The word, defining, muzzles; the drawn line
Ousts mistier peers and thrives, murderous,
In establishments which imagined lines

Can only haunt.  Sturdy as potatoes,
Stones, without conscience, word and line endure,
Given an inch.  Not that they're gross (although

Afterthought often would have them alter
To delicacy, to poise) but that they
Shortchange me continuously:  whether

More or other, they still dissatisfy.
Unpoemed, unpictured, the potato
Bunches its knobby browns on a vastly
Superior page; the blunt stone also.

Warning: Use dis list in context.*

You decide on which side you fall.

disappear
disregard
disaster
displace
disqualify
disrepair­
disturb
dissipate
disability
dispose
dismal
distribute
distrust
­disturb
discriminate
discuss
disdain
disguise
dishearten
disinher­it
disown
disparage
disagree
disgruntle
disclose
discolour
disput­e
disarm
discover
disassemble
disadvantage
disallow
dispossess
di­scontent
discontinue
disrespect
disincline
discomfort
disrepute
d­ishonest
disillusion
dishonor
dismiss
disobey
disjoin
disappoint
­discipline
discord
discern
discrete
disfigure
disconnect
disappro­ve
discharge
disbar
disease
discord
disfavor
disengage
disassocia­te
discipline
discount
disembody
displace
dissaray
disembowel
dis­combobulate
discredit
discourse
disentangle
disenfranchise
disemb­ark
discard
disburse
disbelief
discover
disable
disagree
disinteg­rate
dismay
dispense
dislodge
disclaimer
disapprove
dissatisfy
di­srupt
dispel
dislike
dismantle
disloyal
disbatch
disrobe
disperse­
display
disaprove
disciple
disavow
disconcert
disinfect
disorder­
dismal
dismember
displease
dissemble
disunity
dislocate
distort
­distrust
distress
dissolute
disassociate
distill
discect (?)
distemper
distain
distasteful
distraught
dissolve
dissonant
d­issuade

And dis isn't de end.

She stares past as her life flies by,
some memories sweet
while others dissatisfy.

She remembers she was 8
and her dad pushing the swing
with muscular ease
as her hair swayed
with the honey-suckle breeze.

She remembers her 15th summer
racing on through
bringing with it raging hormones
and ***** boys.

She remembers bitter tears
shed on mother's caring shoulder
when Robert said that they were over.

She remembers prom and
mistakes she made
and the boy who never again
glanced her way.

She remembers the agony
9 terrible months later brought
for a tiny, screaming baby
and she remembers the love that grew
in spite of the pain.

She sits on that bench and
quietly remembers her child’s firsts:
teeth, words, steps that grew into strides.
and her only regret: only the man
with his godawful pride.

She climbs on the bus
gently grasping the hand
of her bright eyed
and well-loved child.
And this child,
this child,
who is wealthier than most
for the child knows only of
love.

It’s hardly your fault:
the disappointment i have felt,
at your expense,
in relation to my self.

I fear i have made it too easy,
to delight or dissatisfy,
based on the potential,
in all human beings.

Pure possibility,
and in a realm,
where anything is,
and can be.

Like three steps down,
our relationship
has been one down,
after another,

and to think,
with all the love we had,
above all else,
i looked down.

As simple as:
breaking the threshold,
crown upon my head,
you scramble off his ****,

and why oh why,
cannot you be the one,
i never even cared for,
as i walk away.

How easy it would’ve been,
to ruin it from the beginning,
grant her the delight,
and give you up then,

and so i travel,
along the border waters,
the bears are coming in,
quickly they are coming in.

My gaze guides pink and blue of quiet calculator
Searching for the LCD
Hidden behind a pointless screen
As the outside pours itself upon me

It really tickles the soul,
The unbounding energy
I twist and shout as my skin furls
Curls with the waves of R.L-itty biting Goosebumps

Yet I can see between the trees of an old office park
The burned remains of waxy candle-like light
scattered across the rainy windowpanes
that fell around me in an amniotic metal box
I filled with an unopened lung

And behind the neon light she danced pretty as a queen
A silhouette, a silent dream
And I saw her in the drops of heaven,
In the rains of light,
And in the fuzzy deep inside
that echoed the hearty rumble of an engine
And carried me through wet asphalt
Of an unending night

Until I found a bridle

To bewitch she would let me ride

Yet in knowing ways she would dissatisfy,
Show the glaring between her eyes,
Tell me all the things between the sky
The she felt kept us from touching

No amount of metal screen
Or electronic ideation
Will fix the willful sublimation
of our shackled spirits
To realms out of reach

With human aye I fill my gaseous pouch
with the leathery sickly burning draught
of aromatic spinning gin and tonic
The threw my head over the bar
And out the door, into oiled alley,
Where She and I met lips there
Where we both smelled of reek
And Where weak minds tortured like glass
stained with the memories of fine wine

And a sense of overpowering divine

When we paired and parted,
Left for spheres
And both sought some different way out of..
here.