"constrains" poems
Without legitimate occupancy,
Adverse possession is the legal right
Of anyone who moves in and maintains
A property, so here's the deal. We must
Move in to 1600 Penn,
The current tenant having broke the lease.
The caravan from Guatemala first, Hondurans trudging slowly from the depth.
Then the Yemen children not yet murdered,
Those with preexisting conditions next,
And women whose assaults were ridiculed,
Those roughed up by cops and politicians.
Losers in the war on drugs, the big house
Having far exceeded capacity.
The mentally ill, discarded by the
Great communicator after he tore
The Solar panels off the roof. This is
Anger, not poetic license. When a
Long train of abuses and usurpations
Evinces a design to reduce them
Under absolute Despotism, it
Is their right, it is their duty to throw
Off such Government, and to provide new
Guards for their future security. Such
Has been the patient sufferance of these
And such is now the necessity which
Constrains them to alter their systems of
Government. And journalists under fire,
If there's room still left in the briefing room,
Let facts be submitted to a candid
World.
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 9:49 PM UTC
Why do we possess
Such an intrusive feeling
Which crawls in our veins?
Too many deeds it constrains.
It stares behind the wall
Like a vigilant, wakeful cat
Who has spot its unaware prey.
Suddenly it streams and stays,
Paralysing its cosy habitat.
The Fear has conquered you and mauled.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
Smile so haunting with devilish
or fiendish
or that of charming aesthetics,
the slender creature of a man
parched flesh of paper
would flick his eyes bright
and stir crazy as embers
about the stage,
his hair a mat of threads,
ancient and animalistic,
yet of thick wafting softness,
he appears so gentle,
so timid
child eyes brushed by his bangs
yet confident in that grin
cut so lightly across his face,
he would disarm your distrust,
carry you to his attractive gentleness
as he cloaks the stage about him
and then as the lights dim,
the audience edged on their seats,
your sheepish and sugar laced eyes
of curiosity linger at the heels of his lips,
as he slaughters your precious innocence,
with My words,
smile ever increasing
feasting on their fearful stares
my poem a muffled shotgun
at the back of the audiences head,
their tremoring bodies scream
as he constrains the straps constricting
their legs and limbs,
all the world’s a coroner’s table
he stoops so lovingly over them,
snow white raven of a boy,
his words of glinting blade dive,
their eyes a mess of soupy white and tangled red
surgical increments ripping their ribs and sternum wide,
they scream with blistered skin,
straps beginning to burrow and feast into their limbs,
the boy labors diligently,
effortlessly he worms his fingers about blood drenched organs
twists and plucks them free,
the victim’s body squirming,
skin wriggling,
as their eyes stare and gasp upon
their organs strewn next to them,
shock ripping through them,
crawling within their hollowed out body,
he laps up their gaping wound,
cut and carved from sternum to pelvis,
licking up blood soaked soul and kidney,
my demon of timid grin spills out the final phrases
his victims have long lost resilience,
they watch and lie as a mess of human,
half corpses on the table,
the audience a funeral procession,
the lights suffocated,
no one wishes to speak,
silence is the only reverie to my poems darkness
the boy or man,
demon or fiend
would softly grin
the audience just as cold and dead as him
Sep 22, 2011
Sep 22, 2011 at 12:59 AM UTC
Starless eyes
Ragged and forbidding
Teeth of tears
Flamed and striped for fear
The flesh is an illusion
Repugnant as it is revealed
Savage winds carry me away
Constrains me when I die
The curse of annihilation's
In circles I can't keep
A shroud that stifles the delicate truth
The departed in white discomposure
In pain I flee
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 11:40 PM UTC
The passage of the years
constrains possibility;
calendars squeeze life.
Now I know there are
poems I won't read again;
books I won't open again;
places I'll not visit again;
people I won't see again;
lips I'll never kiss again.
Age narrows time.
Passing sixty,
everywhere around me,
the sound of closing doors.
- mce
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 7:04 AM UTC
For auld lang syne and all it's bittersweet melodies
'I returned home
My pond of pure intent soiled with every day spent
Though the feeling of flight was strong,
'where should I hide?
The water?
This was once my home
Now it is but a chain that constrains
Sends legions of pain,
Against this fate I struggled
'Now all fought for is rubble
My heart too tired and hurt to keep
When will my tears cease?
