"deface" poems
457
Sweet—safe—Houses—
Glad—gay—Houses—
Sealed so stately tight—
Lids of Steel—on Lids of Marble—
Locking Bare feet out—
Brooks of Plush—in Banks of Satin
Not so softly fall
As the laughter—and the whisper—
From their People Pearl—
No Bald Death—affront their Parlors—
No Bold Sickness come
To deface their Stately Treasures—
Anguish—and the Tomb—
Hum by—in Muffled Coaches—
Lest they—wonder Why—
Any—for the Press of Smiling—
Interrupt—to die—
6.7k
Blinding bright lights and,screeching sirens. Loud yelling voices,the feel of tightening handcuffs. Back seat of a cop car,I'm thinking this is where my time is going to end.
Thinking about my baby girl, and her soft blue eyes. What does she think,what's
On her little mind? A little angel who is so warm hearted and innocent,I hope to
God I never have to hear her cries..knowing I'm the cause of the pain she's
Feeling inside.
How could I do this to her...to me....to us!? Causing feelings of broken trust, choosing to deface a
Love, feeling trapped..choosing to be on the devils side.
How Can I break loose from this,one of a kind,truly,fucked up,love twisted homicide!?
Im not. It's not. It's never giving me up,no matter how hard I sincerely try. It feels
Impossible,while It literally feels of being squeezed,in the grips of an addicting,
Controlling,unforgiving,relentless nightmare.
With the monster.
It hurts to say,that even the strongest feel of genuine love,isn't even enough to save me.
I'm addicted to this love thing,and even I know,it will never fade nor leave my memory
For good,and stay away once and for all.
Trying to be free is not an option. It's like they say,and everyone has heard it before...once
You try it,that's the end of what once was normal. This lifestyle is now normal. For me it
Was love at first taste.
Now I'm willingly a prisoner,drowning in a forever life of sorrow.
Unforgettable,and unable to forgive. I'm forever stuck with overwhelming hunger pains,
Hopefully one day I will no longer fiend for our dangerous,killing love, but for now the soul
Of a once beautiful,pure human being...has been possessed,and the soul has become dark,and
Cold..keeping faith that one day,I'll be strong enough to walk away.
I will never feel the same as i did before. the damage has been done, theres no changing that.
I hope someday I can feel relief,and feel love again. Not happening as long as the monster has
A hold of me.
TILL **** DO US PART.
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 11:40 PM UTC
the sun beams out of every single one of your pores
and i’ve never seen a smile quite as convincing as yours
but one day the pictures painted in your eyes will crack;
maybe stumble and fall and i’ve never seen a face as sincere
and pure. the world is your oyster, your catfish and squid
and your delicate soul is a masterpiece, it is.
i don’t wanna see your veins blow up in your wrist
or your hand pulling your hair out, tainted with fear
your life isn’t a movie it’s a merry-go-round and the
sickness you feel will one day die down, just hold on
to hope because it’s all we have left, hold on to my
jacket, my sweater, my vest.
i’m not a prophet nor a saint, not an angel at all
i’m merely a souvenir of disjointed, brooding thoughts
but you’re captivating and like a gust of wind, i’ll
hold your hand and take care of the strings that
are attached to you, like a puppet of beauty, don’t
let your heartache deface your sanity
because i know you’re tired
and aching
and scared
but take my hand, hold it tight and walk with me
into candlelight.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
Before-
“Run! Come on their gonna catch us!”
We really messed up this time.
Whose idea was it to smash
the mailboxes? Deface the school
parking lot? Jesus Ch-
“Is that mom’s car?”
JESUS CHR-
“Nevermind.”
After-
“Three for seventy or five for seventy-five. Best deal in town.”
We really messed up this time.
Who forgot the lighter and
and cash? Where’s the hell
are the papers? What the f-
“Are these sugar?”
WHAT THE FU-
“Nevermind.”
Before-
“Shut up! He’s gonna see us!”
We really messed up this time.
Who thought throwing popcorn
at the cute movie theater boy
was a good idea” Oh sh-
“He’s looking over here!”
OH SHI-
“Nevermind.”
After-
***** tastes better straight.”
We really messed up this time.
Who bought Smirnoff? We
wanted UV. Where are the
shot glasses? Son of a-
“I think this stuff is expired…”
SON OF A B-
“Nevermind.”
Before-
“We had a test?!”
I really messed up this time.
When did we even take notes?
