"contradicted" poems
You breathed gin.
This is blood for you.
Your hands held your hair and your eyes shut.
The alcohol lulled your brain to black.
It escaped your veins,
Diluted by 37.5% truth serum.
Gasping at the
Divine realisation
Where slurred lips
Contradicted
Your once straight-faced,
Certainly-certain speakings
Of your very crooked lie.
So crooked, it wound his heart around yours.
But that ball of yarn unravelled in an instant.
And the jumper you knit together,
Came apart
Stitch by stitch.
In my fogged memory,
I had choked myself that night
With a bottle and a ball of yarn.
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 12:16 AM UTC
“I want!”
Begged my heart,
As it strained against its chain,
My brain screamed
“You shunt!
“I won’t let you hurt again.”
My heart cried,
“Why not?”
And “Where is your pride?”
My brain mocked.
“You’re built to bleed, and not to think.”
My brain convicted,
“Like you where built to lead, but not to link.”
My heart contradicted.
“Love is for fools and fools alone.”
My brain predicted.
“Well then a fool I am for love of fond I’ve grown.”
My heart conflicted.
“You are nothing without me.”
My brain told,
“I beat without you, as you can see.”
My heart said growing bold,
There was a silence,
Between the muscle and the head,
My heart needed guidance,
And without my heart my brain would be dead.
“You know I wish to protect you.”
My brain whispered now,
“But I must reject what you do.”
My brains authority my heart could not allow,
“I am not so callous that I do not care at all.”
My brain explained,
“I understand that on my decisions it’s your function to implore.”
My heart disdained.
“So you can see now why I hold you back?”
My brain feebly asked,
“You are the reason freedom to love I lack!”
My heart finally did at the notion grasp.
Contemplative silence filled the air,
Until my brain did declare,
“If that’s what you want, then go now and don’t dare cry,
But don’t come back bleeding and broken,
And say I did not try”
And so my Brain had spoken.
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 6:07 AM UTC
Dorsovertical is what my head is in,
contradicted to each other like
the ocean between us
But you cheer me up
being the beautiful soul
you are.
I dont see how the the
rainstorms in the New World are,
but i sure know if its
your eyes that see it, then
its all beautiful
We went walking in the rain, the sun
grass, mud and gravel rocks and sometimes
pavements
But in that fog of the morning here
and that of the mid day there
We're lost to be found everyday
im glad we still talk
I know you dont like to be written about
by me, at least
please know though that i need
you to stay, so slowly the
melancholy of the day disappears
I need you to stay, in my words
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC
i couldn't stop looking at this girl. i glanced down at my black leather jacket, black v-neck, ripped blue jeans, and black boots with the buckles on the side. i popped my collar and set out to find the girl i'd just found. i noticed the lights of this weird indie club i'd somehow ended up in. this music isn't normal "club" music. it's all arctic monkeys. the lyrics of these songs empowered me, i felt as though i had to continue my search for this soul. despite the darkness, i slid on my aviators to protect myself from those blinding lights, and also to give me a hint of mysteriousness. girls love that.
and then there she was.
sipping on what appeared to be a bottle of coke, but i couldn't tell because of the ******* sunglasses i was wearing. she was standing laughing with one of her friends. she had such a different aura to her. i couldn't help but watch as she pulled out one of her organic cigarettes.
"i wanna make her mine." i thought to myself.
the lights reflected off the sweat on the walls as i tried to keep my cool, strutting my way over to her, hoping to get her eyes to lock onto mine. from what i finally saw of her in plain sight, she had love in her eyes and perfect lighting over her; like a camera plus filter. she took drags of that cigarette like some kind of goddess, causing me to get weak at the knees and form a lump in my throat, which i soon managed to somehow swallow. i had to find out who she was. i wanted her more than i'd ever wanted anything, or at least so i recall. i played out the scene in my head - we'd dance, and numerous guys would approach her. it was hard not to. i'd overpower them. "she's with me.", i'd say cooly.
i didn't realize all this fantasizing about my mystery girl had taken me so little time, because by the time i was finished my train of thought, i was standing right in front of her. god, i wanted her so bad. i swear, if i looked at her long enough, she'd steal my soul. the love in her eyes was contradicted by the incredibly **** sparkle in her iris.
