#contain
The box of pain, always ignored
Hurt goes in, never once explored.
Once learned from the best; deny, deny, deny.
Same principle applied, name it, let it die.
It’s cabined: hey, thanks Gavin.
Uninspired to write about pain, disappointment or loss,
Or betrayal or grief or loneliness or cost.
Feel it, learn, move on, let it go.
Put it in a box, seal it shut, double down,
Chuck it overboard, cheerio, let it drown.
And turn the page.
Apr 9
Apr 9, 2026 at 4:16 AM UTC
talk to the rivers about you
the trees listen to my worries
i feel most at peace with birds chirping
i mention you to the snowflakes
which lace my jacket
i feel so ashamed and distracted
come here and listen in
my heart beats increasing
come there and finish it
slash my body down again
i cannot keep clinging
suspended, wavering
i cannot contain it
expression, savouring
Jan 1
Jan 1, 2026 at 12:15 PM UTC
Once, you leave again
Are my wounds bigger than me
An outline contains
Dec 25, 2024
Dec 25, 2024 at 4:21 PM UTC
My sweet Seraphine,
What have you done
They labeled you a monster
So is that what you’ve become?
I knew your heart was fragile
But it wasn’t made of glass
The icy chill that froze your soul
Surely cannot last
They dimmed the light inside you
When they ****** you to this place
But the flame that burns inside you
Could never be contained
My sweet Seraphine,
In the darkness of the night
The stars will guide you home
For they will be your light
Oct 6, 2024
Oct 6, 2024 at 3:38 PM UTC
How many poems does one individual contain?
Ahh you say!
Why unlimited are our of-coursing emotional exhalations,
our sighted and insighted sparks
like forest fires they come ad infinitum!
THEN the mind’s eye blinks, then word blindness follows
in phased arrays of
gaps that cannot always be easy pencil filled, permanent inked,
as locked and closeted,
and put away in a glass jar of formaldehyde.
I see, I feel, I hear, I read and react;
a notion,
a title born,
perhaps even a line or two follow-on scratched and etched,
even refetched
but followed then
by the deafening quietude of a stillbirth breeched
fetus,
the emptiness of a blanketing blank,
a glance too short,
a foam extrusion whitening the spark into nothingness,
the death of a poem in a forest…
and you can’t care!
more such wordless poems have I buried than the
talkative children I’ve birthed,
old age delimits me now, my eyes failing, my hearing lessening,
the senses eroding, and worse, the frustration morphs
NOT INTO caring,
for the days of wine and roses, the mid-of-night urgency of
try, try poetic ****** is now a sinful spilled residue
on the wooden floor,
crumpled sheets of spermatozoa failure to perform…
the wastebasket
is a into a silo of mockery, a self-administered glass shot
of saltwater, bitter herbs, lamentations, an impassable gateway nominally know as 502, a wide, emptied moat of “haha on you!”
thus an answer forms,
there is no endless, growing,
inhumanly impossible trumpeting crescendo voice that doesn’t falter, eventually!
a petering out, a tangled, gordon knot of a shoe-laced Nat voice that cannot be untied by creaking fingers that scream ¡no más!
Even though
you believe, you yet possess the tools, though well worn smooth,
the belt lies heavy on the hips and its removal a welcoming
enlightening!
let me abide in peace, trigger me not, and the
answer is and always had been, this one, or the next one,
or the one prior is perhaps the finale, you will never know,
and if you do,
you will never permit yourself to utter aloud,
terminé et terminé!
in sæcula sæculorum imperf!
forever and forever unfinished finish!
!last one out, turn off the light!
Nov 4, 2022
Nov 4, 2022 at 7:48 PM UTC
Today I was accused to being a bad influence yet again,
Simply because I facilitate the forbidden wants/needs of the people I love,
Simply because I give them a place to get high and vent without being judged,
Simply because I create an aura where they feel free to express themselves in whatever ways they like- modest, humble even ******
And simply because the ones they love refuse to facilitate their haram (forbidden).
Haram is bad – we all know this
But being human is about passing through all things good and all things bad.
Being a Muslim, most of my choices are haram;
Not properly attired to the laws of my religion,
My speech is not of a young lady with modesty- rather it is defined with sheer profanity,
I rather laugh from my heart even though it’s supposedly a ****** act,
I refuse to lower my gaze around men; the same men that stole from me
The same men that refused to lower their gaze from me.
I deny myself the potential for love because of the expectation of great dismay
And I drown myself with the 34000 thoughts of what if??!
This poem is becoming a disaster; my thoughts aren’t flowing straight,
I went from bad influence to haram to rebellious to depressing;
What the **** is this **** going on inside my head- it aches with great displeasure.
How do I contain my contradicting self?
Someone help me please, my soul is crying and sobbing for something to fill this void-
The void that is desperately trying to full itself with the acceptance of the people who are hell bent on not accepting me.
