"deformation" poems
brain is lonely
wanting to just burst out of its shell
and show the world its potential
brain is scared
what if world denies brains offer
because brain is so confidential
brain wants peace
inside its world wars never end
and words are as powerful as bombs
brain is now numb
all the explosions dull the physical pain
yet brain has forgotten how to feel calm
brain is a convincing actor
always knowing how to play its part
in every passing situation
brain does not like acting
instead brain wants to be fluffy cotton ball
not moist squishy thought deformation
brain wants sleep
to be able to shut off at appropriate times
and have enough energy to even try
brain is sad
never getting enough of anything
and sometimes brain considers to die
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 1:00 AM UTC
Art heals the creator
like scar tissue, sealing
cracks of a broken past,
Red-raw against pale skin
For the world to see that
You're recovering whatnot,
Till time fades these wounds
To nothing
a little makeup can't hide,
So we blend back in, to
Where we never belonged,
An find our identity within
Public display of deformation,
Striped naked, to express self
awareness, no more gruesome
enough to repulse, nor normal
enough to ignore the silver line
Between trauma and wrinkle;
scars fade, not vanish, but
keep us together regardless.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 9:18 PM UTC
Water balloon organs make up my shape
Swelling with emotional fluids
forever amplifying, squishing together
My emotions are no longer separate
My maudlin heart rests its head
on the shoulder of my claustrophobic lungs
They breathe heavily in the intimacy
of such a dangerous seduction
They're panting like a canine in heat
it's such a perilous defeat
All of these water balloons
Swelling with emotional fluids
Lose their shape when stabbed
by your dagger fingers
by your dagger teeth
by your dagger tongue
by your dagger words
They're so filled with holes
and my fluids flow freely
mixing together in a scarlett sea
a potion of swelling emotion
You and your daggers
are attracted to deformation
which is why you think my swaying back
that keeps me from standing upright
is so ****
At least my suffering is ****
Not that I have anyone to be **** for anymore
Apr 4, 2012
Apr 4, 2012 at 9:54 PM UTC
Suffocate the broken fingers wrapped around umbilical chords
Engorged in egotistical monstrosity of deliverance
Wisdom of deformation in ribcage abortion
Captivity shackled to ***** out the nocturnal twilight of distinguished dawn
Scraped nails across the back of ****** proficiency
Scraped nails found in the brickwork
Fracture the amputated for authentication
Trust no one but the deceased
Apr 24, 2011
Apr 24, 2011 at 9:01 AM UTC
Water balloon organs make up my shape
Swelling with emotional fluids
forever amplifying, squishing together
My emotions are no longer separate
My maudlin heart rests its head
on the shoulder of my claustrophobic lungs
They breathe heavily in the intimacy
of such a dangerous seduction
They're panting like a canine in heat
it's such a perilous defeat
All of these water balloons
Swelling with emotional fluids
Lose their shape when stabbed
by your dagger fingers
by your dagger teeth
by your dagger tongue
by your dagger words
They're so filled with holes
and my fluids flow freely
mixing together in a scarlett sea
a potion of swelling emotion
You and your daggers
are attracted to deformation
which is why you think my swaying back
that keeps me from standing upright
is so ****
At least my suffering is ****
Not that I have anyone to be **** for anymore
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 1:19 AM UTC
the acrid unease of incence
emaciating the mind
hangs in the air at the edge of the forest
where the dew drops wither
the sorrows of the moon
where shaped and tailed eyes
pacified only
by a satisfaction of images
that buzz in frenzied movements
savored and perverse
strangle
in black, scarlet, white and pink
divergent parallels
the quantum connection of memory
listen to the deformation of silence
and tease the disunity of
attempted cohesive geometry
where nothing is heard
but strained articulated color
by shaped and tailed eyes
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 6:47 PM UTC
>Want a thing? Relax
>into a script to get a taste.
>Fetishes? or repressed natural inclination?
>Roll a D20 to feel better, take fun and make it killing,
>with just enough free will to make it interesting.
>Nothing else can become reality so in the universe we got
>in the cosmic lottery, calm down
>and have fun.
