"debilitated" poems
When did I get so cynical?
Was it when promises were broken?
Did it happen once you left?
When you left my wounds open?
Was it when you left me bereft?
Was it when I saw what people did?
Did it happen after noticing your vie?
When you made that dishonest bid?
Was it when all you did was belie?
Was it when plans were changed?
Did it happen when I was manipulated?
When you made me feel so estranged?
Was it when I was left debilitated?
When did I get so cynical?
Was it when I left promises broken?
Did it happen once I left?
When I saw your wounds open?
Was it when my wake left you bereft?
Was it when I saw what I did?
Did it happen after noticing my vie?
When I made those dishonest bids?
Was it when all I did was belie?
Was it when I made plans change?
Did it happen once I manipulated?
When I made people feel estranged?
Was it when I made you debilitated?
When did I get so cynical?
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 3:32 PM UTC
#
**Your door wasn’t locked
and I wasn’t going to wait
Not after I sprinted here,
that’s quite a long way
I’ve run 3 kilometres just to see you**
Kiss my shoe, be grateful.
Surely I am owed some compensation
For my extensive dedication
I’ll take advantage
the only time I know you’re weak
You can’t set boundaries
when you’re asleep
Your vulnerability makes me greedy
the thought of you subdued,
**** Debilitated and unconscious
Entitled, I claim that time with you
#
Nov 18, 2022
Nov 18, 2022 at 7:27 AM UTC
Pity him, or her...pity them
Pity those victims of devastation
And infestations
And molestation
Pity the children...those abandoned babies
But it is not enough...
Please...do something beyond pity.
Pity those in extreme poverty,
Suffering from incapabilities...
Pity those with agonizing hearts
Because of missing body parts
Marred, disfigured, debilitated
Physically,
Emotionally
Psychologically..
But, it is not enough
Please...do something beyond pity.
Pity even those with aching hearts
Devastated, with broken hearts
Who find it difficult to heal
Believe again, a cruel world, so real.
Be guided,in reflecting,
There are others more deserving,
Beware of those who are self-serving
Know who are in most need of caring
Know that, beyond pity, there's more to be done
Much can be done...If we all try to be one.
Sally
Copyright April 6, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
#abandonedbabies #abusedchildren #molestation #devastation #incapabilities #pity #npmimportant
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 8:46 PM UTC
I cling to him,
Mascara stains his shirt
Like ink blotches on a left wrist.
Oh, how deeply, deeply
Sweetly –
Completely I feel this pain
Burrowed in the most hidden corner of my soul
Patched like cancer on the walls of my lungs
And Oh, how deeply, deeply
Sweetly –
Complete and utterly
Did we weep and wail through the darkness of that night
Tears cried by dull-ember fireside
This hurts more than we ever thought it could
Crocodile eyes ooze wet and hot
Figures entangle themselves in desperation
Words are few yet heart-wrenching
The strongest among us are bulldozed into flat implacability
Sorrow inhabits the cracks in my soul
Like chalk smeared across concrete.
Weep dear children,
Not ready to grow up
Weep dear friends,
For the depth of your love
Weep dear graduates
When morning comes you’ll have to leave
Weep for this country, that stained you and changed you
Weep for the institution, that burned you and bettered you
Weep for the people, who loved and supported you
Weep for your childhood, that carried you from birth to here
Weep, sweet alumni for all that you’re losing
For all the departure
For all the uncertainty
For all the promises that will be broken
And friendships that will not be kept up
Weep over the map
And curse the dividing waters
Weep my beloveds,
Deny yourselves no tears
Weep deeply
Weep deeply
Weep sweetly
Weep completely
Weep utterly and totally and whole-heartedly
Weep because this matters more than anything ever has
Weep because this has been the most beautiful and devine gift
Weep because you’ve been pierced to the core,
Debilitated by the most far-reaching love imaginable
And weep because
The world is expansive,
The oceans are deep and the lands are wide
The people are numerous and the cultures are diverse
The opportunities are endless
The combinations are infinite
Your life is long
And your future is full of immense possibility
But you will never have this again,
So weep.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 8:10 AM UTC
Demagogues of our society; daftly delivering
disarming delusions of decrepit delights.
Dealing in powder, rock and liquid death,
demurely doled out in droves to the
willing unconscious, dysfunctional deviants
of the land.
Blindly offering devotions, flaccid devotions
to plastic, white collar deities; giving new
definition to internal deformity, through
decelerated dejection.