"hello there beautiful. you seem to be having a lovely time. you're absolutely breathtaking, i'm forced to believe you are a certified mind blower. what's your name, milady?"
with a turn of her head, a bat of her lashes, and a flash of her perfect smile, she answered me in the most angelic voice i've ever heard.
"arabella."
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
**Unprecedented poetry,
newfangled conception in
idiosyncratic transparency
perceived by the hierarchy
to be the garb of peons,
thine command accepts nothing
less than the likes of sonnets
penned deliberately archaic
in Old English tradition,
figurative language
of the huddled masses
is strictly forbidden,
contradicted,
ostracized,
anesthetized
and possible grounds
for poetic eradication**
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 8:06 AM UTC
*I see, your words are quite clear.
You speak the truth, and I shouldn't disagree.
I'm oblivious to these facts of yours, they're also proven too.
I can understand it's completely unbiased, and definitely not make believe.*
"But...." The word of choice, for all the biased, make believe, oblivious, disapproving, contradicted, crystal clear, pain in the **** perfectionist know it all.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
Conflicted, conflicted
My mind so encrypted
There is no escape, my memories inflicted
Pouring through thoughts as my emotions drifted
Searching for absolution, through sands of sorrow I've sifted
Conflicted, conflicted
My spirit isn't lifted
Entombed from mistakes wondering what I did
Errors and consequences and a farewell I do bid
Conflicted, conflicted
Thoughts and emotions contradicted
Standing here hollowed, my heart evicted
Still is the world, not much to be gifted
Error, error
Fear and terror
Time to shut down or be lost all over
Again and again with my soul torn asunder
Error, error
Shut down or be caught by despair
To late, it's here, it caught me unaware
The damage is absolute with no way to repair
Error, error
It will never be better
Not a shred of care
Caught in Medusa's stare
Begin rebooting sequence
Letting shutdown commence
Countdown has begun
Five, four, three, two, one
Nothing but darkness
Soul as a black screen filled with emptiness
Clearing all of my thoughts, my whole head
If I didn't reboot, I'd be as good as dead
Startup commence
Beginning with mental defense
Fortification complete
Open emotional files, hit delete
Blank canvas and nothing more
An empty shell of what I was before
It will happen again and again
It will stop, but nobody knows when
I am a blank slate but in the depths of my mind
Are the thoughts and feelings I wish I could leave behind
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
i am a woman who hasn't gotten over her girlhood strifes. i am alive in conflict & chaos; when storms still i tremble. i struggle with questions of my own importance. if i am your leaning post, why do i feel so alone? i am one ocean with many seas, rivers, harbours & waterfalls - each with their own names. i am not of this realm, yet my father calls me worldly. i struggle with questions of my own identity. if everyone sees me as one solid being, why do i feel so broken? i am a lover of opposites, of balanced scales, of reflections: black & white, girls & boys, sea & sky, everything & nothing, always & never. the sometimes, the somewhat, the earth, transvestites, grey zones: they don't sit well with me. & yet i am spokesperson for the exceptions (i before e, except after c. using drugs to have *** with people is assault, except for ****** i only like to write with black pens, except when I want to use a pencil. i only drink black coffee, except when I crave a double-double. i only **** girls, except when i need a **** each girl has her own firm resolve, that is contradicted with another's opinions: my whole existence is self-hypocrisy. i struggle with questions of conflicts in my own interest. if i am decided, why do i peer with longing at the other options? i am a planner, an organizer, a sorter: i put my problems in piles. i am erratic, scatterbrained & impulsive. i use my abilities to try to outsmart my destructive tendencies; to try & balance the scales. my flighty adventures often win over my obsessive habits. i struggle with questions of my own intent. if i am scared of commitment, why do i keep promising?
