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Doug Donoughe discusses, through poetry, the actuality of his youthful attractions, the downfalls of his self, and his dissapproval of society's cap on how far a timid honesty is allowed to go.
Absent-minded fantasy
Self-appointed reverie
Listen, won't you come with me?
Life is quite a draining scene.
Beauty and a note at lunch.
Honest shavings left undone.
Come again and come as one
I want to see you when I'm done.
Fully-minded honesty
Silly fruitful apathy
On my honor, I will be
none other than the one you seek.
Heartfelt sorrows in a bunch
All I have is just a hunch
Tomarrow's hopeful, bring so much
And we can feast another lunch.
Never truth should be believed
When knowing naught but be decieved
I found your heart caught on a tree
Like a mailman's dream.
Time, time, go away. I do not want you here. You're self-aware supremecy does naught but hurt my head. Your daughter now she looks away, and I fear for myself. Can I find you in the night or am I lost for good?
--Inconvenience--
I'm sorry to inconvenience your convenience.
There's really nothing I could do.
I'm being chased by, like, zombies and stuff.
And they're after my money.
I was in the park at 4am,
Looking for some pizza cupons and,
These zombies came and were like
"yo"
And I was like "shuttupayozombies"
And they were like "grrrrrrr"
And I was like "gargoyles in my soup?"
And so they were chasing me with knives.
And they were like "glarrrrble".
And I was like "pfffft. blaster"
And so I was running from them.
And they were shooting knives out of their mouths.
And I got this pistol made of lizards.
And shot them with it.
But it didn't work.
So I went to Burger King
And I got some Meatnormouses
And I unleashed the Meatnormouses
And they started eating the zombies.
But now I'm running from the zombie-fed meatnormouses
and I need a place to hide.
---A.R.T.S.---
If we could be friends that would be quite delicious
I'm, like, serious and I want your opinion
We've been fiddling around here for quite a bit
Playing those games on love street
And it's starting to hurt my head
Just out of boredom and desire, you know.
And so I was wondering if we couldn't
Like, become friends now
'Cause you're really beautiful and
I like to look at you and stuff
But you know me I'm not really the "do stuff" type
So we kinda have no were to go
Unless you wanna say something about it
Which would be cool
But otherwise I'm kinda lost
And like if we became friends,
Then we'd be like, in some divine pyramid of steeplness
And I could say "hi" and you could say "hi"
And that'd be great 'cause we like to say "hi" a lot.
And we could laugh about stuff
'Cause stuff is so funny.
Or we could just kiss.
Your call.
- Cancel My Subscription To The Resurrection -
I've stopped being false, or at least I'm starting to go that way
You'll see the darkness of my ways in a little while
I know the beauty and kindness of my actions shines bright from afar
But now that you're up-close, my dear friend,
you will see the skull that resides in the fire.
While I'd like to hold on to my grandeur and romanticisms,
I find myself slipping up and being honest most of the time
Maybe now I'll have a real relationship.
Maybe you can love me now
Maybe I'm a human now
Or maybe now I'll become
what I've always known I've been.
I don't care for your heart or mind
I just care for myself
I'll gladly expend my energies for you
But it will be meaningless.
I'm sorry that I insulted you back there,
I didn't know what I was doing.
I get caught up in these scenes,
Those kinds of situation put my mind in an updraft.
The real me is a machiavellian
The real me is terse to a fault
The real me yearns but never swallows
The me you know brings happiness with him
to the edge of crazy nights and days.
In fact I have to applaud his efforts.
He is quite the gentleman, you know.
I don't understand how such good could come from me.
I have some problems, you see.
Not medical conditions, although I am quite clinically insane
There are some things in my life that I've yet to owe up to.
Someday the things I've ignored will finally bring me down.
Until then, though, I choose to be knowingly unaware.
And despite all my thinking, I never really come up with much.
In the end I'm in the same spot I started, all that's changed is my mind.
My mind has quite a bit of depth range
But how can it be anything but nonesense, as I have never solved my problems.
What do I do about selfishness? I can't very well choose to care.
What do I do about negligence? I can't very well modify my heart.
What do I do with my dissapointment? Is it something I can ignore?
I appreciate what you've done for me, I really do.
The things you've said about me, they almost make me think I'm good.
In the end I do nothing but accept the state of things,
carry on as I have.
But still my hang-ups nag at my sides.
Can I see you naked?
It would intrigue me quite a lot.
You know I see these things in books and on the internet
But none of it ever seems real. I want something with some goddamn substance.
Not that those other things are particularly poor,
But are we really such a daft society that we can't accept the truths?
Can we accept ourselves?
Can we accept beauty and emotion, or will you deny it from me?
I want to know what you're going to do about it.
Can I hold you in my arms?
I think that is something we both could enjoy.
I know I would like it quite a lot.
It would in fact make my day, no it would make my whole year.
The wonder of such an event would overwhelm me.
You see, normal entertainments do not stimulate me.
It is within the depth of my feelings that I find stimulation.
We play games and do rituals of similar nature
But we ignore the simple truth that could be our own to hold.
Still my hang-ups nag at my sides.
But hey, it's better than slicing at my legs.
Enjoy your opportunity to be in stasis while you can.
I'll I've got is ideals, but that's something.
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Poem #2 (Pining for girls) -
Do you love me?
Would you like to spend some time with me?
Because I have to say that I am more than willing to spend time with you.
You've quite intriuged my fancy, you know.
But please, I beg of you, don't leave me to do the asking,
I'll never do it, I don't have the conviction or the sureity.
It's not a simple matter of courage, it's in my philosophies.
That, plus I'm a coward.
But really, I love the way you wear your hair.
And I love the way you talk, especailly to me.
I'd like to watch you do nothing for an hour or more.
I love the way you put your hand to your chest, as if perpetually flattered.
I love the way you smile with such devious sincerity, it's rather sexy.
So here we are in the years,
And neither one of us has a way in.
And is it true that you love me?
I heard someone saying it earlier today.
I have to worn you, that although my affection for you is ample
And I would be more than willing to give a date a try
No matter what arrangements I must make,
I should warn you that I don't believe it will work out.
The thought of me in a conventional relationship doesn't make sense.
I'm not the civics type, and I'm a very primitive man.
Although I'd love to have you as my own, and to be yours unconditionally,
I can't imagine that I wouldn't become bored,
And I could not be asked to maintain a relationship
That doesn't please me.
I can indeed imagine a relationship
Where I am neither bored nor cruel.
But it would take quite an extraordinary person,
And I don't claim tht it would be worth it for them.
Someone would have to really understand my style,
and how I am trying to get by.
I shall write about myself constantly and without boundary
And maybe by freak consequence I will come across that which I am after...
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Poem #3 (The Truth via Starkness and Modest Clicheism)
--
Beauty, beauty, everywhere,
But not a drop to hold.
In the trees and in the air,
And in many of the girls.
The summer sun, the winter moon
The distant sound of Hendrix
Potentials I can fully comprehend
But none that I can achieve.
Are these strong hopes
Just pasts that did not truly occur?
Or are they signs of some mental strife
that I should triumph over?
Is it my fault or is it yours?
Is it solvable at all?
I want to dance in the leaves in Fall
But I've got other things on my mind first.
I do actually believe
That maybe things will go my way
But how can I believe that
When experience has shown me no hope but these ideals
That call to me on the wind's wing
And leave me naught but yearning.
I think it's my fault.
I'm distracted too much.