"catastrophize" poems - Hello Poetry

And I want us to realize what your lashes hide away. And I want us to be behind those eyes when you look at me that way. And I feel my irises dilate, and my glance falls astray from those orbs that mesmerize and catastrophize my love struck brain, And I Just wonder, as my heartbeat flies... As my gaze takes in the flush of your cheeks... (as I flush mine) Though that gaze won't dare rise to those laughing stars on your face. I wonder... Tell me, since I'm suddenly shy. Do your eyes... does your heart dilate the same?

0

Jun 23, 2015

Jun 23, 2015 at 1:47 PM UTC

ian-steele

And I Catch Those Glimpses

And I want us to realize what your lashes hide away. And I want us to be behind those eyes when you look at me that way. And I feel my irises dilate, and my glance falls astray from those orbs that mesmerize and catastrophize my love struck brain, And I Just wonder, as my heartbeat flies... As my gaze takes in the flush of your cheeks... (as I flush mine) Though that gaze won't dare rise to those laughing stars on your face. I wonder... Tell me, since I'm suddenly shy. Do your eyes... does your heart dilate the same?

17

Too tight Your arms brazen circling me Leading me to your core I am not the apple to adore nor can I allow the fluttering in my stomach to catastrophize my mind Admiration has it's bouts But those who admire grow bored And the admired become ill and hollowed out with bitterness and shallow sound-- tink tink tinking of glasses filled with ice and the numbing of high proofed haste Steady now! The notion is fiercely romanticized Yet hardly fulfilled Showing the minds eye just can't be sought out For I will surely begin to disappear And you will surely march towards the counterpart of the compass with the parts of me I so tenderly keep tucked abroad Be careful! Now with the tables turned You are beginning to show your bitter cheeky side (C) Tiffanie Doro

0

Sep 29, 2013

Sep 29, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC

tiffanie-noel-doro

A gesture

Too tight Your arms brazen circling me Leading me to your core I am not the apple to adore nor can I allow the fluttering in my stomach to catastrophize my mind Admiration has it's bouts But those who admire grow bored And the admired become ill and hollowed out with bitterness and shallow sound-- tink tink tinking of glasses filled with ice and the numbing of high proofed haste Steady now! The notion is fiercely romanticized Yet hardly fulfilled Showing the minds eye just can't be sought out For I will surely begin to disappear And you will surely march towards the counterpart of the compass with the parts of me I so tenderly keep tucked abroad Be careful! Now with the tables turned You are beginning to show your bitter cheeky side (C) Tiffanie Doro

19

Sitting in circles counting our dimes Holding tiny pieces of plastic close To my heart, I say slow To my mind, I say keep racing We must hope to stumble upon a solution We must hope But these are quite hard times And there is no face not morose With my heart, I weep With my mind, I catastrophize Everything is really that terrible It truly is When one is so poor to dwell upon crimes Little that is gained used to overdose And I hope my heart stops beating And I hope my mind quits thinking This is not solving any problems Tragedy of pauper

0

Jan 2, 2018

Jan 2, 2018 at 8:37 PM UTC

sierraisthepen

Poor With Tragedy

Sitting in circles counting our dimes Holding tiny pieces of plastic close To my heart, I say slow To my mind, I say keep racing We must hope to stumble upon a solution We must hope But these are quite hard times And there is no face not morose With my heart, I weep With my mind, I catastrophize Everything is really that terrible It truly is When one is so poor to dwell upon crimes Little that is gained used to overdose And I hope my heart stops beating And I hope my mind quits thinking This is not solving any problems Tragedy of pauper

18

THE SKY IS FALLING! THE SKY IS F A L L I N G! our sitch at the moment is quite the same unless we are crying WOLF! WOLF! thank u miss info dis-em-e-na-tor donny j without whom we wouldn’t be standing under umbrellas with baren spines as the thunderous angry skies fully open upon us Presidential now, are we? Yoda would posit To the game, late you are #45 THE SKY IS FALLING as wall street is we shelter in place social animals that we are self isolate worry catastrophize ignore attempts to hold on we reach out to comfort to be comforted get out your cards throw the i ching the runes program & grid your crystals wash your hands cover your mouth maintain isolation social distance daren’t cough sneeze touch try not to breathe thru all this cling to sanity cuz baby looks like we just stepped on the carousel

0

Mar 21, 2020

Mar 21, 2020 at 9:15 PM UTC

rochellefoles

Heed Chicken Little

THE SKY IS FALLING! THE SKY IS F A L L I N G! our sitch at the moment is quite the same unless we are crying WOLF! WOLF! thank u miss info dis-em-e-na-tor donny j without whom we wouldn’t be standing under umbrellas with baren spines as the thunderous angry skies fully open upon us Presidential now, are we? Yoda would posit To the game, late you are #45 THE SKY IS FALLING as wall street is we shelter in place social animals that we are self isolate worry catastrophize ignore attempts to hold on we reach out to comfort to be comforted get out your cards throw the i ching the runes program & grid your crystals wash your hands cover your mouth maintain isolation social distance daren’t cough sneeze touch try not to breathe thru all this cling to sanity cuz baby looks like we just stepped on the carousel

57

I patiently catastrophize the boisterous morning that will follow. A day, like today, mourning, in a tentative morning. I knew they were there, but, how much can they deny me sensation before they clamor and destroy what is left inside? An ego idealized by the being of passion. Driven, to a harrowing morning. Mourning. Polish the idea that this is safe, that this is meant to be. Crumble into insanity at night. Mourn the morning afterwards. This is existence? A mind incapable of compartmentalization.

0

Jan 15, 2018

Jan 15, 2018 at 10:57 AM UTC

Jbizzle1996

compartment

I patiently catastrophize the boisterous morning that will follow. A day, like today, mourning, in a tentative morning. I knew they were there, but, how much can they deny me sensation before they clamor and destroy what is left inside? An ego idealized by the being of passion. Driven, to a harrowing morning. Mourning. Polish the idea that this is safe, that this is meant to be. Crumble into insanity at night. Mourn the morning afterwards. This is existence? A mind incapable of compartmentalization.

15