Why am I like this? A contradicting ******* disaster
-fir.m
Sep 22, 2020
Sep 22, 2020 at 3:12 PM UTC
A container with infinite capabilities
Holding
Memories
Holds
Possibilities
Contains concern, doubt, mistrust
Isolation
The emptiness is full
Filled with shapes
Things indescribable
Trapped within
No escape
No
Escape
Contain, hold, isolate
Same meaning, different capabilities
Choose the container’s purpose
Close it with a thought
Open it
To unveil your next path
Jul 12, 2020
Jul 12, 2020 at 4:49 PM UTC
_He looked better in a mask than I did without._
Apr 18, 2020
Apr 18, 2020 at 9:45 PM UTC
i am
words
dripped in honey,
a golden sheen
across
my body,
coursing through
my veins
in luxury.
i am
an interlude;
the space
between your fingers
were not made
to contain me.
Mar 18, 2020
Mar 18, 2020 at 1:09 PM UTC
You better practice.
The alacrity with which we crawl is grievous
We aren't laughing.
We're the ******** and you can not deceive us
We remember
We envelope the view of stolen streets
and only speak
to show the fury stoked beneath the yoke
and only speak until we don't
We know that it's enough.
We know that's all it takes.
To only speak.
For us to say that you are weak
and you rely on our feet
for what's involved in your deceit
That's all it takes for you to falter.
We chew the noose and loosen halter
But once the halter loosens your abuses,
still within the 'blood and soil',
boil over our brims and filter fire out
from within.
We're coming.
Contain us or try.
It won't matter.
We know the saints and the lies,
and you'll get fatter.
And you'll be food for the flies
and we won't choose to abide;
to let the bruises subside.
We're unhinged in every way we know can chew you inside.
It won't be talking.
We know that it's enough to scare you
But your fear won't be enough to spare you.
Aug 1, 2019
Aug 1, 2019 at 1:38 PM UTC
love wash them as waves,
neither he or she grabs it;
where would it contain?
Mar 30, 2019
Mar 30, 2019 at 1:13 PM UTC
Sometimes I toss and turn at night
I can feel a thousand others do the same
We all lie awake with these thoughts dripping from the faucet of our brain
We always try
To turn the handle
Make them stop
Yet every attempt is in vain
There is nothing we could do to keep these thoughts contained
There is no drain for them to slip away
Instead they cause a flood in our minds
They make you realize there is no way to rewind
Trapped once again by the bars hidden behind our eyes
We continue to toss and turn
Attempting to shake away the truth of our mortality and find a way to dream of a place where happiness is not bought
These thoughts at night are louder than in the day
They scream like sirens
And you can't turn them off
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 1:46 AM UTC
Why are you trying to be his world?
He can't contain every star in your body.
Every galaxy in your eyes
Whenever the whole solar system would spin on your smile.
He can't
Contain
The
Universe
You are
Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 5:33 AM UTC
jasmine jostles
leaves fold
I watch
steel and glass contain
assuaged by structure
the wind blows
but not here
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 4:23 AM UTC
I stand here
beneath the secrets piling over me
at the edge, looking at how I spill out of my own body.
Not able to contain myself.
Not able to restain myself
from looking into the darkness,
from looking into the depth of me
where lies the skeletons of many friendships
and one rare love.
Many managed to stay afloat
not wanting to be a part of me,
knowing what I was.
While I just wanted them to stay
for a moment
to tell me what they knew
tell me what I was.
So that I may not feel
like an impostor in my own life.
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 4:45 AM UTC
I saw you
soft as the clouds of heaven.
I felt you
covered in the condensed drops
of love that the whole world breathes out.
And I hated you for it.
I saw your skin marked with me.
I saw the cracks in your smile
covered in my kisses.
I saw my reflection in your heart
that was made for my thirst.
I saw my heart.
I saw what hid there.
I saw the storm that never calms.
I saw the poison that has no color.
I saw your eyes become the clouds,
I saw it rain.
I saw you tremble as earthquake
that tries to contain itself.
I saw you make your home
in my storm.
And I hated you for that.
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 1:03 AM UTC
This
is
me
Hiding from the truth
Destroying my youth
Trying to ignore
Hoping it would be no more
Pushing it aside
Crushing my pride
Covering those scars
Locked behind bars
Denying the pain
Attempting to contain
Now filled with shame
Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 11:33 PM UTC
Skin is far too tight and thin.
It can not possibly contain the soul of me.
I hope I don't make a mess when it all gives way.
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 6:38 AM UTC
There's words I don't say
I hold deep inside of me
But when I'm tired
They come out, unexpected
Clumsily, I turn bright red.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC
It occurred too
As most things don't to me
That these lapses
Lapses?
What were we on
Obelisk over 40
Or is it over and then under.
¿Cuál es tu animal favorito
I've left the list behind on the plane and not
I'm not sure I can collect my thoughts that way anymore
At least not for today
Why? I left those thoughts on a plane and it has already set its tail aloft for soft breezes
The air the air, soft as Fred Astaire
And Ginger Rogers, is the night
She wraps her hand into his
8 steps forward and a shuffle ball-change right.
But it is something else isn't it
Her bird like hips in a double tiered dress dripping with Swarovski and trimmed with ostrich as she descends the glass stairs from heaven onto a dimly lit ballroom
A slight curl of the hair and the sharpness of her nose the counterbalance to the wave of her *** in that beautiful ******* dress
Oh and Fred? You keep up. You do.
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 6:50 PM UTC