"abstinent" poems
neither very social
nor I'm vocal
silent screamer
a lonely dreamer
neither a mood swing
nor in a bing
don't mind
if you don't find
as I'm in my cocoon
may be back soon
but for a while
let me hibernate in my style
not a saint
just complacent
ridicule not, I'm not a clown
on a journey unknown.... my own
deep ponderer
solo wanderer
not a wayward
just traveling inward
judge me not O dear!
for you I'm there
but let me be insignificant
an abstinent.....
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 2:35 PM UTC
Passing around a fatal flaw like a joint in a hot box,
Refreshing baths of Coca~Cola and regretful indulgence
We are wasting away in a paradise of my creation
Poems tinted grey through abstinent romanticism,
and an inexplicable undertone inherent to my prose.
As everything starts to return to a drumming constant.
It all sounds the same.
We've been sunbathing in porcelain skies and empty daydreams.
Drab and dreary and acid washed.
Interrupted like a beach by the sea,
By the little pieces of drug soaked warmth that act as comforting distractions.
A smile or a shoulder or a sunny day to drink from.
Summer and solitude, the likeness of warm bodies in a cold pool.
So.
Compose me an opera of Soda Cans and of choral song. Synthesise two bass lines and slow drip coffee and pollen and folk.
Make it for me so I can watch you as you work.
Let me listen and bask in its ludacris vanity, and clean shallow waters.
How I would relish the time spent muddying the current. Destroying the tide I desired out of boredom.
And black hot frustration.
Flowers painted in acid and acrid accounts of repetative revalations in the context of rude rosy cheeked romance.
Blonde haired ignorance and one dimensional delusions.
Blue eyed terrorists armed with air and arrogance.
Give me seatwarmers and handholding
Or corvettes and convertables.
Give me arrowheads and heart attacks
Humble my bones with a cardiac
!F.R.I.E.N.D.S.!
SITCOMS
ADJASENT PLOTLINES
mumble rap
AND ***** TALK HOTLINES
four letter words with little context or meaning and selfless expression that's often demeaning
Its September in January and it rains for a day
And despite all our efforts
The days waste away
Jan 24, 2020
Jan 24, 2020 at 12:26 PM UTC
Painted practice forgives the forward hand
Another man stands between the broken battalions
Caution slips underneath the tattered worn rug
And the apples and oranges rest naked and smug
The horizon stands poised neath a towering shrine
Wishing for salvation in an appetite of rhyme
And because there's no forgiveness for the weak or the rubbed
The one's left over have no need for the above
A cradle crosses the abstinent dream
Forgetting the difference between falseness and what's real
Pull apart your own fears, erupt sacred insecurities
Attack the dark with lighted candle and a roaring spark
Light across the window, cloud covers the moon
Reappeared faces make me strike another tune
Between the tide and the wave, sits a cap sized ship to heavy to move
The streets today are empty and how about you?
She moved like a serpent and spoke like a child
When the store owner's saw her, they all went wild
Two pair down wide and I've driven too many miles to cry
Why on this Earth is there rule you gotta' die -
Mountains peter past the fortunate blue
Of oceans to cross to peddle or bloom
Dead flowers rest on the graves of the dead
Birds lift their wings as they search for a bed
In a home where the mother grips every mention of moan
Parries a father to weak to address his crumbling tomb
See the spiraling trapeze spin and clap in tights
Even in dreams are we as forgetful as the vanishing night
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
you’ve told me before,
self-loathing is just
a common cliché,
now everybody’s doing it.
that’s not to say
i haven’t seen how
your eyes roam over
your body like you’d been
stitched together with all
the wrong fabrics
i don’t think
i’ve ever seen you
look as dissatisfied as
when you look
at yourself.
you’ve told me before,
self-loathing is just like
an std, everybody’s had it
at some point.
it’s just that some people
were smart enough to
use protection or are abstinent
and they’re the ones
who sleep easy at night
while you’ve always got an itch
to scratch it was never clear
how they toed the line
between their self love
and hate better
than others and you
were their other,
caught them staring
and couldn’t tell the line
between love and hate
(thought you saw it
split the ground open
wanted to dip your toes
into the nothing between
you were scared
you’d fall in).
