Irony

Caught In-between Toxic Thoughts

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Caught In-between Toxic Thoughts

 

Please don't fade away

the Color of jet-black shirts

Tumbling through washes

Forever stressed, stretched, laundered

Just to clean impurities








Author's Notes/Comments: 

 Reedited 07.11.2019, 07.08.2019; 07.03.2019; 07.02.2019; 06.26/27.2019 (for general grammatical &/or semantical errors, misspelled words, & ambiguities/clarifications):  

 

This is, indeed, just another "tanka" exercise.  Like most of the other tankas that have been published here, for the same stated purposes, they were also primarily intended for me to learn from the get-go.  That was the surface reason:  in understanding my own notions of the poetical distinctions between a tanka & a haiku (&/or/versus other poetical forms, their fundamental use as a vehicle for expression in classic/modern/postmodern literature; still considered as modes of expression anyhow despite the varying adaptations even up to now, especially in my investigations of the "indeterminacy of translation", Quine).  Nonetheless, I do not intend to make anything more out of them other than that which was stated, i.e., the didactic part of it.  It neither means anything more than that which was implicitly explained nor anything else that may possibly be assumed (assumptions that may also be expected, which might precede these developments as they get showcased or self-published).—Because it is also a learning experience, so to speak a synonymy of a learning objective, I solely wanted to learn (& relearn the essences) about how language(s) (or theories of language, in general) are distinguished in respect to its many contradistinctions/aspects/properties/use/etc., ie., descriptivism vs prescriptivism, how those [said features] interrelate to meaningfulness/meaninglessness to either myself or others, & penultimately how the Japanese, themselves, supposed to have intended their own expressions/ideas to mean—in relation to my "own" usage).  Of course, that could still mean going to back to historical accounts of their own systematized body of knowledge in its foundational knowledge (as pertains to literature & those multifarious factors that have mainly contributed to those movements (i.e., in their art forms).  I know of the basic premises..that there must exist, either metaphysically or empirically, a divide between two cultural traditions and how my poems could be considered too synthetic, by comparison.  An intellectual's pursuit (e.g., his intellectualisation about anything, or for the matter at hand) can be only deemed so (a so-called "claim", even by him); one may even seem to appear megalomaniac, because like a maxim, that's how intellectualizing may look like (e.g., that's how it may appear to work within a particular linguistic/phenomenological/logical system).  But more than this, there is still an overriding principle which is my aim, i.e., to further analyze the philosophical distinctions between them, as well (when observed through a wide-ranging lens or purview/scope which also could mean its "analyticity" in regards to theoretical analyses that span intersubjectively, e.g., trans-/inter-/multi-/cross-disciplinarity).  Pretty much how Quine have been said to have arrived at one of his theses about translation &/or his ideas on synonymy—as by having his pragmatic stance on one of those said theses (versus, in what I've studied so far, e.g., logicists/logical positivists vs. the continental philosophers' take on Linguistic Philosophy & other sociolinguistical concepts and theories which I will mention in the next instance when given a chance).  There is no definite goal to be achieved right now, but for my own self-discovery of my casual use of language by its direct/indirect applications (about effective communication/communicative action) and for enhancing my unripe understanding of the dichotomies involved in  semantics/pragmatics/syntactics/semiotics which could be one instance alone of that exercise in my daily application.  It is, in fact, a part of current curricula in Sociology & Psychology (according to one of my co-workers).  In an English-speaking world, where English is predominantly taught as primary subject matter in most learning institutions, my self-directed studies may be deemed significant by my own standard of measure due to it has given me a good start to align certain variables versus many other linguistic factors/phenomena (social phenomena) & other traditions in the Western analytic tradition (in Philosophy, as by the use of the English language or its translations from German & French or Latin/Greek for use in both Continental & Analytic Philosophy).  Howsoever, this concept that I just had formed here may be deemed insignificant by others, e.g., in another [specified] way or contrastingly. It is both a phenomenon and a noumenon (e.g., if one should go by Kant's basic descriptions of such).

Karma Comedian

I use to laugh at ironic things
No punishment for the bad deeds
The Bible says that good 10 fold 
The universe returns to us in gold 
That fairytales and nursery rhymes 
Exist to scare and keep us in line
But on this day fate stepped in 
And karma it seems is a comedian 
A lesson weaved throughout every line
Carefully crafted as a warning sign
It was a day like any other 
As usual jumped in the shower 
Quickly washed and rinsed my hair
Noticed too late that it was NAIR!
Every luscious lock and strand
Fell out completely in my hand
What seems like a sick joke being played
Or demented parts a malicious prank
A plot unfolded my part the lead
The lines straight from a horror scene 
Like laws of nature or earths gravity 
The rules we bend to suit our need
Like a boomerang’s invisible path 
It seems to follow when it comes back 
Even the ocean and it’s changing tides
Needs the moon’s persuasive side
We are the keepers of what we seek
And what we sow we indeed will reap
The nightmare that we fear the most
Comes back to haunt us like a ghost
Like Peter Pan and Captain Hook
Just a good story in a children’s book
what if the earth gets bored of us
And decides that we are entertainment 
those characters we read as kids
Like Pinocchio or the 3 little pigs 
Sleeping beauty or the ogre Shrek 
You thought was funny as a sketch 
Brought to life would pose a threat 
Although to you this seems far fetched
The truth Ive written has not been stretched 
I hope you read this and know as fact
What you put out there will soon come back

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Irony

The world over I see,


Inane irony cackles at me!