Desperate and emotionally dismembered,
defrauded by quick, cheap decadence,
debauchery, and mental decay in many
deliriously delicious forms...pick a flavor,
name your poison!
Delegate your defect, as those with
doctoral degrees in defunct traditions
do deviously delineate their demented
designs...for our future.
DejaVu?
Perhaps, but in fact, it is we
who sniff, inject and drink up their drivel,
decidedly and dutifully depleted of
intellect by way of dubious data.
Duplicitous dullards...sanitize and
deodorize their fiendish lies...as we,
WE do nothing!
Not enough of us dumbfounded or
dumbstruck by their deceitful smiles.
Full of dread and deep dismay, by
the statutes of the day...I, for one,
will dream of better days, when we
shall defeat these diabolical demons.
But for now, down beaten, downtrodden;
we will continue to be denigrated for
the duration.
Clever dissection; dumb as they want you
to be,
disparity of all creativity...individuality...
and all of your rights...controversially.
Our disgruntled displeasure doomed...to
fall on dormant hearts...and we,
debilitated and daunted, lives dismantled,
are now forever haunted, by our freedoms
demise...by days we could question
their smiling lies.
Demagogues; Big Brother...such delinquents
dosing up the masses with a deluge of powder,
rock sedation and liquid elation...pick your flavor,
name your poison.
At the end of the day WE are ONE...duped,
defaced, defeated...and to continue on this
road, our final denouement will come
disturbingly disguised...as DEATH!
-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 3:40 PM UTC
It was the eve of my birth and within that
moment of creation I was a fallen as the echo
of my cries were thrown into the industrial
******* bin behind the old take-away.
My teen years were so lewd and contrived,
I thought I had friends, but I was like the
******* I was at birth they used me a threw
me away and again I was alone.
It was upon my tenth birthday that I had
lingered in this abyss long enough, I decided
on that day that I would greet those as I was
greeted to return those favours ten fold ,
My step-dad he was my first gift to my suffering
I introduced him to that pain as I quenched his
sight or lack of with a scuffed spoon rims shaper
than a blade I said words as he screamed.
"I will scoop singular or two, depends on your taste,
Son, please listen to me, he spoke in quivering stuttered
vocals. But I thought it delightful in laughable sniggers.
See how I saw the world, feel the occasions that converted
my emotions to what I'm debilitated to this moment now.
I scooped them out like a ice cream, I thought in this
moment of Mint choc chip, and pineapple sorbet.
Mmm the taste that was seeping from lips. But that
was the blood validating itself on my skin.
All I heard was his voice crying and it made me
regurgitate what I had consumed. It was on the
floor not tasting as it went down like victory.
I just plunged the spoon into his throat...
I didn't want to taste his life, I just wanted to
watch it seep on his white chocolate shirt. It was
like strawberry sorbet with a bitter taste as I licked
a echo of it of my hand "why did I tast it at all??
I had ended so many stains on my life, took their
eyes to show them how I felt. If I had kept them
looking like pickled eggs in a jar. Thinking if they
could still see each others moments in each others sight.
I took their eyes, so each could see how it felt for what
they put me through. I had no guilt, I just consumed
everything they saw and laid it to rest. I wasn't killing
I was just releasing their guilt and consuming it all.
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 6:13 PM UTC
If we don't talk for a few weeks,
Our friendship might start to seem bleak,
But are you quite sure that is a reason
To go and commit blatant treason?
If you so easily lose your interest,
You will surely create a gap, a distance,
Between what you love and who you love,
And you might never rise above.
If I can't always make the time
To find your hilltop and to it climb,
Shall you assume that I am idle and lazy
Before considering that your ridges are hazy?
If they break my bones and tear open my scars
As they stab needles into my flesh and release my stars,
Will you still wait for me to come around
When you know I am debilitated on the ground?
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 11:50 PM UTC
Action turns will to reality.
When one lives to watch,
the will is snuffed out.
Conjurers of nothing breed apathy
and those with no purpose, rot.
They let themselves be consumed,
to be fuel for those with inspiration.
The wounded gazelle is eaten
and the lion is fed.
Later the lion fades as well,
but not without eating many gazelle.
Progress is purpose and purpose brings the advancement of all.
Hell is a place downtown.
Poverty lines the streets and no one takes action.
This is where inspiration goes to die
and those debilitated gazelle are swallowed whole.
Their sacrifice pushes the cogs onward
toward oblivion and the unquenchable void
of
SELF
INTEREST.
