"defect" poems
once there was some self respect,now, life is control by drug useing interlect.taking all selflove aspect.turning you into a reject, forgeting pain so quick is incorrect truly a drug user defect.
Mar 12, 2011
Mar 12, 2011 at 3:36 AM UTC
Ruler of beauty
Grace as a dove
Thy name Aphrodite
Goddess of love
Power to sway
Thy lustful mind
Ability to lure
Man of every kind
Appealing charm
Equal summers rose
Thou pleasant aroma
Could make all man doze
****** attraction
Alludes all thy wants
Goddess so elegant
Created thy flaunts
One defect slays
Aphrodite soul within
Profound jealousy for
Psyche thy alleged twin
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
It must be buried under the skin,
what makes your body tremble.
What makes your taste consistent,
just here for me to use.
You came on bended broken knees,
spread on top of a rustled bed.
You left with empty breaths,
blushing sweat, and blends of regret.
Your smile speaks so well of you,
but your dignity hides it under covers.
With a twinkle in your eye,
and a flicker of your smile.
Gave me battered pleas,
just to have you pleased.
Crude interpretation of sounds and breaths,
Legs loose with a rug dress.
Working record rhythms of nervous lips,
heavy syllables swaying off those hips.
Your hands and wrists like chords,
pressed around my skull and neck,
mangling hair and skin with defect.
And that?
That is the steadfast scar I have,
from loving you.
Although love doesn't pass through here anymore.
May 20, 2011
May 20, 2011 at 8:34 PM UTC
Disclaimer: I did this as a creative rewrite for one of my university lit courses, and all the inspiration and quotes belong to Robert Browning the original writer of "My Last Duchess"
HIS LAST DUCHESS
ARRIVEDERCI
_“That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive.”_ (I’m not)
Alas! Me, “a wonder.” He calls.
Now wretchedly refined and pasteurized.
To be consumed, now, for genteel eyes.
Pity! Should you ever see me roll mine.
Behind those curtains, you might have been surprised
To see my countenance whimpering
At you Sir; and seething, at _Him._
Must you not be fooled by that sickly decorum
Upon which his manly pride resides.
The Duke—what rich talent in envy he has,
And of pithy idiosyncrasies! Pardon me now
As I speak of his infamies: Is it not,
Too preposterous of a Duke, to sulk
And take offense, over a blush?
(As if the blush was his to wield and shun.)
Am I not allowed to flush _at all?_
And must I be ashamed of being swooned
By the casual offers of life’s grandiosities?
Each and every, dropping of the daylight,
Ripen cherries in May and chivalrous gentlemen,
my dear white mule; must I then weep
at them all, only to prove my fancy for him.
And when does gracious gratitude itself
become in vain: a finite honour—
deemed excessive elsewhere?
Never had he plucked me out, for censure,
Before he gave commands, I knew he did
To pluck the smile out of my face.
Utterly clueless—he thought I was
To find myself throttled, for immodesty.
A wife, an appendage to a Duke,
Loosely felled, to stroke a green-eyed ego.
My fault it seems, is a mere generosity
Of affection: falsely opined, if not
Misread, to fare a defect of temperament,
A chronic malady, doth be cured by death.
To cement the farce he will, soon, bring you
Downstairs to meet a friend. (a fiend)
A prized possession: Neptune, taming a sea-horse.
His hubris incarnate, cast in bronze.
But you must know the truth, for the sea-horse
Did not perish for naught, she is freed from him
At last.
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
I hadn't cried in years.
I was always taught that strength
was not having the courage to let yourself feel but
******* it up, holding it in.
I am sick of "You're going soft on us, honey"
Today I came to understand that
you are completely okay with writing the same poem
over and over again.
This is a metaphor for the way you ****** her in my bed.
This is a metaphor for the night you copy and pasted love letters.
This is a metaphor for what really happened-
I never fall in the same place twice.
Except when I do.
I think the critical difference between the two of us,
critical because there are many differences
but- I think our hamartia, our fatal flaw,
our end scene is this:
if people didn't like my poetry, if nobody listened,
if I walked out on stage and nobody snapped their
fingers, I would still write for just your eyes.
I would still cramp my crooked, birth defect,
quadruple jointed fingers writing to you about the nights
you loved me back,
for a minute there you loved me back.
And you loved 20,000 other people back.
And you loved small towns back and big cities back and the entire west coast
back when you drove through, making temporary homes out of people
who should have been permanent
and I loved you.
And I hadn't cried in years.
Not because I wasn't sad, but because I was taught that showing emotion
was weakness.
