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KT  Sep 2015
Dry Suckerpunch
KT Sep 2015
Nevermind,
well, I know you... don't.
You were always like that,
but I ignored that fact.
It's not your fault,
that now you are a cold-hearted *****.
... I thought you were to change.
Wait... It is your fault.
It's completely your ******* fault.
I gave you all you ever wanted
and you couldn't even remember
that I have a, now dead,  dog.
Yes.. You didn't like dogs.
You didn't like lots of things.
.. You liked lots of things.
But never, even once, have I seen through your eyes.
You never brought me inside.
You kept me shut, while
you could even see
inbetween my spine.
Maybe, that was your problem,
not knowing how to deal with.. problems.
You get scared, you run away,
you turn the other cheek,
and you, actually, believe that is how
you wipe a stain away.
But no, that way, you'll always have
a pile of **** behind your back.
When I met you...
You said you were changed
.. from some previous version of you.
A new you now, a new life,
asking me for a way out,
from the **** that you then left behind.
I helped you, I taught you, I formed you.
I gave you my sincerest hug.
I was proud, happy, strong for what I did...
And, somehow..
You ******* grew on me.
I fell for you.
I fell for the person I made inside you.
I know that at a time,
she really existed in you,
there, by my side.
Alone, away...
We had the world for ourselves.
I really thought, I found
my shiny bright companion star.
Time passed away fast,
and the dream reached dawn.
I knew it wouldn't always last,
but I never thought much of that.
I just enjoyed every second you ever gave me,
until you broke the clock and left me to rot.
Remember?
We swam in springs,
with stars we played,
but when I looked around, to catch to a breath..
All I saw was desert.
My face dried out,
then I just wanted
another gulp of our spring,
while you were punching my teeth out.
Maybe, that is what you can't get and long for..
.. Always, another, one more pleasurable breath.
You really ******* woke me up.
I realised that a person can't be shaped or.. remade.
You know.. I just hoped..
That there can be change...
Another chunk of crap, behind your back... I think I now am.
Really? Why? Why ******* why?
At least, you could've said.. Goodbye!
You cut all strings, hoping you'll fly,
and that I'll just drop down and die!
But that is not how it works..
One day you won't be able to walk
from the weight of all your cut-out
left-over threads of strings.
You'll entangle and wrangle
and knot yourself up,
until you can no longer move.
I hope that then,
you'll remember
the summer girl you once were.
She, who's hidden inside you.
She, who's been my habit.
She, who a part of me will always love.
She, who is a piece of me.
She, engraved in my memory.

Never again... but I wouldn't know.
Cecil Miller Apr 2016
It took one who was blind
To teach me how to see.
Someone who was cold
Thawed this heart in me.
I learned from the cruel
How to truly understand.
And when you walked away,
I learned to be my own man.

I learned from the lies
To recognize what is real.
From a stony hand,
I learn how to feel.
I have a new love
That reaches parts of me.
You never could touch.
You showed me who not to be.

You rode off into a bright and blue day.
I went into the dark to be saved,
You came back to lie to my face,
But I...
I Could not see past those trails that you blazed
And I'd...
I'd already found the love that I crave
You loose...
Now your head's in a haze.

Thing about it is -
The heart that you break is yours,
And the love that you take is from you.
The lies you believe are your own.
The suckerpunch you don't see coming
Is the very one you've thrown.

You know you were *****.
You know you were wrong.
I am not judging.
But I wouldn't be in your shoes for long.

Why don't you go and blaze another trail.

You say it's different this time.
But just like all the other times,
What's not different is everything is different.
I am different.
The only thing that is the same is you.
I have been working this one up for a while. It was written with kind of a proggy-rock sound in my head. I retain all rights.
Jon Tobias Mar 2013
Cigarette smoke and **** colored beer
Family is a suckerpunch epiphany
For people who’ve spent so much time
Saying they no longer had one

I swore forever
Mine was missing parts
This heart carved shells
Let’s swap odd shapes
Re-sew them and **** up our beats forever
Together

If the world is ending and you find me here
Kicking up the earth
Dirt scatter to the wind
Brown blood spatter
That’s just me trying to escape faster

Join me or leave me
But I got this beef with gravity
Like a severed head tetherball
This face senseless

You make me senseless

Numb to all the bad parts
In the same way salt makes everything sweeter
You make everything sweeter
Your salty skin
Sweet mouth
Sweet speak
Sweet laughter