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC
Which is better, a clock that is right only once a year, or a clock that is right twice every day?
"The latter," you reply, "unquestionably." Very good, now attend.
I have two clocks: one doesn't go at all, and the other loses a minute a day: which would you prefer? "The losing one," you answer, "without a doubt."
Now observe: the one which loses a minute a day has to lose twelve hours, or seven hundred and twenty minutes before it is right again, consequently it is only right once in two years, whereas the other is evidently right as often as the time it points to comes round, which happens twice a day.
So you've contradicted yourself once.
"Ah, but," you say, "what's the use of its being right twice a day, if I ca'n't tell when the time comes?"
Why, suppose the clock points to eight o'clock, don't you see that the clock is right at eight o'clock? Consequently, when eight o'clock comes round your clock is right.
"Yes, I see that," you reply.
Very good, then you've contradicted yourself twice: now get out of the difficulty as best you can, and don't contradict yourself again if you can help it.
You might go on to ask, "How am I to know when eight o'clock does come? My clock will not tell me." Be patient: you know that when eight o'clock comes your clock is right, very good; then your rule is this: keep your eye fixed on your clock, and the very moment it is right it will be eight o'clock.
"But--," you say.
There, that'll do; the more you argue the further you get from the point, so it will be as well to stop.
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 5:47 AM UTC
Contradicted
Don't live today thinking tomorrow will come
Don't live today thinking a change will come
Don't live today fretting for tomorrow
Don't live today expecting joy in the morning
Don't live today expecting sorrow in the morning
Don't live today thinking I'll be here tomorrow
Don't live today thinking I won't be here tomorrow
Contradicted
Corroboration
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC
Our forward motion is only
Contradicted by the backward
Thoughts that trip us over on the
Journey of what should be strides.
But we must learn to face the
Deductions that minus every
Second motion. Limiting us to normality.
Where born to be more.
So never let ourselves be
Testament to others regression.
We will always step beyond the safety
of ourselves and fall like petals.
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 9:07 PM UTC
If all were created,
before a finger lifted,
all'd be done...
Before a single word be said,
Every creeping crawling thing'd be dead.
No speaking laws, or slaughtered alters,
Or sacrificing ****** daughters.
No ill lessons, of omnipotence,
Omnipresence or deviance,
The vastness of life and time,
Are much too large, to be defined,
By one who's greatness greater than all,
To know we're here, or rule at all,
It's too far fetched to believe it's true,
There's one above, all around, watching you.
And say a god of sorts is real,
Say christ is god what would you feel,
To know his book is spoken true,
To be applied in all you do,
Word for word and verse by verse,
Forever there to be rehersed,
With jealousy and angry might,
His reasons are, beyond our sight,
His omnipotence we can't define,
His intelegence, beyond our mind,
****** **** and slavery,
plagues and death, so hard to see,
The fact he made this all for us,
From each bright star, and nucleus,
just to cast us in a pit,
A fiery hell, a suffrage.
None of it, It makes no sense,
And think most don't believe in chance.
Now close your eyes, and just believe,
Blindly follow each page you read,
For faith is something you must have,
To not see past this broken path,
Of lies and hopes in false intent,
It's god who man came to invent.
Here's a law he wrote himself,
One of ten, to show us help,
And thou shalt worship one alone,
But now there's christ who claims his thrown.
A contradiction from the start,
O how this truth broke my poor heart,
He created all in just six days,
A sabbath rest I'm so amazed.
A day to gods a thousand years,
So look at this, And shed no tears,
He made us in all knowing ways,
But so confused within just days,
He changed his mind, his laws and story,
Then sent one down to claim his glory,
Then Lucifer, what was the point,
His purity, god did anoint,
Then jealousy and pride bestode,
But then again god had forebode,
Let alone freewill was not,
An angel had no choice to taunt,
Made to fill specific needs,
The devil had no other deeds,
God knows all, from start to end,
So if he's real, he's not a friend,
He doesn't love, or know all,
Or have salvation, when we fall.