>Find the most effective deformation — BAM BAM
>SHOOT EM UP — and life is real. Over the top?
>Or so aware that art is less than or equal
>to life, so why settle for realism?
>Say something the way that no one else can say
>it. Maintain a state
>of relaxation by white knuckling your partner until you forget to breathe.
>Fetishize white men not being racists.
>Lay it all out for your audience
>whose uneducation cries out to be fixed
>by you
>and you alone.
>Reassure them
>you get it:
>art is hard,
>so I’m going
>to speak my subtext
>and spice things up
>with some choreography
>just to make sure
>you get what it is
>exactly
>that I’m trying
>to say,
>because god knows you wouldn’t get it otherwise.
>(And this way, people will finally understand you, and you will be complete, and you will be satisfied, and you will get everything you ever wanted, and you will ride fulfilled into the bright new day of artistic enlightenment you lucky sonuvabitch.)
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 8:39 PM UTC
We need others to play with us to not feel isolation,
We need to bring joy to others to feel elation,
We crack like delicate porcelain then be viewed as a deformation,
Our minds are more of an aberration,
As we yearn for someone's admiration,
We are viewed as objects by the nation,
We strive to look different by modification,
Ending up with falsification,
With envious glares acting as devaluation,
Although we are each marked by our own notation,
We submit to society's suffocation,
All in all we are the gods and demons dolls.
Artificial, pretend and above all,
just a recreation.
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 8:33 PM UTC
Many may discourage your noble ambition
But, due to that, drop not your great mission
To realize it, please develop superb for vision
Go ahead, as you have taken the best decision
It may appear silly when you give an expression
Regarding you goal that is tough for realization
But, if you make a truly marathon contribution
To overcome it, the goal will give sure permission
While pursuing your goal, have no trepidation
Sudden losses will occur to give intimidation
Never allow your goal to suffer dilapidation
Carry on with hope, trust and truest devotion
In respect of your goal, gather all the information
Regarding your hope, give to yourself confirmation
Allow optimism in mind for real faith's formation
Let not your goal suffer at any time deformation
Impossible tasks are finished using great dedication
What is required for achievement is application
Never stop having with God holy communication
Anything is possible through God's benediction.
mvvenkataraman
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
subhuman.
desolation.
desolation.
discrimination.
distribution
It's nothing but a everlasting dynamo.
Powered by anger and rage
it will never cease to turn.
Spawning
the hatred that has conquered our race.
Overcoming
the mutual love that has seeped through the cracks.
Defecating
the morals of those immoral.
Foundations
that our fathers built
have been destroyed.
Killing
the dream that
is now a nightmare.
Suffocating
the choices that define us.
Abandoning
all hope, ye who enter here.
Deformation
of the unborn child.
God.
Heaven.
Hell.
Earth.
Nature.
You.
Me.
Them.
All of us.
We're all the same.
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 6:34 PM UTC
I believe in the match, white phosphorus,
scratch of Bic lighter spurting like a miniature sun
in the deadpan havoc of the darkest night.
I believe in the neon sign, blare of argon
red like lava. The invitation to come inside a place
where everyone is a saint in rehabilitation.
I do not believe in a steeple. I do have a church:
it is full of cripples carrying their hearts like a crutch.
It is full of ***** fingernails, swollen thumbs,
epileptic prayer circles, a choir of bums, riff-raff,
pulled off the street into the warmth of this fiery song.
We are all martyrs burning, like pyres, exploding
in moments of sorrow like gunpowder. God is not
in this church. We are too far from his icy heaven to hear
the cold menace of his manic threats. We are aflame,
making heaven out of the hells we were born into,
the ones we had no choice but to carry like a deformation,
but making our heavens the kind where work is.
We have built heaven out of pillars of words. We
have scorched even the newest of testaments, sifting
through its ash to divine new meaning of resurrection.
I do not believe heaven or hell are nouns. I do not
believe they are adjectives. They are verbs! ******* it
they are verbs: boiling or churning with photographs
of every failure, every success, every bruised knee,
every severed tie, every father that did not love us,
every mother who could not save us, every lover who
kissed the dark sides of our light hearts. I believe
you make heaven, that you make hell. I believe in
only the fire, crackling like skin molting from sunburn.
