"coddle" poems
We held hands as time's sand
passed between. Night chocked
the last sun beams. Our conversation
was pertinent to the dwindling
red wine bottle. As the moon glazed
shore began to roar, she whispered
"Let's cuddle." I dropped you, holding her,
and thought "Oh" and began to coddle.
I wrapped myself around her like a shell to a turtle
and she began to nestle on my chest. I guessed
the indigestion came from the Bordeaux bottom.
Boy, was I wrong. See, as I lay with her,
forgetting about you, I remembered
blood is thicker than water. The loves
we choose are stronger than ones
We've fallen into. I wasn't falling there,
underneath the stars, next to the parked car.
I was laying. I was contemplating
as the wind was spraying the lake
into the air.
I came to the conclusion
I was in an illusion of love.
Confounded by smoke and reflections
from movie magicians. She looked up
to me and I guess she could see
my reality crumbling in the breeze.
She asked if I was ok. My slight smile alluded
I was and we laid in love
until the sun's intrusion.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 4:44 PM UTC
I am not a poet
Because I don't have the
Vast vocabulary of most
And I can't tell you the
Difference
Between haikus and acrostics
And I don't know
How many stanzas make up
A "good write"
I am not a poet
Because I'm a psychopath
And I sip my coffee
From the wrong side of the mug
And I open my banana
Upside-down
And I tangle my heart
Into knots on purpose
Despite it's resilience
I am not a poet
No, I'd like to think
That I'm the poem
But I'm not that either
I'm more of a chaperon
For life's chaos
I watch over the panic attacks
And I coddle the over doses
No, no,
I am not a poet
How can I be?
When I've been tipping
And tapping
My shoes in the hall
Just waiting for doomsday
I've just been hoping
Praying
For this to be simple
For the sky to come crashing down
Because then I can say
That the bills
The rent
The schooling
The mainstream ********
Was all meaningless
I am not a poet
Because I can't make a good
Rhyme
And I'm not as clever
As I used to be
I am not a poet
Because I often succumb to the
********** of others' words
Because I know that
They said it better
Than I ever could
And I am not a poet
Because I'd rather quote
Those before me
Than find strength in my own
Broken syllables
I am not a poet
But I am the raw
And deep
Bleeding sore on the side
Of your mouth
That you can't help but chew at
That you could never possibly
Ignore
I'm not a poet
Because these words
Really belong
To the wind
And my pulse rests
In the Earth's crust
And my emotions
Connect in the sky
And my fingertips
Are made from stardust
No,
I am not a poet
*Every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And, the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than your right hand. It really is the most poetic thing I know about physics: You are all stardust. You couldn’t be here if stars hadn’t exploded, because the elements - the carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, iron, all the things that matter for evolution and for life - weren’t created at the beginning of time. They were created in the nuclear furnaces of stars, and the only way for them to get into your body is if those stars were kind enough to explode. So, forget Jesus. The stars died so that you could be here today.
—Lawrence M. Krauss*
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 7:28 PM UTC
Say my love is easy had,
Say I'm bitten raw with pride,
Say I am too often sad--
Still behold me at your side.
Say I'm neither brave nor young,
Say I woo and coddle care,
Say the devil touched my tongue--
Still you have my heart to wear.
But say my verses do not scan,
And I get me another man!
4.5k
The malignant light blinds me into a drunken haze, intoxicating my toes until my body begins to dance, thoughtlessly
Eyes closed, arms open, godly, peaceful, strong
Why doesn't everyone raise their arms to the grateful sky and soak in the golden bath of golden sun, to feel for once in their lives golden
Why do I seem alone in my gentle ****** curve while they seem bland and gray, straight lined lips across their face, a line of soldiers, unforgiving and unbreakable.
Why do I only feel joy?
Thoughts shoot through me like tommy gun bullets through the streets of old Chicago, covered in hot blood, hot money, and hot nights. Drugs in my veins, matches in my pockets, all eyes on me and my mafia heart raising a pistol to my brain and conquering its control.
Baby I like it, the way I move through the floor, seeing the monsters that weren’t there before, descending into maniacal darkness unknown, smiling while I’m screaming, never alone
Sunshine, you are mine, my arms coddle you close, the sunshine endlessly streaming through my fingertips, a buzzing crescendo of ecstasy. You are all mine. This perfect heart contained in the cavity of this body overbeats, skipping steps, tumbling forward, 800 miles per hour, too fast to be caught by the blue-sheilded men who wish to stop it. Stop this heart and stop the world, for it is its red hot core.
Pompous, conceited, it paints itself across my soul, yet I cannot contain what my emotions do, a little twisted, a little crazy, a little unwell.
