"babied" poems
I am a Phoenix Bird I will rise from the ashes again. I have done it once and I can do it again. I don't need any man to help me to do at all.
I trusted my heart to a man who said he loved me and then he left me
for no good reason. He caused my world to come crashing down but he forgets I am street smart and street wise and I have never been babied,
I am not a mama's girl and I have been out in this world on my own before.
I will rise more glorious than before and then I will strike like a adder snake in the grass and bring you down and you will wish you had never left me or hurt me at all because you will be like Humpty Dumpty that took a great fall and Humpty Dumpty that fell off the wall and all the kings men could not put you together again because you failed to listen to me again.
I will be like the Phoenix Bird and Rise out of the ashes and when I do watch out I am coming after you to hurt you like you hurt me but you won't know when it will be.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 7:03 PM UTC
Named after the Son of the *****
Found the light while looking for the switch
In the waves
Can't compare a life to how insane I am
How are you? How is the man
Standing at 6 three in a couples years will have knee pains Longer than the synapse that runs from the hip to the chest to the cranium
Worried about fleek game and the cruise ending
At any moment now
Peace flees and crows cackle yowl
Holistic tendencies I try to keep up
And I think the time has come again to bends too and fro
With the wind, like a limb
Begging to just say I know,
Nope.
There's more after the falling action of the sad story.
I wanna say that a podium waits beneath a Jumbotron, with furious music, and o positive dripping it's ****** self down onto it
Like the excess acrylic From a mural
Slipping it's way into another mural,
Oh god. (!)
I said, I saw you in the cracks between the tile !
The cements
My hearts rots volatile while my babied mind wants repents.
I really don't wanna know how you are, what u are, whoever you are.
I just wanna praise you,
Extend my exalt in perfect symmetry out from me.
Gimme
the high and the lows
Friends and foes
The cup runneth over and hits the ground but the fountain continues to pour
Each side
Gimme ..... ...... ...... ....... Whatever it takes.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 9:04 AM UTC
I don't get mad much
But when you want to be babied
And comfortable
You will never live life
No matter how many moments
You pretend
That he is the only one
That he wont let love
Slip away
Because you think that this
Excuse for a real relationship
Will work
Keep that heart locked too tight
It will one day be broken
And you
Will remember the silly bashful boy
Who actually gave a flying ****
About you
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 6:55 PM UTC
I don’t want to fall in love
I just want to grow in love
Growing in love is devoid of heartache, devoid of jealousy, devoid of all nonsense that comes with falling in LOVE
I just want to walk in love
Babied in love, eat in love, sit and sleep in love and all nice things that comes with growing in love.
A growing love doesn’t fade
It doesn't rust but it lasts, it doesn’t die but lives.
A growing love dwarfs distances, it brings oceans together, it narrows the gap of differences and deepens the love.
A growing love has no boundaries of the worlds, rather it brings down the walls of the world.
A growing love wipes away the bitter tears of the past and gives hope for the future.
I just want to grow in in love, fertilized in love, cultivated in love, harvested in love and stored in love
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 6:11 PM UTC
When the flowers begin to grow
the tender sprouts require constant
vigilance: fed, watered and shaded
babied as they begin to grow.
Long and rangy, the show the promise
of buds in the tips of their long bodies.
Then they bloom, no assistance needed
One day just needy stalks
the next a profusion of gentle lilac
and vivid yellow and ***** red
blue, white, pink.
The delicate petals entice the insects
and charm the air with sensory beauty.
But comes a colder time
buds may crumble and revert to weeds
blossoms browning and begging for release
Bulbs straining to escape the clay *** on the patio
It’s a careful gardener who knows when
the time comes to cut off the blooms
plant the bulbs in the wild
where they will bloom for strangers.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
Nope, this work doesn't have a witty play on words for a title this is a sketch brought into life through sentences and verbs stanzas and commas aren't going to be used I'm just writing what's been on my brain.
ahem
I'm honestly pathetic I write but I'm stuck in this rut I can't seem to get out of every time I try to escape I knock myself back down through some stupid mistake or placing in the wrong person for certain I know I'm a ***** up but that's not how I grew up I can barely lift a shoe up that's how week I've gotten I don't have a physical disease but a neurological demon and if it sounds like I'm complaining I'm sorry but these feelings I've left too long on the stove steaming
the pangs of being unmoved and unloved are steering me down a dark lonely path I can't keep it too myself I have to ask am I worth it? is my gift my curse because I'm horribly sensitive that's how I learned to place in verse but releasing that pain brings up more that I've bottled I'm not writing this to be coddled or babied I just feel as if I'm going crazy like 187 dogs with rabies
I'm like Stan, Eminem's biggest fan, the morning clouds are on my window but I can't see where I'm going anymore I know life is the greatest mystery and part of the joy is in discovery, but I've done my homework and realized I'm only human after all so why stall? why should I travel on only to get knocked back into a slump or a rut again and have to start all over again?
When can I stop hiding my pain from the world?
