"defensively" poems
I was raised in the wild
With all the defiled
So my mood was mild
While bodies were piled
I was a lonely coyote
The other creatures didn't know me
Because I slinked in the shade
To avoid their detection
Loneliness is what I had to trade
To pass their inspection
Other animals couldn't brave the weather
Or their fragile arteries were severed
They laid there dead
I wondered if they ever lived
It went to my head
What this world can give
I saw the buzzards
Ring their buzzers
Then the maggots fed on their brain
While not understanding their pain
These images did me no good
While I was stuck in the woods
And I couldn't see the forest through the trees
I was lost
If I didn't find a home by winter I would freeze
In the frost
I tried to find a home in hollowed trees
But I was chased out by a bunch of bees
And the darkened caves
Seemed like shallow graves
When that's where bats play
But peaceful open meadows
Left me susceptible to attack
Everything seemed mellow
So I had to watch my back
Winter was approaching
And I saw no solutions
The cold air encroaching
Like frigid pollution
But my shady luck shifted
Once I was graciously gifted
A powerful and majestic horse
That put me on a better course
I ride the steed with a leather saddle
Made of skin stripped off simple cattle
It took the strength of an ox
To hold down this fox
Yet my domestication
Calls for celebration
Because now I live in a house
Without having to hide like a mouse
I can strut like a peacock
With a bird of my flock
It's a form of animal husbandry
Because you're in love with me
I'm the insistent critter
From a different litter
That saw life wither
From damage inner
I was a raccoon digging through the trash
Now I'm a phoenix rising from the ash
You're an agricultural guy
So vultures circle the sky
Looking to harvest your bountiful crop
They must smell death underneath it
Their presence makes my heart drop
And all I want to do is defeat it
But even as they get near
You remain here
We stand together as scarecrows
In a defensively unified paired row
This is the delightful day
You end all my wild ways
And eliminate my suffering
With your animal husbandry
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
Talk incessantly.
Dwell on temporal affairs.
Ask friends for advice; ignore it.
Air out perceived problems constantly.
Respond defensively.
Never take criticism at face value.
Write off whoever won't humor you.
Accuse others of misunderstanding you.
Build your lifestyle on whims.
Presume entitlement to *** for "being nice".
Choose an inappropriate diet for your body.
Avoid personal responsibility.
Refuse to own your failures and errors.
Justify behaviors that create conflict.
Rationalize unfruitful thought and action at all cost.
Dismiss what contradicts your prejudices.
Compare yourself to Jesus.
Insist on your specialness.
Insist that others acknowledge it.
Don't communicate your expectations.
Blame others for your bad choices.
Fish for compliments.
Use sentiment to ply others.
Use sentiment to ply yourself.
Subject anyone to yourself
while the above applies to you.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
People always complain about political correctness
Unless it's something important to them
Then they expect you to use empathetic indirectness
As to not hurt the feelings of men
I'm a homosexual talking to a stranger
They don't detect this
They say ****** and unleash my anger
They don't expect this
They were expecting me to be socially correct
To their bigoted views
They can't handle it when their hatred reflects
And they're given their due
I can't ask for a simple date
Or mention anything about God
I can't ask for their ****** state
That would imply that they're flawed
Yet they say I'm easily offended
But their argument is upended
When there are many topics I must avoid
Or hedge around
Otherwise they will get easily annoyed
And wear a frown
People say Donald Trump is politically incorrect
But that's not true
He's a hateful piece of ****
People confuse that with political incorrectness
But if about half the people who vote are pieces of ****
Can that really be said to be incorrect?
