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CommonStory Sep 2018
Maybe im not the medicine you need

Here it goes

She is suppose to be easy on the eyes

And now overstimulated i can't believe the witness statements

This is boring to me

So she has to learn how to douse it down

Or be herself

But what she

Whats the issue

She has a bigger problem than her breast size

Even though its easy on the eyes

But now im over stimulated

This is just another situation

She's suppose to make me more conscious?

Note it's more self conscious to the obvious

I still dont see what the problem is

She knows its obvious

But now I'm overstimulated
Copyright Matthew Marquis Xavier donald 9/6/2018
I read the newspaper stained in black
I watch the television covered in blood
I listen to the corrupted comebacks
Coming from the people I used to love

The world holds so much negativity
As I try to escape my own
I cower from the harsh world outside
Counting my reasons to be alone

I was raised to fear the world
Just follow what others say
Continue being the passive wallflower
As I count my reasons to stay

Out there is a world where I fall and fail
While my inner world consumes me
Overstimulated and stressed in all kinds
Desperately searching for peace
kenye  Dec 2013
God Fetish
kenye Dec 2013
Cursed with consciousness
Controlled by the cosmic
**** of knowledge

Dripping wet
Drowned out
Overstimulated senses

Turned on
by some higher power
Feeling up
from chakra to chakra

Angels moan in harmony
humming divine madness
through the electric bodies

A touch of fire
forces art from fingertips
forging
copies
of copies
of copies

Created in the image
of constant grace
Burning the original
without a trace
sorry/not sorry for the c-bomb
Jace  Oct 2021
Overstimulated
Jace Oct 2021
It's too loud
Too bright
Too fast

Too many people
Too much choice
Too much noise

Too many things to go wrong
Too many problems that can't be solved
Too many things to do

Not enough time
Not enough space
Not fast enough to compensate

Can't write it as quick as I think
Can't slow my thought down
Can't explain the inside of my brain

Can't explain
Can't explain
Can't explain
Niesha Radovanic Aug 2018
my magnificent mind
has always been a gift
i am in a mystic world
filled with
lively green plants
coated with flower petals
it rained today
mother nature was sad
her and i always feel the same
a twisted funnel in our thick vines
of hair
heartache
because our earth was neglected
the wicked oder from the ocean stamps
our noses with the ink of the
red tide
an ocean of fear
the wave caps curl and burry the dead
pure envy
death is not a place
death is other people
a shoreline of psychedelic tragedy
sand castle graves
lathered in sea salt lotion
overstimulated side effects
my mother gave me the buried treasure
a chest filled with another dimension
built by her daughter
secret garden goddess
of dreams and spirituality
she gave me the key to her soul
threw the honor of mother natures
name and plant aroma
a throne of
leafs and seashell gems
skin of the earth
healing hands of garden therapy
i am my mothers daughter
i will kiss her with
cactus goo lips
as she fills my soul
with mother natures
aura
for
amara
Filomena  Aug 2022
Overstimulated
Filomena Aug 2022
I'm stimulated
Disoriented
Simultaneous
Coordinating