And then I crash again.
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 6:57 PM UTC
i no longer have the time,
to coddle the feelings of others
who have disregarded the emotions
i have confided
i no longer have the will,
to beg for the love of people
who don't deserve mine...
i no longer have the heart,
to hold on to, and give my all to
someone, who will
not give even a fraction to me
i no longer have the patience
to apologize for things
that are not my fault
i am growing out of the mindset,
to be upset.
to rant and to rave.
to hurt, and to hold grudges.
to be petty,
and to strain my heart.
... my patience has run thin for those types of things
..... and for things of that such
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 8:22 PM UTC
in the asexual community,
a lot is done to coddle the ****** interests of those who don't feel ****** attraction.
the thing is, *** negatives are often ignored.
*** positives get countless affirmations, but *** negative are pushed under the rug.
simply put, all people are important regardless of ****** desire.
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC
Trolling Amazon I found my inner Kurtz
Harrison foreswore my bear totem: darkness
Lady gal pal taught me soul-mating hurts
Martha Muffins vinyl v. Kirby’s Agatha Harkness
Saved my twins made them productive
Mutating FF X to Avengers indie 80s on me take
Man-starring all the boogie children say code this grandpa
Gaiman Miller Moore Morrison invade Waid
Wrightson Kaluta Jones Smith put bronze to paint
McKean Sienkiewicz Mack Maleev mimic The Studio
Now let’s gallery our portals strung from kid dimensions
Makers engaging history NOW NEW 52 intervals starstruck
Spread indie throughout known multiverse in craft crooks
While nursing nannies coddle light corners scuttling roaches
Bell & Schrödinger's cat transport trainspotting to a fine art
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
I can't help
The things you hate me for
I can't change
What turned our tables of jealousy
But
I won't relinquish
My dreams to coddle your desires
I won't apologize
For how you've played your hand
But
As much as
I do
Hate you
I love you
More
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 10:39 PM UTC
Your heart bleeds patriotism
My heart bleeds sorrow
Your body bleeds privilege
My body bleeds suffering
Your mind bleeds ignorance
My mind bleeds in response
We are not the same nor will we ever be
But how long will it take to respect me
Why coddle me with fake pity
We know this never ends pretty
I’ll give up what you call a senseless fight
as soon as you genuinely attempt to see our plight
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 10:11 AM UTC
I can't tell you how much I'm hurting
To acknowledge my pain is weakness
To share my weakness is pathetic
But I hurt, oh, I hurt
I can't tell you how much I want you to love me
Because to say it would be to jinx it
And to jinx it would be to lose you
But, by god, I wish you loved me
I can't explain how much I depend on you
Because to explain would be to trust you
And to trust you would be to make me vulnerable
But I depend on you. I really do.
I can't tell you all the little things I want you to say
Because to tell you would be to make them unoriginal
And to make them unoriginal would be to make them unsatisfactory
But I wish you would coddle me and tell me those things
I can't tell you how much I want to be yours
Because to tell you would be to give you power over me
And to give you the power would be to give you my leash
But I wish I could, and you would own me.
I can't tell you how twisted I am
Because to tell you would be to make you notice
And to make you notice would be to disgust you
But I wish you'd accept me
I can't tell you
I'm sorry for that
You've given me your trust
But I can't give it back
I can't explain
So I'll apologize
I simply don't want to be
Pathetic in your eyes
I can't confide
And I'll always feel remorse
But if I were to lose you
I'd feel much worse
I can't be who you wish me to be
So I'll keep who I really am
Under lock and key
I'll chain up my personality
So, ideally you'll see
The person you can't help but love
That person that leaves you starstruck
I'll hold back all I am
Because I am not your ideal
And your ideals are above me
So I can't let myself be real
I've shunned who I am
Because of who you are
I am bitter and angry
But you'll never see my scars
I want to let you closer
I want to try my luck
But deep down I know
I'm not who leaves you starstruck
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 10:18 AM UTC
I miss you.
You were the only perfect thing I ever made.
I had been so excited.
You were ours.
You were mine.
I have never felt closer.
I had been so excited.
You had erased my fears.
Nothing matter but you.
I had been so excited.
I went through so much so I could have you,
And keep you safe.
I wanted to hold you.
I wanted to coddle you.
Even hearing you cry would've been better than this.
That's all I wanted.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 3:42 PM UTC
I wonder what you'd say if you could see me now.
If we passed on the street, would you recognize me?
Because
I made something of myself, you know?
I hold down a great job.
My coworkers love me.
People respect me because I'm good at what I do.
People respect me because I'm a good friend.
People respect me because I respect them.
I made something of myself, you know?