Society is awash with it,


For the people hypocrite!


 

I cannot change alone,


Yet someone has to start,


Why not me?


I feel from the heart.


 

Myriads may follow later,

 

Let’s commence for a change greater!

View kingofwords's Full Portfolio
tags:

Of Dawn and Dusk

It’s getting late, she whispered,

as the still and quiet cold crept on toward morning,

growing ever later, yet earlier all at once.

A spark of wonder and confusion comes

at Irony’s secret wonders in paradox, 

working seamless and harmoniously entwined.

 

The ticking hands of time press on like locomotives,

never looking back, but knowing well from whence they came.

Simple, yellow lines guiding wheels away from home,

to wooded, winding paths and barren, burning plains, 

such that the hands of clocks work wonders in themselves.

 

A boy yearns to speed the present, yet a man to yield it,

a driver searches for the city, yet wants the road once idle.

Embrace the night, for there lies the miracle that all might have their hope.

 

The night, it grows later, yet the day begins anew again.

English Class

Folder: 
Poems

Roses are red,

Violets are blue.

I hate this class.

I want to kill you.

 

Shut the fuck up!

Just let me be.

I don't give a shit

about what you're teaching me!

 

This class is bull-shit!

I hate every minute!

You bore me to death,

why don't you get it?

 

Every passing minute,

my anger flares!

Why can't you see

that nobody cares?!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

So... yeah, this piece was written when I was in english class and I was very fed up with the material and teacher. Thus brought about this rage enduced gem, so enjoy! I do apologize if you are offended by foul language, but I feel that I shouldn't censore how I'm feeling. Anyways, criticism of any kind is welcome and appreciated!

View eebee's Full Portfolio

Irony

Is it funny when things on this planet sometimes don’t make sense? 
One individual makes false statements and promises; the truth shines in evidence
Trust resembles a mirror once it’s broken - - it’s hard to believe in between the given dialogue lines
It’s amusing how they would say, "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words may never hurt me." 
When in all reality, the words left behind pierces the heart more than the naked eye can see
Their sharpened ends from the fractured glass pieces could puncture one’s mentality if they are not strong enough
One will stay a child if only they allow rough situations to consume and not stay tough
And if they never get over what is holding them back than who are they to judge a real man or woman’s moves?
Our time on Earth is always a battle judged by the superior one upstairs whether we win or lose
Hypocrisy and Irony is two of the troublesome things in life we face each day
The more uneducated people grow and change the more common sense fails in their ways
Even in any type of relation – Friendship or Relationships sometimes the outcome isn’t what we expect
The words we spit isn’t what it seems generating an illusion of trust which breaks making us fall apart in regret

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Give positive feedback and good criticism!

View wordidealist's Full Portfolio
tags:

The Irony Of Possession

 

...............

 

keeping someone locked 

inside a chamber or a cell

is not a punishment to them,

as much it is your own self made hell.

 

accept the delusion,

within your mind,

you will then be free,

and life will be more kind.

 

you're nobody different,

from anyone else in this game,

half of you is different,

and half is the same.

 

so we are all different,

and we are all the same,

but you seem not to want to accept that,

you still want to think your 100% special,

 

that, to me,

is a pitiful shame.

 

 

5:37 PM 7/18/2013 ©

 

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/07/19/opinion/prison-failures-we-all-pay.html?_r=1&

 

..........

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A Demon Seed.

The human condition? A state of attrition!
No wonder they all get depressed.
What with organs that fail, and bodies that ail?
It can’t leave them all that impressed
With whatever has caused, them to be so disposed
In a flimsy, pain sensitive sack.
An abomination. A joke of creation?
Where dreams surpass gifts that they lack.
The frustration of hope. The slippery slope
They slide down, as their world comes apart.
Hardly a wonder they stumble and blunder
In efforts they dare to call art.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Please don't anyone take this personally, it's just a regular oldie moan.

View coryllus's Full Portfolio
tags:

Wall of I

There were old walls left standing
in wake of mass collapse.
They held fixtures and railways,
old and aging megaphones,
robbed of speech, impotent,
but symbols that echoed prior voice.

Of few survivors, one aspect crossed
borders to true neutrality
and became lost there for days.
He returned changed and so haggard,
like a cripple lost among desert dunes.
When he would kneel and vomit,
he could expel only muddy water.

And everyone was robbed of words
that were not bathed in metaphor.
All windows fogged, all mirrors obscured;
all means of conveyance and climb
fell into stupid, frantic disuse.

After the air became thicker and dense,
we'd only see ambiguous blurs
to accompany any sort of presence;
any sort of approaching touch.
We'd swipe at them like feral beasts,
lest they rob us, lest they bore us;
lest they attempt to ignore us.

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