Working on a book

Hello people in my harem,

I’m working on a book with my poetry and a few other bits here and there.

Currently in the process of trying to figure out organising this thing.

This is also why I haven’t recently posted any new poetry, as i am keen on keeping some poems exclusive to the book.

I already have a working title, I will not be revealing that till I get further in the process.

In the mean time I may post older poetry, new poetry written exactly for the purposes of having something to post here.

But it would do me a favour if you wish to reblog any of my posts, share, like or follow. Every like or follow helps construct the illusion I need to uphold, that being that my words are getting me somewhere 😉

Working on a book

hello, to all the people in my harem and others.

I’m working my way through collections of my poetry and other bits of writing to put in a book.

This is why I’ve not been posting new poetry lately, as I wish to keep some exclusive for the book so some poems can remain unread and new to anyone who reads my blog.

For now though it would do me a massive favour if you wish to reblog, share and like any poetry or other pieces of mine.

 

 

Severe sanity

I have a theory, though I must add it’s not a scientific one. But through observation of people, I’ve come to the conclusion that delusion is a fundamental part of the human psyche.
I believe that a small amount of delusion is needed for human functioning, that delusions are indeed survival mechanisms.
A person either has just enough delusion to function and get them through their lives, or his or her delusions take over and prevent functioning. But there is a third type of person, a person who lacks the ability to believe in a delusion, a person who notices almost every contradiction meaning they couldn’t believe if they tried. Their lives become what can only be verbally and in writing expressed as a living hell. It’s a subset of depression. It’s severe sanity.

Sanity to the extremes in a human mind is dangerous. Because with such extreme sanity, your head will be played with, with a constant barrage of contradictions that others seemingly don’t notice. It means you also see that there is no grander meaning to life; you see it for what it is. Because life is everything yet everything in the scheme of things means nothing. There is no grander purpose. We have a biological drive to help us in the here and now and nearer future, but we see that even the here and now don’t really amount to anything with meaning. That the only way meaning can exist is for us to create a meaning, but to create that meaning you need to be able to function like a human being who doesn’t suffer from severe sanity. You need a delusion. A positive delusion. And where can a severely sane person require a delusion, once they’re aware that everything humans believe to keep themselves going, to give them meaning is a delusion?

I don’t know. Where can we go, with all our fucks? We have no delusions to pack them into.

And if you think I don’t notice the contradiction of posting a post on a blog for others to read, as if somehow you can help a person like me, or as if my writing means anything I am fully aware while writing this, that this post doesn’t even matter. And that to even write it is stupidity in the face of what i have just said. But thats just another reason it hurts to be me. Because all these repetive days that go on, i carry on all the while knowing the only logical answer.

I hate myself

I disturb me. I’m tired of life and death, I’m tired of me. I’m tired of other people and their baggage, their emotions, their problems, their excuses. I’m tired of what I go through not being worthy of the pain I feel. It makes me feel pathetic, I hate when I see someone with genuine suffering and all I can think is “I have all this pain inside, and my reasons aren’t worthy of the pain I feel. My pain is not worthy yet I feel it because I’m pathetic” I feel like a clown with those endless handkerchiefs, I have endless pain. A deep harrowing hole that can’t be emptied, that can’t be fulfilled. It can’t be either because it’s nothing and it’s everything.

What I really want to do is, cut myself off from the world, allow myself to mourn life and take a painless exit.

 

Lipstick

Want to know what a gorilla truly wants? Read his poetry. But beware darkness lurks, for this gorilla has his hand in the abyss. Oh also this gorilla sometimes writes with sexual themes

Matt's avatar

It’s a hazy Sunday afternoon

Jazz and the sound of a ticking clock

Smokey dreams

Make the earthly realm obsolete

And woman solely mine

Kicks off her shoes

And we kiss in cocktails of wine

Crimson lipstick stains on my face

A tattoo from the divine

2015

View original post

Different shades of blue

My identity no longer insists on the person/people spoken about in this poem.

Matt's avatar

I don’t want to let you go
I want to float away with you
I want to go into oblivion too
My identity insists on you

I can still hear your footsteps echoing
I’m trying to reconstruct these memories
Sharp as razor edges, broken in pieces

I’m trying to find our reflection
But all I see is a stranger fading from me
Your face began to wane
And now you look like anyone

And I’m afraid
Because though you’re slipping away
I’ve left a part of me too
And it’ll always be with you
But all you left me
Were different shades of blue

© 2015

View original post

Life is nothing

I’m tired of life again. Or I’m tired of me. I feel a darkness surround me. Enveloping me. I don’t actively want to die, I just have a sense of hoping I might. It’s not the world is bad and people are bad or other such nonsense. It’s that I’m painfully indifferent to life. I don’t care if the sun is shining, or if something is just ‘wonderful’ I don’t care if it’s shit, or who is evil or who is not evil. I just don’t care because life is just a bleak blanket of useless nothing.

Twisted love

I’m a silverback gorilla. I wrote a poem about sex, see look.

Matt's avatar

Your kiss like a blade upon my skin
Naked before you, you delve deeper into my wounds
I don’t know if this is love or hate
But I can’t seem to walk away
I know I should run
But your eyes cut me down to size
I’m not big enough to take the road
I’m just a scared boy inside
Waging a war behind elusive eyes
And your ice cold kiss lays me down for the night
In my ice cold tomb where a soldier lost his fight
And your finger tips like knives
Cut across my skin
Full of sex and full of life
And your ice blue eyes are the only thing keeping me cold at night
This frost is a lesson learnt
And upon a body of curves I trace your skin
Like it’s a map of life
We hold on tight, waiting, hoping, wanting
For a…

View original post 5 more words

Betrayed

Hi, I’m a gorilla who writes poetry. That makes me a unique gorilla, for this reason you should probably read my poetry.

Matt's avatar

Naked before you
I stand betrayed
You kneel as if to pray
And your lips pucker
As you tread a fine line
Teasing, pleasing
Wanting forgiveness
You swallow
Your pride
And you take it in
Let it seep down
And I know
You’ll betray my trust again
But that only makes this easier

Worlds apart
I stand estranged
You smoke me like a cigarette
This will be a night we’ll regret
But for now we don’t care
It’s all we get
In the moment
We’re trying to reconnect
Nothing matters
Trying to hold on to the fragments

Tears fall to your hair
From my face
But I don’t care
My heart feels something
With every beat
But I know our love
Will not be

And when you look up
Back at me
See my tears you come up to my face
And you wipe them away
It’s all I ever…

View original post 94 more words