Touching On A Little Bit Of Everything: #3 – Poems For You

What is life even about. This question is a constant. Whether it is 8:29 am after a sleepless night, or 1:39 am out in a bar far from home, my mind has shown me on multiple occasions my doubts cloud me mentally and physically. I always have an existential lense. Even as I peer out of the window, a sticker reminds me of the 90s. A simpler life, where I could spend countless hours creating concepts and stories for my collection of toys. Opposed to now and the constant noise, the social cohesion and interconnectivity. It demands we play alongside each other, without interacting it seems we miss out on intriguing others. We are hardly presented with a few ideas we have to work with, we work in unison. I rate it, but I also hate it. For the wonder of the individual goes missing. I miss going to people’s homes in the 90s and witnessing their idea of fun, or perceiving them simply by themselves and not the ideals of unified appeal. It steals originality, regurgitating it to fit into social patterns that unravel through time. Like the various stereotypes of the past. There are hardly any goths around my age, or grundgers, you know? Where did they go? Similarly, the roadman/hood yout ceases to exist as life persists.

Things change, that is what life is about. The constant gathering of ideas over time and the layers of them. How the intensity of these times and how adamant we are to fit in. I try to perceive the individual’s beauty over their collective angst, to exist and be. Hence I believe I have great insight for the people I care about, and also connect with. So with this idea ultimately loose in my mind, I wanted to gift people something original and quick. As if it was something from back then. A poem, for you

I asked people to DM me an idea and I will make them their own poems. So far, I have had some really interesting responses – and I have been doing this for about 2 years now. But here are the ones I produced today (27th April 2018):

1 – About Her

Her hair towered above her cranium with a Huey hue

A Black Panther, proud of the remnants of truth

It knew too much, plucked from the grooves of life

Gazing into depths to add a fresh breathe of aesthetic

Shedding benevolence by merely being present

Surprising the self within a soulful crescent

Homing her beauty within a self motivated essence

Where one may be unsure of the living tale

The darkness lurks energetically to derail

The comfort in which goodness befell

Though ready to show and tell, to unravel peers fears

As the dusk clears her wings will appear

To steer the black into light, an MJ flight


2 – About perceiving life from a Mirror

I have no voice, no choice except angles

Rays of light fight for the right to see my face

To capture a place moment and time where they’re infinitely fine

In order to gain atoms of happiness beaming for a smile

The vile vanity of viewing, the teleological curse

Which infers beauty in seeing and its intrinsic meaning

Gleaming to capture a moment in time in which nothing was the same

As things realign by time my outlook begins to feel shame

As I spend it portraying the waves of decay, donning dust to hide the plains

Of inbetween moments that media is ashamed, the process to perfection

An election of change, demanding a layer to evade our wading reality

3 – About my thoughts on smoking Weed

Sour lips bitten crisp by smoke and tars grips

Bitterly ripping, crackling under pressures of the ill

The thrill had run dry, fried was this passionate cook

Who shook the sativa crumbs from numb finger tips

Which were cloaked by the scent of American Spirit

As if his karma would exhibit change by a haze

His laze grew in comfort believing it a phase

Phasing through ways of effort, wading by potential

It became existential to bother, in this new sombre

That engulfed his capacity to care, wearing him bare

As he lay there, billing another bout, pondering

On what life is about, his mind would shout

As his ease was corned by anxieties rout

In order to uphold his phenomenal clout he would scout

Talent in the same lane as his amnesia driven doubts

Wondering if this is what life is really about

Discussing the parallels as they exchange mouths

Steadily becoming the same addiction of repetitions

4. About my current Mindset

No dream, blurred lines and means

With anxiousness adjacent to greens

Steaming lungs struggling to breathe

Face so clear it grieves within my mind

It sieves through motivation and ends

To appease the necessity to suffer

To cease the goodness of a new day

4am to 5 paves way for Father to pray

Echoing upstairs Fante laying fear bare

English framework unravelling the where’s

Who, what, when and whys of God’s lies

Until an untimely demise, daily prayers and oughts

Affirming what I was brought to this World for

To reason to stay alive as my lust jives

Hurling me to the primitive state to berate values

Pink matter and volumes of haze to gaze at my soul

Folding potency to elope into a comfortable soak

To fill my body with ecstatic hope, as I grope

Aiming to bring wonder to this World of coats

Cloaked in perception containing the ropes

That host you in a ring of previous Humans notes

So yeah, these are the 4 poems I came up with today. If you want your own personal poem, don’t hesitate to DM me quickly I am right here. Ready for whatever.  Or if you do not use Twitter just email me at


Jude aka Thanos

Author: Jude

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