Poetry 2

The Ideological Mantra
By: Jeremy Ridnor

I’m oscillating like a pendulum through this precarious life
The past drifts away from me in the nostalgic wind of time
In my primordial state I felt a sense of nirvana
During this limbo state I am neither alive or dead
Once I make my pilgrimage out of the womb I immediately begin the process of metamorphosis
Like a cookie cutter mold I am shaped into the person that one sees today
The arbitrary culture conditioned me to view the world in a certain wayI refuse to see the world with ethnocentric eyes
But I am a victim of Pavlovian propaganda which plagues my impressionable and jejune mind
Society delegates what I should wear, what I should eat, and what I should believe inI am beguiled by this ideological prison
So I go to school, get an education, get a job, find a wife, have some kids, retire, have grandchildren, and then die
I am constantly solicitous and apprehensive about my future aspirations
The past is covered with a blanket of dustAnd the future is pervaded with a thick fog
A never-ending cycle of me battling with regrets and expectations until I inevitably expire
So what is the cliché moral of the nihilistic poem
Life regrettably only has a finite amount of moments that arouses pure elation
Savor as many pleasure as one can handle at any given juncture
Besides that my advice is display a toothy grin throughout the other trite parts of life
And as the mantra goes, fake it ’till you make it

This is a visual representation of my poem “The Ideological Mantra”

Scattered Thoughts
By: Jeremy Ridnor

Conceiving through vaginal sex over and over one spermatozoon at a time
Populating the earth with more troglodyte Neanderthal, what happen to evolution
History a broken record indubitably repeats itself
It must be because our society is plague with amnesia
America the home of freedom fries and chocolate milkshakes
A roly-poly happy meal nation gorges on their corn-feed bovine meat
Capitalist porcine will gladly buy anything that will give them a chubby
Sex sells, it is not an opinion it is a fact except it has to be heterosexual in nature
Technology we love are technology
There is a plug for everything, I am surprised we have not plugged a cord permanently into to our anal cavity, because we are basically sodomizing ourselves on a daily basis with these wasteful technological gadgets
Our eyes glued to our devices
We are stuck in a virtual world
What happen to being cultured, instead we associate ourselves with pop culture
Who cares if Miley Cyrus got a Drunken and Disorderly Charge read a book
Civil rights are not convenient for the conservative nut-jobs
Those ancient non-progress ignoramus need to be taken out of office
There is this preconceived notion that we have to vote for the less of two evils
How do we have these religious bedlamites running this country
These theological philosophies of Western Culture are in simplistic terms are retarded
Religion is dangerous to the mind, it is Pavlov-like conditioning; in other words it brain washing
Those greedy, child molesting, hypocritical, hedonistic, extremist religious people are anything but holy
We are who we are based on our obscure culture and upbringing
Those fresh youthful minds are molded by their irresponsible parents
Emerge out from the dark age
Praise higher education
Vote for sanity
Have faith in humanity
Drink Tea
Support Theater
And make peace


The Ideal
By: Jeremy Ridnor

The ideal, the ideal, what’s my ideals
I don’t need some pinup doll wearing a pair of pink high heals
I’m not shallow, I don’t just care about looks
I want girl who can really hit the books
I’m in no rush I can wait,
Oh and if she was a liberal that would be great
Now I’m not picky, I’m not asking for you to be sympathetic
I just want a sane girl who’s not some religious fanatic
Perhaps a girl with existentialist views
And maybe by culture she could be a Jew
Now I know what you’re thinking my standards are too high
But at least I’m not some desperate guy
I don’t need to drink and take narcotics, that’s not my propriety
Trust me I am much better off when I maintain my sobriety
Why do you always go for that Abercrombie & Finch wearing jerk
I’m the one that put in all of the hard work
And can’t I just find a girl who has a big heart
One that will love me and laugh when I fart
Is it so much to ask to have a woman to sit on her fanny
And grow old watching movies with me until she turns into a granny
Can’t I find a girl who likes theater, but is not melodramatic
This concept I have to be emphatic
And why does the nicest guy always get the short end
Always with the cliché lines, and we end up as the friend
I know I’ll find that girl who can actually be frugal
But hopefully I won’t have to search for her on Google
P.S. there is no such thing as soul mate
Forget what you heard and forget fate
If you like me and I like you
Then why don’t you just be honest and true
Quit with the Degrassi-like romantic game
These juvenile actions are really kind of lame
Now that I’ve vented I guess I will just deal
But oh how I wish for my true ideal.