I want only to be consumed. The world is too far ruined
to douse this from me. Let me burn. If you look closely,
there are doves in the smoke, my bones glowing branches.
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 12:57 PM UTC
high school days I won't forget
all that nights I do regret
spent that time
on tasks and tests
Ignoring all
my cousins and friends
A teacher says tomorrow
another says today
one more exam
won't hurt a way
they teach us
what to be learnt
but in these subjects
you will never concentrate
Biology postulates
with some blood circulates
plus a little concentrate
never knew the simulates
stimulants , depressents
both are drugs components
they increase BAC
and i know my ABC
A doctor , I say?
oh no the other day
Chemistry is full of laws
with some words
I don't know
''Semipenmeable membrance''
haven't i told you so?
chemistry scientist
oh god no !!
i will pass
please go on
high school days
passes like slugs
on a traffic way
sounds not good
geology makes me regret
about all that time I spent
In one two pages my time split
just to know some folds and fualts
let me tell you
about salt domes
they go over
those rocky domes
but for me I don't care
because my hat
is over my hair
Deformation, am not so glad
don't want to know
more than that
Mathematic equations
flips my head
with rates of change
I am depressed
but in limits
I insist
about the sandwich theorem
I am impressed
tangent lines look so good
let's me know the slop, oh good
but an engineer
not that good.....
let me know
if you found my job
high school days
passes like hell
working all day
cramming all night
will my work
finally pay off
all that days
on tasks and tests
high school days
I don't know
if it's one last step
or one more slip ?!
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
Time devours this very moment
Her attention slips away from mine
Our conscious connection slips
Into a dreamscape of faded reason
The void between us fills with wasted life
Soon to be forgotten
The design has been altered
A deformation of will
An attempt to force chance
We embrace failure and cling to it
Simply put
We suffer because we care...
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 12:14 PM UTC
Once affirmation became deformation
aspirations turned into desperation
aspirations turned into exasperation
existence undocumented persistence expired
acumen undocumented the pittance expired
normal life forms a life
but nightmare world lights the world
dream journals adjourn dreams
through fantastic fantasies
of affirmation and affinity
or affirmation reaching infinity
so affirmation is gained at the expense of others
and affirmation is what we expect from others
but the affirmation comes at the cost of the abdication
of a firm nation inducing affirmation
selling being right
who's wrong is who's left
behind the hugfest in social unrest
the hugs infect becoming a test
to affirm what others choose
affirmation signaling their virtues
and if one doesn't affirm they'll sit and burn
which will affirm affirmation.
Please tell me I'm right.
Oct 8, 2022
Oct 8, 2022 at 10:02 PM UTC
Mirrors stand on trial.
As my reflection has become treason.
Iris' clawing itself out of their sockets.
Screaming for blindness.
This cannot be who I am up close.
This isn't who I am on the inside
As touch becomes apocalypse.
Finger tips shaving and ripping
romantic runs down a spine
into an escape from hell.
The monster, applauding my imagination.
All fears confirmed by reflection.
The monster is me, stalking to taking stage.
Every pulsing orifice oozing out reality,
bites and endures flesh.
Pieces of everyone I try to get close to
becomes food.
Leaving the gluttons pink-red and full.
No dimension displayed without cauterized scars.
Deformation of the mind and DNA
Playing jazz backwards as the big band
Scolds its tune from the inside
I can hear the power tools of natures orchestra.
Brackish change, Chimera's blushing to proposal.
This is my favorite song
And it ends with anxiety of a new face.
The mirror telling it all.
Clumps of hair,
Eyes in hands.
Festering humanity in fetal position begging for death
after birth.
Blowfly meals for two lovers, eaten alone.
God's hands in face peeking through her fingers.
Blood dripping from immortalities ugly head.
Tremors of night and knocks on the door.
Coagulating depression finally answers.
Come in.
This is what I am on the inside, up close.
Make a plate for your eyes.
Anxiety is on the menu.
