A Post-Modern Portrait – A Poem

“But I like the inconveniences.”
“We don’t,” said the Controller. “We prefer to do things comfortably.”
“But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.”
“In fact,” said Mustapha Mond, “you’re claiming the right to be unhappy.”
“All right then,” said the Savage defiantly, “I’m claiming the right to be unhappy.”
“Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat; the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen to-morrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind.” There was a long silence.
“I claim them all,” said the Savage at last.
Mustapha Mond shrugged his shoulders. “You’re welcome,” he said.

-Brave New World by Aldous Huxley 

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A Post-Modern Portrait

Steel covered sky.
Gun-stock gray rays.
Metallic molten moon.

Where do you turn when the hovering dome
That covers your head is sucked void of joy
Like an eternal vacuum, gasping for breath?

Is this really all there is left –
Empty shells consisting of robotic movements,
Resembling humans, but without hearts beating in their chest?

Why are the pure at heart so easily discarded as trash,
But the deceivers received as gold?
What kind of world do we live in when all meaning has been lost –
A heirloom remembered, but regarded as ancient and old?

I’m afraid the heart seeks a treasure that doesn’t exist,
Washed out by the waves of progress
And swallowed by the deluded ideals of feminists.

Woman, do you want to know why there’s no longer
Knights in shinning armor walking the streets?
Because you have become accustomed to the darkness,
Mated with the dragon, and your pride refuses to admit you’re in need.

Independence and self-reliance have paved the death of the soul.
Romantics lay in anguish,
Lost in a world gone cold.

When the Self becomes king,
Selfishness reigns supreme.
Love is shackled and silenced When “ME” “MY”, and “MINE”
Are the passions and desires the heart screams.

Gun-stock gray flock
Of unfulfilled passionate yearnings
Flutter across the cold, metallic sky.
Heartless, inhumane existence clatters
With each footstep of people passing by.

And I am lost in this game.
I don’t know how to join in the delusions.
I have no desire to come to your miscalculated conclusions.

I don’t know how to still the warm heart beating in my chest.
I have no desire to walk like a lamb to the slaughter
And watch my soul shrivel like all the rest.

I have no desire to play by the rules
Of this revised edition of the Game of Life.
I’ll boldly wait in my alienated prism reflecting the light
Rather than sell my soul and vulnerability for the sake of safety
And step out into that dark night.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley

Woman – A Love Poem For Her

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Woman – A Love Poem For Her

You are like the waves lapping against the shore –
Repetitive, seductive, intoxicating, cleansing
Like holy water that wrings out the darkness.

I sit unceasingly upon the sands of time
Waiting for the rise of your tide,
To feel your waters once more by my side.
Staring off into the drab, gray horizon,
I admire flocks of sea gulls.
Only for a moment, but never long enough
To loose sight of your ebb and flow.

Woman is an ocean –
An endless vessel of mystery.
Who knows the measure of your depths?
Who can see the floor of your soul?
We all float in safety as sailors in the bosom of your rest.

Your ripples are enough to rouse suspicion,
To know that beneath your surface currents rage.
But we all long to dive within your waters
And be nestled within the confines of your embrace.

Your seas are salty,
Yet our tongues still thirst for more.
A water that never satisfies,
But opens the flood gates of passion’s door.

You are like the waves lapping against the shore –
A sweeping hand seducing, gesturing
Us to step away from the safety of land.
Woman, you are the demise and prize
Of the heart of each and every man.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley


 

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Leaving Home – A Love Poem About Rejection and Starting Over 

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Leaving Home – A Poem About Getting Rejected by a Lover

Leaving home and venturing alone
Out across the unfamiliar frontier.
The scenery and signposts are all unknown,
And my heart sags, burdened by hesitation and fear.

Traveling along tomorrow’s highway,
Musing over the miles left behind.
But when you’ve played every card there is to play,
Your eviction notice has been signed.

It’s no easy task to pack up the memories,
Pile your bags high with hopes of what you thought would be.
But when your heart is denied all entries,
It’s clear you’ve been rejected, not set free.

So now one set of footprints mark the journey
Where there once were two.
This road has become winding and curvy
At the thought of starting something new.

But I have no regrets nor reservations;
I did all that I could do.
I’m just weighted down by a trunk filled with frustrations
That I was not worth the fight for you.

I’ll travel on,
Knowing there’s an exit within my sight.
But my heart still worries how you’ll get along
Through your dark and arduous night.

My only concern is for your poor heart –
So blind and was never able to see.
I would have held your hand tightly through the dark,
But instead you’ve settled for misery.

Leaving home and venturing alone,
Determined to not let fear decide my fate.
Far better to blaze a path into the unknown
Than to remain comfortable and stagnate.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley


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Romance’s Introduction – A Poem

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Romance’s Introduction – A Poem

Your lustrous eyes draw me in,
Beckon me closer, uninhibited and unafraid;
Allure me to dive into your deep, refreshing sea
Like a moth mesmerized, hypnotized by a flame.

