Wasteful with Words

VUNDERKIND’S NOTE: “I am not going to take anything away from this piece with pseudo-funny anecdotes. The author of this post craves anonymity, so his name shall be signed ‘anon’ at the end, but he is someone you and I know so well. You are invited to hazard a guess as to who this is…”



Red stains where blacks fail

There is power in blood

Seeping through the black ink of quill

Flow of nature energy, chi

Poetic mimicry

Of sounds

And of darkness

And of blood

And countless wars

They keep me up at night



I find that in all sincerity

I am wasteful with words.


Songs soothe by themselves

Trees tilt slightly

Tug of breeze

I hear hushed melodies

The faintest of exaltations

The voice of God

Lacking in logic, obviously

Full of purpose, not apparently

Scorned by the wise of the land

I am proclaimed insane

For I claim to hear when God speaks

They say isn’t it a dream?

Faint constructions of a feeble mind?

They clerics laugh at me

For they say God does not speak in the decibels of men

What is all this profanity you speak? They ask

They mock and goad, much like the Jews did Jesus

But severely lacking in understanding, father forgive them

I am cursed, for I am wasteful with words.


To be a connoisseur of words,

Is no small deal

To shape

To create

To think

I thought and so it was

As near to God as gods claim to be

Capital differences, all semantics in the end

Sacrificing reason on the altar of political correctness

I have a library full of books up there you see haha

There as in right here, in the towers I built

Through mind’s eye I see clearly

I see what you must see

You see it too don’t you?

Surely everyone must

Is this presumptuous of me?

But it is glaring

Right there for the taking

Surely you must see

They look upon me with disdain

But you do, you see it too

Why oh why

Why do you close lips?

But your eyes, they betray you

You see but you do not speak of,

Is this wisdom?

Am I stupid?

Oh God I’m stupid

Forgive my profanity

For I am wasteful with words.


Burning in a time of blinding peace

Seeping rather rapidly like bursts of steam through volcanic rocks

Temperatures that put the fires of hell to shame

To destruction I am sired

Inhibitions the devil’s to tame (Can you imagine? Gosh)

Call me stupid ‘cos I believe in God

Call me plebeian oh great hedonist sir

For you devote your life to the pursuit of sin

Color me fanatic but you will all go to hell while I make heaven

The last days creep on us, at lightning speed

The perfect paradox to an end destined with irony

I preach apocalypse

I fear death, so alive I live in fear

Waiting for the day of reckoning

Pay me no mind please

For once again I am wasteful with words.

I find that words escape me when I need them the most

For how else will I declare love to my beloved?

Words should hang for their crimes

But the infiniteness of words make this almost impossible

Antonyms tell of opposites, words negate words

Synonyms deal in solidarity

Sarcasm masks scorn in fur

Puns tell truths, half-truths and lies,

Oh how I marvel at the beauty of words

For words are implicit in meaning

Words are defined in words

Words stay eternal by association

For a word is a definition in itself

I am a writer at the greatest disadvantage

For there is just no winning against the tyranny of words

I will never win,

The most I can do is be wasteful with words.



12 thoughts on “Wasteful with Words

  1. Justin this has your signature all over it, but there’s something religious like about this piece that sounds unlike you. Other options? Uluthrix or dunni. Janus? Tushe? Blaq? I don’t know and I doubt. Wait. Paetir? Ok paetir maybe. Most likely.
    This piece is good no doubt. The writer seems to be flawless. The message is quite veiled (I don’t know). The topic is being wasteful with words but the message is beyond that.
    The line “to destruction I am sired” seems out of place in that stanza, from my point of view I see the first three lines portraying the masssive urge to write (or how badass your piece is) but that destruction line just seemed odd. Other than that, dope piece anon. Very good stuff.
    You see the laughs, the anonimity, words in brackets et al suggests this is paetir’s handiwork.


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