"afflicted" poems
“only” the lonely know (my special sign)
{=}
an incurable silence
the meaningless, wasted touch of a hand,
attached, directed by them from them
to them
a failed reassurance
a classroom, a stadium, cornfield or grove,
so many nutted fallen solitaries fallen to rot
midst a globe of trillions never noticed,
never missed
the silly conceptual that the lonely,
special unique, blessed with a curse,
a specialist status, “only” they afflicted;
with a ken that isolates and yet feels elevated -
oh! I am special
show me one, just one, human who doesn’t truly believe,
they are the onliest loneliest and you will vision
each and every
lonely person who
secret sighs and whose first thoughts are only:
god spare me one more day of being,
fearful of achieving
my very own knowing,
in the invisible place,
the incurable silence award,
reward of another purple heart,
“only” the lonely service ribbon,
my Cain marker
~my special sign~
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 4:09 PM UTC
Ah vastness of pines, murmur of waves breaking,
slow play of lights, solitary bell,
twilight falling in your eyes, toy doll,
earth-shell, in whom the earth sings!
In you the rivers sing and my soul flees in them
as you desire, and you send it where you will.
Aim my road on your bow of hope
and in a frenzy I will flee my flock of arrows.
On all sides I see your waist of fog,
and your silence hunts down my afflicted hours;
my kisses anchor, and my moist desire nests
in your arms of transparent stone.
Ah your mysterious voice that love tolls and darkens
in the resonant and dying evening!
Thus in the deep hours I have seen, over the fields,
the ears of wheat tolling in the mouth of the wind
31.6k
Cheating can be pandemic
Heart’s afflicted and paralyzed
Mind rationalizes the malady
Sabotaging the ties of relationships
Pandemonium sweeps away all
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 8:08 AM UTC
Now this particular girl
During a ceremonious april walk
With her latest suitor
Found herself, of a sudden, intolerably struck
By the birds' irregular babel
And the leaves' litter.
By this tumult afflicted, she
Observed her lover's gestures unbalance the air,
His gait stray uneven
Through a rank wilderness of fern and flower;
She judged petals in disarray,
The whole season, sloven.
How she longed for winter then! --
Scrupulously austere in its order
Of white and black
Ice and rock; each sentiment within border,
And heart's frosty discipline
Exact as a snowflake.
But here -- a burgeoning
Unruly enough to pitch her five queenly wits
Into ****** motley --
A treason not to be borne; let idiots
Reel giddy in bedlam spring:
She withdrew neatly.
And round her house she set
Such a barricade of barb and check
Against mutinous weather
As no mere insurgent man could hope to break
With curse, fist, threat
Or love, either.
19.1k
In your vision you are the only thing with bloodshot eyes.
You always wear a robe
that speaks seven languages... and a bank of fog is at your feet
nipping at your naked heel.
In your vision you remember how your arms feel in sunshine.
It is intense.
Your can-opener is hissing an etude
that alludes to wise men...
who bathe in miracles
and roam the world,
untarnished in Poverty.
Your can-opener whispers in hush tones
about barbarians at the gate. And they say
' they've come for the Linen ! '
You are not deceived.
In your vision you are the only thing that can backward engineer
a Universe.
On your way back to the homeland of your algebra
you hesitate. “ you may have left your keys in your Other Robe...”
The Robe that hallucinates constantly~ Carrying on about
' The dire consequences of leaving terrycloth alone with the keys '
and, afflicted with Prophesy Tourettes
the piteous tide of doom ' sayeth the robe '
you must suffer.
In your vision, you are the only one
looking for the keys.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 5:09 PM UTC
Reinaldo was the name they gave the great white elephant
Who came to clear the jungles around Sao Paulo
A clever notion that because Reinaldo was born in the jungle
Any jungle would do just fine, Brazilian or Siamese made no difference
Just as clever was the notion that because I was a black man, educated
I would do just fine directing other black men to do work, English or Portuguese made no difference
Was I truly so much a fool, twice over?