Jun 15, 2013
Jun 15, 2013 at 7:30 PM UTC
I don't want to reopen my old wounds
But it’s just the only thing I have left to do
There's nothing more to be said about me
Except for a condolence or a passing apology
Picking at the ***** scars, hoping for an infection
Hoping the festering bacteria would spread through
Hoping for sensation, or something maybe close
Hoping that these old wounds would feel brand new
I’m already too numb to ask for more medication
Already too debilitated to beg for a final miracle cure
I’m already too sick, far too late to try on and on
Already at the brink of extinction to still feel unsure
I’m opening old wounds, bleeding them out to dry
Doing everything they all told me not to do, only left out to die
There’s nothing more to be done, no band-aid left to rip
These old wounds seem useless when there’s nothing left in me to fix.
Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 3:52 AM UTC
My mother never smiles,
but her soul is a garden filled with joy.
Her eyes shine like a full moon,
glistening at all the darkness in the world.
She yearned to be free,
her soul tangled in the roots of oppression,
while her eyes were haunted by images of discrimination.
As a child I wondered why?
Why does my mother never smile?
She’s so beautiful like the stars in the sky.
Even roses are jealous of the redness blushing beneath her eyes.
I think I even yelled,
“Mom, why are you so unhappy?”
But I was just a child,
I didn’t see the love that filled her bubbly brown eyes.
My corrupted character debilitated her spirit,
believing she was,
ungrateful,
unhappy,
and cold,
as a tundra and I was a palm tree,
but really we were both tulips,
and she was just teaching me how to bloom.
She’s a hero who never received her praise.
Depicting her sorrows through colors on a canvas,
meditating herself to solace.
She knew how to leave this world behind,
for the sake of her own mind.
As I aged,
I suffered,
I spiraled into multiple dark holes,
I blamed,
I begged,
I screamed,
with silence taped across my mouth,
“Why am I so unhappy?”
But unlike my mother I always smiled,
and it was always a lie.
This taught me the limits of a smile,
and why my mother didn’t need to smile,
because a smile is often just a lie,
she expressed her happiness on the inside.
I fell into a pit swimming with fear,
battled demons I thought were my friends.
I’d assumed sadness was a punishment,
but it became my reward.
My mother taught me I didn’t need to smile,
the sadness helped illuminate the good in my life,
and it was okay not to always be fine.
My mother exposed me to my soul,
how tender it is and how harsh I am.
Depicting the reality of what life is,
since I only saw it as a sin.
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
Nothing better than I chance to show you how I’ve froze over hell givin’ Beelzebub a chill,
Your fables hold little weight when you try to justify their existence as long as I continue dissect your deities,
Not that I am entitled but I can careless about how you explain yourself without the brain,
I’ve been broken and forced to put the pieces back together because I’m not ready to embrace the oblivion without a say,
Without of a chance to reciprocate what you didn’t do for me,
I’m telling you to **** yourself till I fill in your grave,
Get ready son for your vacant destiny,
I’m done with the mental constraints of your needs,
I’m fed up with taking a beating for the ignorance that breeds,
Your about to bounce a check that will leave you dangled at the neck,
Not a threat but I didn’t oppress the armed of ancestral resistance,
That desk can’t keep you from the reach of those who believe in unconditional independence,
And you know why you walk a thin line,
It isn’t because of those nickels and dimes you earn overtime,
It isn’t because you drive home to a white picketed life full of lies,
It’s because you know if one of us grabs a mic we might turn to the tide, the next chapter of this species existence,
Making you extinct,
You think daddy’s inheritance will let you pass any Bill,
But it only takes one to change the tone,
One to alter the course of ****** fostered governance,
Not suggesting a Reich’s renovation,
Or an imperialist’s intervention,
But an interruption to this Nation’s corruption,
**** your principals, **** what your father’s told you,
It’s our turn to mend this debilitated democracy,
To end this domesticated atrocity,
So sorry not trying to foment insurrection,
Just asking the children to picket your legislative lickings,
The documents you pen in order to silence dissidence,
But I’m not going to fear old men with millions,
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 1:29 PM UTC
Allow redemption to chisel
Carving the flesh case of the debilitated.
Swallowing the introspection of death.
Choking on excrement.
Decomposing.
A feeble heart beats in morse code.
The last message received, the last script of opprobrium.
Dead, and insignificant.
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 12:44 PM UTC
At the laundromat today,
my stomach flipped
on demand
hearing a familiar chord
on the public radio station.
I panicked, yelled
a curse before
the lyrics even began.