The idea of the president being politically incorrect is absurd
By virtue of being elected his politics are being endorsed
And endorsement is what comprises political correctness
He may know nothing of governance or diplomacy
But he was correct when it came to politics
I live in a country where I can say pretty much whatever I want
And then everyone else can react however they want
To be angry at someone's reaction is its own political correctness
They're just mad it's not their own specific politics being adhered to
So when people mention political correctness I laugh
It's a defensively reflexive path
When they live an unexamined life
But then complain about their plight
They think they're hated because they're white
They think they're hated because they're right
I dislike them because they have low empathy
So I don't want to be near that
Because their hatred starts to enter me
When they call me a queer ***
Then they expect me to love it
But instead I tell them to shove it
They tell me I'm being politically correct
Maybe it's their own lives they should inspect
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 11:31 PM UTC
Sir/madam genderfluid, xe calls to me
****** heart bricked like a dead battery
news of fear hits xis soul
like an update from mom on your pornhub roll
we're all #1 now there's not much to dread
when good and God are everything including dead
Xe responds defensively to this misty accusation
a biracial silver tongue dry in xis mouth
shame brought to the soy-powered community,
Eye forgot, again, that unity isn't really unity
spoke the wrong hashviolence which proves xheir point -
off with its head & burn down the whole joint.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 8:55 AM UTC
This is a just war we’re fighting together
Somewhat of an accurate estimate of how we feel about each other
But still, we act naturally
Such a calm storm in the making
I mean, we are clearly confused, right?
I get that you’re simply defensively striking
Is there a random pattern here that I’m missing?
Or am I simply one of your deliberate mistakes?
It’s ok, I’ve come to a preliminary conclusion
Sweetheart we are the definition of typically unusual
And I will gladly confirm the rumor
Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 2:08 AM UTC
in my obliviousness
inadvertent and unintentional
some may say as usual
i disturbed a wasp nest
the heightened bombilation
an anger-pitched droning
unheard somehow
therefore unheeded
until that impolite *****
a warning sting
through t-shirt to torso
followed by a few more
in quick succession
set my legs moving
apologetically away
with hands raised
chastened and contrite
both in supplication
and in order to remove
the offending article
of clothing
the oversensitive wasp
having become trapped within
defensively stinging
as nature directs
to be honest
its overzealous instincts
began to feel
more like spite
than mere survival
Aug 24, 2023
Aug 24, 2023 at 11:52 AM UTC
we sit awaiting a tragedy
life goes up
life goes down
love is all around
surround me in safety
drown me with sincerity
love me excessively
guard me defensively
love me until eternity
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
Over casted skies, hughed faintly by these city lights,
power lines and treetops, distract the view, but not quite.
Just enough to see, beyond houses and horizon,
this sadly painted sky, it is not colored with the season.
I look into your eyes, there's a hint there's something not right,
eyeliner and makeup, slightly covers up the hindsight,
But thru it I can see, beyond the smiles and the reason,
Its look inside your eyes, it's as though I do not please them.
Trees waving in the wind, changing course throughout the evening,
like the calm before a storm, mother natures heavy breathing.
Then rain begins to pour, ions crashing from the ground,
brightly lighting up the scene, with a devastating sound.
Words flying thru the air, given alternating meaning,
defensively we scorn, imply intentions so deceiving,
within we become torn, as hearts lost cannot be found,
why can't our love be free, without these tensions all around..
Dawn turns to morn, as the birds begin to sing,
And the night of the storm, had ended violently,
Branches and leafs scattered in the flooded field,
It's a night to remember, new beginnings can rebuild.
Sep 26, 2011
Sep 26, 2011 at 10:09 AM UTC
I was a dreamer content with all my blessings
Striving for perfection; wishing my life away
I lived inside of lala land and flew into the sun
I drove towards high ambition but steered with blind hesitation
Always second guessing cupid's arrow with a microscope
Like a pessimist on a soap box, defensively corrupt
I was bleeding my soul out onto invisible horizontal lines
Crying out for that someone who had once stabbed me in the dark
Blaming all my issues on things I can't take back
I don't know why or what kept me so amused with trouble
Something in the heat of danger keeps me satisfied
You were different
Something difficult but interesting
Calm and collective
Someone I could never be
You were a wayward child running from the truth
Just looking for an escape or just another muse to keep you entertained
You were filled with the chase of recklessness
I was filled with light of faith
I was uptight at somedays, but you let time lead you astray
And the peak of the adrenaline keeps you stimulated just barely enough...