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 4:59 PM UTC
My expectations take flight as we wonder through this once youthful and promising night. The only hope for a tomorrow comes with forbidden touch and a forbidden, connected sight. Longing for a quiet moment alone as your eyes slowly shift to meet mine. Connected hands pulling from considerable constrains as the clock gradually strikes nine. The world begins to slow as if to say there may not be another. Or rather there may not be another one worth your passion now uncovered. Resurrected from our past as our softened minds are kept in a hazy check. By wondering eyes, unreciprocated passions, and friendly arm around our neck. And though instants stole in the shadow of the masses bring forbidden thoughts to light. Kinship to another uncovers doubt with a strong, unrelenting might. Unremitting hesitation as we’re forced to balance our duty and what we know as true. To those we brought to conquer the night and to our passions we wish to pursue. And as our night moves towards dawn we watch the other move along, towards a night of least resistance. With once promising passion now unwillingly forgone, and the other lost to the distance. Slowly awakening to our regret as the other does the same. Wondering if the night was different could our lust have been ours to claim. Would our desire to move beyond our duties have been made with worth and good intent. With others consent and no argument for the decisions we now circumvent. So with our train of thought chasing an end to our sorrow filled silence we search for just one more glance. Only to find remorse and a white flag waving reluctantly at our lost chance. And as the metal doors close on our promising night we wonder could this have been real. As I steal one more glance with the turning of the wheels putting miles towards our past so surreal. Hoping only for fate to smile again and give our passions a chance once more. Of a night filled with desire, lust, and affection that our destiny wishes to restore.
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 8:15 PM UTC
There is a fear that beckons heavy shivers,
Summons enveloping shutters,
Brings cold cringes and endless, eternal tears
Constrains me in the Stygian night
Convulses my chest without the pinpoint ray of light
Physically it cannot harm me,
Just detain in cold dark
Though attacking the innocent, malicious—and holy
Never has it fossilized anyone such as I
To be tossed without trying,
To fail without attempting,
To submit without fighting,
To die without living—
My gravest, deadliest, most harrowing fear
Is that I die without any acts at all.
Without friends, hope, or even soul
Just debilitating terror...
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
Do you think she’ll witness my downfall
When she goes to hell?
Do you think she’ll feel the anguish of empathy?
Do you think she’ll find a way to introspect
Instead of projecting?
That would cause her suffering.
I won’t be grouped in with fools
Who discharge ressentiment
With dreams of those who’ve wronged them
Suffering more than they have...
But I know it must discharge somewhere.
What constrains me?
The stunted superego
Suffocates the id
Holds it down and kicks it;
A child beaten
Tells itself
It doesn’t want to hurt its family
Until the day it’s realized
That it can’t.
And then, its spirit broken
Lays dormant, a pressure cooker
Tells itself it doesn’t want to rise
To cope with having fallen.
It stays silent and still long after left
Alone.
Retreated so far into itself
That now it fails to recognize
The threat is gone –
The abuse goes on
Long beyond it’s ended.
She told me she loved my poetry,
That I inspired her to write
About her father.
I should have seen it coming then
It was no different from before -
I let myself be used again
I have no excuse.
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 10:29 PM UTC
A solitary light sparks
and it begins to consume
until it thins out
becoming a blur
Squeezing tentatively
at the sides
the shackles begin their work
to mould and straighten
The urge to break free
infests consciousness
and is equalled with the fear
of drowning in liberty
The time constrains
and the shackles become heavy
until the light lessens
into the comfort of darkness.
Mar 24, 2010
Mar 24, 2010 at 1:05 PM UTC
How do I breathe?
When the heavy weight of responsibility chokes out the option of freedom
When the beat of life holds feet to pavement
Forcing the whimsical mind to rigor, and rhetoric.
How do I see?
When visions are bred to infect an open mind with social, and ethical nonsense
When the constrains of organized religion impose will but not unity
The bitter taste of opposition between brothers.
Why do I listen?
When words are fickle and meaningless
When their emotions are as fake as the smile they hide behind
The subliminal meanings behind the edited thoughts and vocalizations of man.
How do I speak?