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 12:13 PM UTC
I can't recall a time when I wasn't trying to be your perfect girl; earth's dazzling creation
I'd have you at hello, overflowing with infatuation
but this wouldn't fade away, it's an everlasting fixation
and I'd soak up your all love, praise, and abiding adoration.
Write about me honey, I'll be your inspiration
It's just something about you, hard to compose an explanation
for why you leave me feeling dizzy, and my thoughts in aberration.
Oh I how I'd love you to bits, beyond any mind's imagination
but this is not the case, you see there's just one altercation,
I am not your perfect girl, no, I don't swell you with elation.
I burn with jealousy of she who does, my heart weak with desolation.
Wish I could enliven you, wish I could set your soul to conflagration
but no, i have no spark, i can't give you that sensation.
Sure you know i'll try, i'll woo you with flirtation,
but you'll give up soon enough, once i lose your fascination.
It's not long before my lukewarm love will reach its expiration.
My heart sinks thinking of the fateful words, the final conversation
shaken my palms and sodden my eyes, admitting devastation
my heart sagging lower yet, blaming you, departed dear, for its dislocation.
I'll miss your eyes that blaze sweet, my own personal constellation
even your flaws, i'll miss them too, because of their association
to the thief who stole my blissful blindness to delightful intoxication
and made me think these things would last, with steadfast stone duration.
But you left like all the others had, there must be some correlation
for why my love lays abandoned, and my heart in isolation
it must be me, I'm the problem, it's my own malicious mutation
that repels love from embracing me and allowing for sweet vacation.
I wanted to warn the masses, so i give you this proclamation:
don't dare fool me with your words, because given this deformation,
I know you will leave me so empty, but somehow full of deprivation.
Oh my poor soul, I can't cure you with apologies, so if its any consolation
I've shared my affliction with the world, through this aching manifestation.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
in the cohort of her hands, a disorder
lost dignity wrapped in the red of need
reckless and arrogant as lilies
an abundance of periphery
wavers at the sea-black hand
of hands of time of hands
rune stones
black granite spattered in stars
a slutter of language
of words of wombs
necrotic we burst
a pause of however
a narcosis of want
meander of limbs
siphoning brine-white tide
colorless-the disorder
marquis of white shadow
on seal slick waves
and the lilies,
petal outward
and in the silence
there were unknown weeks
where the flowers foundered
other bodies
there is a form in the garden
still as clay
we reddened our mouths
and still like clay
slant of a neck untattered
partitioning cerebral sea
arcing back on itself
there was a benign negligence
in the want-of flowers of lilies
vague signs of amplitude
pachyderm and small
in the grooves of lack
malnourished, contrite hands
flushed blooms of pink paper along
pink walls-flush seas of lack
vague symbols of wood and
purulent understanding a
nest of roots
dipping towards the alkaline sea
we didn’t even begin to understand
the range of mourning
becoming us
smooth white shells of elegant
weakened at the hock
distempered by the recent winters
foundering in the vacant space
between us
I mule you
through the tapestries of my desert
and am still, here
where I don’t belong
here I am spread as an excess
as an unfortunate truth
glossed by negligent hands
anxious, with the possible morning
indistinct dwindling winter
curling pink paper
along the walls of black sea
earth-tide
small weakened arrangement of groundcover
jostling in the ferns of truth
we measured the years in numerals
as with skin, ardent and ruddy
palpable lost youth
the rare wood of mistake
loosened from sleep
in the morning we resemble damaged objects
prized for obedience
at odd angles of deformation to time
in the body, a funeral
still warm
skin and stone a slender neck of atonement
for the absence of home
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
A Man Ray photo come to life
Stills of twisted, agonizing deformation
Flash before my unblinking eyes
Watered down with silver tears
I once went to the doctors
A man with a missing leg stood next to me
I contemplated that it was blown off in some prehistoric war
The anaconda tightens its grip
And our skin slowly turns to pale blue
Apr 24, 2011
Apr 24, 2011 at 10:02 AM UTC
I came across a stray today
an emaciated little feline
from me she did not shy away
her jaw disfigured, a deformation
scary she appeared to be
such a ghastly figure
still she came over, loved me
and I loved her back
I wondered if no other ever gave her kindness
due to her appearance
she was such a sweet creature, affection relentless
all she wanted was love
and I cried when I had to go
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 7:45 PM UTC
*Our resistance
to deformation and flow
this is our thickness
unwilling we are
to let go..