Reinaldo occasionally was afflicted with slothfulness
Some of the men thought it was from lack of **** and whip
I was of a mind that it was due to lack of companionship
It was costly enough to ship one giant beast across a great sea
I left a wife, in Maryland, whom I never loved and who never loved me
I admit before the plan was in motion I never considered that Reinaldo could have a family
Sometimes, I wonder, did he have a wife who never loved him?
Loneliness became a common theme in our new home away from home
And Reinaldo and I became friends, at least I thought of him fondly
As far as I could say, of all the men he responded best to me
At times it seemed a load of lumber was hauled as a personal favor
For the handler too soft to handle with fear and anger
But as much as loneliness was a theme, so was change, and death
The lifespan of an elephant compares to the lifespan of men
Were this scheme of mine to have worked as desired
I could have sent for a cow, and made Reinaldo a sire
Soon it was revealed that slothfulness was a symptom of an elephant young, healthy and wise
Who sensed not his own, but a friend's imminent demise
Now I am left to wonder how Reinaldo will fare in a world stranger than I could have known
His softest handler and only friend bedridden, waiting for my disease to take its final toll
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 6:28 PM UTC
the feelings of hurting i've been
having since you told me the way you work
are not the worst that i've felt all
my life. it bothers me that you've gone,
and it bothers me that i'm only bothered,
not dying.
i loved you in a way i've never
loved another soul. i loved you to your core.
i loved you as a being in a faulty body.
i loved your past life's symptoms...
still do.
i feel overly sensitive
to the sun - just by rays and not
by warmth. i can soak in the warmth, i can
feel reborn if i keep my eyes closed.
i can see the blood red, begin
again. i open my eyes and i'm all
blood red and even my breath
hurts my skin.
you told me you were akin to disease,
like your own, but toward me,
and i should have made it more clear
how well i would handle the word "terminal"
if it was you who directed it at me.
to be honest i would love nothing more
than being restricted to bedrest,
afflicted with you.
you have every permission to
eat at my brain like a poison.
burn my heart with equal parts fire and acid.
i'm asking you for it. i'm asking for you.
i'm calling for you and you hear me. we see
each other, stare. you don't answer.
you wanted to clean me up, dust the
dirt of you off me, wipe the mud from my eyes
that you think surely must be keeping me
from seeing clearly. but there is no mud, just
my own dark circles. i am clean
though i stand in the deepest hole i've
ever dug. still you scrub. my skin goes
numb.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
**ABRAHAM LINCOLN’S FAMOUS CIVIL WAR CONDOLENCE LETTER TO YOUNG ***** MCCULLOUGH ABOUT DEATH, LOSS AND MEMORY**
Executive Mansion,
Washington, December 23, 1862.
Dear *****
It is with deep grief that I learn of the death of your kind and brave Father; and, especially, that it is affecting your young heart beyond what is common in such cases. In this sad world of ours, sorrow comes to all; and, to the young, it comes with bitterest agony, because it takes them unawares. The older have learned to ever expect it. I am anxious to afford some alleviation of your present distress. Perfect relief is not possible, except with time. You can not now realize that you will ever feel better. Is not this so? And yet it is a mistake. You are sure to be happy again. To know this, which is certainly true, will make you some less miserable now. I have had experience enough to know what I say; and you need only to believe it, to feel better at once. The memory of your dear Father, instead of an agony, will yet be a sad sweet feeling in your heart, of a purer, and holier sort than you have known before.
Please present my kind regards to your afflicted mother.
Your sincere friend
A. LINCOLN.
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 11:00 AM UTC
In a time,
when men were the superheroes,
born in an unconventional location,
a young girl, unknown to the future
she was destined to,
was born with a uniqueness
unfound in all people, a superpower
of empathy
and as she grew,
the world knew
she was imbued
as a living embodiment of legends:
Athena's wisdom,
beauty that surpassed the goddess Aphrodite,
conversational skills that made Hermes envious,
and strength that Hercules
could never attain.
As she approached an age, when her parents would
trust her to be guardian,
her powers manifested.
This incredible child was now a woman.
With the ability to heal those in need: she could expunge
poison that had afflicted a person,
even their hearts,
a God-given gift for those most sacred;
her correspondences exponentially developed,
able to connect in all languages, fueled by her empathetic nature,
this allowed all who interacted with her to trust her for she radiates sincerity.