Confusing me
As words contend
A melody
Without and end
Psych ward poetry.
Set 3, poem 9.
Hello, York Suburban! It’s great to be here today, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be...speaking...than right here...with all of my awesome classmates. I can’t believe we made it here, you know, this was a really great experience, going through school and everything. Back in the day, before our generation became obsessed with social media and electronic stimulation, I used to have a past-time that I greatly enjoyed. I don’t practice this...practice, much anymore, but back when I was young, I used to watch cable tv a lot. I know, I’m really dating myself here. When I say dating myself, I mean, we’ve been dating for a little over 18 years, myself and I, that is. Anyway, watching tv, yes, and when I used to watch tv, I saw what our media portrays as a usual high school life. And much like everything the media portrays, I later found out that high school is nothing like how it is portrayed. I used to think it would be a bunch of young adults standing around, talking about each other, with each other, waiting a few tenths of a second for the studio audience to start laughing, that part was definitely only on tv. (If no laughs, move on. If laughs, say, maybe it wasn’t only on tv). Anyway, yeah, they were all standing around talking on tv, so young, gullible me, I thought  I would just stand around and talk for four years. In order to prepare for this activity known as high school, I proceeded to wear what I thought everyone wanted me to wear, I only expressed myself when I thought I should, not when I wanted to. And for my first year, that was about all I did, more or less. I was scared at first, I was defensive and I loved my life back then, but my life was motivated by fear way too much. My whole life changed after that like the sun changes the sky when it rises. There was a light that came into my life, or should I say, the light came from within myself. I had revelations about my motivations, my beliefs, and how I wanted to live my life. Once I started being who I wanted to be and making choices that were good for me and were the choices I wanted, I started to love myself. During my time at York Suburban, thanks to all of the amazing people I interacted with, I learned to love my life more and more every day. I learned that if I continued to express myself, I would increasingly love myself as well. Expressing yourself is so important because it doesn’t just build your confidence, it builds you! When you express yourself, you learn what you like and don’t like about yourself, and that’s what happened to me. Even though a lot of my high school career was unfortunately spent alone, or feeling isolated in some way or another, I really loved watching other people express themselves and have fun. I always wanted everyone to express themselves more because I learned that I love watching people express themselves, it’s the most beautiful behavior I’ve ever seen and that will never change. I learned so much from every person I had the privilege of interacting with, so thanks everyone, you know, that was really great. I love you all! And that won’t ever change. But I can’t promise I’ll remember all of your names, and I don’t expect you to remember many either. Kids these days, you know, always overstimulated by media and smart phones haha. But when you leave, really take yourself with you! Take yourself and hold on to what you love within yourself. That’s enough, you don’t have to hold on to any memories here. Siddhartha Gautama (also known as Buddha) once said, “Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.” It’s sad to leave this all behind, but leave it all behind. It’s ok to be happy and remember the good times, but I love you all, I want you to succeed! Don’t just remember memories, create memories! Keep changing yourself, changing people around you, and changing the world until your body runs out of energy! That’s all I ask. I’d like to thank all of the employees here at York Suburban High School for giving our class a healthy and constructive environment, full of excellent role models, and good life lessons. And thanks to my family too, especially my brother Max, he’s really cool. Also, check out my Hello Poetry account, Nick Gati ;) haha. I had to plug at least one electronic media account, this is our generation! And before I leave, I would like to recite a rap that I wrote.

Class of 2015
Let me say what I mean
I’ve been inside this machine
For four years and I’ve seen
People loving and hating
People giving and taking
People in boots shaking
People with hearts breaking
I’m like Kendrick Lamar without the beats or the fame
I’ve got rhyme and time, I’ve got pride and shame
It took me too long to make my life mine
It took me too long, but I’m right on time
I love being weird here before you all
I love it so much, but let me take this call
“Hello? I am currently giving a speech
Before I go to IUP to learn how to teach.
I’ve gotta speak these bars to try to communicate
How all we need is love, we don’t need any hate
So let me hang up, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
MY WHOLE LIFE has been consumed by too much sorrow
It was hard, at times, to navigate my way
I had times where I’d go days not knowing what to say
Until I found all the answers written in my mind
Until I changed myself and became one of a kind
Thank you all for letting me express myself
And express yourself too, leave your pride on the shelf
Love people, love life, and remember these words,
Life is about listening and letting others know that they’re heard
Meg B  Aug 2021
In the Cloud(s)
Meg B Aug 2021
It’s 5:04 AM, as I lie awake going on hour number two.
I dreamt of you,
As I often do.

I always awake with a jolt,
The tangibility of your simulated self
Jarring,
My senses overstimulated as if we had touched for real.

When I ponder on you, on memories of us
In my conscious mind,
I have a difficult time stringing together
The details of you,
Years apart having left your image
Grainy and unfocused, although effervescent.

Yet when my eyes close,
You make your way clear into focus,
Every detail of your physical and spiritual form so vivid
As if I’m really experiencing you,
As if you’re dreaming of me too,
And we’ve actually escaped to another reality
Where nothing has changed or faded.

