"constrictive" poems
Mind is a super computer they say.
It can think of millions of stuff in a matter of day.
From the bombings in Iraq,
to the hurt in my best friends heart.
From the moment its up,
It never stops,
To stop. Blink or breathe.
It keeps running at night.
The subconscious consumes power.
Often leaving the mind tired at the break of dawn.
When it meets people,
it reads the signs at many levels.
Subject of talk,
Body language.
Positivity of the vibes,
The way the person jives.
A handshake.
A wink.
A hug.
A swiftly made jug*
It notices everything.
In all this processing.
It accumulates a lot of clutter!
And the mind with all the confusing thoughts,
becomes like hot butter!
Sparks fly like an electronic of fire!
And it needs something to distract it.
What works best is a bit of exercise.
A bit of chattering,
Or writing it all out.
Some find solace in Games or Movies.
Why do they work?
Because they engage all senses,
And make the mind groovy.
Smoking and doping do great too.
But reducing the processors of our mind to grade two!
Hallucinating and dreaming 80% of it.
The mind thinks its being more productive that most of it.
But illusions destroy us further.
Making the mind believe it’s just another wonder.
Wonder though it is.
Using only 10% of it we create,
Science, History, Mystery,
But this wonder has a lot on bate.
If it goes in the wrong direction.
Even thinking too much is an addiction!
Original thoughts are like endorphins to the mind.
Making it jump and do cartwheels inside.
Stimulating discussions are named that way,
Because engaging in one makes us jumpy all day.
It satisfies the mind that,
I have done something constrictive besides,
Whiling my days in sorrow,
and waiting for the morrow.
Mind is like a baby that need attention,
if not given that it runs in all directions.
Mind is a super computer that needs,
the dedication of a programmer.
Be that programmer and feed your mind the right numbers,
And see it become the eighth wonder!
*Jug- short for juggle.
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
Arduous late Winter
woes amplify in February
false hope
We’re all sick
of constrictive clothes
and cold climes conducive to staying in
Cabin fever running rampant
45° t-shirts & sunglasses
everyone driving with their windows down
Hoping Vernal rituals
performed early will
hasten Spring’s arrival
I’m done
fed up
ready to move on
Going crazy in the cold
writhing to get moving unimpeded
by frigidness and snow
I’m ready for Spring
for Summer
for Fall
I’m ready for the scent
of thawing soil in the air
biking in the Sun, verdance, and flowers in bloom
I’m ready for grass between my toes
Fireflies, crickets, peepers
and warm night stars
I’m sick of frost reddened runny raw noses
sick of numb fingers and toes
and having precious few daylight hours
I’m sick of combatting glacial winds with layers,
of treacherous icy apathy,
and dreary bleak boredom
I’m sick of not being able to sit on the ground
sick of long pants, long socks, long sleeves,
and silent stagnant long nights
So, despite the fact
that I’ll pine for January
every day over 90°
Despite the fact
that when mosquitoes swarm
I’ll wish a frost would **** the little ********
and despite the fact
I’ll get just as fed up
with temperate seasons
I still want Spring
and then Summer
and then Fall
But February brings false hope
and despite the lengthening cheery sun
months still stand
between us and t-shirt weather
mild nights, grassy hills,
and emancipation from an inclement icebox atmosphere
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 8:50 AM UTC
I like all different kinds of music. As cliche as it sounds, it's true. I could never understand how people say that their favorite genre of music is just "rock" or plain "rap". Single syllables, especially when applied to musical preference, tend to make my muscles tighten up. It's just too constrictive for me. I like words/genres like "Alternative Jazz" or "Riot Grrrl". ******** Electro" and "Psychedelic/Soul". The words themselves just sound more appealing. Seriously, when will you ever hear the words "psychedelic" and "soul" in the same breath? Let alone the same connected phrase with a slash between them?
By far though, my favorite genre of music has to be "Dream Pop". I love the music. With all it's soothing, relaxing, hazy beats and lovely, distorted vocals but that isn't the real reason I call it my favorite. The reason I do is the words "Dream" and "Pop". The two words together bring about such vibrant imagery for me. Dreams, to me, mean a lot. I'll have a really exciting one and won't be able to shake the atmosphere of them for the entire day afterward. After a particularly scary one, I usually won't be able to get rid of that sense of doom and danger that always comes along with a horrifying nightmare. It's a bless and a curse but there's nothing like it. Especially for me.
And then there's the word "pop". Also a very image-inspiring word. You can pop a pimple. You can pop a bubble. You can eat an ice pop(sicle). You can say hello to your Pops. Pop, pop, pop. It's a very entertaining word. Short but sweet.
Put the two words together and you have one highly interesting phrase. "Dream Pop". It's so soothing and lovely. I really can't imagine a better combination of words.