Now, fully grown, this super-no-
This Wonder Woman had retired her duties
to save the world, not forsake it, but,
to train Wonder Girl, her daughter,
to unlock the latent abilities her mother had passed on to her.
She still looks up at the Higher Power
and realizes her duty to provide
the world justice is not over
but only beginning.
Her holy spirit was not unacknowledged
and was gifted
a bulletproof bracelet,
forged by the most skilled craftsman by direction
of all that is wise and healing.
Given to her to wear
so that nothing could halt her
as she continues
her fate to provide the world a humanity
that could only come from
an intrinsically true
dear heart.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
My body is tossed about by violent jolts that fling my unwilling and powerless self about,
a helpless prisoner within.
Even without breath my chest still contorted,
making the pain sting, poke, and **** with every up and down.
Of course,
I am afflicted with hiccups.
I put my small sufferings into poetic sequence in an unconscious attempt at being rid of them.
They're gone.
Going through the short poem,
Correcting little errors.
Up
Down
Jolt
Sting
****
They're back
Of course,
I am afflicted with hiccups.
Hiccups are *****
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 3:56 PM UTC
As the light and shadows of overthinking roll over,
And the yellow raspberries start to doubt their realities,
I'll be here - owning nameless cats and refusing to buy furniture;
Lusting for the life I thought I had, green-eyed and sadistic.
Let's take a selfie. TRIPLE CHIN!
As you swipe for filters,
And draw a ***** on your friend's face,
I'll be here - fighting the urge to be useless;
Tapping and holding for fake friends.
Selfies. We've been afflicted with this terrible, god-awful disease.
And as you post a shaky video of your boyfriend driving?
And laugh at that joke you know you didn't find funny
I will be here - throwing my circles of seconds away.
Three, two, one.
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 12:28 PM UTC
I’m fine, thanks…
Is that what you truly mean?
Or do you mean
I’m tired…
I’m lonely…
I’m hurt…
Confused. Bewildered. Angered.
Disillusioned…
Skeptical…
Or maybe
I’m distressed…
I’m woeful…
I’m pathetic…
Lost. Vulnerable.
Infuriated…
Empty. Lifeless. Crushed. Tortured. Dejected. Offended. Afflicted.
Desolate. Desperate. Rejected. Heartbroken…
Tormented…
I’m scared…
I’m disgruntled…
Embarrassed…
Weak. Dreadful. Hungry. Aggravated.
Guilty… Shameful… Frustrated… Jealous… Horrified…
Overwhelmed…
Devastated…
Defeated…
Is fine ever what you truly mean?
Or is it a cover?
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 3:57 PM UTC
I peered into the future and saw
Possibilities dancing in semi-reality
like snowflakes beneath a stormy sky.
But the one before us was clear
as ice upon the frosted curved glass.
A madness has spread among
the countless peoples of the world.
A disease of the mind which makes it seem
to the sick man as if they are made
of glass. A fragile thing, so
frail and delicate they might break
upon any but the softest impact.
The afflicted, day and night, scream in fear
at any possible contact harder
than the lightest touch.
“I’ll break”, their blood-chilling screams
echo through the empty halls of history.
The world has broken in this future
like a music-box wound down to
silence. Men and women hide in
padded chambers, for fear of breaking
their porcelain forms upon a pavement
or stones a toddler could step over.
A cure for the glass does not exist,
save for a light tap to show the ill
that they are more than they believe.
Yet the sick would rather not be healed
than face the reality of their own resilience.
The world cannot hurt you, my friend,
but you yourself can hurt the world
and shatter it like a crystalline snowglobe.
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 10:54 AM UTC
Wise scarecrow with
Awareness both harrowing and
fallowing, wisdom and knowledge.
Straw in glove you stand in a field
straw man, scarer, protecter of the
unseen world, and fields.
Kuebiko (崩え彦 "disabled prince")
you have no legs to roam,stood out in the wet and cold.
You and I Mr scarecrow are alike, no working legs.
