Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
kenye Sep 2013
Recently,
There's been a dark cloud
Hovering over me
My mind's been provoking thunderstorms
In hopes it'll wash away the pain
Or whatever "woe is me"
That's been up with me

Recently,
It's just been dark 
I'm on edge about the future 
But I'm still deadset on the past
And mistakes that I am not anymore
All the things I was 
All the things I left behind
Came back as ghosts 
Storming my temple

As
I'm
Sitting
In 
A
Room
Alone

Appealing to my own emotions
In an ad hominem argument 
Versus my self
Or so it always goes
Me inciting thunderstorms
Before I ***** out the light
Speen Cough Aug 2015
I was at the store today and I saw a bouquet of sunflowers
and I just sat and stared at them
Holding back the tears so people wouldn't see
and just thinking to myself, what the heck is wrong with me

I convince myself I'm over you
I'm deadset on it
and then something small comes along
flowers, the songs I sang, a picture
and I realize I'm so far from over you

I want to be done
I'm done with the pain
The constant reminder that I ******* up
and yet
I don't

because it also reminds me of the happiest times of my life
the time I spent with you
talking
listening
Those were some of the best times
I felt human
I felt

I kinda just go through life now
and it's ok I guess
but it's just not the same
It's boring and dull
The same thing day after day

I'm sorry.
I know you don't want to hear this
but I just need to get it out
cause if I don't then it just builds up more and I end up worse than before
and we'll probably just get farther apart again
which is probably for the best I guess

So yeah
When you read this. just know that I'm still sorry. and I always will be.
TheWitheredSoul Jul 2019
The day you decided to cede me.
My mind became
deadset on hating you
but
My heart ,oh that da×n thing just sacrificed my mind because it thought
so
to hate you.
You can never find a logic of why you fall for someone you will never find a rational understanding of love. its just a mere collection of innate non understandable superficial stuff that cannot be reasoned with
but for some unknown reason
more tired than usual...,
without daily twenty four hours
proper rest, I feel haggard.

I strongly suspect (a hunch acquired
upon returning home
after visiting Notre Dame)
deep sleep interruptions...
attributed to uncontrollable need:
tap a kidney, micturate, spend a penny
(thee last mentioned British, informal)...
quite displeasing... yea urinate kidding.

Methinks perhaps to purchase adult diapers
(or fashion/repurpose water absorbent material)
in an effort to stave off awakening groggily
after experiencing an awesome dream, cuz
REM (rapid eye movement cycle) interference

courtesy natural function versus external
noise, which when slumbering both equally
affect bringing about onset of fatigue,
yet herewith yours truly intent to hone in
on former.

Meanwhile, he hoops to entertain thee dear
anonymous reader with the following poem
posthumously dashed off while falsely
believing himself to transition into afterlife

So sit back and kick up dem heels
without falling on yar crown
and/or bare stocking feet
and/or if ye prefer by all means lie down
attempting moost impossible mission

to flip (i.e. reverse) any lurking frown
other than standing on head whereby gown
and/or other stitch of clothing (casual wear)
preparatory to embarking on scheduled hoedown,
perchance participating among other groupies

(a gratefully deadset of fervent beastie boys
and goo goo dolls) join fracas intown
where martial law heightened surveillance
police able, ready and willing with Billy clubs
to crack then scramble noggins, and knockdown

civilly disobedient citizens in dire straits
politely courtesy coronavirus
(COVID-19) lockdown,
which heavily truncated livingsocial options
inextricably linkedin with societal meltdown

psychological fallout endemic among Caucasian
or hue men/women talking heads of natural nutbrown
persuasion, which madding crowd (think Woodstock)
where little upstate New York town
of Bethel hmm became quickly overgrown

with peaceable folks across gamut
regarding age, nationality, race, religion...,
rendered superfluous strong arm of law to putdown
and/or quell any anarchistic uprising
(perhaps even top brass
military industrial complex)

incognito as... beetle browed brothers
of some contraband slated to perform
and eventually gain world wide webbed renown
donating their unexpected proceeds
to upgrade and gentrify

one after another shantytown
even boosting fame and (mis)fortune
of Matthew Scott Harris
at long last, he could relocate
out his tumbledown abode to parts unknown.
Above title attests
how mine mundane mein kampf
insync as a veritable clogged drain oh:
flush with adventure overflowing excrement
er... rather excitement.

Apt aforementioned accurate personal description
believe me not, but urination
and defecation née emergency evacuation,
where majority of human league
smell bound with fascination
triggered (reasonably rhyming) inspiration
culmination of requisite time
sitting atop porcelain goddess
devoid of hesitation and trepidation
herewith follows mine poetic ululation
hoop fully invites veneration.

