Random Rantings of a Sarcastic Poet » writing

cravingoxygen — Fri, 23 May 2008 18:35:00 +0000

Yeah okay.
So call me lame, but I’ve found a couple of other poems that I wrote before. Here’s one of them:

Numb
There are times that I wonder
Whether I’m still alive
Or whether I’m just going through the motions;
Walking dead

Fine outside
Numb inside
Interesting lack of emotion
As I watch from afarWonder what went wrong
Wonder whether anything went wrong
Wonder what actually went right

I don’t know anymore
There’s nothing wrong with me
Yet something’s not like it should

Don’t know what to do
Don’t know what to say
Don’t know what to feel
Don’t know whether I still can

Now wasn’t that just wonderfully depressing. Well, here’s another one. It was supposed to be a song, but I kinda couldn’t come up with a chorus, so it became a poem. It doesn’t have a name.

Stuck in a rut
On the outskirts of life
No way back in
No way to pull out
But I don’t care
I’m gonna come clean
No matter what I do
I’m being sucked inIt’s pushing, I’m pulling
With all of my might
It’s coming, I’m going
Trying hard to pull out
But although I try
To change my ways
No matter what I do
I’m being sucked in

Nothing that stands out
Anymore
Each colour is faded
More than before
Everything blurs
Not much can be seen
No matter what I do
I’m being sucked in

There’s quicksand
All around
And I’m being sucked in.

cravingoxygen — Fri, 23 May 2008 18:14:00 +0000

Hey again.
Here’s my newest poem if you feel like reading it:

Craving Oxygen
As an alread-parched desert
Is forever desiring more sun
As a drunken ocean
Begs more water for the next high
My heart pleads for space and isolation
My lonely soul craves oxygenAlways feeling crowded
Though there’s no-one around
Never mind that the place is empty
Feel like I still hear sounds

It’s as though the air is liquid
Each breath I take -
It burns me

Breathing shards
Of shattered glass
Feel it slicing up my feelings

Hate this eternal silence
But cracked silence hurts more
It’s cutting up my emotions
Puncturing my heartCall it paranoia
You can never be too careful
Retreating into my loneliness
Where there’s no-one to cause pain
‘Cept me

Maybe I’ll add some more to it. But that’s it for now. Maybe that shrink was right. *sigh sigh*
Don’t really know. Don’t particularly care. I guess this is me in a certain sense, but not how I feel right now. I, personally, am feeling pretty okay.Your Sarcastic Poet

cravingoxygen — Tue, 08 Apr 2008 15:50:00 +0000

I feel numb, but pleasantly so. It definitely doesn’t feel like anything’s wrong. Maybe this is why teenagers are forced to go to school. To prevent them from becoming pleasantly numb vegetables (see last post).I know that I’m only writing in simple sentances and it might seem kinda weird, but I’m totally writing thoughts here, not a conversation or an essay, so what the hey.

Never mind that though. This is where I’m supposed to rant so that’s what I’m gonna do.
…
…
…
…
…
…

Weird, now that I’m about to write, I can’t think of anything to write. Wonder why. Why is it that the moment you sit down to start writing, you strike a blank or the moment you scrape a couple of hours together for a nice, uninterrupted read, you can’t seem to get into the zone. Almost like when you want to show someone something, you can’t do it even though you did it a hundred times before. Yeah… the mysterious workings of the human mind.