A deity he is not,
Especially with how he taught.
There're better ways to plan a path,
Simplicity is easy math,
But who am I, I'm just a man,
Created by his clumsy hand.
Sep 14, 2011
Sep 14, 2011 at 6:23 PM UTC
A hundred, a thousand to one; even so;
Not a hope in the world remained:
The swarming, howling wretches below
Gained and gained and gained.
Skene looked at his pale young wife:--
"Is the time come?"--"The time is come!"--
Young, strong, and so full of life:
The agony struck them dumb.
Close his arm about her now,
Close her cheek to his,
Close the pistol to her brow--
God forgive them this!
"Will it hurt much?"--"No, mine own:
I wish I could bear the pang for both."
"I wish I could bear the pang alone:
Courage, dear, I am not loth."
Kiss and kiss: "It is not pain
Thus to kiss and die.
One kiss more."--"And yet one again."--
"Good by."--"Good by."
Note.--I retain this little poem, not as historically
accurate, but as written and published before I heard the
supposed facts of its first verse contradicted.
2k
My friends all think I'm crazy because I stand in the middle of the street and talk to a God that doesn't exist while high-fiving the windshields of passing school buses. I stopped taking my medication again because guilt taste a lot better than artificial happiness, and I stopped wearing that cross you bought me for my eight birthday because it contradicted the sense of uselessness I received for my twelfth. Life seems a lot less precious when you're talking to your parents in the TV room of a psychiatric unit and look them in the eyes while they tell me not to cry and say that 'pain is only temporary'. All I do is write letters to a man on the moon about the time I realized how hard and easy it is to die. Send me to therapy and make me take pills. I'll smile, but I'll always remember how to tie a noose
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 4:09 PM UTC
Hands open, fingers spread
revealing your palms - your history,
As the deep grooves tracing your past
seep into the rivers of your future.
Your gentle grip contradicted
By those coarse fingertips,
They are yours to have, but mine to hold.
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 1:25 PM UTC
A man with great power, a man with two faces
Who appeared focused, but his heart lied in different places
A man with charisma, a man with two minds
Who tried to guide us, but his contradicted loyalty binds
He wanted to better all of us
But the true rulers gained his trust
His intentions were good, but now he's drunk on deception
Which caused him to spread to us the misconception
That he shepherds us towards the light
But as we follow, the light did not glow bright
At this point it was too late
We face our inevitable fate
Too many of us were surprised
To be lead to our demise
But for a very select few
As we strayed away, the light grew
But does the light warm you when you watch all the others meet their doom?
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
you gave me love just to take it away
you gave me life so that i may die
and you gave me a heart just so i could be heartless
the life i have lived is not worth living
and it is so that i have died
but in death is rebirth
and in rebirth is death
every opposite has an attraction that governs its repulsion
and it is so i contradicted myself
when i had loved you were only my dark
because i thought inside you i could find a light
and even when i found it
i became lost in my conviction
devil and god
demon and angel
what is the difference but power
one to reign oblivion over life
one to comfort those in death
but in this world
can you tell who is who?
you gave me love just so i could feel it
you gave me life just to be numb
i loved all those that scorn me
as all those who scorn me are me
and i them
what is life beyond life
and what is death beyond death
as god so loved the devil
that he saw his own evil as good
and cast him unto himself
what is the devil but god
and what is the god but devil
these demons my guardian angels i feel found
why must i exist to exist i wish not to be
but that is why i am
we are made to go against and rebel against
but that is why we are made to subserve
Apr 28, 2021
Apr 28, 2021 at 8:33 PM UTC
It's not an issue of ordinary old head-bashed-off-the-dash hookery.
It's something more.
Not like the something before.
It can be answered lysergically,
I swear it,
I've seen it and I've been one with two and every other number so I swear I must've been it.
It was so cold, the learning.
Colder than the yearning.
Knowing nothing's what it seems yet it is everything at once.
