A Savage Kind Of Beauty

[Athriller]

I have a scrap book of poems, many of which I've entered into various competitions and some have made it in the books! If ever you see Atif Ishaq, it's me baby. Anyway, I brought one out of the scrap books, I call it:

 

A Savage Kind Of Beauty

 

 

The narcissist will never cease to die young,

A bullet made of age from the barrel of time's gun,

Eternity spent behind mirrors can never be undone,

The dreams of youth were eclipsed by the undying sun.

 

A savage kind of beauty, an unrelentless duty,

All for a momentary bootie,

A selfish service, A perfect shaped cervix,

An ideal shattered by the nervous.

 

Fear of being rejected, Innocence infected,

And so obsession is erected,

Hopeless to every degree, getting rid of acne,

A body fit for a hackney.

 

War with one's self, fufillment on the shelf,

In result of Lust, love or else,

Slave to society, destroyed by anxiety,

Demoted by the mind's hierarchy.

 

Want of another, need for a lover,

Creation of an immaterial cover,

All to be accepted, a life intercepted,

By a logic unexpected.

 

A hollow projection, a false pretense of affection,

A psychological dissection,

A shallow indulgence, an insecure emergence,

A communial coherence

 

The narcissist will never cease to live old,

A tale of misery - one to be consoled,

Bought by cosmetics and to disregard sold,

An unfortunate demise that could never be controlled.

 

When all could have been prevented, with out your self augmented,

Had you not resented, all you represented,

And come to terms and defended, whilst you timidly circumvented,

What you should have contented - the realisation that you're misrepresented

...A beauty that's now lamented.

 

 

 

Hope you enjoyed it.

[dabookerman]

thats some series poetry, the best i could do for poems were acoustic poems, and even they sucked.

 

Adam

Does

Alaskan

Monkeys

 

but on topic, very very nice

[Shorty]

It's a brilliant poem man

 

I think I owe you a fairly-insulting-emo-comment but I'll leave it.

[Guest Ray Falling]

Always nice to see more people on the creative treads.

 

That was a very nice piece you wrote here. Nice as in well written that is. I hope I got it right cause though my English is near perfect, I sometimes have a hard time understanding creative English writing, like poetry.

 

But the style is excellent.

 

I did some writing myself. usually it's in short descriptions to my photography, and sometimes its just non-rhyming stuff.

 

Anyway, keep up the good work

 

--Ray

[Bluejay]

Awesome poem, very thought provoking(sp). Whats a narcissist?

[Raining_again]

athriller, you got some talent there. i love that poem

[dukkadukka]

whoa, you're pretty amazing! i'm thick so i've probably completely misinterpreted this, but i kept on thinking of kurt cobain all the way through reading this. it's probably not him, but am i right in thinking that it's about suicide driven by the urge for self-preservation?

[Athriller]

Thanks for the comments guys and dolls, it's appreciated.

 

It's a brilliant poem man

 

I think I owe you a fairly-insulting-emo-comment but I'll leave it.

 

Heh, you know, I never looked at it that way. It was an upbeat kind of moralistic poem. Although pessimistic, it's not meant to be emotional or depressing or yadda yadda.

 

Awesome poem, very thought provoking(sp). Whats a narcissist?

 

Dictionary definition:

 

1. Excessive love or admiration of oneself. .

2. A psychological condition characterized by self-preoccupation, lack of empathy, and unconscious deficits in self-esteem.

3. Erotic pleasure derived from contemplation or admiration of one's own body or self, especially as a fixation on or a regression to an infantile stage of development.

4. The attribute of the human psyche charactized by admiration of oneself but within normal limits.

 

whoa, you're pretty amazing! i'm thick so i've probably completely misinterpreted this, but i kept on thinking of kurt cobain all the way through reading this. it's probably not him, but am i right in thinking that it's about suicide driven by the urge for self-preservation?

 

 

Hehe, kinda... It was written with anyone in mind. The narcissist doesn't actually die, just metaphorically. Time pretty much kills of physical beauty, so those who are in love with their looks essentially die... if you see how it works.

 

I hate summing up poems, but to put it simply, 'You're physical beauty is going to die, so stop living for it. But remember, there's more to beauty than just appearances, and the fact that you forgot that is why you've lost yourself.'

 

I typed up another, but this one has no title, any suggestions?

 

Untitled!

 

There's a girl who fears every waking moment,

Her cynicism is her most prominent component.

 

She feels her life is nothing more than a mundane ritual,

Her body no longer urges for all feats physical,

She’s lost sight of all creations that were once visual,

And she feels her life is nothing more than abysmal.

 

And she’s scared of embracing yet another tomorrow,

Another battle with pain, another conquest for sorrow,

She watches her life play out like a tragic horror show,

Just wishing she could be a character in the tales of Heratio.

 

And she looks to the skies, and ask the stars ‘why?’

And she questions what ever happened to variety and range,

And hopes to the highest order that life will change,

‘Oh, will life ever change?’

 

A man can never step into the same river twice,

As neither remain to ever be the same,

So take upon some kindred advice,

It’s all down to how you play the game.

 

And may I suggest that you try to abstain,

From excessive questioning and over thinking,

Or you may find yourself easing the pain,

By bringing a reckoning and nights of drinking,

Yourself into a stupor,

And your mind will be tried at the courts of Jupiter,

Where you’ll plead for sense from Hades and Lucifer,

As your faith yet again flees with the morning star,

And you’ve hurt yourself on a harmless juniper,

Just trying to make sense of nothing and all,

Wondering if the dry leaves of change will ever fall.

 

There’s a girl who questions ever opportunity she takes,

Believing that there’s no significance to each choice she makes.

 

She takes a step back to hear the pseudo intellects warring,

And sighs at the malignant yet again attention whoring,

And she finds the prospect of eternal escape to be most alluring,

But she’s stuck in a life that she deems to be forever boring.

 

And yet again she’s sunk into an ever lasting depression,

Falling even faster and further into an infinite regression,

Finding life pointless with all of its timeless digressions,

Wondering if existence stands for anything more than just enduring successions.

 

And she looks to the skies, and ask the stars ‘why?’

And she questions what ever happened to variety and range,

And hopes to the highest order that life will change,

‘Oh, will life ever change?’

 

 

A man can never step into the same river twice,

As neither remain to ever be the same,

So take upon some kindred advice,

There’s more to life than you hope to claim.

 

And may I suggest that you try to look down with disdain,

On your indulgence in hopeless situations,

Because the fined tuned nature of your ‘self’,

Was never meant for vengeance and all the self induced deprivations,

That you feed into your thought machine,

And one day you will watch your life on a silver screen,

Noting all the great times that could have been,

Had you realised that sorrow is nothing more than a break in-between

All the great joy and happiness that embodied the serene,

As you could never make sense of nothing and all,

As the dry leaves of change only heed to the dreamer’call.

 

There's a girl who understands that doubt is trivial,

That the greatest of joys are the epitome of simple.

[Raining_again]

i suggest "Beyond death" or maybe "Living beyond death" for a title another amazing poem dude