POETRY

Living expressions of inner work. Offered as a glimpse of the process towards radical self-acceptance, healing, and growth.

Poetry, A Requiem, wage slave Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem, wage slave Zachary Phillips

Forgotten

Eventually
The day will come
When
You are thought of
For the last time

When
All evidence
Of your existence
Has vanished

When
Even your descendants
Have forgotten
Your name

When
Every atom
Of your body
Has been recycled

Then
All that will persist
Of you
Will be the subtle impact
Of your brief touch
Upon the collective consciousness
Of humanity

 

Eventually
The day will come
When
You are thought of
For the last time

When
All evidence
Of your existence
Has vanished

When
Even your descendants
Have forgotten
Your name

When
Every atom
Of your body
Has been recycled

Then
All that will persist
Of you
Will be the subtle impact
Of your brief touch
Upon the collective consciousness
Of humanity


 
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Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

Vestiges Of Civilisation

 

What terrifies me
More than anything
Is the realization of
How little
It would take
For all vestiges of civilization
To fall away

When naked and afraid
When hungry and alone
Man becomes beast
Either attacking for resources
Or attacking to defend them

Tell me
What wouldn’t you do to survive?

Tell me
What makes you different from a savage
Other than the happenstance of your birth?

Tell me
Why you think you are saintly enough
To act any different?

I am terrified
Because I know what I will do
If pushed


 
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Poetry, bound to the wings Zachary Phillips Poetry, bound to the wings Zachary Phillips

Want To See?

Want to see?
Want to see what it’s like to be me?
Held firm
By an internal decree
A child’s plea
Begging to be understood
Begging for should
Accepting what could be done
No fun
No sun
A fantasy discarded
Lambasted
Contrasted
Plastered by a bastard
Those memories lasted
Despite all effort
Resonating through time
A drunken crime
By human slime
Barely tame
Internal shame
Contemplating blame
Dualistic probabilities
Hostilities causing liabilities
My capabilities prohibited
My disabilities exhibited
My responsibilities limited
Limitation
Commiseration
Cessation
Mental castration
Not to win
Just to fit in
To control sin
To begin again
With the chagrin of my skin
Dulled by gin
Lulled into a stupor
A survival trouper
With one mission
Granting admission
To the child within
The beguiled one
The half mild one
The defiled one
A wild one
Seeking a gun
For some momentary fun
For you, me, and everyone
Dark thoughts
A catalyst
An internal antagonist
But don’t worry
It’s just a story
A fiction
Momentary glory
A bestowment of a moment
A direct line
From a past in decline
I’m no longer prime
No longer mine
No
Please stop
Please don’t
Don’t stop?
He won’t stop
Never did
My words as memory
My words as curse
Painful flashback
Of a smack
A shack
Of blackness I can’t track
Down that path lies an abyss
Oh, so easy to dismiss
Focus on the kiss
Focus on the bliss
Just don’t reminisce
Else it’s just psychotherapy
Spoken lethargy
Pills as energy
Wills to pay the bills
Because didn’t you know the past kills?
But I’ll last
Today’s a contrast
A sky overcast
A rainbow diet, a fast
Focus on the good
Focus on the wow
Focus on the now
Problem is, 
I don’t know how
Thoughts like locusts
Focused moments
Total destruction
Mental construction
Limited production
But that’s the point right?
Act tight
Think light
Avoid the night
Focus on the might
And get functional
Make my presence stomach-able
I’ll fit in
After social conditioning
Personality change
To the acceptable range
Not to what I would have been
Not to what should have been seen
Just a benchmark to glean
A dependency to wean
Getting off, on getting off
Abstaining as control
Life’s toll
So droll
A new personality
A twisted mentality
Complete with an acceptable morality
Born of brutality
A beastly formality
A childhood totality
Obsessed reality
A focus compressed
To a past expressed
As present solidarity
To the commonality
A survivor’s modality
Truth is,
I’m not alone
There are many broken homes
Many similar pleas
Boys thinking they’re she’s
Girls dreaming of degrees
Only to freeze
Triggered by a sleaze
Just a look of displease
Is all it takes
To land us back on our knees
A war eternal
Repeated in a journal
Blaming the external
For pain internal
There is no end
A rumination of pain
A brain stain
A drain of focus
A struggle to attain
To abstain
Life’s a circle
A cycle to break
To break-free of
So, the question remains
Do you still want to know me?
Do you still want to see?
Or is this all just a fantasy?
A compassionate conspiracy
Or an unwitting enquiry
Just back out politely
That’s what I do
Dissociative mental crew
Dig deep
Mental leap
Back to the creep
Back to me feeling like sheep
Just another cheap reap
Just another statistical bleep
I weep
Hiding in sleep
Hiding in myself
With a cold disposition
To your inquisition
And sanitised a presentation
A social prohibition
A DSM condition
My worst symptom?
Oversharing admission
A granted commission
Disguised by a mission of ambition
To thrive
To survive
To stay alive
Ah,
Such lofty goals
How I can be so blithe?