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 6:13 PM UTC
(ix)
at a therapy session
for those
unable
to dream
I am handcuffed
to my mother
whose imaginary
lover
has lice
a baby born with a wig
rattles on
about sleep
death’s eyepatch
(x)
on these bikes these boys are beautiful
/ passing men under spell of god, the order
maybe dissolved
of the bent
cigarette
/ I will not miss art
five-thousand fathers
to burn
a fish
but ease, but hunger
a girl putting all her pain in a turtle
or in anything
lifted
from the hood
of her sister’s
coat
/ a firecracker
read
by a bone
(xi)
what a ghost knows about giving birth
powers on
a mechanical bull
father says there is nothing
like it
in Ohio
this giving
god
to a jack-in-the-box
there is a word my mom makes
from a word
she can’t
/ orbituary
/ brings it all
home
(xii)
the human dream
god’s attempt at a short story
the animal
works
miracles
/ the elephant
in its ruin
takes up
for whale
yeah, it rains here
rains
glue
adult diapers
are fishhook
rare…
/ tell your sister
nothing happened
to mine
(xiii)
imagine how long god must’ve been left alone to be named after the first person whose name he said. how hungry the mother to swallow hair. how bored her baby to remember. how small the television that spitballed hell. hidden the horse to keep its church. black the water to transport fish.
(xiv)
the black eye
given
to the moth-catcher’s
most attractive
child…
what a woman predicts
becomes false
subtraction
the plus side
of trauma
her mother’s
babied
past
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 11:48 PM UTC
I’m so angry it’s not good
I have to go in to work in about twenty minutes
and yet I don’t know if I wanna scream or cry or sleep or all of it
Let me start by saying I think my anxiety is through the roof
I feel like crap and I’m so out of it I don’t even know how I got here
sometimes I want to be babied
I want someone to help me get ready and cater to all of my needs
Keep me safe under a wing like a mother does
Like I do for my son
Tell me I’m so smart and cute and funny
In those exact words
Tell me I will be helped and safe
No one does that when you’re an adult
It’s literally you against the world
So me against the world
Me against the world
Against the world
The world
Jul 2, 2019
Jul 2, 2019 at 6:21 AM UTC
I never really understood depression until recently.
I always thought people where just babied when they were young,
Or they just cared too much about the subject,
Or they just didn't know the joy of knowing Jesus.
I would tell them to be happy.
I would list all kinds of reasons,
Like how lucky they were for this or that and so much more.
But now I understand.
My heart has been shattered and I know depression.
I know what it feels like to not be able to eat or sleep.
I know that nobody can say or do anything to help,
Except maybe the one you love.
Sometimes.
I know what its like to have a great family and friends,
But nobody to talk to.
I know what its like to be a priviledged individual,
But still feel empty.
I know what its like to have everything I need, plus more,
But it still isn't enough.
I finally understand what its like to be depressed and suicidal.
And it *****
My heart goes out to everyone in the same position.
And I hope we can all get out of this whole.
And for those who don't understand depression,
Just know that its not your fault we can't be helped,
Because nothing helps.
We might seem ok,
Because that's the show that we put on everyday
So others won't know.
We just need you to be there for us.
Not to do anything except be there.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC
father’s warning
was be
careful
them crows
is as smart
as a whip.
mine
was for my brother
said to have
a thing or two
left
to shrink-wrap
in the ****** bin.
mother’s was
twofold
and babied
itself
as forgotten.
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
I climbed that tree today
“That one we loved?”
The one we’ve always been a part of
I smell charcoal grill till the squirrels come home
and see the rocks you never let me straddle
I wrote a poem today
“The words I never fathomed?”
I grew them from our seed and I babied the roots until they brought me something forthcoming
But I saw you disgusting and rotting like fall weather will do
I had hope I gave love like a summer sun subdues
Seasons are seasons and like seasons we flee
Unbecoming unknowing unpredictable seeds
Roots do flower and we can’t blame them
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 10:43 PM UTC
It’s occured to me that under the fast food wrappers, my car smells like coconuts, it pulls to the right, and far more people have been inside than I have friends.
The first of my class to turn 16, I made them quickly.
Under the sweatshirts from days not well planned weather-wise and stray socks, my car smells like driving 80 in a 40, a boy band on the radio, and looks like all 100, 000 of the miles on it.
Under the sticky notes and cheap sunglasses from summers I spent somewhere my mother didn’t know I was, my car smells like ***** a bottle under the seat, leaking slightly, my headache the next day was more a give away regardless.
Under the mess of a hunk of metal I babied until the AC roared and the key had to be wiggled and the heat only worked on one side, my carb smells like 16 and 17 and 18 and 19; its a forever sort of smell you can’t describe but immediately place.
A cacophony of the places I’ve been.
Jan 18, 2018
Jan 18, 2018 at 12:56 AM UTC
Forgive my anger,
For death of a loving loyal thing,
Forgive my anger,
For inability to watch flightless birds fall,
Forgive my anger,
For frustration in a thriftless township,
Forgive my anger,
For failure to walk the unsteady paths,
Forgive my anger,
For fear of non-recognition of deadly things,
Forgive my anger,
For childish carelessness I heed fury for,
Forgive my anger,
For the failure of my babied plant to fruit,
So forgive my anger,
For justified failures.
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 6:50 PM UTC