I pay my rent and bills and insurance
On time with the money I earn by hard work,
And hell, I'm proud of me.
I made something of myself, you know?
Made a few friends along the road
And communication keeps us staying that way.
They know where I stand
And they're proud of me too.
I made something of myself, you know?
I guess you really don't.
It's been years since you've picked up the phone
To ask me how I am,
To see what I've done,
To learn what kind of person I'm become,
To behold the woman I have grown into.
I've made something of myself, you see.
And it just plain *****
That you refuse to be
A mother to me.
I don't need you to coddle,
To hand-hold or problem-solve.
I just need you to be
My mom.
I'm grown, I'm adulting, I'm fine.
But, don't you wish you knew me now
Instead of just the me when I was a kid?
Don't you wish you could see
The person I've grown to be?
Would you ever be proud of me?
I guess I'll never know.
But before I go,
Thanks.
Really.
You may not be the best role model or mom,
But I am who I am today
Because I chose to be.
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
Freshman year:
"Creepy-Crusty Freshman"
We thought we had it together,
but everyone else knew.
We were just beginning,
We were separate, naive and secluded.
Sophomore year:
Forgotten students.
Not ready for college
Yet not a new baby to coddle,
We were simple floating and following the beaten path.
Junior Year:
Most stressful endeavors
ACTs, SATs, AP tests
Do good they said,
Prepare for senior year,
"It goes by fast"
So do this and do that, but don't do that.
Senior Year:
Apply for colleges!
Don't be late! Meet the deadlines!
Senioritis.
We wanted it to go by fast and they said it would, and it did.
So fast that our last day was March 16th
Instead of May 22nd
We had no idea that we would never say a proper goodbye,
that we would never throw our caps to fly high,
that we would never dance to tacky music for the last time at our 'senior prom'
We had no idea what senior year would be.
But we now know what it was not.
It was not easy
not simple or complete,
straight-forward or whole,
Not ordinary and certainly not fair.
2020 Seniors did not get a senior year.
We did not get open houses for the masses,
Or graduation with peers from our classes.
In kindergarten we were told to stand tall and speak up, and chin up. Make friends because they'll be with you your whole school life. One day you will cross the stage with them.
But senior year we were told to be quiet, wear a mask. Stay inside, don't say goodbye, good luck on your own. You'll graduate alone.
Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 1:53 AM UTC
A CRIMINAL TODDLER
She is young, at the age of two,
and does not know what her life hides.
She is from her mother severed
and her life is filled with dark clouds.
Her mother is divorced for sins.
She was for sure just accused of.
The child is looked at from the start
as daughter of illegal love.
As a toddler, she needs hands to lift
when she falls, but she's left to cry.
She smiles but always she receives
a scowl but she just can't know why.
She goes to her grandfather's side
expecting him to coddle her.
He pushes her and she falls down
He will of crying her deter.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________________________________
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 4:52 PM UTC
A scalpel or incision will leave me with an evil vision
Torn from religion, anthropomorphic beast of nihilism
Kissing the devil's daughter
My raps are food for fodder and sauder
To grow the model of society run by hate and broken bottles
I don't coddle your misconceptions
Your life has no direction
Except a knife splitting your intestines
Internal infections lead me to beckon
My hate is not strong enough
I'll cut you in sections, leave you in pieces
My hatred denies Jesus
At the end of the day, your conception of reality should be aborted like a fetus
Death meets you with open eyes
Defeat you, beat you, and watch you cry
Contemplating suicide
The hatred of mind is something not easy to find
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 1:22 AM UTC
I’m the sickness,
the grotesque singularity that envelopes and gropes that sick nectar.
The sickly substance drains so subtle upon the cut edge of lips
and the pillar draw strings stitched and bound between cardiac flesh.
I’ll cleave,
cut and seethe,
suckle upon the sin I glower as I twine
and tug at those piano puppet strings caught in twain with every heart beat,
just trigger happy nerves spackled in misunderstood concept called love and impulse.
Pluck the collar cuff at your guttural sing and sentence,
those ballots fluttering from between pearl teeth,
I’m stealing those breathing gasps and loving longings;
they’re all just flecks and fragments of lackluster human baggage,
just mannequins treading sluggish,
fractured splinter frame and hinge fickle.
I’m the socio experiment,
the fiendish distaste of a chimera,
the zealous of corrupted cold hearted,
faux feeling skin wearing thing.
Just a copulation of electrical splatter and liquid tissue,
inorganic animal,
snapping jaw and glass shard fangs.
I’ll rile and reeve between the click and snap of your heart beat,
coddle the smoke of prey’s scent,
I’ll parasite the life blood that courses and holds beneath your emotional connect.