Just enough to keep you coming back for seconds
Just enough to sugar coat your stomach
Just enough to keep you smiling on the edge who knows what
You needed something to keep your eyes from rolling in and out of sleep
You were used to the sour aftertaste broken promises and lies
I was highlighting the ultimate and envying the game
I was use to disappointments and devouring the pain of the unforgivable
But I was challenging and you admired it
We were opposite like Mercury and Neptune
But all those underestimated ingredients are what makes the dancing possible
As we Tango past the moon and we Foxtrot across the stars
I pirouette through all the difficulties and we fall back into reality
And you catch me here on planet earth
Right back to the beginning, where it feels like home
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 10:18 AM UTC
Like a gentle and beautiful rose sprung out of the soil
pure and innocent like the first snow nothing it can spoil
but yet jagged and thorned defensively, a true nature's toil
Spreading up towards the sky for the feeble sunlight
closing up every night when the cold comes oh so tight
but seems so untouched and pure like without plight
Love is like a rose having it's thorns but yet it's temptation
many fall fools to the beautiful and pure creation
but few are willing to withstand when it brings damnation
Love isn't just beautiful pedals or ever so green thorns
false love you fall a fool for and can't handle to grab the horns
true love is when you with pride wear that crown of thorns
True love is when you're not afraid of petty thorns, you grab them and hold on until you bleed out and prove that you are worth feeling love.
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 4:23 PM UTC
I've always thought that there should be
A change in personality
At that time of year when the holidays come 'round.
There is a change that I observe
In parking lots as people swerve
Around each other to get a spot they've found
They swear, they scream they go insane
In cars with kids they yell out names
names that'd make a life-long sailor blush
their faces red, they pound the wheel
with two arms flailing and fist of steel
shopping in a frantic blur and rush
Then done they speed out in the night
causing other drivers to pause with fright
going home to dinner with family and friends
They all sit down and raise a glass
asking peace and harmony to last
and beg for prosperity that never ends
please bless these folks who have no clue
or think a smidge of what they do
and take your shopping trips defensively
For they know not that when they bluster
it's all the self control we can muster
not to laugh so hard at them we can not see.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 8:33 AM UTC
Granted with solitude
Becoming too familiar,
I sank into crinkled sheets and sobbed
While Loneliness hovered,
Lingered,
Embodied and so absolute
That its shadow projected on the gaps
Between aging artwork on my wall,
Having the impression of a spider I once knew,
Who was weaving along those very gaps
Its own artwork,
Which too would have aged,
Had I not taken its life with a dusty tissue box -
A memory like a cloudburst over my heart,
Flooding its hollow chambers with regret:
If only I had kept that spider around,
Perhaps by now it would be calling this house its web,
It would have multiplied
Blessing me with generations of natural listeners -
For I would speak my mind
And they would skillfully translate
Each vibration from my mouth -
I would see my thoughts reflected in their webs.
Why did I insist on killing?
Defensively I announce, "I am fearful
Of its poison!"
But that is no justification
For I have witnessed such poisonous Love
...
And the way it would have
Hurried along my flesh
Could have very well been the same.
Whether poisonous or affectionate,
A spider's company
Is better than none.
Shamefully, I stare at a wall
That bares no such creature,
But the shadow, rather, of Misery's lover
Who will never feel this exhausting solitude
For Loneliness is never lone
So long as I am Misery.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 2:09 AM UTC
The words are uttered, lightly, the thought remains the same
They address all the problems, a redirect of shame
The words are used defensively, they can be from me, or you
They won't deliver answers, only useless things to do
The words express frustration, they do not bend, or break
They will not be revoked, there is no worthy stake
The words are spoken often, at work, and where we pray
"We really cannot change it, it's always been this way"
There is never any recourse, no one, an authored claim
The faithful follow stricture, and will not bear the blame
If the world were oh so simple, if the world was fair, or sane
Then all the uttered truths, would, no character defame
But we dwell within reality, where cursed are those who speak
Of work that needs be done, of plugging the constant leak
Futility is naught, the seeking of wrongs to fight
It's the finding, in the end, it will not to be, made right
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 3:12 PM UTC
Unsolicited entry into my memory
Fogs my abilities to create imagery
So I am left with invisible feelings
To reciprocate my infinite energy
Faith, Love and Understanding is readily
Available to you if you are listening
Trying to explain excitement indefinitely
Is indeterminably an impossibility
So close your eyes, and feel the synergy
Between pure heart and this reality of impurity
Hold tightly to cure the anomaly
That has grown outside the soul defensively
Breathing deep is the first of many keys
To let you inside your own intricacies
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 4:18 PM UTC
Hear the motions of the engines,
Speed South to North,
As well North to South,
Care not they, the sounds they make.
