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“If the greatest weakness of all is for the individual to believe he lacks one, then this is his greatest imperfection. Awareness of capability does not come without the same for its opposite. We are not capable if we are not also aware of how we are incapable. Pushing limits is one way to be…
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“If victimization is equivalent to innocence, then the latter will be equivalent to denial. Of a denial that comes forth from a disbelief that one, as a victim, cannot possibly be like those who antagonize them. In this, there is more than a likelihood for such victims to be as their supposed ‘enemies’, even to…
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“Those prideful of being ‘represented’, for appearance’s sake, in a workforce of utility can only be described as the ones who believe ugliness can be a form of beauty.” – Modern Romanticism It is the ugliness of toil, to the creation of something beautiful, that separates both. Poverty is not beautiful, as it should never…
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He tripsUpon the short line,Skips heartbeatsTrapped at the borderline,Holds a strawFor the familiar stingThat his chance to sow newnessWill never be brought,Shall not sing. A wilderness,One shining eclipse,A part of a moment to enterThe sun,When the moon is grown,When tears are shown.A part of a moment,Highlight upon the heart,Of love that sears. Small moment,First sighBreathing…
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God triumphedUpon the returnOf His fortune,Radiant in embellishment,Curious for His wayFor which He mayOpen her. Treasure of boundless extravagance,With little care in the tearOf folds, for the earth.God, whose sin was greatRevealed flesh,Too stagnant in weight.The He who leapt,The me who weptA rainstorm to decorate the liesWith the forty nights,Without sunrise. PersistenceOf savageryBled out for…
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“It is the coward’s approach to mock that which is dead, out of untold amount of time the living critic did not speak to the now-deceased whomever while they were alive.” – Modern Romanticism Remembering the dead, as we will, and then we recall only ever the successes of how they lived. For there is…
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Describe youIn simple ways,I cannot.EnamoredBy engrossing details – A shoreline curve to a hip,Pebbled beachTo make both eyes and breasts,Fingers, like candlesBurn garmentsTo the ashen floor. WatchfulOf subtle hints,Bared auras,Scenery to taste,Loins to wasteIn the grave intoxicationIn the entrance, of womanhood. Lifted sights,Disassembled breaths,A face that does not surrenderTo the lifetime of age. Hair that…
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White winterDrafted on a page, written backwardsTo this season’s beginning.Were we ever the fogAround our decaying eyes?SwelledIn the season’s pushWithout much to soften for,In the current light of day. A plea,Turned into the seaOf vast forgivenessNever believed,For its smile that enters as sunriseUpon the defeated horizonHolds enough for a heart to surmise,That for where we…
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You tell,You spell the cause of your woe,And I come crawlingTo ease,To please you, in pain’s dire flow.The simplicityTo bereaveWhen I wear a heartStitched on my sleeve. Calm this,And do not fuel this.These urges shall come undoneTo bleed you,To grieve youOn the wires of your heartHung from the highest cliff,Spilling downIts descent from the crown.…
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Soft, simple words edged on the tongue that speaks nothing audible, between the voice that coughs on grief. A symptom. And, only a symptom. Of a stain noticeable to the mind, yet invisible to the heart. To what can ridicule, for its current place. Then, what will wish for its place among the silence of…
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Holding nowWhat little remainsOf your porcelain mouth,Of what words I did contemplateUnder the barest moon,Lifting my featuresApart from doom,Healing a heartThat never died for you. The simplest beatOf an orb of redLeaves stainsOn the floor, where walksDecrepit feet,Bleeding toes,A horror upon the shouldersOf a man in his woe. The cold iron,The rushing crimson,With veins that…
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“The collective organization is only ever aware of its individualized imperfections. In denial, however, the idea of ‘change’ comes to the mind of one who stands for collectivism by whatever is altered. It is the denial of what should be trusted. Through collective change, individualized imperfection is ignored for the sake of a perfected group.”…
Modern Romanticism 