Profoundly

by G!

How else to see the
World, but profoundly?
On what can the mind
ponder, but deep thoughts?
Why live this life at
All, but to seek meaning?

What makes all you
People stay on the surface?
Like plastic bottles floating
In the sea, carried by waves?
When you think you are empty
Bottles, you are actually rocks?

Why don't you sink down
With me, and brave the depths?
Why are we expected to do
What is common and banal?
Why are mediocre minds more
Valued than the great masters?

Lastly, why am I thinking
Such elitist thoughts?

Tiredness

By G!

You often tell me you're
Tired, well aren't we all?
Perhaps you'd like to write
A poem about it. Why, you
Might ask, aren't you writing
One? Why this is not a poem
About tiredness, it is merely a
Monologue on the meaning of
The subject, which as I see you
Have little interest in. On the other
Hand aren't we all self-absorbed and
Stuck in our own bubble; fated to face
Our own shortcomings alone and alienate
Others while we flounder in the quicksand
Of disillusion and despair? Maybe such dark
Sayings are only applicable to me, after all, you
Are not stuck in the vortex of absolutes, you even
Said yourself, dignity is not one of your most valued
Virtues; alas the same cannot be said of me. Now onto
The subject: fatigue. I suppose I'm not talking about that
In the physical sense, as common sense will easily dictate
Its meaning, but the state of fatigue that works on the mind,
Breaking down hopes, dissolving motivation, clouding up any
And all sense of purpose. From unsuspecting locations this subtle
Agent rises to take over the mind's workings. Was it the absence of
Purpose that brought about its ascent? Was it an inherent weakness of
Man that caused it to seize control? Was it always there in the first place?
Ah fatal fatigue, it grows strong and wears you down, until the next moment
And it's gone.
Where has it gone?
What will keep it at bay?
Why and when does it strike?
I suspect I know the answer
As well as you do: I don't.
By the way, the shape of
This monologue is that
Of half a lamp, isn't
That cool?

If I Were a Dictator

by G!

If I were a dictator,
I'd force everyone to
Ride bicycles, and run
Subway tracks everywhere
For the lazy citizens.

If I were a dictator,
I'd let the pundits criticize
Me to their content; a
Great leader must always
Transcend dissent.

If I were a dictator,
I'd thumb my nose at
The world economy, my
Country should produce
Only for itself.

If I were a dictator,
I'd build orphanages
For unwanted children to
Go so that abortion wouldn't
Ever be necessary.

If I were a dictator,
I'd give money to the
Artists, until the culture
Of my country is
Revitalized.

If I were a dictator,
I'd castrate all the perverts,
Burn all the terrorists, and
Donate all sociopaths to
Scientific research.

If I were a dictator,
I'd dash the hopes of
All separatist minorities;
Alone, they'd lose the little
Independence they have.

If I were a dictator,
I'd have to seize my country
With tyrants, murder them all,
And be left to govern it with
Humble intellectuals.

If I were a dictator,
I'd eat at home what
I cook for myself; the lavish
Life of pathetic despots
Is not for me.

If I were a dictator,
I'd help my country become
A democracy before I
Retire, I'd hope it wouldn't
End like King Lear.

If I were a dictator,
I'd like to survive a few
Assassination attempts, learn
Martial arts, study music,
Learn another language...

If I were a dictator,
I'd come before God at
The end of my life to
Repent for my sins, and be
Forgiven before I die.

If I were a dictator,
Oh how wonderful
The world shall be.

Am I Ready For Love?

G!

Nowadays love is
Described as 'cute', yet
Is it not also supposed
To be profound and
Meaningful?
Cheers to you who
Thinks love is 'Cute', but
I am not looking for
Cuteness, and that is why
I am not ready for
Love.

A chaste life is no
Longer the pursuit of
Young men, yet that is
What I believe. Love is
More than cute, it is
Transcendental, true,
And final.

Am I ready for the
Final decision? Am I
Ready for commitment? Am
I ready for love? Alas I
Am not, if I swear by
These questions I ponder;
I still stand alone.

I am first and
Foremost enamored
By myself above all
Others. You think you're
Selfish; I am truly selfishness.
I belong to me, not
Us both.

If affection makes you
Happy, I will give you all
That I'm willing, but
Be aware of my limits to
Give, for I am yet a true
Gentleman, I am yet a true
Giver, and I am yet truly
Ready for love.

You have my affections
Only for the present,
Not for the future.

The Truth Above All

One of my favorite
Songs - that still retains
Lyrics - is Dan Hill's
Sometimes When We Touch.
From the first verse it goes:
'I'd rather hurt you
Honestly, than mislead you
With a lie.' How true.
Love songs are pleasant when
They do not apply to
You, and they're damn
Awkward when they do.
Let it be an awkward
Confession then, that
I am no one to judge your
Faults, if it matters to you.
I treat you by my truth,
I only hope you treat me by
Yours in return, and no
Trust is breached.
We are yet too young to
Overcome the pride and
Identity that defines us, and
We need not force change.
Either way, there is the best
To be found in each other
And the best is what my
Truth compels me to seek.
There is nothing to for-
Give, and no transgression
To answer for.
We all believe in a
Difference truth; for me
It's the truth above all.

Untitled

G!

I have once mused that
I, and people everywhere,
We believe in God, because
There is nothing else to
Believe in.
Little did I know of
The truth in that statement
Until I realize now that
I have placed faith in a
Lesser thing.
I have lost all faith
In the education system,
Which I should say comes
As a surprise to nobody, or
Should it?
I am sick of doing
Things I don't want to do,
Listening to people who
Have no real qualification to
Judge me.
So why am I a
Yet a slave to this careless,
Indifferent bureaucracy
To which I am a sequence
Of numbers?
Once a loyal servant,
Now I see the master's
True form, and what do I
Do but feel very, hopelessly
Powerless?
I remain inscribed,
Indentured by a system
That retains me and
Cares not about my
Well-being.
I have lost all faith
In homework and
Assignments, and these
Meaningless digits they
Call grades.
I once believed I
Could leave this trap with
All I could take; instead,
It has taken everything
From me.

Untitled

G!

Why do I stare?

Sometimes I
Ask that question myself.

Perhaps I am
Transfixed by something incredible
And no words are
Necessary or sufficient to
Detail what I see.

Perhaps I am
Bored and does it on purpose
To make other people
Uncomfortable under
My glassy gaze.

Perhaps I am
Trying to communicate with your
Mind telepathically.

Perhaps I am
Disillusioned and haven't a care
To look away.

Perhaps no reason.

Perhaps I see
In your eyes what I find
Nowhere else, after
All, you do have
Beautiful eyes.

Whatever my reason, know
This: I stare to see, not to
Look; to observe, not to
demand.

I may be terrible at
Breaking silences, but in those
Silences, I simply sit
Back and stare.