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 12:55 AM UTC
i sit in a boat
and im so far from shore i have forgotten which direction the horizon follows me
i am so far from home the word sounds foreign and construed as an apology
i am so out of reach the seagulls will never dive deep enough
or swoop shallow and barely disturb the oceans sequence of tides and rhythms
to pick me up
i sit in a boat
the waves steady flow acts as a clock to keep me sane
it rocks me
it rocks my boat
back and forth in its tick tock motion
the fact that i haven't seen any fish glide by
and wrap themselves in the warmth of the crystals dancing on the top of the water
creates a feeling more violently lonely in the pit of my stomach
than the fact that i sit in a boat all alone
i sit in a boat
in the middle of the ocean
in the middle of nowhere
its easy to comprehend that there is nothing above me
the sky is a blank sheet of paper
the horizon falls all around me an encompasses me
looking up makes me lose time with the waves
its harder to comprehend the likelihood of nothing below me
when i fall in the water
and when i wave my arms towards the diamonds above me
when i blow air though my nose
and keep my eyes shut tight
when the water begins to get cold around my feet
towards my chest and on my shoulders
when the light green water that has comforted me like a mother
that has taught me like a father
the waves that have kept me in sane like a teacher
disintegrates into a dark murky black
so quickly i have no time to notice
where the pressure is too loud to hear any lessons
where the touch is so ice cold every hug feels like a constrictive hand around my throat
i sit in a boat
its easy to understand i am alone up above
no one calls dinnertime
no waves rock me to sleep
no birds call their mates
no bugs fall in and out of their reflections
its harder to fathom that
under the peak of the water
under the tired lazy strokes
i look intently and see nothing
i look intently and all i see is how
in an ocean that stretches forever
and falls off of the horizon
i was alone before i realized it
i was alone when the sun reached down
and bounced off of its blue playground
i was alone when it comforted me and i was alone when it choked me
all i have ever been
is completely alone
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 8:08 PM UTC
__I’m going to quit you,
like the bad habit you are.__
You’re a vice,
both constrictive
and a weakness.
_You’ve already wasted so much of my time._
__So I’m quitting you,
like the bad habit you are.
Cold turkey.__
Apr 21, 2025
Apr 21, 2025 at 1:12 PM UTC
She molds herself
a silver pen
Embedded with rubies
crystals and gems.
She pours her life
out on fragile pages,
unleashes her thoughts
from their constrictive cages
But one dark day,
the pages were found
Lampooned and humiliated,
she hit the ground
Along with her
fell her silver pen
the crystals now stained
with the darkest red.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 9:14 AM UTC
You make me feel like I'm collapsing in on myself
But in the really good way
I promise.
Your whispers weave their way down to my chest and wrap themselves around my lungs
Constrictive
Forcing all the air from them til I can't breath.
I don't want to.
You roll your eyes to heaven and laugh
While stars burst behind mine.
With every fond shake of your head my heart pulses 3 times quicker.
You've turned me into a hummingbird, a mouse,
I'm vibrating.
And I'm floating
The dead weight around my ankles evaporates when you sigh.
Soon enough I'll have to be tied down.
I'm a helium balloon filled with your giggles and off-key singing and 3am questions of "why are we here, monkey? what are we doing? do you think dogs understand us? what would happen if i put marshmallows in the microwave for 7 minutes?"
I'm expanding I'm inflating I'm going to burst.
I'd be happy to.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 6:28 AM UTC
I didn't know
That there was life outside those cramped walls
Of the hell I called my home
I stand here now
Where open sky surrounds me
And this freedom
Feels more constrictive
Than those walls ever did
I didn't know
That I wouldn't know how to stand
When I was no longer being forced
To kneel before the lie
That broke my heart
These beautiful spaces
Are too bright for my eyes
That only knew the dark
I didn't know
That the cruel lessons they taught me
And those I had to teach myself
Those things that helped me survive
Weren't going to help me live
Here on the other side
Of this"happy ending"
In a world I never thought was real
I didn't know
That there would come a time
When all of my pretending
Would have to come undone
All the wounds of battles past
Would have to be bled dry
Of the infections and lies
That never let me heal
I didn't know
That I would ever find
Someone to believe in
Who could peel away these lies
And hold me as I shake
With the fear I couldn't show
And the tears I couldn't cry
Please don't walk away
I didn't know
That when the battle passed
I would still be fighting
It's all I've ever known
Not knowing how to give up
How can I surrender now
I thought I'd run forever
But you speak to me of rest
I didn't know
That I was still human
Still allowed to feel
That anyone would ever want me
Or that I could be good enough
So speak the truth to me
But be patient
As I learn to believe it
I didn't know
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 12:24 PM UTC
my senses can only detect 14 billion light years out
a little depressing- thinking how old the universe is
and the morality of replacing religious views
might be morally deceptive where
our sight is limited and science tries to explain expansion
maybe our views need fantasy and Gods to limit
the raging decadence of society
perhaps we need fairy tales
we need to stop finding new Galaxies
and go back to the
more constrictive Golden Rule
so I try to suspend reason
and get Faithful
but the engines and physics
and my attitude
put up barriers
and it's a great Paradox
a large conundrum
I cannot figure
alone
God i wish for a God
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 1:27 AM UTC
i have learned to live despite your bitter soil.
i will thrive without your support,
as i always have.
i am hardy and i do not wilt when the
cold comes.
you will not **** me,
not with your herbicides and
your kind words.
you will not tame me,
with your great blades that
churn the earth.
i will bloom through your efforts to
**** your garden,
a stubborn marigold in your sea of tulips.
you will not take from me what you want.
come time for me to bear a snowy head,
i will travel on the winds,
away from your small,
constrictive garden.
you will never wish upon me again.
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 11:28 PM UTC