From the warmth of his home, he critiques the world, In his mind he’s a martyr, his black flag’s unfurled, He votes with his passion, his news sources he reads Not knowing these monsters seek to shatter his knees! In bed with the monsters, the serpent of envy and greed, That demonic leviathan to him it still lies and it pleads, By indulging his fears and his pity his empathy is seized And engage with his sympathy to spread its disease! For each day’s a battle, in some book each day is wrote And for those who defy this, their armies go up in smoke.
It is him who I shall watch and it’s at him I shall stare For whose existence is resisted will decay in despair, To resist life is pointless and this nihilism is terrible to grasp So that fallacy becomes the cocoon of a fabricated mask! He who is sickened by everything that knows chaos and strife Forgets that what batters down walls will hone down his knife! So accept the violence and chaos, man, don’t shy from life And know that life is a war, man, please engage in the fight, Whether in battle with gloves on or at your table to write! For each day’s a battle, in some book each day is wrote And for those who defy this, their armies go up in smoke.
The real introduction to my podcast Bourbon, Cigarettes and Syllables aired today! Link included below. Let me know what you think. Criticism and suggestions will be greatly appreciated!
Every Wednesday here after Ill be posting a video where I’ll be discussing the topics talked about today in the introductory video. Primarily boxing, poetry and meaning in a nihilistic world along with many other topics. Watch subscribe and comment please!
Old tired towns along the east coast, Rusted trains roar by in the night, The oceanside’s littered in rubble and dust And only the stars provide light. Back streets bomb shelled like Beirut And shattered city’s a hell of a sight.
Shredded sunk war ships have distance, But their submerged hulls reflect sun, Bombshells still exploding on long island sound Scream the battle has not yet been won
Soot’s repainted suburban scenes Under clouds cloaked in toxic haze Bullets rattling off, each an echo of the last, And seem not to cease for days.
Hope you enjoyed the poem! If you did, my chapbook is available on Amazon for 1.99 and if you message me I’ll definitely send you a free one! I’d love to get some reviews on my work. I’m new to selfpublishing and trying to promote myself anyway I can! There is a link below