Afflicted bodily,our minds still know
Impaired we are a pair of straw myths
Because he stands all day outdoors, he knows everything
Because I sit all day indoors, I know time.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
I need to cleanse it, free myself
Of this burden tainted upon
My being. Cinders are drenched on
Flesh
Spirit
Expunge
That which writhes is not burnt away,
So I must eradicate its stench
It violates upon my being
I unburden the pressures so released,
Pyroclastic flows breath exfoliation on my
Soul,
Pealed,
Freed
Of that stench scorched into oblivion
I relish in the torment of those below
Freshly parched earth as lungs burn breath,
"Fallen misery descends in singed flesh"
I release the Feathers weighted down
Haemorrhaging as crimson flows to the
Stems, expanding into the beauty
Of death, I am
Released,
Liberated,
Redeemed
Upon the fallen as I step upon ash
"Bones, death, rebirth"
As no longer afflicted,
I am once again blanched as purest darkness
Is Neither black or grey
"But lucid white"
"As purity is only clean"
"I am purity of darkness"
And the taints of humanity are flakes upon
Silent statues upon the ground, I am malevolent incarnate..
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
1. Spread claims you are the only one who can stop corrupt politicians and their dependence on the rich (even though you yourself belong to the rich)
2. Spread lies and insults about anyone who might look like a serious opponent
3. Once you are in power, continue 1. & 2. and put your rich friends into influential positions in state offices and courts, give tax breaks to the rich and claim that everyone benefits from them. Declare any information that runs counter to your lies „fake news“.
4. Invent threats to the security and well-being of the nation and then claim you are the one who can solve all the problems by strict measures, like building a 2,000 mile wall against those criminal immigrants that threaten your people – what the „fake news“ reports as a few thousand refugees from neighboring countries who flee from misery and persecution and crime and hope to get asylum in your country of 350 million.
5. Cut your aid programs for the home countries of those resfugees so that the situation there worsens even more and even more people will try to run for a better life, and you can rhetorically justify inhuman security measures at your borders.
6. On a different field, isolate your country internationally, be the elefant in the china shop, break or end international agreements, destabilize whole regions, and then threaten to send the military – all of which, you tell your voters, makes your country great again.
7. Start trade wars with old global partners, accusing them of taking advantage of your countrty, and when your own economy suffers from such idiocies, calm your afflicted followers with federal subsidies that jolt the nationl deficit to singular heights.
8. Fire (or mob into retirement) any critical person in your government until all your officials speak with your voice.
9. Look around for a worthy cause to be the focus of your consoldidated power.
10. Start a world war and lose it.
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 5:21 PM UTC
I bleed just the way you do
Words just do not leave a mark
That you can see
But words can scar
You don't need to see the bruise
But, damage has been done
Although it's hidden
It hurts to hide it
just like you, when cut I bleed
I wear my heart upon my sleeve
just like you when cut I bleed
I wear my heart upon my sleeve
I used to hide my deepest pain
Not physically inflicted
Then I learned that words hurt more
I was one of the afflicted
sticks and stones will break my bones
but words will never hurt me
unless you know the words to use
And then choose to desert me
just like you, when cut I bleed
I wear my heart upon my sleeve
just like you when cut I bleed
I wear my heart upon my sleeve
Bullies come in many forms
They live just to deceive
I used to hide away from them
Now, my heart is on my sleeve
I have a heart and it will break
But, it will always go on beating
For now, I always venture forth
No more am I retreating
just like you, when cut I bleed
I wear my heart upon my sleeve
just like you when cut I bleed
I wear my heart upon my sleeve
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 11:31 PM UTC
I am invisible
and invincible,
an unknown image,
known only with
my visible mask,
an invisible soul,
hidden behind the veil,
shrouded in the
cocoon called
the body,
peeping through
two tiny holes,
from the invisible.
And the one writing,
is invisible
with an invisible heart,
penning the words
of the invisible thoughts,
flowing from the
invisible through the
cracks of the
invisible powerful mind.
An invisible soul
dwelling within
a sound visible body
with a sound
invisible mind,
doing the impossible
and great things
with giant strides
to influence and
impact my world.
I dominate and subdue
the oppressors and
adversaries with the
might of an invincible
invisible warrior.