So if my father made me memorize the How To's of strength,
if I were going by the book, today I'd be so fragile
you could say hello and I'd shatter so suddenly you'd
forget you were the one that let go.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
Stop trying to be perfect,
There's no reason to be worried
Everybody has a defect,
Everybody is a bit stupid.
Stop listening to those people
Who say you're not worth it,
They're just trying to hurt your soul,
Trying to **** your spirit.
Stop hiding your face
Under so much foundation,
Dark circles will not be erased,
It won't bring you admiration...
Stop everything. Just live. Just love.
Do something you like to do,
It will become all you can think of.
Don't let anything stop you.
Smile, because life is amazing,
And because you want to be happy
Smile, just spread your wings,
And be who you want to be.
Think about all those people around you,
Who think you are special
Think that their love is so true,
And that's why life is magical.
You have so many things to live for,
Smile, because you want to be someone,
And because you want to do more
Smile, because you want to be a free man.
Smile. Life is beautiful.
Jul 19, 2011
Jul 19, 2011 at 4:17 AM UTC
Cursed to this life
Everything pre decided for me
My happy and sad
My hate my love
We’re all just displays of skin and bone
Most with no souls
Crying about their five dollar latte
What should I wear today
Release from our lips sin and beauty
The sickness and desire it is going to take me
Hearts cold as ice freeing me from these emotions that are destroying me
Impaling metal and plastic just another facet
New to you another defect I see
Deep down my heart is still beating wishing my blood was seeping
Oxygen in everything wishing it would leave me
Break my bones putting chemicals in my veins
Once forever but nevermore
I’m in a sea of green and blue
Wishing something would set me free
Only pain pushes me to maintain
Step into my shoes just look see for a minute
Just a warning you will never come back the same maybe insane
Gold dust coursing through me never allowing me to feel the pain
With blue lips please just poison me
Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 3:03 AM UTC
I guess I’m okay… What more can I say?
Forget it—never mind,
You wouldn’t understand anyway,
Would you even know what it's like?
Inside a scattered disconnected mind,
Employed to go on strike?
Where indirect misdirect
The sincerity at play,
When sinusoidal chaos spikes
And past meets the future present day?
As paranoid points outlandishly connect
At intervals of broken lines,
Memory lost in recollect,
An array of misshaped bells
Internally infect the eternal confines
Of infinite distributional decay,
Parallels with no intersect,
Streetwise cells with empty signs,
Burned out lights, potholes, and landmines,
Littered all the way.
How am I to convey that all those times
You let your mind wander away
That I was reading, thinking, dreaming,
Teeming, never idle, never strayed,
Seeing, being, so far and away,
Even the brightest intellect beaming,
Could not grasp the feeling
In the slightest of highest orders reeling,
Wound unbound, or as it would be seeming,
Imperfect, even to the disarray
Of the tamest prefect, whose verdict
Could not predict the reflect,
For in this world, seeing is deceiving,
As the lamest reject, defect,
Increasingly decreasing,
In simplistic bliss obey
Crowned unsound fallacies
That contradict all meaning,
Hiding behind reality, the actualities
Lest, protect the thoughtlessness perceiving,
Let me stop you if I may...
I must interject for I digress,
What nonsense was I weaving?
Forget it—I've lost my mind,
I best be leaving,
What more can I say?
It's periodic I must confess,
You probably don't care anyway,
Yeah, yeah, I'll be okay,
Until next time I guess,
I wouldn't want to be misleading.
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
Dysphoria, what does it feel like?
They sigh, trying to find a single sentence for years of caged silence.
Identity: Female
Stuck in the wrong way
To me it’s a sense of nothing will ever be right
The feeling of being in extreme danger
Like you’re about to die
Identity: Male
All I can say is
This isn’t me
The feeling is a long and windy explanation of
Disassociation
There are things about me that I don’t associate with myself
And it’s weird and confusing
When I become aware of them
Identity: **** A drag queen? Trans fluid.
Dysphoria...
It's a lot like,
Anger,
Betrayal,
An itch
Like a really itchy sweater,
You can’t take it off
And the longer you have to wear it the worse it gets
You start to hate yourself because
You’re the one that put the sweater on in the first place
They say we are ill
Broken
******
***
“Butch”
It’s not correct
When they say it’s their right to say those
That’s when I get mad
If there is no way to make the mind conform to the body
You must make the body conform to the mind
If they think it’s their right to tell other people that their identity is wrong,
Then they are ill and broken
They have no f**king clue
And I know,
I can’t tell them they’re wrong
Without telling them why
But I realize
Explaining this is futile
With closed minded people
Bathrooms need to change, Health care needs to change, Identification needs to change
People are forced to “pick one”
Trans-phobia shouldn’t be tolerated
Mental health care shouldn’t be because it’s a “defect”
Social pressure, Internalized oppression, Abuse,
Shouldn’t
Be
Tolerated
Politicians have got it the wrong way around
One in two transgender persons have experienced ****** assault
One. In. Two.
