Bleh with Barry

Random with a cynical twist of lime.

Posts Tagged ‘questions

Analytic Repose

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Can a soul bleed?

Can a part of ourselves

Fall into the oblivious nature of

Our inner desires. Are we anything but

Corrupt? Can we feel? Can we adjust our

Contemplating to make allowance for the

Temperate equality that cuts through the

Darkness of our own understanding?

We are nothing…. we cannot be unless the interplay

Allows…

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Written by barryr22

November 10, 2011 at 11:59 pm

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Winter’s Bane

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The importance of idolatry

Isn’t that people worship statues

And empty vessels;

It’s having something to believe in.

Something more tangible than

A being we can dial collect

Unless they want to receive our

Bitching phone calls.

We dial zero and listen to the

Elevator music of our souls,

As we go lower and lower into

The infernality that is being human.

Written by barryr22

April 15, 2011 at 12:32 am

A Cynical Life

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Recently, brace yourselves, I have discovered that I have apparently been a cynical person for a while. What led me to this conclusion? Well, it involved going to lunch with some of my friends form high school. Now, for some of you who know me, high school has been a few years ago. (side note: I”m not super young. However, I’m still fairly young….but that’s beside the point, I didn’t want to paint myself as some old troll under the bridge waiting for passersby.) Anyway, we were sitting there reminiscing¬†about high school and talking about life when the idea of what we had originally majored in in college came up, and one of my friends commented that she was originally going to be an accountant.

Well, we kept chatting, and I said that I could never be an accountant because I would be so bored by the monotony of it all…I also said something to the effect of “I would have to go to the store and buy razor blades to spice things up because I would wonder is today going to be the day.” This received a chuckle from the table, and everyone commented that I’m the same old Barry…honestly, I did not realize that I have been this way for years…however a group of four people wouldn’t tell lies (and a communal one at that) would they?

Honestly, I think that a resolution (and I know that it’s a little late in the month of January for this) for me would be to be a little less cynical that what I am….Understandablly, I don’t think that I will quit being cynical entirely because I think that is part of who I am. It’s also what gives me some of my dry wit and makes me a little weird and fun…however, I think that having a more positive cynicism might be better…it’s achieving this sort of thing that may be nigh impossible. (Additionally, just to let you all know, I believe that the glass could be filled up or could be emptied fairly quickly by chugging depending on what’s inside.)

Written by barryr22

January 11, 2011 at 10:32 pm

Saturn is Rising

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A bright spot in the night sky.

An omen of immortal proportions.

Moves. Sways. Explodes.

Can we equate ourselves to gods?

Sitting alone in our technological throne rooms.

Weeping into our soup.

As the diabolical monkey dances.

Written by barryr22

November 17, 2010 at 3:26 am

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Living

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Daily, I battle

The tempest trying to

Blow my spirit into

Submission.

It takes me by

Surprise and sucks the

Wind out of my chilled

Lungs.

Drowning on the land, it’s

Harder to breathe

Sleeping in a bed of

Squalor.

Slowly hands touch,

Lips meet, a run of electricity

Up my spine

Shooting.

Emptiness cannot be

Voided by this

Illusion playing…

Lying.

Written by barryr22

November 3, 2010 at 1:22 am

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Solaria

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What are you?

The Sun?

Glaring at me with your

Cold, fervent fire.

You are nothing but

A blot of dark

Light in the sky

Burning, but

Not feeling.

Please let me be whole.

Let me feel your chilling

Heat before I give into

My immortality…

Let me see the light.

Written by barryr22

September 18, 2010 at 10:58 pm

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Crystaline Clear

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My mentality slips

Just a particle more everyday.

Between each palpitation

Of my still beating heart.

What is right and good

Never comes into play

Because of the insanity,

The instability that I flaunt.

Inside my crystal cage,

The key hangs from her fingers

Beckoning to me to grasp it…

Alas, I reach for the wrong key in this

Hall of mirrors, and

She laughs at me unmercifully.

Written by barryr22

August 9, 2010 at 8:51 pm

Posted in Poetry

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