When my words are interpreted falsly before understood
When words are many and ideas copy cat,
Distorted meaningless mash up of everyday mundane life
How do I be myself?
When the individual is as overrated as the society it lives in
When judgement comes first, and forgiveness never lasts
Existing to walk a path laid by another man
The road less traveled is the same road that harbors the footprints of millions
The road becoming a generalized idea for happiness
No longer molded to the steps, length, and size of a mans shoe
Where is the individual?
What constitutes personality?
When we are a product of our situations
And the people who direct them
How do I breathe?
When my lungs are owned from inside the womb.
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 6:34 PM UTC
Poison
I am your Poison
Poison kills
It does it the best
Changes
Morphs
Constrains
Destroys
Kills
Deadly
I am your Poison
I am the weakness
I am the Problem
I am the Poison
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 7:42 PM UTC
Too many people are fearful, regarding
contact with The Divine; they realize
that they will be transformed by God,
but unrelentingly remain unwilling…
to make a commitment to His Kingdom.
Being identified as a Christian, grips
them with apprehension; the idea of
ridicule pierces their soul; wisdom
from God currently evades them, since
a deficiency of Faith constrains them;
with the presence of the Holy Spirit,
one is empowered to properly evince
God’s Truth for successful living.
We’re made to stand out; holy fire
within us illuminates God’s Love at
work in us with humble thanksgiving.
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 3:34 PM UTC
I have tried to give birth to a new and improved version of my vision
Exulting blips of exactitude and ambition
Flashes of pretension on a screen of pending dreams
Lacking mobility and projection
Inertia writhes
I'm mainly advertising trying to sell and intrigue
To those who have enough eloquence to persuade my predilection and schemes
Endorsing me providing lifelines and pure consciousness
Lacking the force of extorted themes and exulting worthiness
Cleansing my mind of the mocking bird's trash heap
Help me dissemble the falsified declarations and professions of fiends
I want to be pristine
I beg thee to teach and galvanize me
Endowing me with inexorable sight
Keeping me keen and full of bold might
I am willing to fight
Bring me to the surface of these turbulent seas
No need to mention my frailties and anxieties
All I ask is a breath from the surface of true realities
The urgency constrains my needs for rejuvenation and appreciations
For all those little beautiful things that once meant the world to me
Like pink carnations
Sleeplessness morphs into spells of insomnious hauntings
Stunting my contractions
It's completely and utterly exhausting
A labor deprived of true initiative and wanting
It may sound silly but everything is contradictory
It is these pains that leave me incomplete, ineffectual, and in paralyzing omission
Excluded and feeling great depths of oppression
Despairing and kept in solitary confinement
Suffering more than I'd like to profess
Distressing the matters that cave into my chest
An infiltration of insurmountable anguish
Abolished
Untouched by a shoulder or hand of accommodation
Is it selfish to push for this magnitude of isolation?
I crave cultivation
I want to grow into the Giant Sequoia
But the fires of self doubt leave my branches in ruins
Smoke signals sending sirens
A constant affliction
It's all my own doing
Contingency pleading for nourishment
Somehow knowing thee and ye could constitute for something of legends
Tell that to our reflections
Or maybe it's the fear of fire that terminates our pregnancy
Causing us to introvert instead of projecting
Withholding both you and I from mastery
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
“Blight into cold blue and obsidian water sky.