but you won’t tell
me what it’s like
when you look at yourself,
and your reflection
is rag-doll ragged
the perfect pincushion
and you pinpoint
all the split seams
moth holes your
smile is just a
loose thread you stop
to unravel
and you won’t say
what it’s like
when your reflection is
all pins and points
and you’re not sure
if the rag-doll face
underneath is still
there, at one point
she smiles
like only girls with pins
in their lips can,
her lips unravel
(you don’t smile).
you’ve told me before,
self-loathing is just
a common cliché,
there’s no way you’d
be caught dead
doing it.
i’ve seen the red-capped pins
you keep with your make-up.
they look so much
like my own.
hey.
are you still there?
i can't see you beneath
all those pins.
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 6:26 PM UTC
You said the drugs showed you ****
**** you didn't want to see
My phone is apparently abstinent
One of those nights
Where I played with the idea of
Slumber
I saw the jagged edges
Of your silver lining
Painted you black
Every ******* color
Mingling and singing
And *******
You were *******
I was ******* tired
What ironic timing
For you to have
Your wisdom teeth removed
Jun 4, 2010
Jun 4, 2010 at 8:08 AM UTC
I found the rat-fink bound at the whipping post
I found the ****** at the hitching post
I'm the one itching to go
Find me at the scratching post
Chomping at the bit
Chipping off the splintered wood on a telephone post
Get me out of this stockade
Put me in the guillotine
Because I'm out of my head
And I'm going off
Bombard you with simple truths
You know it isn't all it's cracked up to be
If it's too good to be true
You've forced my hand
Now I gotta be uncouth
Something I gotta come to terms with
Something I gotta come to grips with
Looking back at my formative years
With the world I lived in hot on my heels
The celibate dust collectors
The abstinent hypoglycemic meat puppets
I was on cue
My cue to calibrate my own gumption
Bounced off the wall
Put on parole
Used my reserved rights to exercise my rights
To put my foot in the door and leave it a jar
While I stuck my hands in the cookie jar
But I guess there is such a thing as too much of a good thing
Become an over night success
Being famous for being famous
That whole scenario's played out
So mind your P's and Q's
I'll ask you point blank
Do you think you're ingenious?
Prodigious?
Are you in that proverbial extravaganza?
Collecting blood diamonds
Enunciation silent letters
That say all that need be said
Sent through the Pony Express
Written in an acrostic anagram
She'll answer with palindrome acronym in a Pig Latin
And she's right
In some aspect
To a certain point
To some degree
She sheds light
In some right
Forever in debt to the price to survive
Forever seems like such a long time
Forever damaging stubborn pride
Forever giving out bad advice
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
Thoughts from my least used paint brush:
I sometimes wonder what red taste like
I have seen my keeper bleed
****** knuckles, wrists, and knees
I often wonder if different shades of the same color hold the same feeling
I have never felt orange
Have never knit together sunsets or flowers
I am abstinent from such beauty
I have known blue
Paint bucket skies, blended grace to look upon
I do not want to take credit for what I have done
But I still want to be a part
I want to explore the color green
Plant gardens on woven white paper
Grow tall, thin, wide, strong
Walk in this ecstasy as a gardener
I want to build sky scrapers reaching into the lust of clouds
White, black, grey
I am okay with being neutral if it only means I will sip the savoring make up of this masterpiece
A possibility always seems to be floating next to me
I am only waiting to lifted into nirvana
I will wait forever for just one monument with my name carved into it
And I will not falter, I will not give up
My mouth has gone dry but I am hopeful to once again meet with my love of creativity
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 12:59 AM UTC
If love be a drug then I have been abstinent; Refrained.
I've been nervous, timid, uneasy, and afraid
To feel Cupid's euphoria ecstasy coursing through my veins.
If love be a drug, I must've not found the right dealer.
One that will point me to my Aphrodite and teach me how to keep her.
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC
I had someone
who should have been a friend
ask me today
"Can't you just have a normal relationship
for once?"
My response
though choppy and unrehearsed
was
"I mess around with who I want to.
That is 'normal'
for me."
If I do not judge you for being abstinent
why do you insist on criticizing
my choices?
Plus, I do not know
when you got to decide what is 'typical'.
***
Yes, I lost my virginity at fourteen
and shockingly,
I am regret-free.