Make me feel a little less stupid
About giving in to the movement
This mouth
This body
Like a knee-buckle kick to the gas pedal
And I peel out by accident

And you can still love me
Like family
I’ve slept in so many beds
And on so many floors
All so much more comfortable than my own

I swear I have bed bugs
Drinking my blood as I sleep
Getting drunk most nights
Them and me
Wake up itchy and fatigued
Like an allergy

But you
You smile like a hammock
Held up by strings hanging from your eye squint
To your dimples

Without speaking
“you can rest here tonight”

This is for the beds
For the people who say ouch when I hug them
For the family I thought I never had

For the appreciation that
Every moment of sadness
Means I’ve known so much joy
To feel that way

I’ve known so much joy
Thank you
Another drunkish poem....
Jon Tobias Apr 2012
Your voice is like a silent whisper that I no longer wish to hear

On any given day it breaks me down
like the soft hiss and hush of waves
working to break the levee

I feel your voice speaking from inside my cheeks

It feels like forever
and I still can't seem to shake you from my skin
how I say things the way you used to say them

how I sometimes think about things that make me uncomfortable
and say your name out loud to halt my thought's direction

I ******* miss you
but I don't want to miss you anymore

Moving on is the dilemma for ghosts
Who have nothing left to hold on to

I can't hold your ghost
There are people here who
are still perfectly capable of holding me

And when I see you again
Maybe you won't be able to hold me

Because I imagine
heaven
is energy

I know this in the way my skin still heats up
at the thought of your touch
you move my molecules a fire-friction-engine-rumble

You are energy
and this is how I know you are happy
because there isn't anything else you can be

This is how I know heaven is real
God is a ball of light that feels like a fiery smile when you touch it

But I still hear your voice at night
and maybe your memories creep up
like epiphany shivers
like

   oh
This is just me missing you
I am still human
and I am allowed to do silly human  things

Because I am alive
and so much self preservation
I haven't let you go yet

Which is why I still hear you
reminding me to do stupid things like take care of myself
and to not hang my head so wrecking-ball heavy
unless I am finally breaking down my own walls
to sucker punch my gut
in order to remind my lungs
that even without you here
the air still tastes so sweet

Reset my suckerpunch
to gasp
to fight for inhale
to understand
that my own breath
still tastes so sweet

I hear you
you silent whisperer
I hear you
Fist line donated by Nicole (Lady) Adams
n stiles carmona Jan 2021
Hindsight, hallowed be thy name.

All I've got is luggage... luggage!
My God! Turn around; find my comrades slumped under the weights strapped to their spine!
Limping, bearing, burdened by non-negotiables while the High Court of Good Karma takes collective sabbatical —
and this knapsack of shame, I've partial credit in filling.

Grey handkerchief, original sin:
one. single. suckerpunch. and my fists are raised forever,
begging for the chance to swing and prove my own strength
— supposing the opportunity never fell into my lap — I'd said "**** it," packed a

hundred grams of bushy brushed-out curls, stop-sign red
fifty grams of lips to match (uniform too, now I think about it)
fifty grams of raccoon eyelids and coloured-in brows
hundred grams of halls of mirrors, circus-attraction Alice
lose a hundred/gain a hundred/repeat til dizzy
hundred grams of ******-in stomach, eyes averted in changing rooms
wigs by the armful — that's three — nom-de-plumes thrown in gratis
(it's only a journey to the rest of my life anyway, I'll need them,
alternative being cinematic debut as Myself)
hundred performances to imaginary audiences, less-than-stellar reviews
hundred grams of overwhelming then underwhelming "on purpose"
hundred grams of laughing off any belief in potential
hundred grams of scratch-marks and verbal fountains of venom
hundred grams of giving almostneverquite as good as I got
hundred grams of group-work alone thank ****(?)
hundred biro-holes stabbed in martyred pencil cases
feral in broad daylight spoiling for a fight
kilo of aiming for 'scary' and landing on 'strange'
kilo of being third to make good company a crowd
kilo of taking sixteen years to find Her
— Shadowboxer Fiona, rhythms invisible, catharsis in art —
hundred doodled superstitious evil-eyes in the ruled margins
hundred laments over the inability to provide a better future

(removed one by one whenever I think the future's mutable)

that one glimpse of white lightning in a violet storm
one single minute's pause to look over my shoulder
scarce-to-zero progress made
endless miles to go
breathless body soaked to the bone
and this useless! *******! bag! of Everything and nothing of value!!
mansions worth of loathing yet there's nothing to lose
did I decide that because I can't change the world, I can change nothing at all
(instead throwing darts at reflections/emotional *****/kicking stray dogs as a full-time hobby)?