I don't remember the what
we even went over. God da-
“Yeah, he said its worth 20% of our grade.”
GOD DAM-
“Nevermind.”
After-
“What is going on?!”
We really messed up this time.
The room smells like substance.
Curtains closed- eyes closed.
Broken orange bottles- Bu-
“He took too many!”
Burn-
“He’s not waking up!”
Burno-
“Call someone!”
BURNOUT.
“Nevermind?”
Before-
“This is the best day of my life.”
We are okay this time.
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 5:15 PM UTC
I now delight
In spite
Of the might
And the right
Of classic tradition,
In writing
And reciting
Straight ahead,
Without let or omission,
Just any little rhyme
In any little time
That runs in my head;
Because, I’ve said,
My rhymes no longer shall stand arrayed
Like Prussian soldiers on parade
That march,
Stiff as starch,
Foot to foot,
Boot to boot,
Blade to blade,
Button to button,
Cheeks and chops and chins like mutton.
No! No!
My rhymes must go
Turn ’ee, twist ’ee,
Twinkling, frosty,
Will-o’-the-wisp-like, misty;
Rhymes I will make
Like Keats and Blake
And Christina Rossetti,
With run and ripple and shake.
How pretty
To take
A merry little rhyme
In a jolly little time
And poke it,
And choke it,
Change it, arrange it,
Straight-lace it, deface it,
Pleat it with pleats,
Sheet it with sheets
Of empty conceits,
And chop and chew,
And hack and hew,
And weld it into a uniform stanza,
And evolve a neat,
Complacent, complete,
Academic extravaganza!
3.1k
You promised to take me to the woods and sleep with me under the stars,
You promised me an adventure,
And by God you took me on one-
You weaved me through forest just trying to find you,
Searching for your remnants in the fallen leaves and branches scattered across the forest floor
You led me to a tall tree where I could carve our names into the wood, as selfish as that was,
And deface beautiful Mother Nature because I thought our love was also as breathtaking as she.
Our love was breathtaking-
You whisked me away and ran us to the tops of mountains.
You took me to peaks where I felt alive,
And valleys where I felt so down to earth I could've melted into the paths we paved
The same way I did every time your arms wrapped around my waist
And your head rested on my shoulder,
And you whispered in my ears about how you didn't want to be anywhere else.
I jumped rocks and cliffs with you,
Falling so hard and fast the same way I did
Any time you looked at me with those patient eyes,
Any time you found the time to hold me and love me in any way you could muster.
I fell into water and your sea eyes any time I jumped;
You made me fall so **** hard.
You took me to the edges of sunsets
That never rivaled the way your smile shined
When I told you I loved you,
Or rivaled the way your face looked when you laughed.
You had Mother Nature beat when it came to beauty.
You had me beat when I tried to find a reason to be upset you never actually took me on an adventure like you promised,
Maybe because falling in love with you was an adventure all in itself;
You left me blistered, aching and sore.
But I left you with the world in my eyes, the sea dripping from them,
The mountains weighing on my heart
And the shores soaking my soul because venturing into your world meant I had left my own,
And it took me so much **** time trying to find a path back to mine.
You took me for one hell of an adventure,
And the paths you treaded left footprints in my heart
That are blown away but aren't forgotten.
You promised to take me out to see the sights and walk the world-
Falling in love with you took me for an adventure that you didn't plan for,
And one I couldn't sustain much longer.
That's the thing about you, us, adventures-
They're thrilling and beautiful,
Breathtaking and wild.
They come to an end though,
And the adventure you took me on stained me with a sense of wanderlust you'll never come to see or know.
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
When I am dead, and doctors know not why,
And my friends’ curiosity
Will have me cut up to survey each part,—
When they shall find your picture in my heart,
You think a sudden damp of love
Will through all their senses move,
And work on them as me, and so prefer
Your ****** to the name of massacre.
Poor victories! But if you dare be brave,
And pleasure in your conquest have,
First **** th’ enormous giant, your Disdain,
And let th’ enchantress Honour next be slain,
And like a Goth and Vandal rise,
Deface records and histories
Of your own arts and triumphs over men,
And, without such advantage, **** me then.
For I could muster up as well as you
My giants, and my witches too,
Which are vast Constancy and Secretness;
But these I neither look for nor profess.
**** me as woman, let me die
As a mere man; do you but try
Your passive valour, and you shall find then,
Naked you have odds enough of any man.
2.7k
Familiar grooves and caramel swells,
Fleshy masses and velvety, flecked skin
Of the body she hates and loves so well.