However,
sometimes I do wish
that some sense of normalcy
would return to other areas of my life.
I wish I could remember what it looks like again.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
is everything free ? are you not what you thought cost so much
are you the bard's trumpet ? if nothing is a slave, you are the next plum
hard knocked rival in the brand new menthol hydra, to perplex some
as everything freely unbecomes.
you are everything
but not none.
we have one tongue and no people. we are bling funk and no aspirin
the UN-rational Catherine of your Russian Demi-Glace !
is everything free ? are you not most lost in the odd knot ?
are you not like most people ?
are you not strung out and about, but not south of north people ?
do you love not ?
do ?
do you true passion your abstinent cabinets of elaborate dreams ?
is everything free ?
and what's
the
cost
?
Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 7:48 PM UTC
Abater, wherein art thou?
Hung in hopeless romantic gallow's?
Stuck in a cloud?
Abdicate this volition repudiate
The time is now;
For the pearlied gate's.
Proliferation's hit mine glut
None staying behind;
No if's, and's, or what's.
Grandiose word's from other's, to much saidst
Guile liar's;
Of unholiness.
Fidelity gone unseen
Lost in the finesse of foment dream's;
Daunting foresight, dearth belief
Snakes with teeth, to slither thine audacity!!!
Abstinent, they locketh their beak's
Their two people by nature, masked freaks;
Giveth thee evidence, of non-concrete
They shuffleth their feet, for defaming fun.
Biographer's, of their own self
Don't careth, for noone else;
Trap us in a wanting hell, wherein croon's art pain, pain is swell..
We fall
We fell
In their devour....... .
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
rubicon hangover
sherbert lemon sunrise
butterscotch *******
with an afterbirth smile
pastiche or phantom
beautiful proportion
cutting mothers apron
the circle of time
location location
circumnavigation
stylised continuum
great britain is a lie
mass for the masses
blood on the carpet
thank you for not smoking
its a marvel we're alive
thirty thousand drowning
thirty fathoms counting
suffer little children
not in my back garden
slumber in a haven
sleeping with forbidden
waterfalls and gravestones
selfish over soil
war americana
revolutionara
helicopter complex
compliment our ego
nuclear disaster
what use is a master
fall out over fallout
tinnitus and drones
avalanche of feedback
pentatonic ***** slap
abstinent castrati
carry me away
shiver orchestration
gentle fornication
sexually vacant
naturally vague
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
Abater where art thou?
Hung in gallows?
Stuck on cloud?
Abdicate this volition repudiate
The time is now
For the pearlied gate's,
Profliations hit mine glut
No staying behind
If, and's or what's......
Grandiose word's from others, to much said
Guile betrayer's
Of unholiness!!!!!!
Fidelity gone unseen
Lost in finesse of torment dreams
Daunting foresight, dearth belief's
Snakes with teeth, to slither thine audacity!!!!!
Abstinent they locketh their beak's
Two people in their bipolar nature, masked freaks,
Giveth thee evidence of non-concrete
They shuffle their feet for defaming fun!!!!
Biographer's of their own self
Don't care for noone else,
Trap us in a limbo hell
Wherein croon's art pains, pain is swell
We fall
We fell........
In their devour!!!!!!!
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 8:11 PM UTC
Rhythmically reducing time
for you
for I.
Coagulation increasingly lessens the beat.
Off-written and wrecked,
We can’t turn home as
Junkies and
Dealers.
This home,
Washed out in familial gossip of relapse and resurge
After our firefights
Against venomous appetites.
Yet here we light this pipe, you and I,
With a reprise of shell-shocked war stories
Reanimating the grind
Of addiction’s battle.
Promise by the world,
A mind’s conviction and a 12-step program
Would naturally manifest in abstinent purity
And after,
Serenity.
Through the itch
Still
We are lumbering on, yet raging.
Violently insisting that these dreams are vouched for and
Stances held
Should leave our slicked soles immobile.
Smooth winds crinkling past twigs
And I with you, my dealer,
Am a lubricated branch on smooth-weathered granite grade.
In descent I tear at the throat with embarrassed tears.
Cries that only slicken the stone.
So of it, I swallow what will fill,
And beg you to do the same.