My cancer’s a slaughter fed consolation,
ever feasting malignant circumstance,
it rallies a thousand eyes,
irises blood thick,
fragments my moral conscience with teeth riddled limbs,
claws that chew and tear.
A multi-armed fiend,
segmented soulless and black tainted blood lost long ago,
all that remains ***** is the tissue wearing skeleton I claim domain,
fragmenting the soul into steel shards,
all’s just razor edge mechanical once the human feel falls to ash amongst the clutter of bone.
You’ll find the soulless circuit board in the gulf of your cancerous conscience,
as the human corrupts to cancer
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 7:50 AM UTC
none of the editors reside in my head
nor does a matrician's need to coddle
sidestep
be nice
when I see ****** I say that is
******
have no points in the bank for guile
for correctness
for matters are fact
attitudes solid concrete I can see
like windows on the Trump tower
just hiding ****
brevity usually my habit
and preference
but at times I get windy
flatulent
****** me off when, shew!! it happens alone
I love to share
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 2:30 AM UTC
Kirk was a flirt.
Bones could clone.
Scotty liked scotch.
Chekov goofed off.
Sulu, he flew.
Uhura went further.
Chapel would coddle.
But
SPOCK,
He
ROCKED.
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC
I am not here for your sunshine,
I am here for your storm and waiting on the rain.
I am not here to coddle you
Without at least touching the pain.
It's easy to love a happy, easy going, sunny morning,
But it takes guts to smile through someone's rage.
I will not tolerate dragging weight.
I will break your ******* cage.
The ankle on the chains.
How much longer will we hear the thunder
Before you finally just let it rain?
Rain on me and bring sweet inner alchemy.
Rain, rain, rain,
And be free.
May 31, 2022
May 31, 2022 at 6:33 AM UTC
you think you’re crazy
don’t worry,
god’s crazy,
god made the demons in his head ,
made beings to carry the monsters seething from his omnipotent,
gave you a brain beating to the chemical cocktail
blood and ****
pain and instinctive lust
gain to gorge,
you’re just the issues god takes his prescriptions for,
stop asking
pleading,
groping why,
clutch that 20,000 leagues deep self esteem
and cuddle the cockroaches slithering about your skull line,
cash the cracked aspirations
and scar barren flashbacks of childhood and fleeting “innocence”,
you’re of it
made for it
just another it in the frontal lobe of the big mans ****** ******
bludgeon the reasoning,
the self serving
“why me?”
“why this?”
“why good?”
“why evil”
why not just accept cause and effect,
things break,
things fix,
things die,
things live,
there’s no
westernized
white bread
european cast deity judging these play toys
on a singular ignorant perspective
known as “morals”
of which we as american christians know by birth
even though perspective’s just a shaped system
clay formed by surroundings and conditioning,
meaning is a lie we manifest to make living comfortable,
accept and live,
die and ascend,
be bliss
coddle the drug,
and take your place as gods little chemical embalance
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 3:42 AM UTC
Maybe if I unsheathed the buttons so lovingly,
slipped them from their beds like children doting under the breath of my fingers,
I could be free
unwrap these tendril sleeves
unknot and untie like braided shoe laces
child smile booming on my lips
maybe I could slither out and under this jacket of rigid strait edge,
maybe I could lick the clouds with my unclaimed hands
bathe in unrestraint,
Tug upon the chains of God’s grace
Burn these walls
and cut down the servants of white gowns and latex gloves
those thieves and miscreants,
Demons of pill born needles,
Strip down my skin and carcass
relinquish all of human trait
to bore over them as the demon they boldly create,
the ********* of razor bladed teeth,
Leather based restraint,
They so dutifully attempt to restrain me,
I’ll finger paint with their brain splatter,
just unstitch this jacket,
rouse the children from their sleeping,
unbutton them so verily gently,
Please mother unbind my wings,
coddle my wound,
Mother dearest might I finally go to you
Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 12:07 AM UTC
She dreams in
wild green vines
that coddle and comfort
until they choke.
Her beautiful intent
grows so wickedly and ends
brown, withered, and withdrawn—
rotted roots that no longer
hold promise.
Not even a silent one
for the sun that once
kept her alive.
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 10:41 AM UTC
I can't fry an egg, sunny side up
becomes nasty pulp
I'll try to do a roast
but you'll probably end up with beans and toast
I'll try to do a coddle
but it won't be a doddle
if you want cordon bleu
forget it, but I might attempt a stew
my dessert will probably fill you with mirth
you'd give it a wide berth
I mightn't be a good cook
but if you want a night filled with glee
come visit me
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 9:28 AM UTC