It is a confession.
They speed in the land of ****
It increases, then decreases,
As they travel past, the open window,
Winterless blast, a confession,
It feels close to spring.
Care not a bit that sounds, rude, to those who tomorrow,
Will wake up to snow, while the blizzard sounds here,
Are the rush of thoughtless trucks and cars,
Which are driven at speeds above the posted limit,
Even if they don't have to travel so far,
To get home in the drizzle, to their green grass.
Maybe snow would slow them down,
Or keep them off the road entirely,
No, no, not them, they are rude,
They have this attitude,
Drive like this, no matter what the weather,
They are better than the conditions, they drive in.
Another confession, they are in it to win, and no one
else knows there is a contest and contestants.
What a surPrize!
Hand him a sextant as he drives at night, after all he has to navigate,
Through Facebook and Likes and texts and bytes of downloads from
YouTube...would not want to be fashionably late in reply otherwise
Your social life, and status,
may die.
Trafficking bad habits,
Instead of "look out for the other guy or gal"
The phone and the life it holds,
can be dropped,
"worse than a dropped call",
is all the sirens wail as they go by,
Life in the balance, ghosts
White knuckling it with one hand,
While eyes are fixed, to a deathly white screen
And fingers dance solo in some sexless act,
The result is the same a distracted fact,
The mind is no longer in the car,
It has left the body already,
Waiting for it to die,
Watching from above and reaching to all
Who have fingers and a phone
Wanting to be ghosts and sticking to the life,
Which will make it happen.....by accident.
Drive defensively,
Leave your phone in the trunk.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
We're at a hospital emergency room - no emergency for us, my mom's a doctor and she's consulting about something. It's 4 pm on a Wednesday - after school. I'm in the waiting room - playing chess on my iPhone. I hate standing around in hospital areas with my parents (both doctors) listening to endless medical-trade jargon.
The ER room is almost empty. A wino-junkie-looking guy comes in and sits across from me about two seats down to the left. I'm ignoring him, for the most part, but he's all shaky and his fidgeting draws my eye now and then.
After a couple of minutes, I think he's watching me.
Yep, he's pretty much staring at me, shaking, tapping his right heal like he’s sending Morris code to the aliens and wiping his mouth with a ball of toilet paper.
And NOW we've made eye contact - he smiles - two or three of his front teeth are missing. I return my eyes to my phone and try to concentrate on my game.
But he's staring at me, I can feel it.
I put my phone in my lap and look at him for a moment. What sad humanity.
His head is sort of nodding - like "I see you seeing me" with a slight grin.
"Why do you do it?" I ask, in a quiet voice, sitting up a little straighter.
His head bobs backwards in surprise - "Do what?" he slurs innocently.
I roll my eyes, to say, ok, never mind and start to bring up my phone.
"I just like it", he says, with a little wheeze and a touch of attitude. "Better than anything else"
I nod, to say "OK" Then after a second I go back to my game.
My mom comes out a couple of minutes later and naturally, I get up to leave with her. I pause and look back at the.. ***
"Good luck", I say,
He sort of half waves
My mom holds up her hand a little to encourage me to come on with her.
As we go through the automatic glass doors she gives me the side-eye.
"He IS a person", I say defensively.
