Pasupatidasi's Blog

thoughts, poetry, life as it is…


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the freak…reblogged

found this on kira moore’s closet
then visited the home site of adreyo’s poetry

enjoy!

the home site for this poem
________________________________________________________
The Freak
by adreyopoetry

How old were you
When they told you
You were
An aberration
When they gave you
Names
That told you of
Your
Filthiness
How long have you
Lived with
Childish childhood
Curses
Sissy
Crybaby
Princess
Idiot
Spastic
Fool
Retard
Bastard
Worthless
Branded on your
Back
Like so many
Rivers
Of hate
How long have you

Accepted their
Judgment
That you are
Thoroughly
Fucked up
That your are a
Freak show
Somehow still
Wriggling your
Loathsome manifesto
Of abnormality
That you should be
Hacked painfully
Into little
Normative pieces
And fed to the
Monsters
That lie at the
Feet
Of the beautiful.


4 Comments

very inspiring blogger

it’s an honor just to be nominated (eyes tear up, sniffs)

so, in keeping with the way of the game…seven things about me, followed by seven bloggers who i nominate.

in lieu of a list of seven things, i offer this summary.

who i am
i cannot say.
it wouldn’t matter
anyway.
less of nows,
than yesterday.
less tomorrows
than today.

and even i
don’t realize
how much of me
is alibis,
policy
or blatant lies,
masquerade or
compromise.

nor can i
pretend to know
(outside of how
i come and go
or memories
i tend to grow)
just what of me
is me to show.

so who i am
i’ll simply be
and ’til i solve
the mystery
of just what is
and isn’t me
i pray for authenticity
Continue reading


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anti-vanity

no matter illusion
our vane-ness pretends
of beauty, perhaps to convince us,
we all turn to toads
further on down the road,
never mind that we once were thought princes!

so better to choose
the insane-ness to end
since truth be known, beauty is fallow.
unless there be grace
‘neath the lines time has traced
on our faces, we wade in the shallows.


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before he died

 
before he died – i could – pretend
forever – was our lot –
and circumscribe- with poet’s pen –
those deeds that – i’d forgot.

the words unspoke – the plans undone –
tomorrow – would – be time
enough for these – i reasoned – once
and therein – was – my crime.

some day – thought i – more time to spend
together – like as not.
and framing thus – our circumstance –
no remedy – was sought.

and even now – with poet’s pen –
i bind them up – with rhyme!
regrets – still – unto now – from then
all set upon – a line.


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naked

so this is my promise
an oath unto sanity:
when shadows of midnight
grow pale
in the place where
the sullied, threadbare
satin sheets
of memories
bed head to tail
with futures still looming
– mere weft on the warp strings,-
lest new cloth be stitched
onto old,
i vow to unravel
the fabric surrounding me
and face the truth
naked
and bold.