Poetic embellishment doth belie
ever since garden variety generic guy
long since experienced being little boy
mean kids constantly teased and bullied me
on account yours truly being small fry
barely invisible to naked eye
bullied (most my entire boyhood)
as scapegoat, I did decry
pleading lame feeble alibi,

especially when tawny punk
named Phil (actually a groundhog)
threw suckerpunch witnessing,
yours truly feigned falling
upon wounded knobby knee
to avoid me countenance being pummeled
courtesy knuckle sandwich
they threatened to apply.

One puny socially verily withdrawn lad
no surprise experienced suicidal ideation
throughout public school even as undergrad
never wagon figurative tail when fired
from one after another workstation.

Hence metaphorically hermetically sealed self
against incessant beastie boys squirreled away
amidst imaginative escapes courtesy bookshelf
isolates myself, viz remaining figuratively at bay
interestingly enough petrified livingsocial whereby
flesh and bone closely resembled hardened clay

hashtagged Matthew Scott Harris as pipsqueak
deadset to halt physical maturation without delay
anorexia nervosa (modus operandi) did buzzfeed
starved and emaciated lovely bones as main entree
unbeknownst then, but clear as a bell now
emotional state of parents unspooled and didst fray
father and mother aghast their pallor went ashen gray

grim reaper wielding large scythe intimating hooray
approximately half dozen years later
both parents relentlessly vilified verbally hammered
and especially didst inveigh
against their sole singular son
born thirteenth of January
hooded think those folks
who begot me more cruel fate
then being lynched courtesy triple "K."

Gambone builders bought property razed demesne
to escape vitriolic wrath atop roof at Glen Elm, I lay
nevertheless indelible memories emotional reprieve
spiritual succor delivered upon many a bygone May
when heat radiating off shingles served newgateway
passing time and wishing myself far as Norway
adopting role of bachelor farmer,
or even time traveling
back Catskills circa Borscht Belt,
also known as Jewish Alps oy vey.

Yours truly risk averse
which characteristic,
I declare constitutes curse
thus isolation found me sprawled out
upon wuthering heights
against regular diet of diatribes
delivered carte blanche
with expletive filled verse
toward solitary son ill fate
receiving nasty brutal abuse
considered dying far less worse.

Precious minutes and hours atop
seven gabled hideaway blithely did elapse
me gingerly scuttling out attic window
though agoraphobic and loathe to drop
distance and no longer courting death
no matter concluding life (during
early/mid twenties) total flop
merely wishing raging machinations
against male offspring would stop.

Hurtful words yelled after papa
guzzled bottles of vermouth
(not really, I admittedly prevaricate)
courtesy late father and mother
resoundingly, severely, terrifyingly,
wickedly, violently uncouth
subjected imbalanced earthling
(yours truly - me)
think venomous metaphorical
****** blackened barbs,
viz inconveniently grossly, egregiously

one after another hurtful
figurative daggers antithesis of truth,
albeit synopsis regarding
second born (middle child - sole son)
begat courtesy Harriet and Boyce
upon their psychologically harried
flesh out the womb of young mother
(both parents now long since deceased)
now said heir long in the tooth
wordsmith here wonders why forsooth
he tolerated torturous abuse.
Above title attests how mine mundane mein kampf
insync as a veritable clogged drain oh:
flush with adventure overflowing excrement
er... rather excitement.

Apt aforementioned accurate personal description
believe me not, but urination
and defecation née emergency evacuation
triggered (reasonably rhyming) inspiration
culmination of requisite time
sitting atop porcelain goddess
devoid of hesitation and trepidation
herewith follows mine poetic ululation
hoop fully invites veneration .

Ever since garden variety generic guy
long since experienced being little boy
mean kids constantly teased and bullied me
on account yours truly being small fry
barely invisible to naked eye
bullied (most my entire boyhood)
as scapegoat, I did decry
pleading lame feeble alibi,

especially when punks
threw suckerpunch witnessing,
yours truly feigned falling
upon wounded knobby knee
to avoid me countenance being pummeled
courtesy knuckle sandwich
they threatened to apply.

One puny socially verily withdrawn lad
no surprise experienced suicidal ideation
throughout public school even as undergrad
never wagon figurative tail when fired
from one after another workstation.

