Crack Justice

Once, in a frat initiation,
I was asked to inhale something by the majors.
Said it was a pure part of nature
And its piece form the purest.
“Don’t cook it,” they said,
“The scent would give a bad trip.”
So I did what they did
And sniffed the stuff in.
I knew they were shards
But I wanted my name in the charts.
I let my nose bleed,
My head losing feels.
Later, I woke up
Feeling under a cop.
I hated being caught
So I grabbed some sort of cup.
Swung it down like a judge
But it wasn’t so tough.
My head was driven to the front
And I smelled something burning up.
One of the cops was smoking stuff
And then to death he choked and coughed.
I got a whiff of it too
And then I understood:
It was that stuff I was warned about
And its name was “Justice”…just as it should.

Another Normal Day in the Life of A Human Being

Another normal day.

“I wanna know the truth!”

Welcome, normal day.

“Is this the truth?”

This is a normal day.

“That’s not the truth…”

Today is still a normal day.

“I don’t understand…”

Quite a normal day, alright.

“Ah, I understand!”

This day is pretty normal.

“Well, that’s good to know!”

Very very normal.

“You can’t hide forever, truth!”

Today is a normal day.

A Normal Day in the Life of A Human Being

Today is a normal day.

“You’re a weirdo.”

Yes, today is a normal day.

“You’re awesome!”

Today’s really a normal day.

“You’re a fool.”

Yup, definitely a normal day.

“You’re alive!”

Ah, yes, a normal day indeed.

“You’re gonna die.”

A normal day…a normal day…

“I made a mistake…”

It is another normal day…

“I did something right!”

Yet again, another normal day…

“I don’t wanna be alone!”

Today truly is a normal day.

“I wanna be happy!”

Surprisingly, today is another normal day.

“What a surprise…”

Today is a normal day.

Eternal Oath of Humanity

I have free will,

I am a fool,

I am strange and complex,

And I can learn, too.

I’m a human who can’t live alone,

A citizen of humanity,

Who wants happiness.

I’m different from other humans

But I am not superior or inferior than them.

I may be selfish at times,

I may think that I’m superior or inferior at times,

And I may contribute to the destruction of humanity at times,

But then I remember,

With the help of some awesome humans

That I can be awesome

And that I can choose to be awesome.

We have free will,

We are fools,

We are strange and complicated,

And we can learn, too.

We want happiness

And one person can’t find it alone

So let’s join hands

And do our best

In brightening up our land.

Tobby’s Poetic Notes on Poetry

Poetry is like a dancing midget

That comes from the world of fiction.

It hops, skips, and twirls

From your palm to your shoulder,

Where it blows your head away

Like the chorus of Kagerou Daze.


Poetry is like a Witch named Charlotte–

Tiny, weak, and light.

Smash it around and blow it up

Until you think that you’ve understood

And big, monstrous, and sharp-toothed

Will turn your head into food.

 

Humanity’s Ultimate Mission

The enemies are those with lives

Centered greatly on themselves:

You and me,

Yourself and myself.

The allies are those with lives

Centered greatly on others:

You and me,

Yourself and myself.

The mission is to find true happiness

And spread it all around

For you and me,

For yourself and myself.

Sin will stand in the way,

Pretending to be true happiness,

Tricking you and me,

Tricking yourself and myself.

Humility is vital

And we need to remember our imperfections

For the control of you and me,

For the control of yourself and myself.

Synergy is key

And we need to remember our potential

For the success of you and me,

For the success of yourself and myself.

More details will be revealed

By the guides scattered along the way:

You and me,

Yourself and myself.

Properly Guided Click and Bang

In front of us foolish youths

Were replicas of a metal hand.

With only one form, it stood:

An upward thumb,

A forward pointer,

And a folded remainder.

They were close to the real thing.

They never released the full sting.

But I could feel a heavy weight

When one of them met my hands,

When my fingers carefully danced,

And whenever I moved to aim.

Some youths laughed with theirs,

Some tried to make them twirl,

And some thought that they were awesome with them,

But while I held my hands’ extension,

I could feel ghosts

Even though I actually couldn’t.