Trapped in this sole vessel in which she dwells,
Behind corpulent walls, she feels choked in.
Familiar grooves and caramel swells,
A warm and supple being, she compels
Herself to deface with hate. The scarring
Of the body she hates and loves so well.
Stare at the reflection, try to dispel
Scrutiny. She wants to embrace and grin.
Familiar grooves and caramel swells,
She knows her body’s deep and ***** spell,
Justifying gluttony, making sin
Of the body she hates and loves so well.
Gently caressing as she softly tells
Her fullness of forgiving and loving
Familiar grooves and caramel swells
Of the body she hates and loves so well.
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
* *A tear is shed
For those who are blind to the beauty of this world
Who can only feast on sarcasm, writhing in irony
* *It soon evaporates.
Pictures of a future dressed in ribbons and lace, cast off and burned
Pictures of the future carrying disdainful dystopia, infamous for invalids
Hung to admire in sublime distaste by those that seek knowledge
And see the repetitious antiquities of time that come to pass
But others care not for plans and the imminent
Those that keep to the light of the gas
And carry the past to the present
Hoping for trends to try again, reliving what they had never lived
Laconic and loquacious in emotions and words
Against the gossip, but paradoxically
Pushing for the creation of their “ritualistic social Golgotha”.
Those who abuse the glory of their munificent, malicious mentality
Pathetically unable to procure authentic happiness
A tear is shed.
Inside the recesses of the soul where emotions dare not dwell.
It too evaporates.
Trapped in fear and the “cliched harlequin speech of suicide”
Begging for the masses to cast them out and find each other
A tear is shed.
Never seen but felt as it evaporates.
Felt by those who envelop themselves inside themselves
Those who plagiarize their sick self-conscious souls
Those who bring about the very misfortune they strive to devour
Those who are effortlessly envied as they exploit their habitual recreations
By those who wouldn’t dream of falsified euphoria
Those who bastardise and deface the name of creative individualism
As waters of the soul are purged and discarded
They are felt by those
And are quickly washed away in doubt and regret
Keeping to the light of the gas, dangerous and warm
Feb 25, 2013
Feb 25, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
The Pill
Called up big Pharma,
Sad and depressed,
I told them straight out:
Dudes, I need a new karma.
*NO problem they cheerfully replied,
(later I wondered, which pill they were on)
We custom make, haute couture, drug-design,
Mood enhancers, in little canisters,
You need only supply the cash and the system vascular!
Your soul's desire?
To be a better wilder, rambler,
Or a life calmer, better anchored?*
I know what I want, exactly,
A pill that removes
Specific words
From the frontal lobe temple
Verbal storage center.
*NO problem! (so cheery it was kinda scary)
Which words would you like to have
Exorcised, annihilated, irradiated, confiscated?*
I list from below, from side to side,
Let not one be denied,
Bury them all in nether-lands,
Swamp them under mountains of
Granite and sand,
Banish them from my lexicon.
How much do you charge?
But one dollar per word.
The list I emailed complete,
Herein I reprint.
Scars Pain Wound Strain Torture Anguish
Disfigure Damage Mar Mutilate Maim Blemish Deface Damage Ruin Distress
Afflict Trouble Wound Torment Agonize Sad Suffer Sting Throb
Torture Torment Despair Suffer Distress Hurt Vex Trouble
Ache Hurt Misery Woe Bitterness Misery Agony Bitter
Heartache Afflict Hurt Cut Loathing Shatter Broken
Alone Bleed Struggle Self-destruct Monster
Nightmare Cornered Darkness Horror
Loner Confused Goodbye Suicide
Slash Cut Desolate Submerge
Dissipate Dead Stinking
Enough.
Awaiting my concoction sweet,
When an answer they begat,
A response forthcoming, indeed was snubbing!
**Dear Sir/Madam,
We regret to inform you that we are unable to manufacture
Said item. Removal of these words would be a violation of
Federal Poetry Laws.