By: Jeremy Ridnor

As I travel towards the rising sun
Going around forty-five miles an hour
I see nothing in front of me
But the daydreams which plague my mind

I yield as the light fades into red
I sit there having no recollection of how I got there
In this dreary state I lie in limbo
I am neither awake or sleeping

Time to move

I continue on my way letting my instincts take over
As I precariously drift my eyes to the right
I initially see nothing of interest
People strolling on the side walk, cars being parked

But then there it was
A man sitting on the side of the road motionless
He was frozen like a statue
His jaw slack and his wide pale eyes were bulging out of skull

But just a glimpse

No one seems to notice this man
Was he invisible or did people only pretend he was
For that millisecond that I caught his eye
I saw nothing but an empty shell that once was a man

Was this just a figment of my imagination?
Perhaps just another daydream
I saw a glimpse of death
I saw a glimpse of death

On the side of the road

Squirming on the Ground
By: Jeremy Ridnor

A beacon of light illuminates the bathroom doorway
I am greeted by the gently humming sound of a fan
A familiar face stares back at me with those moon shaped eyes
As I closed the door from within the bathroom
I notice a brownish speck being revealed from underneath

As the rush of air that passes by the brown speck resides
I finally start to contemplate what this thing might be
I bend down in order to examine this enigmatic speck more closely
Then without of doubt I know exactly what it is

This brownish speck was not a speck at all
It had six flaccid lifeless legs that pointed upward towards the ceiling
This repugnant creature made my skin crawl
With its cloudy black eyes and its shell-like exterior

I do not wish to personally dispose of this creature
It was the nocturnal hour and I was alone
So I grabbed an empty envelop and attempted to scoop it up
As I did it began to squirm slowly in a cha-cha like motion

This deeply perturbed me and I was in slight shock
This was no exoskeleton cadaver
This was a struggling bug that had a grim fate
Inevitably it was going to have to die

I scanned the bathroom for potential lethal weapons
The first thing I grabbed was a can of air freshener
The creature began to squirm more rapidly
As it drowned in the lemon scent froth

The squirming eventually stopped
It hurts me to torture anything, even a bug like this
I shrug off this homicide and proceed to grab my tripod
I tapped it and to my surprise it moved a single leg

It was still alive how was this possible
The tremendous pain and agony it most being going through
With slight hesitation I punctured the exoskeleton
The sound of a loud crunchy sound made me cringe

I tap it again hoping that the termination was over
But it still moved ever so slightly
Once again I smash this poor thing to a flat lifeless body
Without checking I pick up it up with the butt of my tripod

I quickly toss it into the toilet bowl
I watched as it floated in this cesspool of filth
Some limbs aimlessly floated astray from the creature
I cannot stand to look at this pathetic broken body

As I flush it down into the sewers
I wonder to myself is it over
Here I am traumatized over a little half dead cockroach
But I’m not the one swirling down into tunnel of human waste

Eradicating Technology
By: Jeremy Ridnor
June, 14 2011

My blood shot eyes glaze over as I stare at the illuminated screen
The muffled sound of the ticking clock is enveloped by the sounds of a sneezing panda
These images are branded and engraved into my impressionable mind
The digital microcosm known as the world wide web becomes my only reality
I am inundated with too much information and entertainment
Social networks ironically suppress my desire to be social
Stimulating the brain while simultaneously repressing critical thought
A generation distracted by technological gadgets
Nature is ignored
Relationships are ignored
Over consumption is an understatement
We are imprisoned by technology
Our society is sinking into a technological quick sand
Our bodies becomes shells and our minds slowly drift away
If only I could eradicate technology
If only we could eradicate technology