Perforated bodies stood around me.

Their fountain spouts were quite messy.

Cold air embraced my skin.

It seemed like their hands were touching.

Crying and screaming rang in my ears.

I could hear them begging.

The scent of a damaged blood vessel

Was magnified to levels that I’ve never experienced.

My mouth dragged itself down

As it tried to resist the foolish crowd.

Today’s lesson was a massive fate-changer.

Fools will die

If they failed to realize

The metal hand’s true power.

I do not want that to happen.

I do not want them to die.

I do not want these youths

To be like the ghosts around me.

Every click

Reminds me of flame fading from a wick.

Every bang

Reminds me of bodies crashing into land.

Every instructor’s command

Reminds me of the ghosts guiding my hands.

I have never held a true metal hand yet

But today’s lesson taught us how to handle one

So that we can use them to shield ourselves

And shield others as well.

Even a replica of a metal hand

Should never be treated like a replica.

The ghosts taught me that.

“Defend, not destroy.”

“Defend, not destroy.”

“Defend, not destroy.”

Dear ghosts,

As I aim and fire at sin yet again,

Help me keep my pointer on the sin

And keep it away from the captive’s existence.

Reflecting on Unclear News

As the TV comes to life

And as the newspapers enter my sight,

I sense a fog spreading out

From the unclear headlines that I can’t seem to count.

Which are truths?

Which are lies?

Turtles are carrying the scales of justice

Or maybe they’re crocodiles in a palace?

The fog is blocking my sight.

Did I just hear someone cry?

Which are truths?

Which are lies?

I see a lion

Being struck down by a tiger.

Or was it a liar

Striking down another liar?

Which are truths?

Which are lies?

The carabao is working hard

But is its master awake at this hour?

The field seems to be improving

But it still doesn’t seem to be growing.

Which are truths?

Which are lies?

Two roosters are fighting

And at them, many are staring.

While the viewers still keep on gambling,

I think I heard a distressed cry ringing.

Which are truths?

Which are lies?

The fog still isn’t gone

And its reach is still far.

It is time to take my medicine again

And clear the fog of lies within.

I can be great

But I have imperfections.

The deep blue sea of electricity

Has shown me many hopeful possibilities.

I hear cries and I see light

And I call to the Divine Guide:

With my eternally truth-seeking heart,

Help me find and spread the truth.

Lies will never clear the fog

And lies will never get you out of the sludge.

The truth can be bitter medicine

And the truth can be sweet as well.

The Divine Doctor’s prescription:

Habitually finding, absorbing, and spreading truth.

Which are truths? Which are lies?

Clear the fog one step at a time.

A mask tries to cover my face

And I keep on shattering it

Because who would trust a truth seeker

Who keeps on masking their true face?

You Can Be A Nutshellcracker, Too

Humanity may be crappy

With their self-centeredness.

Humanity may be stupid

With all their ignorance.

Humanity seems like it really is hopeless

With all these wars,

With all these crimes,

With all this selfishness.

But, I assure you:

Hope is immortal.

It may sound crazy,

But hope is immortal

Just like despair

And these two forces

Will always be locked in battle.

If you were to ask me

About why I keep on trying to help

In the seemingly stupid idea called

“Making the world a better place,”

Then my reasons would be

Parents who never stopped taking care of imperfect me,

A seemingly unfair but actually kind teacher who helped me stand up against bullies,

A doctor who told me that I can choose to be good, even if a lot of people don’t want me to,

A friend who gave me encouragement,

A YouTuber who believes in his subscribers’ potential for goodness,

A bus conductor who willingly gave money to help a penniless passenger,

A taxi driver who returned a lost suitcase filled with a large amount of money,

A stranger who gave me directions while I was lost,

And so many more reasons that are near and numerous.

With all these beautiful reasons,

I dedicate my life to cracking nutshells.

Not literal nutshell cracking, though.

I mean spreading virtues and stopping sin.

So, I’d like you to keep this in mind:

You can be a nutshellcracker, too,

And if you think that the above statement isn’t true,

Then I’d like to say:

I’m sure that there’s at least one beautiful proof near you.