But letting go
is not being lost
the grittiness remains..
rubbing fingers together
feeling fine sand
the thinning of
what was before
thick shadows and
boulders of pain...*
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC
My world is a fire of ash and iron
Burning desire and ashen wishes
My ears bleed with the warning siren
As if a hammers kisses'
Punch me in the chest
Breaking threw my sternum
All my verses for her are my best
But the blazing hammer demands I burn them
Charcoal confetti showers us
More than rice ever will
Brand me with our plea of trust
Then to our trust must we ****
Let us vanquish this blaze
Douse our fire under water
Let's think of the many ways
Let it graduate us as its alma mater
Like good students let's learn our lesson
So we don't have to bring eachother pain
Let us look at eachother and count it a blessin
Leave behind our crimson stain
But sooner or later one of us will fall off the deep end
So if not bit by fire
To the deepest depths we descend
Stabbed by our beloved Rose's briar
Into the depths of accusations
We arrive at the same vocation
Needing proper annotation
For a change in our relation
Tune us to a different station
So we can leave this filthy crustacean
Let be heard the deceleration
I'm moving to a different nation
Call it a love vacation
I'm leaving this deformation
This demoralization
This incarnation
But wait
What about desperation
For jubilation
And my reclamation
Of a chance for replication
With Reformation
Maybe a salvation
For our situation
Maybe threw communication
We can fix this obliteration
Of our love
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 11:28 PM UTC
I've thrown myself off the cliff of uncertainty
and I fall
fast
scraping into
my shadows and
anxieties;
I hit my fears
face.
first.
The Plunge of Faith
comes hand in hand
with the Purge of
Eradication,
Deformation,
And
Illumination;
and with this pain-
this process
of being smashed open
Broken,
everything I thought I was
Dismantles,
and the mirror of the dark night
is created;
from which,
I am able to see
Everything I Am,
already Was,
and will always Be.
Within the pieces of
this dark night mirror,
I am finally able to see,
Me.
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 12:14 PM UTC
First find her ripely inconsolable. She must be beautiful (squeeze the round end -- does it yield perceptibly without deformation?), yet she must think herself ****** The following factors produce this effect: a society which denigrates her, a family which ignores her, fairy-tales which tell her she fulfils herself upon belonging to a man. Once you have selected her, you must purchase. Pay with attention, time, care and compliments. Do not spend too much -- you might suffer buyer's remorse later. Then, before she is sure of herself, make demands. Tell her that her utility is based on your own convenience, and slowly browbeat until soft and creamy.
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 11:29 AM UTC
There was an empty room
Deserted
With a pack of camels laying next
To the dust
Reminded me of me
Of some other me
And the image of a crowded street
Sunny
Moving silently on a yellow light
There was no crying or laughter
Slowly moving
Nowhere in a slight peaceful coming
There was me
In all and of all
to see no more
To feel no more
Laugh no more
In the light of a soft cushion of the street
There were neither angels nor zephyrs
A plain dream presented
The first seen things returned without form, building and falling
A strange nostalgia for the future
And the lack of time remaining
Traveling further into myself
And the chatter of the job
Unstoppable deformation
With its careless activity
Erased death from the face of the earth
No wide eyed glaring at the mythical sky
Where immortality grew like a child
Crawling out of mud
Death imagined
Death and the levitating power of the dream
Around every object seen
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 1:56 AM UTC
I detach my feelings when treating patients to enable myself to make clinical decisions when doing my job.
Due to that I have transformed
I have transformed to a person that can return to her original shape or position after deformation that does not exceed her limit...resilience
I acknowledge that this wall of resilience has turned me into somewhat an "insensitive" person
So much that when those closest to me are in misery it doesn't break me although I sympathize
With that comes imperviousness
Which for a long time I have confused with strength
I fail to admit passage of emotions or rather I have become incapable of being affected by situations
I acknowledge that I may reach a breaking point sometime
I just pray to God that I be ready when all of this finally hits me
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC