Posts tagged Poetry.

low-life

I am not going to amount to much

That’s what she told me

My dreams are a waste, they’re too tough

My ambition is weak

I was told that I am a low-life

Societies most dreadful and bleak

A magnet for ridicule and spite

“You will be nothing, no one to seek

And you will miss and regret not having me around”

Maybe I am nothing

And maybe I am a low-life hound

A person of poor character and of nothing

Someone who deserves humiliation and antipathy

But what I know for sure

Is that I won’t succumb to apathy

It has to matter what I have endured

This barrage of judgement about a life

A life that I am still living

A low-life, a scoundrel that no one will ever love, you are right

I am all you said unforgiving

You were only wrong about one risk

I am going to “miss and regret” not having you around, you say?

I only regret that you exist

by Jonathan Sheppard

I wrote the poem that inspired the above video in November 2011. Members of Exploding Buffalo and myself began to shooting, “Survived Only in Dreams,” exactly a year later in November 2012. Now it has finally been completed. Similarly to my book the video was released later than I originally had planned but you can’t rush the creative process or a lazy mother fucker. Thanks for your patience and I hope that you enjoy this possible representation of the poem.

Someone Sinister is available now on Create Space and Amazon.com from Exploding Buffalo Publishing

The first official publication from Exploding Buffalo Publishing is now available on Create Space as well as Amazon online bookstores. Thanks for your support. EB’s own The Big Chief has finally published his book of poetry. Soon to be available in your local Los Angeles book store. Be on the look out for more publications from Ex Buf Pub. 

https://www.createspace.com/4263439

http://www.amazon.com/Someone-Sinister-Tyree-Jonathan-Sheppard/dp/0615811787/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1367908390&sr=8-1&keywords=someone+sinister

“La cucaracha, la cucaracha / ya no puede caminar”

I Did Not Hide

I did not hide
Your vision was not blurred or sullied
I was always a bully
I never would even think to try
To deceive you 
There was never a vail
And if I failed
In my nakedness to reveal what is true
You will discover soon
That what was never hidden
The detestable qualities in which I am torment-ridden
A darkness like the forrest under the new moon
Upon you will shine brightly
For what you cannot see in me
What you refuse to be
Is hidden in you frightfully
Within your cavernous heart and your fathomless mind
So when you are incensed by malevolence 
And black dissidence 
I will recognize your malignity in kind
And you will realize 
That you did not have to hide

Doubt

I approach most situations with a certain amount of doubt.
Figuring that I do not know much at all.
I will avoid any crusade, all quarrels and all bouts, 
And just about everything against uncertainty’s call.
What I discern is that nothing has been learned.
Who has said anything of consequence?
Why is substantive discourse obsessively yearned?
Only to succumb to dumb dissidence? 
In this uncertainty I have not been completely lost.
I always knew that I possessed a certain control,
And when I pray for sun and absorb frost.
I knew that my prayer had doled
the Doubt that I didn’t control the sky.
The whole of chaos that remains immured
In the certainty of that conscious lie,
That doubt’s axioms are absurd.
I woke up dead one morning. 
The night before convinced and knowing.
Doubting that I’d die.
That is where certainty lies.



by The Big Chief