They say, “We don’t want men undercover spying on our women and children”
You think they are in there to spy or ****
Name more than two cases in the last 25 years
Where a transgender person has sexually abused a woman in the ladies bathroom
You can’t
But give me five minutes, and I can come up with five to eight names of transgender people
That have been assaulted in bathrooms since 2019 started
But our Pride cannot be destroyed
It’s our strength
A feeling of belonging
A belief that we can change this
We are not alone.
We Are Not Alone.
YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 5:27 PM UTC
dysphoria can be defined as a general unease or dissatisfaction, a discontent
but dysphoria
feels more like a disconnect
my heartbeat feels more like a defect
when it throbs against my shrinking ribcage I can feel that it's making a dent
dysphoria
comes from a greek root meaning "hard to bear"
it is hard to bear
**** it's hard to breathe
literally
physically
I cannot breathe
I cannot be free
dysphoria is when you have to close your eyes while you shower so you can't see
each breath shakes as it comes out of me
there is medical material clung so tightly to my body
it has become an extension of me
and nothing on me belongs to me
I am trapped beneath waves of what I can't stand to be
my body of water
feels more like an anchor
I am drowning
and you can tug at my spine but you cannot feel me
I cannot even feel me
I would do anything to make these ends meet
dysphoria grabs hastily
a current does not care your worth, it just pulls you under
dysphoria does not care if you deserve better
dysphoria is a disconnect
and I haven't found directions
to the end
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
I don't want to be perfect
What an incorrect prospect
I like my defect
At least I'm not an object
My eyes do not resemble suns
My words are more like guns
Aimed at your sons
I've only just begun
My hair is not soft and fine
You simply cannot define
Or enshrine
Standby and do not whine
My thoughts are not innocent and pure
Nothing is secure
But I am certainly not your saviour
My behaviour brings danger
I am not your entertainer
My hands are not are not flowers
I have different powers
Which devours and towers
Over your mouth as he cowers
Nature is not just beautiful
And neither am I
How dare you belittle it with unsuitable lies
Save your goodbyes
I am not your demise, that would be unwise
Do you not realise I have a disguise?
I am not perfect
Yet you could never recreate and resurrect my imperfections
Save your affections
I need to find my own directions, away from your infectious reflections
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 4:42 PM UTC
#
Forgiveness is
as forgiveness does
and I have fallen short
of breaking through
this family thing
this family, fling
This family hold
from days, of old
This family-fed,
smiling, waving
puss-pocket, ******
Head-in-the-sand
adrenal gland
Death-bonded hold
this fungus-laced mold
holding you down
by your choice to choose
Nothing, but them
And out of the ashes
reaches up a hand
that strangles the ************
aptly called
because his ******* of
your mother.. his daughter,
groomed her
to bathe her pure, firstborn daughter
in order to offer her, back to him
as a living, breathing sacrifice--
Pure.. Holy.. Blameless;
without spot, or defect to him,
the destroyer of worlds
but mostly, just yours --
his dearly, dearly Beloved.
#
May 22, 2021
May 22, 2021 at 6:16 PM UTC
That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair;
The ornament of beauty is suspect,
A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air.
So thou be good, slander doth but approve
Thy worth the greater being wooed of time,
For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
And thou present’st a pure unstainèd prime.
Thou hast passed by the ambush of young days,
Either not assailed, or victor being charged;
Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise,
To tie up envy, evermore enlarged.
If some suspect of ill masked not thy show,
Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe.
2.6k
I’ve recently developed a hypothesis
It’s crazier than the idea of an atheist
The truth is the hardest pill to swallow when it stings like a vaccination
So I’m dealing with the fact that my love may be broken
I’ve had a broken heart but those can be repaired
With time, effort and divine intervention
The fibers of the heart can be re-stitched together
But my love – my ability to love – seems to be destructive
When you care too much, you lose what you wanted most
I wanted you; so I said so
That worked like a poison, numbing your feelings for me
My love is like a broken boomerang
I throw it out with heartfelt emotions
Hoping and waiting for your love in return
But my love never comes back at all
It doesn’t even come back as a letter ‘returned to sender’
It simply died when it was on its way
Whether in your negligence or on the journey love take us on
My love died like a single drop of water in the desert
I wish I could figure out the enigma of love and the defect mine seems to have
My love is broken like a bird without her wings
Grounded against her nature and denied to possibilities of true life
My love is withering in my own heart – you can only love yourself so much
I was ready to give you all I am
But somewhere along the way I feel like my love is not only broken…
I tried another time to love another soul
My broken love had a heart attack and died in route to the grave
It wasn’t taken to a hospital because my love was a lost cause
Something unworthy of its name; love
My love was never seen as love by any other being
It was seen as infatuations or crushes that crushed life out of attraction
So now that my love is dead, what do I have to offer the world?