Three beats later, we both say, at the exact same time, "A ******* UP person!"
"Jinx!!" I say a millisecond before her. I give a savage fist-pump-of-victory.
"I want Ice cream" I say.
We both grin as the car unlocks.
Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 2:27 PM UTC
he conveyed an exterior
tough as a nut
layered as an onion
sharp as a knife
tattooed like a gallery
hidden emotion displayed
across the canvas of a body
scarred by conflict
battered by life
he walked defensively
decisively
a single minded direction
where to go
what to do
pushing through crowds
politely
though no one dared
challenge him
Oct 29, 2021
Oct 29, 2021 at 10:13 PM UTC
I could hear them
They were soft yet terrifying susurrant voices dancing around in the vacant white walled room. Creating the feeling of intensity
So much that it felt like it was breathing down my neck making me quiver
And no matter how hard I tried I had no power to fight back defensively
Exhausted all my strength to forget the bad, desperate to leave the past in the past
Regret took on a whole new meaning,
My life revolved around it and regret became me
I became it
I no longer owned my thoughts, and at night my mind stopped playing its old sweet dreams
Instead I had nightmares, every night i was weary
Voluntarily turned into an insomniac because of fear
The voices seem to be less distant no longer a whisper
Getting louder, a ringing in my ears
This life isn’t mine and it never was
I was brought up learning that you reap what you sow
And knowing that brought me down as low as my emotional regret could go
Controlled by the bad and then the good
Whats done is done, this is what I choose to become
So I painfully let fate take it’s course
As I so rightly should.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 9:35 AM UTC
Wakeful and aware of my feet against the floor,
Alive in a vast labyrinth of precious tomes,
their pages soft beneath my fingertips,
Their covers defensively misleading.
How beautiful, really, to be able to read them,
Be it a chapter, a page, or even a few lines.
Reading deep into precious texts
that don’t know they’re being read.
Unaware of the stories, written out in neurons, told through fluttered lashes,
And the twitch of a nose,
Pictures painted by the wide sweeping motions of searching irises,
blind to their own vibrant illustrations.
Each story searches for its conclusion
within the pages of another,
Trying to navigate itself through an index
That is not its own.
Perhaps someday I’ll find such beauty in my own weathered pages,
when my spine has split and my text has faded,
When I am a complete person built of indented paragraphs,
an entire soul typed out in times new roman.
Jan 8, 2021
Jan 8, 2021 at 12:26 PM UTC
"That's not,"
matt was yelling
"your water,
ron!"
from behind my back.
"This is my
lawn,"
ron replied defensively
as i looked
down at
the ants building
"Yea, that's your
lawn, but it's,"
an empire under the
sidewalk.
"not your spigot!"
i looked up
"I don't take orders
from you!"
to see the clouds in
"Okay, but that's,"
the sky. they were
"not your water, ron!"
flat and streaking
across the
"YOU AREN'T THE BOSS,"
sky tonight.
"OF
ME,
MATT!"
i could hear
"RON, STOP USING THAT,"
the sounds of
"SPIGOT! IT ISN'T
YOURS! YOURS IS,"
traffic bustling to
"OVER THERE!
THAT IS NOT YOUR,"
and fro
out on
"WATER!!"
third
"YOU AREN'T THE,"
street.
"BOSS OF,"
i turned to walk inside
"**ME!!!
!!!**"
and am confronted with images of recruits for the Phillippine army being slapped and punched on the television i left on so it could entertain itself because it was making me too sick to keep trying to quit smoking.
What a strange universe
i have found myself in,
i can't wait to
leave it
behind.
Jul 29, 2010
Jul 29, 2010 at 10:05 PM UTC
Under the cover of night,
A savagery blossoms in everyone,
Thriving in the privacy of darkened corners
And behind locked doors.
Inhibitions are lost,
And veils removed,
And the arching,
Writhing,
Wild things emerge.
There is one exception,
A predator that sinks into the shadows
And observes.
One who calculates every movement,
And plans,
Meticulously,
How to create the perfect night.