Customers all
grew silent and turned
to look at me.
Which made the song overhead
only
louder.
Delirious.
I hate your ******* music,
your popularity, your effervescent
congeniality.
I hate your stupid songs about the ocean.
Lost respect for you, your
band, your
God.
Resent the fool you've made of me
behind closed doors,
rubbing your fears off
on me in the dark,
a doubting Thomas with
convictions.
I argued your qualms
at Bible study tonight.
Down to Ecclesiates and
the girls in India.
Remembered buying you a sandwich
in the bookstore
the day I met you.
You were looking through C. S. Lewis,
confounded, almost bewildered,
debilitated by questions I
hadn't ever
thought to ask that
I can't get out of
my mind now.
Like a bad song
stuck in my head that
I can't
seem to shake.
Oct 28, 2011
Oct 28, 2011 at 12:04 AM UTC
Sometimes when I'm faced
With a decision I freeze, great..
My Lifes taken to sticks it, and sit it,
At a fork In the road, to wait
For my choice, where's fate?
....cuz so far my choices to date
Is why I'm writing this, fighting it,
Knowing in my past I've made
Decisions causing collisions
Man made damnation,damaging
The way only a master of disaster
Can... With a strategy of calamity
A catastrophe, to make an *** of me
Like I compete VS. tragedy
To see who can cause more horror,. &destruction; but no match for me
Is he, as my demolition savagery
Similar to whenever havocs seen
And as it happens. I'm always like
"Yo..What the F$&@ is happening??!"
Clueless like Alicia silverstone
In the library with a wrench
As Cornel mustard calls her *****
And this is where ration ends
And wanders like it saunters off
topic hoping itll delay or help
Fantasies of **** woman come out
Now I'm a Plummer...hired to help
... But eventually, I'm back held
Forced to be an adult, oh why ..
..forced to pick a road or grow old
And hold stagnant, until I die
Which don't sound so bad, but a dad
Always has to consider
And factor in. to weigh the variable,
In the form of his lil diaper *******
Who really could use a baby sitter
Who is sexy,so a ....baby sister
Can be made, but ...focus dont stray
This is no time to joke or play
Eeny-meeny miney moe
Catch a politician by its toe
So you can ask advice, then told:
"It's a gd time to relapse on blow"
Which is only said cuz my head
Controls the imagined figment
Which says nothing except that,my
Heads not where sane thoughts visit
So as I stare at the two paths
I feel debilitated and instead
Of perpetual fear, the thoughts fed
Says no matter which way I head
Ill be left to wonder where I'm lead
If I chose the path, which I did not
When I decide and divide I try the path I now continue so do not
think too much. and yet still
Frozen and paralyzed at a halt
I stand a man, full of fear, a vault
holding a scared boy full of fault
But Self doubt amplifies as adults
At least for me, so immobile I'm left
Confused by why I'm still undecided
But already feel my choices regret ...
..... I hope I don't fork myself .....
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 1:28 AM UTC
You grabbed my chest and ripped it open,
Until my heart- all I was, fell on the linoleum.
My lungs were full, so with careful precision,
You used a scalpel and made an incision.
For an agonizing time I waited...
As you slowly took me apart and left me debilitated.
You looked at my parts and with a close inspection
You tossed out the ones that weren't perfection.
Then you began to reassemble me, with parts that were new.
While you repeatedly told me how much better they would do.
I believed all of your words and didn't question it.
But once they were in, my chest hurt, and they felt unfit.
I wanted them out, and my old pieces back.
But you said that wouldn't work, I couldn't back track.
Now I'm stuck with pieces that don't fully fit me.
Because I fell into the worlds description of who I should be.
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC
It is with
the sweeping abandon
of thunder
and the stinging bite
of lighting
that the heart leaps;
beating wild
to a conundrum
that is offset,
which fears and thrills,
encapsulated
by the release
of passion,
so severely withheld
until the roar outside
provokes the flare inside,
and in the heady mix
of fierce power,
spirited temper,
propositioned fear,
and debilitated living,
does the soul tremble,
does the skin shiver
and the body
comes to life.