We all respond to lost love in our own way
I would fight until I had no breath or strength – then again
Maybe it’s not my love you need, or even want
That’s the trouble with loving you
I overstep, overlook and over-wish
My love was just too strong for it’s own good
Now I weep in the arctic for the faithless cruelty
An arctic that I call summer from the frozen tundra of my heart
Hell has frozen over – hell has become my heart
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 7:40 PM UTC
You've yet to mention the ghosts
in my corners, collecting like dust,
or the tree limbs chandeliered
over my bed to remind me
I'm not the only one with lost pieces.
If there's another word
for love, I've yet to hear it.
If there's another name
for happiness-- it's yours.
Looking at you is sunshine
seeping into my pores.
Vitamin D makes me feel
like who I should be,
not who I am.
This wasn't supposed to be
an apology, but I'm sorry.
Sorry for my cookie smile,
crumbling, for my atrial
septal defect, for clinging
to you like the freckles
on your elbows.
I'm sorry about a lot
of things, but you'll never
be one of them. What
I'm trying to say is
I love you
even on days I don't
know what love is.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
My encounter, although mistakingly enlightening
Leaves me more baffled than before.
Do my words inherit the glow, similar to my daydreaming movements?
As if they were prematurely made, a banner across my silhouette.
Attached before the words can escape my mouth.
I wonder tonight about the necessity of freedom of speech
Curious to understand the rate of which our minds have developed, or been manipulated.
Is it our human defect of guilt the thing that encourages us to open our mouths?
Merely to humor our lowly human selves.
But I fumble
As words escape my lips, and enter your mind,they cannot be translated.
You cannot read my genuine emotion, as the life and purpose is ****** out as they are inscribed across your palm
So I write, and I materialize these things before they are evaporated.
Yes, I am confusing, and I apologize if I am further misunderstood
But, , my friend, I do love you
Purely, true and eternally
Yet I cannot give you what you desire.
Newton was both right and wrong
Love cannot be created nor destroyed
This energy flows continuously, passed from friend to friend
youthfully and innocently as friendship is meant to be
But, what he did not consider was the love of truth and purity
Which in the end is no energy, as they would have us believe
This love is an essence, similar to that formed the blood flowing through our family
Yet has something more
This love I speak honestly of,
Is unselfish
Is no medal of achievement
It bestows upon you the drive to be the highest you
It is the essence for the creation of the one thing that they can never offer
True love, and true love of yourself.
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 3:00 PM UTC
Banality reins supreme
In our children’s dreams.
What do you expect
When principles defect
And brand names
Mark the scene,
When rock stars sell their souls
To executives in suits,
Make perfumes
From their dance room sweat
And wear expensive boots,
Then slap their name
On random ****
And sell how nice and cute
Their clothes look on baby girls
They know we can’t refute.
As if they write their music,
Or pen their awful hits,
******* souls for millions;
Tear integrity to bits.
When art is lost for money,
And the formula is the norm,
When thousands gyrate madly
To aural chloroform,
When children posture wildly
In photos with no shame
And send them to their idols
Who don’t care to carry blame,
When all we know is taken,
Corrupted and perverse,
And all our keen philanthropy
Is squeezed into a hearse,
When there’s nothing left
But adverts on our doors,
And mindless dancing robots
Falling to the floor,
Then we might just notice
How much we had to lose
When we turned our children loose
To tie up their own noose.
No matter how steep the cost,
There’s always room to climb
As soul-less music moguls
Wrangle for a dime.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
I want to tell you a secret
how toxic love take over your body
through the touch of my hand
it is my specialty
make my touch makes your heart of love
you fascinated
you fall in love
and you will obey all the things that I want
but it did not work my magic touch
if I do not touch
so I can only touch you
through writing poetry
all my writing is
about how you're so perfect
no defect
and no sin
all my writing is
about how the human heart can
accommodate the taste of love
as deep as ocean
as high as the sky
measuring the universe
and all this is about you
and you say without my magic touch
you're still going to fall in love with me
because you love me for anything
because you loved my voice
like my voice like church bells echo
you love my writing
as if it is a bible that you read
you love me
because I am me
I love you
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
You're going on the highway,
Bringing a new 4-string bass guitar,
And a drum-set too for your sons.
