myself: how seen the earth

I'm human. Just don't like admitting to it.
Don't picture the bigger negative of the radiant old lot.
It's a fact, but I'm a fan of fiction.
Wish I were inhabitant of any alien-like world.
Where I was new and ignorance was more allowed.
Wish I were some devil I knew better
than my very devilish own self.
Peace, you folks, you happy audience, you watchful eyes
of patronizing wisdom brought upon me, willingly
or ever so vigilantly involuntarily.
I'm humanly; too similiar; humiliated with my own
grown stasis.
I'm human, I'm my anchor, I don't drift away.
I won't let me, I don't alienate, and it's 'cos I can't.
I'm human and I'm so aware.

"poor poriness"
by scaramouche, the po(t)et, absolutely unconscious but conscious, somehow, after-all, maybe that's what they call the subconscious, and maybe this is how I see it work. Soundtrack: Stars - "My favourite book".

late night be post-party poesy / to read beetween the lines // this is what I see / now, me / this is what I tried to be / I failed, but I care less / God bless / I see what I see and I keep my distance and I find my content quite pleasurable / my contest my prize my valuable pieces / I'm fine / I find my borders quite confined / I see no more / so please apologise / I watch the sci-fi, watch the world, the fiction and the real(i)ty may mingle / see no difference / the fictious and the actual blend / I hear no cried objection / I don't care / so hear me now // too much sugar and a careless home / too much drinking and a self-accusing falsified (of recreation) throne / I bet you never understood / I bet you never removed the cap to place the hood / I found the cravings irresistible / I found the reproach hard to bear / so I care less / and here I am not caring anymore no more / and I am fine // and then becoming clarified / to blur the mind with further toxication / I seek the fluid as to stun myself, my paralysing purposes / could sting themselves without the bees / but I can't help but love the buzz / and I'm the trees, the flowers, all the powers / I am the agent without any true agenda / secret service would adore me, but again would not be very hidden anymore / 'cos I disclose it all / that's why I fall / for my own sad temptations / where I fall straight into the traps / I set myself, on what's become my own behalf / here's how I'm born, here's how I die, and you may ask for anything / polarity and sudden continuity / the scolded problems fret therein // a globe, the buzz / the load of issues tissued onto surface that is skin / to cover me / won't fit inside the covers / that are mine / and make up me / but what made up myself

what say the weird about the wicked
a schism of wine across the boards
of plain and versus news and versus bolder
what stays rustic, pray when ashore

belt down my caffeine with a gasp and dread
reject nutricious complements for
safer deals of sugar holding cards
such do I play my dice but never cheat

will be a while till I do grasp the final sentence
won't contemplate it now, right now,
won't see the earth turn till it turn my way
and be partaker of the low partaken fields

go on and go the finalising distance
to close the bonds and share entirety
the undivided as through broken glass
more scratches break the broken chord

frail overbearing, lenient, the finer choice
such are the finest people of a kind
and may we soon induldge in catty power
we are the super level headed troupers

consequently, of the very uppermost,
superb - so drift away the more superfluous
allow me, windy blows, to gaze upon the sky
and see the stars that dwell within my view