And I cannot be contradicted because my evidence is infinite.
If you'd just take the time to sit and spit silence for a split second, you'd know.
Part of listening is thinking of a response.
And you might not stand on corners like the forlorn father mourners but you too are just a ***** for lonely men.
Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 3:34 PM UTC
It is hard to strive,
In a relationship where I have no say,
It’s hard to keep this love alive,
As you make it each day harder to stay,
We argue day and night,
I can’t take anymore pressure,
Brought on by your ambition to be right,
Because you are afraid to be the man that’s lesser,
If you where to believe the sky pink,
And I contradicted it was blue,
To every possible level you would sink,
Until I agreed that your theory is true,
Is that really worth more to you than us?
I cowering to every opinion you preach,
We cannot even a simple idea discuss,
Before you wish me to my ideas beseech,
Why cant you just be wrong for once?
But no its impossible for Mr. Always Right,
We don’t stand a chance,
As every little thing causes us to fight,
We argue and bicker,
Of it all I grow sicker and sicker,
For once admit your wrong and have some might,
But no its impossible for Mr Right,
I can’t anymore,
So Mr. Right I hope you’re glad you finally won,
With this last debate I am walking out this door,
With you Mr. Right I am done,
So Mr. Right you where right for one thing,
I was stupid and neurotic,
To stick around and to a narcissist cling,
So I hope you’re happy lost me over something idiotic.
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 6:15 AM UTC
Foggy glass, disoriented lens
Distant lights, feelings beacon the whirlwind within
Touch, pass, patch up leaky feelings of the past
Smile and laugh what a perfect cover that goes up fast
Feel passionately? Dear god, watch faces become aghast
Shun, make fun, outcast those who express emotions
Oh no, fall in step with typical motions
"Be yourself," they say, "We prefer you that way."
Utter ******** they feed you with, they don't want the real you
They want a smooth perfected version which surely isn't true
Contradicted, inflicted lies, don't fall in it's a vortex of demise
Mindless behavior we all evoke, based off one hell of a joke.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
He talked like a ******
Walked like one.
Loudly assisting tourists in the
Line outside the bus.
My luck seated him in
Front of me. I answered
Evasively. Mentally begging
Shut up. Shut up.
I was tired.
I was hungry.
"Would you like a piece of pizza?"
He handed me a sealed
Bag. This close
His eyes contradicted his person.
Sober. Friendly. He smelled
Of aftershave and
Society.
"I shouldn't eat this, I'm working
With a Yoga project
To help addicts recover
Through meditation.
Should stay healthy. Been clean
For three years, though I
Know it doesn't seem like it.
I just love to talk to people."
I ate his pizza. We spoke.
Squinted in laughter.
He *cried like a girl when
He saw Avatar*, he confessed.
"My sons still take the p...
Outta me for that.
I'm so glad they'll never
Have to go through
What I did. I'll
Make sure of
That for
Sure, for
Sure."
I usually write poetry
On the bus.
This Friday afternoon
I lived it.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 2:23 PM UTC
*Blessed are the weird people...
Poets, Artists, Writers, Misfits.
For they teach us to see
the world through different eyes.*
**Devoted living,
Contradicted goals are just the things we despise.
For we grow in contrast to your limited sky.
We live to be free
An avian species yet to fly.**
*Understand that your soul
isn't bound by a
three-dimensional
earthly existence.
She who is brave is free.*
**We yearn for the sky
Hope for the light
Treasuring the summer breeze
Escaping the cold winter nights
Trapped in our diversity
Everlasting battles of creative adversity
In times of logic
Rhymes and rhythms seems Shakespearian, somewhat nostalgic.**
*We are the drifters,
& dancers, the sun worshippers
& risk takers. The dreamers,
the lovers, the believers
& change makers.*
**We are the offspring of Creativity
The red-headed step child of derivative.
Conveyors of empathy.
And without us nothing would exist
We are the golden child of heavens bliss.**
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 11:57 PM UTC