Your curves caress and cause my carnal desires
To flare up in a blaze as a match to gasoline.
Your emotional depth and vulnerability add fuel to the pyre –
A breathtaking bonfire built upon the balance of romance and sexuality.

Feminine longing whispers to my soul
In wisps of wonder like ceremonial incense from across the room.
And I’m dazed to discover my masculinity rousing to respond;
Aspiring to feed your fragrant flower, nurturing and protecting it until it blooms.

Divine delicacy dwindles in distress –
A soul afraid, yet yearning to emerge from the safety of her cocoon.
And I’m entranced by my need to satisfy,
To unveil your wondrous wings and free the beautiful butterfly that is you.

There is no need to tell me what you desire
For your heat radiates like tongues of fire speaking to my heart.
My lady…I know the intimacy you crave, your sensual tidal wave,
And I’m here to tell you I have more than you could ever want.

So unlock your chamber door, undress your distresses,
Drop your defenses, and hand over your hidden and guarded key.
Romanticism is my essence – no more games or guesses –
For my romantic nature is ravished, ready to devour your beauty.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley


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The Pearl – A Poem

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The Pearl – A Poem

Precious pearl that glimmers somewhere
At the bottom of the sea.
How many shells must I pry open
Before you reveal yourself to me?

Your shell is hard and dirty,
Protecting the smooth gem that resides within.
You may fool the world with your tough exterior
But I know the beauty beneath your skin.

You have not made my search an easy journey,
But I’ll dive to depths unfathomable to hold you.
Oh, you may think you’re not unique or worthy,
But your glimmer has an incomparable hue.

I know you’re scared to be taken from your shell,
But no chest is safer than my heart.
These two hands will protect and never abandon you.
This man is incapable of letting you break and fall apart.

I hold my breath and dive to depths
That others would never dare.
Yes, I risk my death to pull you from the dark,
For to your beauty there is none to compare.

Won’t you come out of hiding
And trust I can do you no wrong?
Won’t you step out of this sea of suffering
And find safety within these arms?

Precious pearl that glimmers somewhere
At the bottom of the sea.
How many shells must I pry open
Before you reveal yourself to me?

-Poem Written by Justin Farley

The Origin of Emotion – A Poem

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The Origin of Emotion – A Poem

To feel is to know.
To know is to feel.
It’s when the green hills of summer become covered with snow
That winter bares its teeth and becomes real.
Do I feel love before I recognize its voice
Or does my mind cognitively realize before my heart?
Does the mind first tell the eyes to become moist
Or do the raging rivers of tear drops flow
When the levees of my heart have been torn apart?
Does emotion start out as a thought or a feeling?
Nestled within the chambers of rational or dream?
Do the bells of chaos exist in my head and ring
Or is it my breast that shrieks and screams?
To know is to feel.
To feel is to know.
I’m fairly certain reality becomes real
Whenever we plant the scattered seeds of life
And where we decide to let them grow.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley

If you enjoyed this post, I would greatly appreciate it if you like, share, or comment on it. Follow my blog to receive notifications when new posts are published. You can find my other Christian poems, Lent poems, love poems or inspirational poems at https://alongthebarrenroad.com/category/poetry/


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The Inner Man – A Poem About Being Afraid To Show Emotion

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The Inner Man – A Poem About Being Afraid To Show Emotion

Can eyes hide the rivers
Of pain that flow inside?
Can ears mute the quaking, shaking
Of a heart that booms
With thunders of broken dreams?
There’s a storm raging inside the man
He doesn’t wish the world to see,
So he puts on his business attire each morning
And paints a bright, thin smile upon his face
With delicate precision and attempts to erase
The evidence bulging out of his interior corridors –
Pain piled up like dirty laundry
Waiting to be washed clean.
He desperately tries to tuck away his past
And puff out his chest in efforts of pride,
But he’s bursting at the seams.
His melancholic madness can only hide
For so long from his daily routine
Until the tear drops and whiskey shots
Reach the top and spill over
Into his public persona.
There’s no shame in admitting defeat.
Hope begins when pride takes a seat,
The paint brush gets put away,
And the heart is allowed to show
Through to the face.
Solitude must be replaced by solidarity.
It is easy to convince ourselves
That no one will understand,
But fellowship in struggles and pain
is shared by each and every man.
It is far time we stop pretending
To be stoic clowns
And have the courage to wear the face in public
We wear when no one else is around.
True masculinity is not being emotionless,
But being tough enough to reveal
The emotions of our soul,
To embrace the inner man
And stop allowing culture to control
Our voice.

-Poem Written By Justin Farley

If you enjoyed this post, I would greatly appreciate it if you like, share, or comment on it. Follow my blog to receive notifications when new posts are published. You can find my other Christian poems, Lent poems, love poems or inspirational poems at https://alongthebarrenroad.com/category/poetry/


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