Masqued Existence
Do not know why I wrote it...
Written on date published...
Also, all titles henceforth are to be ignored.
Do NOT know what to call my poems.
I personally am not too fond of the way I wrote this
could've done better, I suppose.
Like the idea put forth, but could've done it better, probably made it less direct and self-explanatory. However, the idea oblique thought oblique concept I wished to express is not yet clearly defined in my own mind. On ordinary occassions, would not have tried to write on what I clearly have not yet understood..
Still, an attempt, be nice. (Hahahaha!!!)
Masqued Existence
We all wear a gamut of masks,
Of varied moulds, colourful, chaotic,
A plethora of emotions dressed fancy,
Bedecked by customs, prejudices, principles.
Changing masks with time, person, place,
In orderly self-righteous, composed assuredness,
No qualms about delusion, self deceit, honesty,
Propreity and societal norms demand fluidity.
A mask is but a cloak that hides,
True intent, nature, primal instincts,
The aspiration of self and ideal emerge,
Approved by all and deemed correct to wear.
All prefer to show what is not,
True selves disappear in layers of veils,
Adapted, improved , perfected mannerisms,
We misdirect all in blinding light.
Most are ignorant of deception of self,
Masks unnoticed, though smothering,
An accepted lie to truth does morph,
Pretense and act do actions become.
We tremble in thought of what exists,
Deep beneath the barriers we place,
Unchecked by morals, inhibition or altruistic bondage,
What vile demon is spawned in us?
Binding our fears, our obsessions, our darkness,
We project what not we are in thought,
A cynic hopes to never hope again,
In cowardly fear of fall.
Our masks govern our thought and mind,
But what of those few, poor souls,
Who of masks are aware and despise
Yet play in hope that they might believe they only play.
They who recognise themself as object, not image,
And yet would rather prefer to not,
For brutal truth to helplessness does lead,
And they life in hypocriy, knowledge, loathing.
For they understand and respect it not,
And project themselves true but as masks,
In hope that as other masks removable it be,
And convince themself that they only act.
When the mask becomes a mask itself,
To convince themselves and others of false false,
They believe that they participate in facade and farce,
To salvage their sanity and conscience.
We all wear a gamut of masks,
And in self-deception ourself delude,
Are we waiting for an epiphany,
Or is this is reality, life?
- Thriddas Anorak
If any do read this piece and notice how confused it is, tell me. Do indeed point out all the lacunae in my thought process. I however cannot respond. I do not know why or how I wrote what I did. Would like to...Help me understand what I have expressed whether it be flawed or not.
Written on date published...
Also, all titles henceforth are to be ignored.
Do NOT know what to call my poems.
I personally am not too fond of the way I wrote this
could've done better, I suppose.
Like the idea put forth, but could've done it better, probably made it less direct and self-explanatory. However, the idea oblique thought oblique concept I wished to express is not yet clearly defined in my own mind. On ordinary occassions, would not have tried to write on what I clearly have not yet understood..
Still, an attempt, be nice. (Hahahaha!!!)
Masqued Existence
We all wear a gamut of masks,
Of varied moulds, colourful, chaotic,
A plethora of emotions dressed fancy,
Bedecked by customs, prejudices, principles.
Changing masks with time, person, place,
In orderly self-righteous, composed assuredness,
No qualms about delusion, self deceit, honesty,
Propreity and societal norms demand fluidity.
A mask is but a cloak that hides,
True intent, nature, primal instincts,
The aspiration of self and ideal emerge,
Approved by all and deemed correct to wear.
All prefer to show what is not,
True selves disappear in layers of veils,
Adapted, improved , perfected mannerisms,
We misdirect all in blinding light.
Most are ignorant of deception of self,
Masks unnoticed, though smothering,
An accepted lie to truth does morph,
Pretense and act do actions become.
We tremble in thought of what exists,
Deep beneath the barriers we place,
Unchecked by morals, inhibition or altruistic bondage,
What vile demon is spawned in us?
Binding our fears, our obsessions, our darkness,
We project what not we are in thought,
A cynic hopes to never hope again,
In cowardly fear of fall.
Our masks govern our thought and mind,
But what of those few, poor souls,
Who of masks are aware and despise
Yet play in hope that they might believe they only play.
They who recognise themself as object, not image,
And yet would rather prefer to not,
For brutal truth to helplessness does lead,
And they life in hypocriy, knowledge, loathing.
For they understand and respect it not,
And project themselves true but as masks,
In hope that as other masks removable it be,
And convince themself that they only act.
When the mask becomes a mask itself,
To convince themselves and others of false false,
They believe that they participate in facade and farce,
To salvage their sanity and conscience.
We all wear a gamut of masks,
And in self-deception ourself delude,
Are we waiting for an epiphany,
Or is this is reality, life?
- Thriddas Anorak
If any do read this piece and notice how confused it is, tell me. Do indeed point out all the lacunae in my thought process. I however cannot respond. I do not know why or how I wrote what I did. Would like to...Help me understand what I have expressed whether it be flawed or not.
posted by Thriddas Anorak at 12:19 am
1 Comments:
Why are you so unsure of your own intentions? Have the guts to believe in your thoughts and convictions. I profess to be no scholar, take it with a pinch of salt, " accept yourself for what u are, and understand everybody has a good and bad aspect in them , that is what the whole battle is about, conquering your negative tendencies and allowing your positive tendencies to win." Bye and good luck.
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