I await to graciously glance at sunset and smile,
I must renew my bones in dynasty of deity,
I have been feeling an awakening sensation,
I must still clear all my earthly levies,
As I sense awakening of a simmering rage,
The day that since has died a desperate light,
That light that must get stronger by the day,
Today is dead latency in the desolate land,
My heart welcomes you once again my love,
My season my woman my deity my immensity,
Every road leads to the door step of my heart,
For without thee I will roam with a hungry heart,
It is blunt to pause to make an end majestic creature,
Nefarious it was for suns to store and cache my will,
Skies black water befuddles me and constrains me,
Moving heaven and earth that which we were,
Made all the stars weak by time and fate,
Every ode will disperse and die as soon this will,
Ode to Blackwater”
By Andrew Guzaldo 09/20/2018 ©
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 5:43 PM UTC
When in the Course of events, it becomes
necessary for a people to dissolve the political
bands which have connected them with another,
and to assume among the powers of the earth
the separate and equal station to which the Laws
of Nature and of Nature's Powers entitle them;
[a decent respect to the opinions of mankind
requires that they should declare the causes
which impel them to the separation, _or not_]:
We hold these truths to be self-evident,
that all animals are created equal, that they
are endowed by their Creator with certain
unalienable Rights, that among these are Life,
Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness;
That to secure these rights, Governments
are instituted among Men, deriving their
just powers from the consent of the governed;
_That whenever any Form of Government
becomes destructive of these ends it is the
Right of the People to alter or to abolish it
and to institute a new Government_, laying
its foundation on such principles and organizing
its powers in such form as to them shall
seem most likely to effect their Safety
and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate
that Governments long established should not
be changed for light and transient causes; and
accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind
are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable,
than to right themselves by abolishing the forms
to which they are accustomed. But when a long train
of abuses and usurpations pursuing invariably the same
Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute
Despotism, _it is their right, it is their duty,
to throw off such Government_,
and to provide new Guards
for their future security.
Such has been the patient sufferance
of the American citizen;
and such is now the necessity
which constrains them
to alter their System of Government:
The history of the present government of the united States
is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having
in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny.
To prove this, let the Facts be submitted to a candid world:
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 11:15 AM UTC
*****
how would you like it
the bartender
sighs the lord’s name in vain
understood the slurred wittiness
wobble onto stool
****** over
joining the rest of the line
sweet
the sound
system jests that one song
about a breakup
puke on the sofa next to your carpet
it’s yellow
swayed hips
shoulders give way
diluted In and Out closed
turn over
moist
to the Devil’s dance floor
where a pretty ugly Frenchie took your wrist
foot strikes a patch of ice
popped cherry on a yellow wheel stop
get up dizzy
scrape on forearm
the impassionate spring fever
wrapped around neck
constrains body against
*****
hands stroked rock hard back
she asks if she could have a stick
reached into baggies
pulled out a yellow
she takes halo
you took halo
got into the convertible
a silent triumph when you insert your key
twist
---
by Aleksander Mielnikow (Alek the Poet)
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 5:49 PM UTC
An important message for Christ’s saints,
is to guard hearts from becoming downtrodden.
Attacks started immediately with Man’s creation,
knowing that Adam lost the first estate of Eden.
People must not lose sight of their Godly identity,
during this critical age of holy dispensation.
The Great Commission is still relevant today,
for bringing souls unto the revelation of Salvation.
Eternity is a serious subject that no one,
imbued with the Holy Spirit, should take lightly.
Avoid messages of subverted ideas about the Kingdom;
continue in a Truth-filled life… that shines brightly.
Your belief system demonstrates the way you think;
therefore, daily renew your mind with The Word.
The power of speech yields a degree of influence;
be sure to understand what you’ve learned and heard.
The love of Christ constrains us to spend time with Him;
we’re to repeatedly lift up our voices in prayer.
Cultivate your ongoing relationship with the Lord,
insuring to diligently remain… within His care.
Though we have not reached the fullness of time,
we must remain alert to avoid eternal damnation.
Allow the Holy Spirit to lovingly reveal Truth,
so you may embrace the Kingdom’s fullest dimensions.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Matt 28; Phil 2:1-11; Rom 1:16-20
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 12:22 PM UTC
Why can't I say what I want to say ? Why can't I dance in the middle of the day while I'm walking your way across the halls to get to class why can't I sing and sing and shout why is it not allowed . Why do I have to follow a certain guideline in a conversation why can't I just say random things why does it bother you so much when I'm odd when I'm being whatever I feel like doing or saying .. it doesn't hurt anyone .. I'm not doing anything bad .. god! It's so sad the constrains we put on each other trying to fit in .. why do I have to live life already knowing everything u might do! Why why why ? And why are u scared to love and care too much , I mean I know the heartbreak can do that but still you can care as much as u want instead of wasting most of your caring on trying not to be over caring trying not to over do it cause that's not how others do it ! Again others others why do u care why do we care why do we stare , when someone does something out of the ordinary . Sometimes I get it but putting people down for being who they are that I will never understand.
So ask yourself why not??
why the hell not do what you want when u wanted there are no standards for anything
Don't over think
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 5:34 PM UTC
An important message for Christ’s saints,
is to guard hearts from becoming downtrodden.