As fingernails rip from flesh
In grip of a still frame I can hear the 12-step program bid out again.
“Let there be sweat till the clouds run red.
Let trailing beads glisten while
I the blossom
Begin budding in the fall.”
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 12:00 AM UTC
Don't tell me it's natural
To look at a women inappropriately
To excuse your poor behavior
They're already scared and intimidated by thousands of other men like you
Dehumanizing them in every aspect
It is Man's greatest defect
You should only inspect
Her eyes when you are looking at her
It shouldn't matter if there's a drove of women walking down the street naked
Your eyes are not to wander
Anywhere else
It is the greatest challenge for Man
But you must do all that you can
To be abstinent of flawed desires
She is a human
Not a doll
For you to stare down and wither away one by one
I dream of a day
That a Man can resist every time
That will mean he has won the battle
That Women have been fighting
For what seems like forever
The amount of men teaching their sons
The rudiments of respect
Are far lower
Then it used to be
If I ever have a Son
He will know that he cannot disrespect them as such
Or he'll be ridiculed
In every way
Watch what you say, watch what you do and most importantly
Never make her feel blue
Always make her feel good as new
Regardless if you love her or she's just a friend
Because there are way too many lowlifes that only care about her body and their selfish desires
We need to increase our standards higher
I hope that he will be stating this in flyers
He won't be a liar
Either
When he does wrong
He'll look at her in the eye
And face the assessment he proposed upon himself
Like he should
If he's sincere
She'll love him like no one else ever could
Men are imperfect
So am I
But I challenge myself every day to improvise
On the insights and complaints of women today
And work to help these worries go away
I hope I'm a better man today
Only God knows what I truly deserve
I will preserve
My actions
And hopefully I'll be close to our goal
To be the kind of man I aspire to be.
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 12:12 AM UTC
with each kiss i can feel you slipping through my finger tips
everyone time i say i love you
i can see the pain behind your eyes
telling me that there’s no possibility that i could love thee
because i cannot relinquish myself to thee
with each embrace i can feel my bones breaking under the pressure
they snap so easily when you hold me closely
an escape mechanism, trigged by my innate reaction to flee
already picturing the way in which you’ll leave me
sooner or later, you will be gone
even though you tell me that there isn’t a chance you’d leave over something as elementary as abstinent
but the tape plays on repeat in my mind
like a broken VHS, stuck on the same scene
you finally break and go off with someone who can give you what i refuse to
leaving me alone, just like all the other skeletons before who had beautiful bones
and i, wither down further
my skeletal bones that have long been broken, start to crack
and with each repeating scene, my broken bones disintegrate
leaving behind a pile of ash.
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 5:12 PM UTC
Waiting for my beloved
The one I truly trusted
The one I fell in love with
The one I wanna be with
If only there was a way
I can meet her some day
Money's not a problem
I have 75 thousand dollars
I can buy what I want
But it won't mean a thing
If I don't have you here to sing
The songs of your soul
That never grow old
Let's get together sometime
I have valuebles we can spoil
My dad left for me but I won't use
Until I finally find you
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 5:47 PM UTC
the alcohol I use
disinfects the cuts you caused.
the alcohol you use
sterilizes sober fears.
polluted breaths
release vulnerable thoughts.
your voice turned into waves,
translated by my ears.
melted down into my blood
pumping round and round
with no way out.
although I had been cleansed,
your poison reached my brain.
and as addiction goes,
relapse occurs just as we near
a year of moderation.
Abstinent of each others
verbal affection.
mistakes have been made
but they call for a change.
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 3:26 AM UTC
incessant dilemmas;
infinite
abstinent solutions;
Nonexistent
inserted into an age
of malevolent agenda
overflowing center stage
a non-sentient vendetta
in consensus that,
ignorance is venomous,
belligerent indefinite;
self-distruction now immanent
ominous the problematic incident;
consequence from beings omniscient
for insolence of the unintelligent
across anonymous continents
triangulate,
mimic the intricate
not so distant
instant of inseminate
fruition came to the human condition
maturation a simulation
innovation in creation
Though what comes after,
disaster,
devastation,
loss,
temptation,
last stop,
"Necropolis Station"
Sep 19, 2019
Sep 19, 2019 at 6:44 AM UTC