Is this where we now reside?
The current version of us is no longer compatible with the software of reality,
Our data kept in the cloud
Where dreams are stored.

It isn’t real in the realness of reality,
But it’s so vivid, more lucid than a lucid dream,
That I can’t shake the feeling that I’m experiencing the real you
In the only form I’m now able to download.
Alex Apples Apr 2013
my skin tingles, overstimulated by the harmless cotton sheets
my stomach leaps, awakened to the enfolding silk of your skin
we flit in and out of consciousness
like drunken butterflies
my head pounds
I realize
the lamplight
the golden haze of "last night"
swirls of a memory
of ecstasy and an oil black record turning
and stopping
and my hand
reaching to flip it over
only to halt, relax, and slip down the nightstand
I strain my eyelids
remembering the forsaken B-side
every muscle aches
every inch of my flesh is spread with warmth
I reach for you
like I reached for the satin vinyl
but like last night
my hand slips into air
the potency of the illusion, the sensory explosion, the ache of losing
cling to my cold sweat in a bittersweet perfume
in the waking hour

so love,

you left me hanging after all
ERR  Apr 2013
165. Zoo 4/4/13
ERR Apr 2013
If you write,
You will realize monstrous things about
Yourself and instead of disappearing they
Will become more eloquent and delicately
Marble carved with years
If you write,
You will hear voices, so many voices
Hypothetical and begging with pain in their
Breath to be made real and feel and **** and die
Only you will see their funeral, know their laugh
If you write,
You will cry oil spills, ***** fruit salad
**** rainbows and beg for grey, murky, bland
The depths pressure crushing; gasping through the highs
The concept mood stretched, you are alive, alive, alive
If you write,
Your shutter flashes double photoed through the day
Will capture the minutia, have your living stuck in past
Endless film rolls overstimulated, document and shelve
Closing eyes, retroactive architect works back
You should write because
To create is to love is to master the manifest
Ink your livelihood eternal, ivory-flesh crumbles and decays
There are those that love the idea of you
You left footprints in the sand
Because
When the silver screaming godgasm hits
You serendipitously and a moment
Feels worth writing down
Things can be right for a while
You will fall in love
Everywhere you go and
Nothing will seem real
You will taste redemption in the
Crunch of an apple or smell wisdom
At the zoo
Tafuta Atarashī Dec 2017
Constellations
Traced for hours
In the dark of night.
Stars and planets
In a universe known
Only to my sight.
Fingers drenched in stardust
From a world that
Knows only my touch.
Senses overstimulated
By a melodic nebula
That draws in my love.
And
I could stare daily
Into the light of
That hidden milky way.
Stare evermore
Into the wonders
Of that universe
That you embody
Filled to infinity
With those precious
And forever blooming
Constellations.
I awaited naked on the bed
Waiting for the fireworks whilst
Fragrant jasmine clung to the air
My heartbeat hastened
Waiting for you to come
Chastened by my wanton ness
All the while awaiting you
Waiting to be cradled.

Elated by the night's promise
I sparkle in anticipation
Overstimulated I fantasise
Fireworks bang, clash and crash outside
Untranslated lust leave me and
The fireworks illustrated.

You, are finally here
My need to be consummated takes hold
You dominate my fire worked state of mind and nakedness
I shake and convulse like a sated rocket
Assassinated on the bed, we culminate
Wasted, elated
Blazoned lovers out animate
The fireworks.
© JLB
HeavenLee Pagan Dec 2017
Have you ever had the kind of tears that seep through closed eyelids? The Waters of your Humanity that penetrate the earth of your body, and the fire of your soul, and the air of your breath? And as they run down your cheeks into the corners of your mouth, you realized the salt of Your Love tastes more like catastrophe paired with creation than an essential mineral of existence? And just when you've convinced yourself that they are a display of destitution you realize they smell more like home than the cookies your grandmother used to make? And to top it off once you felt like you could pinpoint your despair in a word, after that you realize that you didn't know the word for feeling everything? Then you curse the Gods and rejoice in them for making your pain your medicine?
Free Verse

— The End —