"backlashes" poems
Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me.
Fool me again, this is getting old.
Let's just skip to number ten, I'm way past just being bold.
I think I can do whatever I want
But no, consequences exist...
Backlashes exist...
Other people exist...
C'mon I need to resist!
Self control is my issue and I need it to survive.
Help, some one help I just need to feel alive.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC
******* complaining again.
Well, that group doesn't exist except when bigots speaks.
And when they speaks, it's to the group that created racial mistakes.
Who feels they still should be treated like royals?
When in truth they facing destructive backlashes for their past.
Oh, those Mexicans, them wetbacks just coming here illegally.
Strange that many gets hired by the forces in power4.
And paid less to achieve their required purpose.
Then when they are exposed as cheap-scapes.
Then trouble arises to ship them back.
And the excuses begins that many was unaware.
Yes, excuses from one group isn't nothing new.
Discrimination they drive upon.
Especially if they the ones gaining from it.
And they still trying to demand respect.
What the heck?
Like slave-masters they barely got their hands *****
So most likely that nut might win the election.
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 3:49 PM UTC
Her eyes bleed and light backlashes from the closed eyelids
seemingly beautiful that her eyes wield such painful grace
her face sincere of all pain inflicted, with no care
nevertheless she bleeds and shows no emotion of pain
sheer ecstasy of being in the pain we've all caused her
she's the good kind, God's kind, what we'd all lie to be like
she's the one, who hides it all, lives a small life, does it right
holding everything tight it falls apart but she's still standing
the suffering makes her strong knowing she can hold out
because He will never stop holding her
Dec 30, 2010
Dec 30, 2010 at 11:19 AM UTC
I’m getting bad at what I do
I’m getting words stuck behind my teeth like pills in peanut butter,
words stuck between my teeth like apple pulp.
I’m getting backlashes of food poisoning,
how my whole body became a devil entity and I swooned in and of desperate consciousness,
how walking was the hardest.
Like how acid trips give you acid slips
Like how you never wanted me,
like how I’ll stop caring eventually.
But now I’m choking on my words and there’s no excuse
And I used to write poems about self abuse
that I never gave myself.
But for now, words fumble
like I did for you.
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 11:57 AM UTC
Why do I feel that he is still my world!
Why do I still love his beautiful curls!
I hold to his memories, like they were pearls!
I'm stuck in emotions, twisting like whirls!
Does he realize I've lived through these lashes?
Will he even know, if my number flashes?
Wonder if my smile, on his screen-saver he watches!
Wonder when memories peep, he stops or backlashes?
Do I regret, now as I bethink?
For an affair that was gone, even before I winked!
We were man and wife, though it was not inked.
We felt our love, would always keep us linked!
Does he still care? Does he still tear?
Will I ever dare? Why do I fear?
Verdicts were made, and we adhered!
Just live to bear! Life is austere!
Nov 18, 2011
Nov 18, 2011 at 7:14 AM UTC
Tears have fallen as stars from the sky
Destruction of human self with each meteorite
Truth prods this soul once led by a lie
Dares to question causing pain making it aright
My everything saw my error nearly to late
Suicidal thoughts are no relief nor thought of end
Mighty lies tie and bind to quick a rate yet
Sent me to thy Savior did my lover an' friend
Breaking free from chains that choked life
Running from the beach to Tower upon the Rock
Backlashes come yet I remain unmoved
Rock of Ages has become my Eternal Salvation
Written about a year ago
Published 11/27/2012 During similar emotional circumstances
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 10:39 PM UTC
Dreams, maybe even reality. They mix, like an image of liquid.
Starts out smooth, before the burn, before the aftertaste.
A grey, almost invisible mosaic slowly dissipating into thin air.
It filters through, down your shoulder blades, past your collarbone and right underneath your ribcage.
It is met with a sizzle, the one that shoots right up your spine.
So many contradictions, all promising yet distant .
Gruff, like sandpaper yet a little less revolting.
The palpitations intertwining, drawing the minutes out.
It starts to sting, then slowly turns into numbness.
It is welcoming and comforting.
Remembrance is but a fatality, losing sense of time.
The moment backlashes, the atmosphere crackles like bones.
Thoughts of things that don't exist, a new plane of existence.
Condensation, trickling and dipping between crevices.
The air is thick, not safe for use.
Every breath turns into a chore.
The only focus is the slow and muffled inhale followed by a regretted exhale.
Answers become twine, slowly unraveling.
They seem clear, but the illusion matured.
It surpassed the point of recognition, leaving a trace of resemblance.
The itch is unbearable, gnawing at the center of the subconscious.
As it all slowly filters away the emptiness turns to comfort.
The feeling of fulfillment becoming too distorting, and the calling for loss begins.
Varying pressures assure one thing; the existence of movement.
The cloaking of heat starts to slip and sudden rushes of frost accentuate the loss and gain.
The silence is unusually foreboding, but needed.
Calloused fingertips don't burn, but summon shivers instead.
Sudden unwanted thoughts play out behind shut eyelids.
It is all just a texture, nothing more.
Not what is expected but a dip in time, a halt in speed.
Soon the clock will start ticking on and the gap will bridge itself.
It is the hesitancy that keeps the moment hanging.
It is the fright of losing a small piece of understanding, or the warping of simplicity.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
Deny thyself any such loving touch I giv'st,
Upon thy neck, upon thy bust, thy lips-
For if thy ever doubting trust has soared
Into the obscure, Oh! a most just reward
For my actions, then I must account
For this and more, for, I am thus bound
To these backlashes which I must endure
In these days of no fair love, this shut door;
Which I admit aquit me not of Lust before;
And days know thereof, evil once did line
Within me then, now exposed; once within,
Always with. Fair enough, I admit my sin!
"To err is human; to forgive, divine."
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 12:26 AM UTC
An explosion
Rage at the system
Red
Violent
Rage at injustice
Blood
Anger
Rage forced inwards
Backlashes
Brawls
Or Self-harm
And the rage
Rages on
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 7:16 PM UTC
Now that you know.
I can’t bear to look at you.
Forcing your pearly whites to appear,
Forcing your hazy foggy eyes to be clear.
I can’t bear to look at you.
Not while I cried for help.
Your mind turns mechanically, going through it’s archives and researching how to solve or rather save me.
I see the exhaustion in your eyes.
I feel the ache in your chest
And I’m reminded that it’s all me.
So I smile, I wear a brand new mask that has no holes or openings for errors.
I under-think and run away from the realization that I can’t escape my depression.
I stare at my anti depressants and refuse to be complacent to its backlashes.
I stare at them and refuse to watch it fully consume and burn me right to ash.
I have a new mask.
Because now you know.
I’ll save us.
Don’t worry about me anymore.
My mask is tighter than ever.
Jun 20, 2019
Jun 20, 2019 at 2:32 AM UTC