O clarity so saccharine that I cannot be angered by the wasted years
only because THERE ARE MORE TO COME
I take it
   off my shoulder,
the first kind action I have spared myself in time unguessable
empty
     the
        contents...
   really
    air it out...
and trudge on
    unaccompanied.
The world's enough of an uphill climb.
written after too much time poring over allen ginsberg. ambivalent about this but the alternative is endless writers' block so this way i've at least got something to show for myself
Jon Tobias Apr 2011
After a day of unfamiliar faces

His eyes are glad to finally settle on mine

As we walk though the mall

He keeps his head down

   Tells me he is afraid to look at people

How they might see what he is thinking

   Spelled out on his face

He always looks cold

     always looks tired

    walks like he is trying to remember that life is as simple as

Placing one foot in front of the other

With his head down

I know he counts his steps

He can only count to 100

Between this morning and now

I don’t know how many times he has counted to that

When I ask him why he doesn’t count higher

     He tells me

I’ll just lose track

And I just wanna tell him

You got a heart bigger than the best of us

So pure you got water coursin’ through your veins

So golden you shine like the sun

And it’s a suckerpunch to my gut

  To see you bow down to gravity

‘Cause if there was anyone

   And I mean anyone

Who could stare you in the face

And not see the light

  Then ****’em kid

There are days where I pray

The world could be as simple as you

Days where I pray that you might fight gravity

  As simply as

Placing one foot in front of the other

To slowly rise on steps of air

  Counting them as you do

And know it’s okay if you don’t come back

   ‘cause

There’s nothing wrong with going home
rook  Jan 2015
Suckerpunch
rook Jan 2015
If you took an x-ray & looked at my insides, they'd be a Picasso.
All tangled shapes, color spills, and meaning hidden
Or maybe a ******* --
endless splatters of endless paint that are all the same, except portrayed           differently.
An entire infinity in those dots, a life of
wishing for someone you could never be
or remember,
And remember, lost in place.
Kimberly L Piper  Sep 2012
Faded
Kimberly L Piper Sep 2012
Do it for me. Don't make me jealous. Only because you're beautiful. Cover your arms. Cover your legs. Don't talk back!

That wasn't love, but, I thought it was.

You made me do it.........If you didn't make me so mad.......Push. Push..........SHOVE.

That wasn't love, but, I thought it was.

Smack.......Slap........PUNCH. Cry. Tears..........Hugs.

That wasn't love, but, I thought it was.

Slap.......SMASH........Kick.......JAB......SUCKERPUNCH. Choke. Scream.........Holler. Kick.

That wasn't love, but, I thought it was.

SLAP. I won't do it again. SLAP. I won't do it again. SLAP. I won't do it again................

That wasn't love, but, I thought it was.

Locked in a room for 2 hours........no food..........no water. Learn your lesson so I can stop being this way. It's your fault I have to do this.

That wasn't love, but, I thought it was.

Call, leave a message at the beep. I'm sorry. Call, hang up. Call, hang up. Call, leave a message at the beep. You better not leave me.

That wasn't love, but, I thought it was.

SLAP. I won't do it again. SLAP. I won't do it again.  STOMP........KICK........PUNCH. That's what you deserve.

That wasn't love, but, I thought it was.

Call, leave a message at the beep. I'm sorry. Call, hang up. Call, hang up. Call, leave a message at the beep. Please don't leave me.

That wasn't love, but, I thought it was.

SLAP. I won't do it again. PUNCH. KICK. CHOKE. STRANGLE.........It's your fault I have to do this.

That wasn't love, but, I thought it was.

Call, leave a message at the beep. I'm sorry. Call, hang up. Call, pick up. You can't leave me. Reply, WATCH ME. Plead, its because I love you so much. Reply, GO TO HELL!