Attacks started immediately with Man’s creation,
knowing that Adam lost the first estate of Eden.
People must not lose sight of their Godly identity,
during this critical age of holy dispensation.
The Great Commission is still relevant today,
for bringing souls unto the revelation of Salvation.
Eternity is a serious subject that no one,
imbued with the Holy Spirit, should take lightly.
Avoid messages of subverted ideas about the Kingdom;
continue in a Truth-filled life… that shines brightly.
Your belief system demonstrates the way you think;
therefore, daily renew your mind with The Word.
The power of speech yields a degree of influence;
be sure to understand what you’ve learned and heard.
The love of Christ constrains us to spend time with Him;
we’re to repeatedly lift up our voices in prayer.
Cultivate your ongoing relationship with the Lord,
insuring to diligently remain… within His care.
Though we have not reached the fullness of time,
we must remain alert to avoid eternal damnation.
Allow the Holy Spirit to lovingly reveal Truth,
so you may embrace the Kingdom’s fullest dimensions.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Matt 28; Phil 2:1-11; Rom 1:16-20
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 10:14 AM UTC
Guarding the heart. For everything you do flows from it.
Looking forward, I will never look away. I can only move.
Correction is all I have. Wisdom is who I seek.
Your face is the greatest splendor there is.
Messiah, your eyes are upon me. Your love constrains me.
I may be distressed, but I am not fearful.
He is my fear, he is my only astonishment.
It's inevitable, I will always love you.
Woe is me if I did not have salvation. I am a person with impure lips.
I will plead with your face to the cries.
Stop trusting in mere humans, who have but a breath in their nostrils. Why hold them in esteem?
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
I’m from words
scattered on a page,
expelled from lips and flowing
from my fingers.
I’m from late nights
of heart-pounding stories,
my mother standing in the doorway
tapping her watch,
but I can’t stop, no
not until everything is resolved
and I can close my eyes to a welcoming darkness.
I’m from quiet nights
spent smudging ink on paper,
pouring my thoughts and frustrations
into the tight constrains
of a lined page.
I’m from hazelnut chocolate,
strong coffee, and suitcases.
I’m from warm hugs, happy tears,
“Ich liebe dich” murmured into shoulders.
I’m from airports and airplanes,
huddling under thin blue blankets,
counting down to when the wheels
will touch land again.
I’m from a language
where there is no “goodbye”—
only “until we see again.”
I’m from moments when
you feel as if you are infinite;
racing hearts, sweaty palms
and the type of laughter
that makes your eyes water
and your chest ache.
I’m from the heavy confessions
said only in the early hours of the morning
when laughter comes freely
and the darkness allows you
a sort of confidence
you’ve never even dreamed of.
I’m from times when near-strangers
become your second family.
Nervous laughter and butterflies,
orange juice at breakfast and
the muttered reassurances that
“yes we will be back by nine.”
Wet hair and listening through doors,
spending way too much for a scoop of gelato,
but most importantly,
I’m from moments
of careless freedom.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
Time is the capsule that closes around us
As you don't see the gap between
Both times each day that
The clock strikes twelve.
It is the restraint
To deny continuance of progress
And to steal our train of thought
To reverse the train's direction
Until we can turn it around again.
It is temptation of
The sleep we crave
And an attempt
To take away our temptation
Within what seems
Like a few seconds.
I can't track the time
When this capsule constrains my eyes
To the paper ahead of me
Just to tear it up overnight.
This pill is the distraction
To keep me from knowing
When to leave or when to find out
What to do with my life
When all I can ever do
Is learn to restart a day
That will not end.
I am a slave to the time that holds me here
And the only thing keeping me here is time.
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 11:35 PM UTC
Oh world! With you I sit
Slaves of what, time constrains
Oh world! With you I laugh
While magic happens life begins
Through dancing leaves and cheeky smile
As life itself shines in our eyes
The cost of pain lies lost in time
With beauty as its queen
While songs we sing warm up our heart
With the wind the sound of my tears gather
Through time each drop resound
Building memories imposed by choices, life ejects.
Stuck between the wants and have
Time itself strangles the freedom we thought we had!
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 1:02 AM UTC