Sadly yours,
Big Pharma
P.S. Are you the author of "Yo! Yo! Warning: the government is reading your poetry! (Metadata Mining This Site) on HP?"**
P.P.S. Please do not contact us anymore.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 1:53 PM UTC
distress men
distress women the children follow suit
rooted to their calculation
pick-pitted-
minds-eye-
bore-hole n' punction
functional ? they ponder the fault idling in their programs din
rescue them ?
their fearsome egos will gum you up
tup and rupture your goodwill
despair man
despair woman the children groping at their heels
sealed and merry mated to the manner spools that habit
rabbits and fools back into the boil
assess
make a meal
displace them ?
their otherworldly longings ?
wrong them welcome into your loving bloom
this is how its done
here's a catalogue
how big you've won
better gig than landing on the moon
distrust man
deface woman the children drink from the wound
battle become the saviour
behaviour shot against the mood
food to greet the newly batched cultural result
faulty
worthy of mention
the soiled spell
going to drown though the generations
recreation
just trust the serpent eye
and the lens of peddling assault holds everything to its station
for a jittering moment
for a breakable moment
a disgraced monument
bereft fidgeting in its place
Sep 23, 2022
Sep 23, 2022 at 9:49 AM UTC
It's cool to just sit
Here and deal with this ****
But hey, its better
Where the pudding is thick,
Or so they tell me,
Along with
'Don't fall for tricks,'
They'll always get you
If your mind is weak,
Like the obliques
In my side
That've been hurting for weeks,
They're so sore from
The combination
Of boredom
And the conflagration
Of all the
Tinder inside my body
That hinders my
Lodi-Dodi
Outlook
On benders
That have become
Normality,
Like you've become
A malady,
A mother-may-I
Comedy
That keeps me laughing,
Keeps me guessing,
Keeps me passing
Up on
Rafting
Down that river,
But didn't you know
That ocean never comes?
So I'll keep drifting
And counting my ones,
And try to blame
The ones on the run
Instead of the ****
Doing the chasing
And erasing my luck,
While I deface my face
And wait
For this bronco
To buck
Me off
Into the muck
Of eternal loss.
It already happened?
You got it, boss.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 12:43 AM UTC
Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface
In thee thy summer ere thou be distilled.
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
With beauty’s treasure ere it be self-killed.
That use is not forbidden usury
Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
That’s for thyself to breed another thee,
Or ten times happier, be it ten for one,
Ten times thy self were happier than thou art,
If ten of thine ten times refigured thee;
Then what could death do, if thou shouldst depart,
Leaving thee living in posterity?
Be not self-willed, for thou art much too fair
To be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir.
1.8k
It's been a year since my suicide attempt. Right now, I'd be in the ER waiting to find out which inpatient clinic I'd go to. One year. Since, I have escaped from toxic people and shifted from an old self. One year. What do I have to show for it? Emotional outbursts? A nicotine addiction? Abandoning my creativity? A battle with a psychological addiction to psychedelic drugs? What does progress look like? What does it mean to reconstruct yourself? A building torn - that's what I am. A prairie, a forest, which has experienced a wild fire. Beyond recognition, I deface myself - as if to erase myself and destroy the things I like. What does progress look like? Am I getting there? In my view, progress is not always seen by you directly. It is not our job to determine if we make progress, but, by the value of people and situations in our lives, we will have it be seen. To do things for ourselves is wonderful. But, what does progress look like? It looks like making giant leaps forward - and then three steps back. It looks like dipping our toe in the water, and then wanting to dry off. It looks like it's perfect, but actually not. It looks like a broken toy fixed with expired super glue. Who are we to determine progression? It's an obsession of the mind for us to think that progress means we must always be fine - that we must be perfect. If I have a million irrational thoughts in a day, does that make my one totally rational thought insignificant? I think not. If I spend one day totally upbeat, productive, and happy - are my sad feelings any less valid? No. So, progress looks like this: admitting to yourself that sometimes we won't have things together completely. We acknowledge it, think rationally, and move to the next focus. Progress is not total immunization of our quirks, but it is less demonization for how we work. Our brains - they want to help us survive. The brain gets confused among irrational thoughts and can jump and put us in an emotional turmoil jeopardy. But, be kind to yourself. Be kind to the "miswires" in your brain - because it cares for you and wants you to survive. Strive. What does progress look like? I'm not sure if I can see mine - I'm not sure what it totally looks like. But, maybe, look in a mirror. See yourself - the reflection of desire. Aspire to be who you are, judgement free. In a sort of clarity, you can see. Ask yourself:
"What does progress look like?"
It looks a bit like you.