As the moon inches closer to the horizon,
And the purple of the dawn
Begins to rise,
The predator manipulates her prey into the necessary positions,
Guiding them into the right movements,
To say the right things,
Punishing,
And rewarding,
For following her rules.
“Sometimes I wish that I were like the other
Animaux de noir
So that I could release myself,
Instead of cinch
And draw in
Defensively.
But meticulousness is all I know
And to design
Carefully
Methodically
Does not keep one warm.
I must plot every second,
Every reaction,
And list the rules for my prey.
Take away their sight
Their speech
Their movement,
And once they know the isolation of the sensation of touch
Without control,
Without authority,
They may earn them back,
One by one,
Until they can give me a definitive answer.
What is it that you want?
What do you need the most?
What do you want to do first?
And what will you do last?
Predictably,
They plead to give me what I already knew they would give,
To do the things that all before them have done,
Because they are puppets,
They’re easy,
They’re all ****** to be the same,
And I,
Night after night,
Will remain
Just as meticulous.”
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 10:02 PM UTC
Never Alone
It has always been to show your open palms was a sign of peace how much we need it today when there
Is such cruel and destructive behavior and there is another instance of the palms having special meaning
It always been the bane of human kind as they say you could be in a large crowd and still be quiet alone
In fact the theme of this piece will talk about our very existence comes from the fact we were made
Because God was lonely so from empty longing and resident power that could do something about his
Reality he knelt down and from the basic of material he created and started the great wave of human
Kind as can be expected He would know what would continue to trouble and haunt his great work so he
Included this in His word a bedrock foundational statement firstly never will I leave you alone secondly I
Have engraved you on my palms and your walls will always be before me so in all that makes up the
World at in the best there is at times great chaos but with the wind of trouble at a fever pitch stop and
Look and see where you are your place is tucked away in the mightiest fortress of all in the very palms of
God silence the voice that says I am alone unknown and unloved the headwaters where any and all love
Originates has you personally fixed he that cannot die or lie has you bound to him if your mother would
Forget you He says I will take you up you are mine no one can take you from me only you can break this
Unending boundless love we were giving a mind use it as it should be defensively in times of isolation
Bring to bear reason the gateway into the kingdom that is not of this world and does not pass away you
Mean everything to Him you were bought with a great price let yourself be carried away by this mighty
Swell bound on the wings of love there isn’t anything you can’t surmount even death holds no fear for
You it is just a step from limitation to boundless infinity founded on the pure foundation of love that is
Endless
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 6:47 PM UTC
I am wearing a ***** shirt,
It is crumpled and twice worn before
On days when laughter echoed the halls
Of aorta and vena cava,
But the sound curdled and went stale
As entropy ran through veins,
As my name rang in your ear,
The animosity grew in your cold stare.
I am wearing odd socks.
I haven’t found a partner,
Nor do I understand the use
Of matching two things the same.
If I were in love with the mirror
Then I should just wear one sock,
Let my sock’s noose sink into my supple skin
And slowly cut my ankle.
I haven’t washed my tie
In the entire time I have owned it,
Or the time it has owned me,
I feel the ***** cotton, wrapped
Tight around my neck-
Binding my words,
Suffocating my suffixes,
And the most heavenly of words have bruises…
The whitest of silken beds,
Was marred with blood
Before it was clad in armour,
Now nothing can harm her.
Nothing gets in..
The covers are not warm
And nobody sleeps there.
Less of a bed now,
Thinks defensively, now.
The colour begins to fade.
Ethereal façade
I don’t leave my door open anymore,
Darkness crept in
And I don’t dare let it out.
I have grown fond of the colour,
Or lack of it.
Personal pronouns-
The more I use the word ‘I’,
The less fond I become of it.
Aug 28, 2019
Aug 28, 2019 at 4:56 PM UTC
your eyes quietly invade mine
i defensively avert my eyes, only to be disarmed by your smile
i laugh in spite of myself
for there is no place that you cautiously inhabit
that is safe for me to look upon
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 2:30 AM UTC