This isn't love. It never will be. It never was.
My first relationship was abusive. It started with words and it took awhile before it evolved to physical abuse. I was a teenager. 4 years of being someone's punching bag. I got out. This is for all the adolescents, teens, adults, male or female who are in a relationship and they are convinced it is love. The only way out unless you leave and get help is death. Get help......PLEASE.
Jon Tobias Feb 2012
I had never seen the truth turning into a graveyard
until it passed through my tombstone teeth to
sit in your ear like a ghost

These aren't sweet nothings
my sweet nothing

And you deserve much more than  the devil
living inside of my cheeks

This is the way truth sets us free

The same way a suckerpunch leaves us winded

I imagine that is how our souls leave us

But you try and explain that to a nurse
who is busy checking your mouth to be sure
you've taken all your medication

You know how you're supposed to live like you are going to die tomorrow
I say
How 'bout six months from tomorrow?

I really have tried everythin
including ******* down the backwash of a sunday baptism

It only tasted like fear

The kind of fear I don't need right now

We bought a casket

Plotted a plot

I got a tattoo of an expiration date on the bottom of my foot

No day or month
just this year

And you've been brave
saying
You are saving your tears for when I am not here anymore

And I honestly never saw how the truth could turn into a graveyard

Til we both started talking to each other

Like ghosts whispering all the things we never got to say in life

No matter how you look at it
I tell her
*The truth always feels like it's arrived too late
Thank you so much g for that amazing first line. I hope you approve of what I turned it into.
Jon Tobias Nov 2011
The best part about waking up with a hangover

Is that I feel like so much ****

That six hours later

After the headache has passed

And solids stay where I want them to

And you suckerpunch me in the throat again

I find comfort knowing

At least

six hours earlier

I felt worse
No more drunk poetry. Ie my last poem. I'll be back when I sober up.
Logan  Apr 2018
Control
Logan Apr 2018
Tonight I will weep
For before i fall asleep
Thoughts of you endure

My mind was tampered
with, on a false promise of
a love that was sure

Your abrasive words
were a suckerpunch beneath
your veil of allure

You leave us a coarse
effigy of men, who shall
dismantle the pure.
My try at a haiku while keeping to the theme of mistreated women. Every word and action weighs on other people. The heavier they are the more damage is done mentally and physically.
jimmy tee Mar 2014
practice the utmost care
form a vigilant style
peep around corners
be alert to possibilities

develop awareness
study what lurks in shadow
prepare for surprises
hone your senses

visualize potential scenarios
pay attention to the probable
spy through keyholes
listen through thin walls

dis-believe dormancy
list your suspicions
weigh all prospects
refine distrust

cross examine sincerity
swim in the sea of mistrust
suspend all gut feeling
deny altruism

question fact
support skepticism
increase misgivings
keep eyes wide open

bet on failure
indulge at peril
compile odds
rely on doubt

push a fuzzy brand of cynicism
label everything
marginalize what you don’t understand
be conscience of fraud

perceive through narrowness
downplay experience
recycle ancient lies
apply rhetorical loops

reduce all to the absurd
promote jealousy
revel at weak spots
blame impossibilities


design decision trees
ferment rebellion
create false alliances
initiate rumor

draft complex plans
generate half truths
produce unreachable ideals
fashion anger

establish favorable ground rules
start a corporation
coin a catch phrase
invent an argument

launch a promotional campaign
confirm nothing
invert the discussion
determine outcomes

verify the enormous
market greed
prove conflicting arguments
ascertain needless worth

uncover falsehoods
locate the correct word
detect limitations
counterattack always

deliver disadvantage
attack any and all flaws
educate with nonsense
promote vulnerability

assign bogus titles
fabricate counterfeits
rely on fictions
deceive the masses

compose a reason
construct pain
assemble wild games
dismantle the individual

move mountains
consume independent thought
cause penance
gestate chaos


nurse turmoil
outflank righteousness
muddle the message
confide in darkness

plant upheaval
nurture vanity
ignore any mayhem
misname disorder

cultivate hesitation
praise ambiguity
rejoice for indecision
celebrate vagueness

dance as a marionette
venerate a suckerpunch
insult pride
pay tribute to silence

bend any principle
admire baseness
respect behind closed doors
award deceit

erase distinction
cook up conspiracies
diagram secrets
format the unbelievable

lust over possession
outline an escape
draw excuses
strategize sin

parcel desires
aim toward the crass
object to feelings
target the sordid

commit to the improper
corrupt all souls
mock religion
root out the wise

increase loneliness
pigeonhole solidarity
rupture the will
insert schisms

shout down dissent
pound out inferiority
supply sadness
stand toward folly

seek out dependency
crush mild opposition
carve a new standard
delay action

— The End —