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 9:02 PM UTC
They say money is time
but technically time does not exist
so we need to make money
because time is what we make it
but money is power too
because to make money takes time
which we do not like to spend
so people who crave it quick turn to crime
but money is freedom
giving us time to do with what we wish
the power of choice
the ability to switch
but money is material you say?
simply paper?
real life is spiritual ay?
well see if a smile pays the bills
regardless of what you think
accept that money is a choice
and realize no one listens
to the man without a voice
So deface it if you will
belittle it if you want
but money is microphone
although I am no savant
I know money is money
and not much else
so treat it as such
and save yourself
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 7:54 PM UTC
Grotesque in form shocking to behold
Visceral repulsion, masked, not told
Ignorance beguiles the mind away
Perceptive eye dumb to self display
Casting light towards looking glass
Defines reflection as being crass
A subtle inkling would forever deface
The stalwart faith in beauties embrace
Dec 31, 2011
Dec 31, 2011 at 3:47 PM UTC
He was a man
A lizard
The one that crawls out of its skin
Camouflaging ‘till it’s sweating the rocks
Keen on what it wants, what it feels
That very moment
Is all that matters, all that fills
Him
His fibs
were a well-tailored fit
But he bit his own head off too often
and stood empty
Like a wishing well
or an abyss,
The pit in which I threw my dreams in
But he couldn’t fit the sentiment
Wishes were demands that bared the skeleton
Their little mouths crunching
and talking to him
He calcified his judgement to acquit the fugitive
And he blowtorched my size, my wit
Until he could no longer
speak of it
or enjoy it
I had been burning for days
Up until the day he palpated the shame
Of the impulse, of the way
a man could perfect his death
Behind the mountain of skin, undressed
the tongue was hissing in his pit
I sat him on the chair, roped to one question
Why did you do it
And if guilt is the sharpest
tool to deface him,
the man
couldn’t look at me
A mallard too limp to admit
his interests were monotypic,
only equipped
to fit his own ****
I should have de-plucked it
Drained and throat-hung it
For the many nights
I made love to a liar
But, I let him keep all of his fingers
so the man
may continue
******* himself
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 11:10 PM UTC
Disgusted now that America is busted
For voting in sewer rats and gone to bat
For making this into an autocracy,
Working to gut democracy and replace it,
Deface and deforest all of the best
Then sell off the rest of the planet
From the water to the granite
Leaving only inedible gold
Shoved into the the wallets
Of the national pickpockets
And liars while they set fires
And burn down the country
With their hatred and bigotry
Unchecked by the lazy populace
Too stupid to know what danger is
While it is marching into their homes
Making every state a danger zone.
The traitors who own the industries
Hold a gun to journalist monopolies
So that artificial realities are sold
As socialized necessities
To people who prefer tabloids
To history books and crave bromides
For this time it is the Christians
That fiddle while Rome turns to ruins
And ashes surrounded by those who fought
While a complacent half of America did not.
I am sickened at the laziness,
The political father of craziness
Has let this horror happen to this,
The country of which I was always proud,
And sick of how loud the rats are
That they have taken destruction so far
That we may never recover again
And start to elect countrymen
Instead of men to own the country
Without a scintilla of modesty
And treat fine people shoddily
Merely because they can.
Who needs that kind of man?
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 6:30 PM UTC
The fearful varmint that claws at your callous origin
Caused a ceaseless chain of nightmares
A simple faux pas contrives a generation of idiocy
The toes of a screaming infant dwindling in our wake
Loyalty had not yet bared a face of existence
Atonement was never a question but a riddle
Heed your forthcoming capers
For they just may deface you
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 10:55 PM UTC
Sing me a song, o’ muse Calliope,
that in the summer solstice music
does release, wave upon wave of glory,
joy, and harmony, that with smooth lyric
this uneven heart might embrace
the golden summers dawn, that kisses
the newborn day, and nothing shall deface
this my radiant summers bloom.
Feb 17, 2012
Feb 17, 2012 at 12:11 AM UTC
To be abnormal in a normal world, is that so uncool? How about to be unjust in an unjust world? Surely then yes, for I am a fool. Not a fool so cruel, but a fool too cool to abide by societies rules. You see, it is the nature of man to be just as unjust as the unjust world, just as must as it is to be a fool, but not a foolish fool. Now you, you are a tool, for living the just life in an unjust world. You are the tool and I am the Utilitarian, and will use you to my advantage and private interests. That’s just how things go here in this structured place, meant to deface and interface yourself. Desensitize you to yourself; reduce yourself to a cheap exploitative commodity; a means for my planned robbery laid near a veneer of parliament armory. Society rules by the Golden Rule, and that is: Those with the gold are those who rule! Now who is the fool you tool?!
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 6:06 PM UTC