 

Want to see?
Want to see what it’s like to be me?
Held firm
By an internal decree
A child’s plea
Begging to be understood
Begging for should
Accepting what could be done
No fun
No sun
A fantasy discarded
Lambasted
Contrasted
Plastered by a bastard
Those memories lasted
Despite all effort
Resonating through time
A drunken crime
By human slime
Barely tame
Internal shame
Contemplating blame
Dualistic probabilities
Hostilities causing liabilities
My capabilities prohibited
My disabilities exhibited
My responsibilities limited
Limitation
Commiseration
Cessation
Mental castration
Not to win
Just to fit in
To control sin
To begin again
With the chagrin of my skin
Dulled by gin
Lulled into a stupor
A survival trouper
With one mission
Granting admission
To the child within
The beguiled one
The half mild one
The defiled one
A wild one
Seeking a gun
For some momentary fun
For you, me, and everyone
Dark thoughts
A catalyst
An internal antagonist
But don’t worry
It’s just a story
A fiction
Momentary glory
A bestowment of a moment
A direct line
From a past in decline
I’m no longer prime
No longer mine
No
Please stop
Please don’t
Don’t stop?
He won’t stop
Never did
My words as memory
My words as curse
Painful flashback
Of a smack
A shack
Of blackness I can’t track
Down that path lies an abyss
Oh, so easy to dismiss
Focus on the kiss
Focus on the bliss
Just don’t reminisce
Else it’s just psychotherapy
Spoken lethargy
Pills as energy
Wills to pay the bills
Because didn’t you know the past kills?
But I’ll last
Today’s a contrast
A sky overcast
A rainbow diet, a fast
Focus on the good
Focus on the wow
Focus on the now
Problem is, 
I don’t know how
Thoughts like locusts
Focused moments
Total destruction
Mental construction
Limited production
But that’s the point right?
Act tight
Think light
Avoid the night
Focus on the might
And get functional
Make my presence stomach-able
I’ll fit in
After social conditioning
Personality change
To the acceptable range
Not to what I would have been
Not to what should have been seen
Just a benchmark to glean
A dependency to wean
Getting off, on getting off
Abstaining as control
Life’s toll
So droll
A new personality
A twisted mentality
Complete with an acceptable morality
Born of brutality
A beastly formality
A childhood totality
Obsessed reality
A focus compressed
To a past expressed
As present solidarity
To the commonality
A survivor’s modality
Truth is,
I’m not alone
There are many broken homes
Many similar pleas
Boys thinking they’re she’s
Girls dreaming of degrees
Only to freeze
Triggered by a sleaze
Just a look of displease
Is all it takes
To land us back on our knees
A war eternal
Repeated in a journal
Blaming the external
For pain internal
There is no end
A rumination of pain
A brain stain
A drain of focus
A struggle to attain
To abstain
Life’s a circle
A cycle to break
To break-free of
So, the question remains
Do you still want to know me?
Do you still want to see?
Or is this all just a fantasy?
A compassionate conspiracy
Or an unwitting enquiry
Just back out politely
That’s what I do
Dissociative mental crew
Dig deep
Mental leap
Back to the creep
Back to me feeling like sheep
Just another cheap reap
Just another statistical bleep
I weep
Hiding in sleep
Hiding in myself
With a cold disposition
To your inquisition
And sanitised a presentation
A social prohibition
A DSM condition
My worst symptom?
Oversharing admission
A granted commission
Disguised by a mission of ambition
To thrive
To survive
To stay alive
Ah,
Such lofty goals
How I can be so blithe?


This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

 
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Poetry, bound to the wings Zachary Phillips Poetry, bound to the wings Zachary Phillips

Why Does It Feel

Why does it feel like I’m all alone?
Like my house isn’t my home,
Like I’m running from the unknown?

Why does it feel like it shouldn’t be this way
Like my nerves are on display,
Like I’m living as prey?

Why does it feel like my mind’s full of trash?
Like my intentions are ash,
Like I’m hoarding my father’s stash?

Why does it feel like I’m under attack?
Like my actions lack,
Like I’m waiting for a smack?

Why does it feel like it will never end?
Like my words offend,
Like I’m expected to pretend?

Why does it feel like everyone is lying?
Like my dreams are dying,
Like I’m only supported when crying?

Why does it feel like these words aren’t enough
Like my life isn’t so rough,
Like I’m creating demons from fluff?

Why does it feel like I’m a total fraud?
Like my soul just wants you to applaud,
Like I’m fundamentally flawed?

 

Why does it feel like I’m all alone?
Like my house isn’t my home,
Like I’m running from the unknown?

Why does it feel like it shouldn’t be this way
Like my nerves are on display,
Like I’m living as prey?

Why does it feel like my mind’s full of trash?
Like my intentions are ash,
Like I’m hoarding my father’s stash?

Why does it feel like I’m under attack?
Like my actions lack,
Like I’m waiting for a smack?

Why does it feel like it will never end?
Like my words offend,
Like I’m expected to pretend?

Why does it feel like everyone is lying?
Like my dreams are dying,
Like I’m only supported when crying?

Why does it feel like these words aren’t enough
Like my life isn’t so rough,
Like I’m creating demons from fluff?

Why does it feel like I’m a total fraud?
Like my soul just wants you to applaud,
Like I’m fundamentally flawed?


This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

 
Read More
Poetry, bound to the wings Zachary Phillips Poetry, bound to the wings Zachary Phillips

Upon Waking

what we had
together
was but a pleasant dream
real
only while asleep
yet merely
a phantasm
upon waking

your perfume
forgotten
a nightly fancy
turned nightmare
the stark morning light
now
smells grim
upon waking

 

what we had
together
was but a pleasant dream
real
only while asleep
yet merely
a phantasm
upon waking

your perfume
forgotten
a nightly fancy
turned nightmare
the stark morning light
now
smells grim
upon waking


This poem is from the book Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

 
Read More