Hence metaphorically hermetically sealed self
against incessant beastie boys squirreled away
amidst imaginative escapes courtesy bookshelf
isolates myself, viz remaining figuratively at bay
interestingly enough petrified livingsocial whereby
flesh and bone closely resembled hardened clay

hashtagged Matthew Scott Harris as pipsqueak
deadset to halt physical maturation without delay
anorexia nervosa (modus operandi) did buzzfeed
starved and emaciated lovely bones as main entree
unbeknownst then, but clear as a bell now
emotional state of parents unspooled and didst fray
father and mother aghast their pallor went ashen gray

grim reaper wielding large scythe intimating hooray
approximately half dozen years later
both parents relentlessly vilified verbally hammered
and especially didst inveigh
against their sole singular son
born thirteenth of January
hooded think those folks
who begot me more cruel fate
then being lynched courtesy triple "K."

Gambone builders bought property razed demesne
to escape vitriolic wrath atop roof at Glen Elm, I lay
nevertheless indelible memories emotional reprieve
spiritual succor delivered upon many a bygone May
when heat radiating off shingles served newgateway
passing time and wishing myself far as Norway
or even time traveling
back Catskills circa Borscht Belt,
also known as Jewish Alps oy vey.

Yours truly risk averse
which characteristic,
I declare constitutes curse
thus isolation found me sprawled out
upon wuthering heights
against regular diet of diatribes
delivered carte blanche
with expletive filled verse
toward solitary son ill fate
receiving nasty brutal abuse
considered dying far less worse.

Precious minutes and hours atop
seven gabled hideaway blithely did elapse
me gingerly scuttling out attic window
though agoraphobic and loathe to drop
distance and no longer courting death
no matter concluding life (during
early/mid twenties) total flop
merely wishing rage against
male offspring would stop.

Hurtful words yelled after papa
guzzled bottles of vermouth
(not really, I admittedly prevaricate)
courtesy late father and mother
resoundingly, severely, terrifyingly,
wickedly, violently uncouth
subjected imbalanced earthling
(yours truly - me)
think venomous metaphorical
****** blackened barbs,
viz inconveniently grossly, egregiously

one after another hurtful
figurative daggers antithesis of truth,
albeit synopsis regarding
second born (middle child - sole son)
begat courtesy Harriet and Boyce
upon their psychologically harried
flesh out the womb of young mother
(both parents now long since deceased)
now said heir long in the tooth
wordsmith here wonders why forsooth
he tolerated torturous abuse.
Above title attests how mine
mundane mein kampf
flush with adventure overflowing excitement.

Apt aforementioned accurate personal description
culmination of decades worth
hesitation and trepidation.

Ever since garden variety generic guy
long since experienced being little boy
mean kids constantly teased and bullied me
on account yours truly being small fry.

One puny socially verily withdrawn lad
no surprise experienced suicidal ideation
throughout public school even as undergrad
never wagon figurative tail when fired
from one after another workstation.

Hence metaphorically hermetically sealed self
against incessant beastie boys squirreled away
amidst imaginative escapes courtesy bookshelf
isolates myself, viz remaining figuratively at bay
interestingly enough petrified livingsocial whereby
flesh and bone closely resembled hardened clay

hashtagged Matthew Scott Harris as pipsqueak
deadset to halt physical maturation without delay
anorexia nervosa (modus operandi) did buzzfeed
starved and emaciated lovely bones
as main entree
unbeknownst then, but clear as a bell now
emotional state of parents
unspooled and didst fray
father and mother aghast
their pallor went ashen gray

grim reaper wielding
large scythe intimating hooray
approximately half dozen years later
both parents relentlessly vilified
verbally hammered
and especially didst inveigh
against their sole singular son
born thirteenth of January
hooded think those folks
who begot me cruel as kkk

to escape vitriolic wrath atop roof at Glen Elm, I lay
Gambone builders bought property
razed demesne
nevertheless indelible memories
emotional reprieve
spiritual succor delivered upon
many a bygone May
when heat radiating off shingles
served newgateway
passing time and wishing myself far as Norway.

Yours truly risk averse
which characteristic,
I declare constitutes curse
thus isolation found me sprawled out
upon wuthering heights
against regular diet of diatribes
delivered carte blanche
with expletive filled verse
toward solitary son ill fate
receiving nasty brutal abuse
considered dying far less worse.

Precious minutes and hours atop
gabled hideaway blithely did elapse
me gingerly scuttling out attic window
though agoraphobic and loathe to drop
distance and no longer courting death
no matter concluding life (during
early/mid twenties) total flop
merely wishing rage against
male offspring would stop.

Inconvenient stated truth,
albeit synopsis regarding
second born (middle child)
begat courtesy Harriet and Boyce
upon their psychologically harried
flesh of young blood

yelling hurtful words severely uncouth
(both parents deceased),
now said heir long in the tooth
who wonders why forsooth
he tolerated torturous abuse.

— The End —