Tell me something: am I the only one who wants to achieve something great in life? Why is everyone else happy being an average person at an average job with average friends?
I don’t want that for my life one day. I want to be someone one day. I want to make an impression on the world and the people around me. I don’t want to be average or do some boring work one day. I keep hearing about these brilliant people like scientists and mathematicians who do things like work at Plascon or test different soaps and foods. I don’t want that for my life.
I don’t want to have the qualifications and then do something boring. I want to be known and important. I don’t want to be a scientist and then test different foods. I don’t want to be a brilliant programer and then program vending machines or something. I don’t want to be a doctor and then monitor elderly patients (No offense meant against anyone by this). I, I don’t know. I just want more from life than the everyday. Maybe I’ve been watching too much tv or reading too many books, but I want something from life. I do not want my life to be normal or average. EVER!!! Maybe that’s just me, I don’t know.
Maybe this is some type of phsycological condition. Maybe I’m pushing myself too hard like that shrink said. But I wouldn’t be able to survive if my life were average. I would, I don’t know, turn into a criminal in
search for excitement or something. There are times when being a criminal mastermind has it’s appeal. I wouldn’t actually steal anything, I’d just steal it and then give it back. The problem is that if I get caught, I somehow don’t really think they’ll believe me. And anyway, if I do pull it off, no-one will mind me stealing stuff anymore since I keep giving it back anyway which kind of gives the whole notoriety thing less appeal. Since I won’t really be notorious, just considered crazy. Which defeats the whole purpose.
But I’m wandering away from the point here. Am I the only one who really wants something exciting from life? Are people like these really happy with their lives? I can’t understand it.
And since my life
has been relatively boring so far, I guess that’s why I game and why I read. Because I can’t bear te thought of being everyday, normal and average. Because when I read and game, I get to be someone else and experience things that I’d never get to otherwise.
I hate it when I analyze myself like that.
But there’s nothing wrong with that is there? I mean, what am I supposed to do when there is no way for me to solve a murder case or trek from one end of the universe to the other or be an infamous hacker or a notorious piratess? There are times when I seriously think that I was born in the wrong time period. I should have been born almost any time except now. I even missed Apartheid, that’s how dull my life has been. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not praying for a national disaster, or for Christians to become outlawed or for a war or to be kidnapped or anything. But still. I might not get to fight dragons or privateers in this age, but I can get a great career where I can do something almost as good.
Which is why I don’t get why people are happy with their jobs. Maybe I’m too imaginative. Or insane. Or just different. Maybe I read more than the average teen. Maybe I game more than the average South African teen that I know. I’m not being judgemental here, just theorizing.
Like I’ve said, my way of being adventurous would be to do something great someday. Maybe other people don’t like being adventurous. Or maybe they consider taking a different route home from work to be adventurous. I don’t know.I’m going to shut up now, stop theorizing and go back to being a depressedly happy vegetable.
See ya later.

Your local Randomly Ranting Sarcastic Poet

Ballad of a Boyfrienless Outcast

cravingoxygen — Sun, 06 Apr 2008 19:34:00 +0000

Ballad of a Boyfriendless Outcast
AKA
Fallen for the Stranger I’ve Never MetI’ve never seen your face
Or the colour of your eyes.
I’ve never seen you smile
Or one of your teardrops as it dries.I’ve never felt your touch
Or the brush of your gaze.
I’ve never been with you a moment
Yet I’ve known you all my days.

Is it possible to love someone
Who you don’t even know?
I’ve fallen for a total stranger
To who I long to go.

I’ve never sensed your presence
In the middle of the crowd.
I’ve never heard you whisper;
Maybe all else is too loud.

I love you with everything inside me
All my dreams, hopes and wishes are yours.
Yet, for all I know, you’re one of them:
An empty fantasy at Death’s doors.

I’ve never spoken a word to you,
Though not out of choice.
I’ve never heard you make a sound
Yet, I’m sure I’d know your voice.

But somewhere deep inside me,
I know you do exist.
You must be out there somewhere
The little voice persists.

You’ve never ever seen me,
Yet I know I’ll know it’s you.
And when you see me, finally,
You’ll feel like you always knew

But I don’t know where to find you
Or look for you or call
As you might have noticed,
The world’s big and I’m pretty small.

You’ve never held me in your arms
When I was miserable or cried
Even though I’d say I was fine
You’d know that I had ied

The chances of me finding you,
When your very existance is questionable,
Doesn’t matter much to me,
No matter how unbelievable.

You’ve never put your hand in mine
To show me that you care.
You’ve never put your lips on mine
To show our love is rare.

But I believe in hope
And in faith and in love
And someday I know I’ll find you
‘Cause I believe in true love.

Okay, so it’s lame and lovestruck, but give me a break. I can’t be sarcastic all the time. And I’ve got copyright on this, so don’t go publishing it as yours all over the net or using it as lyrics for your song or whatever else you might want to do to or with it.
Comments welcome. If anyone’s even reading this. Why they’d be doing this I don’t know. (See, I’m back to my sarcastic self again).

Sarcastic Poet