Now you could be a family rock band,
You could churn your own Summer of '69,
The world will know you three now.
A really hot chick hitchhikes in your car,
You are tensed as your eyes meet.
There is unfathomable longing in hers,
And the bathykolpian woman's so inviting.
You can't play the good man at this age,
You decide to cheat your own wife now.
You stop the car quickly anyhow,
A quickee's on your mind & nothin' more.
She smiles at you and lunging towards her,
You smell the inviting scent of hers.
In middle of the kiss you start foreseeing,
You forsee a bright romantic future,
Suddenly her wellbeing's lost & she vomits.
Then you bring her to the hospital,
The gynaecologist congratulates you,
"Congrats! You're going to be a father!"
Taken aback, you say, "But I just met her!"
The girl who hitchhiked says, ***"He's ****** lying!"***
The doc summons the police and your test is done,
"Good news & bad news," the doc says,
"One, you're not her baby's father."
Hearing this you're relieved.
"Now the bad news, doc," you say.
The doc says, "You could have never have fathered any even if you intended to."
You are flabbergasted, "What the hell! Why?"
The doc pacifies, "Your load doesn't have any sperms,"
Seeing you shocked the doctor says,
***"It's a birth defect that happens rarely but yes it does..."
"...You may sue the girl for everything."***
The biggest shock in your life so far.
You just shake your head and turn around to go.
You're in the middle of a nightmare,
It couldn't be true!
***If not you then the 2 kids back home,
They belonged to whom!***
Now that's the biggest tension!
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 5:32 AM UTC
I'm going to try be less judgmental and more patient
Even though people say i'm not like that i want to completely rid of both of the negative traits
I want to be as close to pure as possible
Not the same as perfect
There will always be a defect
I want my love to infect
Every living soul
My goal here is simple
To make the world richer full of love and more vibrant then it ever was before.
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC
These pools that, though in forests, still reflect
The total sky almost without defect,
And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver,
Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone,
And yet not out by any brook or river,
But up by roots to bring dark foliage on.
The trees that have it in their pent-up buds
To darken nature and be summer woods—
Let them think twice before they use their powers
To blot out and drink up and sweep away
These flowery waters and these watery flowers
From snow that melted only yesterday.
2k
The sun, a blazing circle of celestial fire
Hangs low upon the horizon,
Its fiery glory reflecting orangely
On the wind-whipped, blue-green sea.
The late afternoon sees my love and I,
Arms and legs entwined, ******* naked on the beach,
Rapt in appreciation of that blest moment
When sun and sea join in mystic communion.
And yet, all is not golden:
When one mentions the word "legs"
Once is certainly grammatically correct, yet
One does not convey the true situation to the reader.
You see, my lover is the sad possessor
Of a fifty percent deficit in the podial department,
Whilst I have a full double complement.
And thus to so-called act of generation
(Most times mis-named, for which I thank the gods)
Is a feat requiring great dexterous equilibrium.
However, my love's club foot (speaking candidly,
An admitted visual defect most times)
Now comes to the rescue of Eros' urgent needs,
With the aid of a little mutual ingenuity.
Balancing carefully on my dear one's abbreviated podex,
Supported carefully by the discarded surgical boot,
A passable **** can usually be achieved.
Only the halitosis appears irremediable.
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 10:40 AM UTC
If you let this architect interject
My subject you'll dissect effectively correct
I'll try to make it clear
If you inspect or introspect with intellect these indirect
Pretentious scribbles misdirect
Collect your wits my dear
If you elect I'll be direct
No intended disrespect
I don't expect that you'll reject
A change of atmosphere
If you accept I won't defect you mustn't reflect this henpecked insects unchecked neglect
Tonight with luck I'll in fact infect
You with a grin from ear to ear
Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 7:35 PM UTC
im a shell of a lighter baby
not used for the flame but for the pretty picture on the side
im a scaled down turnaround mama
watch me do it again
im a defiant defect sister
you dont know the metaphor youre messing with
be my sidekick confidante
match my song and dance
pray for bread and butter
they never had a chance
entranced by all the little lines
anything for some piece of mind
im a knowitall grassfire honey
turned around by the wind
im an everloving choo choo train
believing the things you say
im a lost and broken soul sweetheart
give me tape or give me death
Dec 20, 2011
Dec 20, 2011 at 5:59 AM UTC