I healed the
sick and afflicted
with the invisible and
powerful affection of
my invisible love
from my invisible heart.
©2019,Emeka Mokeme.
Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 3:03 AM UTC
I bet you didn't know that the 7 dwarfs
Used to work for Santa Claus
Yep, they all got fired from the north pole
Cause they kept breaking too many laws
See, Doc was the north pole physician
He tended to those who were afflicted
But he was writing too many prescriptions
And three hundred elves got addicted
Then we have the dwarf called Sneezy
Sneezy became a problem too
Everywhere he goes he's blowing his nose
And they all came down with the flu
Next we have the dwarf named Sleepy
Now this one should speak for itself
He was always found somewhere laying down
Curled up in a corner on a shelf
Then there's the dwarf called Bashful
This one was just way too shy
And when they finally gave him his pink slip
He was too embarressed to say goodbye
That brings us to the dwarf named Happy
Now he was just a bundle of joy
But they just couldn't get him to do any work
Cause he was always playing with the toys
And of course we can't forget about *****
This one always did what they said
But he was a little slow, if you know what I mean
And they think he was dropped on his head
And last but not least we have Grumpy
He would stay out drinking all night
Now he was the the north pole's problem child
Cause he was always starting all the fights
Well that's the end of my story
And I really hope you're not annoyed
Did I tell you Snow White fired them too?
Yep, all seven dwarfs are unemployed
Apr 7, 2010
Apr 7, 2010 at 11:06 AM UTC
I want the hollow
Cheeks.
The full, adipose, smooth
Lips.
The white-boned,
Pearls she calls
Teeth.
I want the bright, clean,
Sun bleached
Hair.
The fine, sharpened,
Ready for scratching, Spotless
Nails.
The refined, sculpted,
Long, profiled
Nose.
I want gold to flake,
Off my ageing,
porous, dull,
Skin.
I want the protruding,
Famished, angled
Bones.
I want the pumping,
Arrhythmic
Heart.
The tired, hissing,
Tar coated, smoker’s
Lungs.
The round, fleshy,
Cellulite covered
***
The motherly, but
Childless plump
*******
I want the barren,
Bleeding, afflicted
******
I want the faint,
Wispy, high-pitched,
Call that she calls a
Voice.
The bruised, bulging,
Porcelain polished, etched
Knuckles.
The wide, protruding,
Ballooned up, dangling
Hips.
The numb, heavy, metal
Flavored, gum bleeding
Mouth.
I want the skewed,
Backwards, lost
Pedals she calls
Feet.
I want the hearing less,
Wax, pus covered,
Ears.
The lost dull, lifeless
Dumbed down, blue
Eyes.
I want to be her,
All of them, and none.
I want to be lost,
Unwilling, tame, voiceless,
Mindless, childless,
Sexless, man-less.
I want to be her, but I
Can’t.
I cannot because I am
Thought burdened, fat,
Violent, screaming,
Child laden, broken nosed,
Coarse.
I cannot because dirt
Flakes off my young
Skin.
Because my heart pumps,
Oxygenated blood,
At a steady, rhythmic
Beat.
My voice baritones,
Deep, bottomless,
Whispers.
I sit on flat, concave
Muscle.
My lungs breathe,
Strong, fresh, smog-less
Air.
Yellow stained, grainy, calcium-ridden
Teeth.
Dark, musty, greased
Hair.
I want to be her,
But I won’t.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
Things unspeakable,
like a river meandering,
surge in my soul,
calls out to me,
inspires my mind with
intriguing force.
Afflatus of the cosmic
impressed with love
enough to be true
caressed my whole
being with power
to dare to do
the impossible.
This impression of
what is inside
my being cannot
be fathomed.
The beauty of the
spirit engulfed
my soul.
Nurtured by grace
and infinite power,
emboldened by
the influence
of love divine to
heal the afflicted.
And now I possessed
the dynamic incredible
unction to influence
and affect my world.
All these are possible
because of grace.
More grace has
been given to excel.
Be thankful and receive it.
Rejoice and be grateful for
the glorious treasures available.
When grace speaks
qualifications dies.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 4:09 PM UTC