,
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
"Hold you birds your silver throats, His golden voice I'm seeking"
See,
your voice
your smooth rasping voice
lulls me to sleep
Oh,
to fall asleep
in the cozy little caves
in the valleys
in the landscape
of your voice
to cover the glass, of my
darkened
distressed
debilitated
eyes
with the drapes of your voice
to cover the skin, of my
caving
crying
chilling
body
with the quilt of your voice
Jul 24, 2022
Jul 24, 2022 at 5:40 PM UTC
I see you standing across the lake of fire,
Your body caved in wire,
Your eyes are the colour of black sapphire,
The excess of your skin begins to peel,
Your teeth are the colour of molten steel,
My heart is squelched in your hand,
You stare at me with hedonism,
Your long tongue runs along my heart,
You quench for the thirst of my self-worth,
Your long nails stretch and twinge my arteries,
Feels like the blood boiling in my pancreas,
I fall to my knees and let out a harrowing scream,
Blood dripples down from my mouth,
My teeth begin to spill out relentlessly
My soul is inflamed by all your greed,
I force myself to get up and plea for my worth
You rupture into a lowering laugh,
Which punctures and disrupts the earth
A black desert storm erupts and crackles,
The dense grey clouds oozes and bellows,
Heaviness of dust grain fills the atmosphere,
Creating a wheeziness and tightness in my chest,
I try to escape from the feeling of desolation,
A sensation of electrocution shocks my neck down to my spine,
My brain shivers and flips as an electric shock hits again,
An odour of burnt flesh pollutes the atmosphere,
My skin fades into a texture of black charcoal,
Feeling debilitated,
I fold and recoil into myself on the cold desert floor,
A wave of emotional pain creeps over my body,
I chew on my lower lip as my eyes swell up with tears,
My stomach churning and swirling with nausea
I close my eyes as the tears gush down my cheeks,
Lips trembling as I grip my sleeves for comfort,
Moment of silence as I weep into my hands,
I hear a deathly, low and sinister whisper in my ear,
“It’s over now….”
My swollen pallid eyes look up to see,
Their carcass shrivelled legs standing over me,
“Surrender...” they whisper with a devilish smile
Jun 4, 2021
Jun 4, 2021 at 5:02 AM UTC
*******
One of our heart desires is to fly above our heights,
But many have been limited to their depths,
Different circumstances have bound us down,
And we have been struggling even till dawn.
Our lives is at the mercy of a social authority,
Who will liberate us from this captivity?
We have been debilitated in our attempt to move,
Our situation say we have nothing to prove.
Poverty has sold us into slavery,
Gone are the days when we look bravery,
But ******* has drawn strength out of us,
And now we have been treated unjust like a horse.
We thought education can give us freedom,
But we have been dealt blow in our kingdom,
In ******* we cry for rescue,
Their short comings is not an excuse.
When we are found at a very risk of life,
We count it as an experience in order to survive,
In hard situation we should not give up,
And each time we fall we should rise up.
When my complex soul is shunned,
Should I asked for help from the sun?
But my wings have been cut short by *******
I gazed into the sky to seek for courage.
We have been feeble as well as dumb,
We have been confined and dumped,
Liberation is the only language of *******
And will keep fighting until we are salvaged.
Sep 4, 2020
Sep 4, 2020 at 3:14 AM UTC
She ...is the Goddess of my four-in-the-mornings
... is the Florence Nightingale of my debilitated wanderings.
...does not judge.
...simply pours as I ignore the menu.
...always returns just in time to top me off.
...wears that stained, pleated apron like Aphrodite wears the summer wind.
(With that spittle-slick pencil
Balanced so precariously behind her left ear)
She... renders quiet absolution, with creme, and sugar.
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 7:14 AM UTC
Lying motionless on the sofa,
eyes fixated on the gray and purple cat clock perched on the mantle,
watching apathetically as the second hand
click click clicks,
stuck in place as the hour and the minute hands
sit sit sit,
as if intentionally to keep time from passing;
sit sit sitting
lie lie lying
stuck in place,
disappointment
click click clicking
in my mind,
so debilitated that
I can't even feel the passage of time,
the clock intentionally refraining from counting minutes so are empty.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 6:41 PM UTC
For me,
You truly,
Care Sir,
My future,
You wished,
Only bright.
But alas,
It's not,
Thoroughly dark,
Sitting here.
And endeavours,
Not sufficient,
Doomed failure.
Priceless moments,
Indeed wasted,
Eastwards staring,
Caring not,
Efforts wasted,
So sorry.
Because I feel so cheated,
Unforgettable are the marks,
Truly loving makes you prone.
But yes Sire,
I'm only debilitated,
Totally not devastated,
Such pains I'm accustomed to.
Wishing an easier life,
Is not for me at all,
Losing myself,
Long I have been.
So hear in night's ears,
I will rise once again.
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 9:28 AM UTC