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Nicole Aug 2018
Dear Sam,

I love you,
But I really hate you sometimes.

I've been cycling through emotions lately
Because our breakup led to me completely shutting down
I felt nothing
Until I felt sadness
And then I felt anger
Now it's all mixing together
In an overwhelming mess
Especially with your recent breakups
With your other partners
The one who I mourned our relationship over
Who you suddenly realized you weren't into
And the one I'm best friends with
Who you told that you were never poly
Because **** me right?

Because if you were never poly
Then you never really loved me
Then again,
Have you ever really loved anyone?
I try to correct the realization
Of you not loving me
With the fact that I love myself
It's probably a lie, but
Fake it til you make it
Right?
It's hard to accept that
Someone I loved more than anyone
Could give zero ***** about me
It hurts
That I was this disposable to you
And I did nothing but love you
And respect you
And hear you
And care for you with every ounce of my existence
And you just left

Remember when you promised that
We could get through anything?
And had me promise you the same?
Whenever we were unsteady
You would ask me that
The same thing you asked your last partner
Right before they left you
"Babe, we can get through anything, right?"
And it sounded so sweet and so
******* real
But you were just scared
You were only ever sweet
When you thought we were leaving you

And ******* it
I wish I had left you
I wish I would've told you all of the things
That led to MY decision to leave
Because when we talked
We agreed it was mutual
And I never told you my story
You never asked
All you asked was what I would tell people
Which to some might sound like you cared
But all you cared about
Was other people's opinions of you
Not me
Not my opinion
Because I was no longer of use to you
And during that break up
You did ask me why I was crying
Though looking back now
You probably just wanted to hear me say
"I love you"
One last time
Because why else would I be crying?

I don't know if I ever told you
But when you got your third partner
I wished I could stop loving you
Ironically, I pretty much did
In an illusory sort of way since
All my emotions shut down from the pain
And if I were religious I would've prayed for it
Begged for salvation
For freedom from
The shackles laced around my limbs
From loving someone who doesn't care
Who didn't respect me enough
To really remind me that I mattered
In the throes of a new relationship
But none of it helped
Because I still loved you
I still do

What's more than you leaving
Is the amount of damage you did first
Convincing me how radical and inclusive you are
When you shame anyone else
For the things that make them happy
Oh, and what about transparency
And how you avoid passivity in conflict?
Where did that person go?
You started being passive-aggressive
Or even silent sometimes
You'd exit the conversation
In the middle of an argument
And yell at me if I tried to do the same
I should've known things weren't ok
When I started to thank you
For not getting mad and yelling at me
Which only made you mad
Because I was demonizing you
Actually,
I was just afraid of you

I was never enough for you
You'd spend a lot of your time
Complaining about your other partners
And, as obvious as it is now,
I didn't know you were doing the same about me
Because when we were together
I thought we were good
I respected your boundaries
Even when they conflicted with my needs
You didn't like physical contact
Something I needed in order to feel safe
And the few times you did let me hold your hand
You complained about it to your other partner
As though I were a burden
But I am NOT
A burden
I am NOT
Disposable
And I may not be perfect
But I sure as hell matter

I deserve love
I deserve openness and honesty
And trust
Not like that one time
You "forgot" you made a promise to me
Then broke it in secrecy
And got mad at me later
When I was upset with you
Because you knew I had trust issues
You knew it would upset me
But you didn't care
Because you "don't need permission"
To do anything
Which is true
Except, when you truly respect someone
You keep your word
Or you don't get upset about it
When they feel pained by your betrayal
You said you didn't want to feel
Like you owed me something
And it's not that you owed me anything
But you sure didn't deserve my trust after that
And that made you angry

Though not angry like those few times
You called me yelling about
How I ****** up
Because 1)
I was hurt that you didn't want to see me
Even though we had plans to spend the weekend together
And 2)
Because I wasn't being a good partner
Aka I wasn't submitting to you
And following everything you wanted me to
You claimed I was hurting you
But when I called you out
For your blatant hypocrisy
You got even more mad

I was crying at work that day
I was crouched in the ally
Listening to you scream at me
Balling my eyes out in pain
Trying to maintain my ability to breathe
I didn't think to just hang up
Because I knew it was disrespectful
And I didn't want you to leave me

Later you told me that
You like when I cry when we fight
Because it proves to you that
I actually care
That is not ok
I can show you that I care
Without being in so much pain that
Tears stain my face and
I struggle to catch a breath

When we met
You taught me about autonomy
And that saved my life when it came to my depression
But then you used it against me
To avoid doing anything that didn't benefit you
As I bent over backwards to please you
And of course I didn't think it was an issue
When you would change your mind at the last minute
The plans I had looked forward to all day
Quickly fell apart
Autonomy freed me from my demons' grasp
So how could it not make sense?
You had the autonomy to choose what you wanted to do
But you were just being selfish
And didn't care about me
Or my feelings
And as soon as I stopped
Being the only one putting in any effort
You left me

You used to say that
Our love was stronger than anything
But that is an abusive tactic
Because if we were struggling, then
It must be my fault for not trying enough
For not loving you enough
And when I tried to put up boundaries
(Because sometimes I needed space too
Especially when you hurt me so deeply)
You decided to threaten that
Doing so would make you want to leave me
You often held me on that way
Threats
Manipulation
Fear

The way we chose to love polyamorously
Was pretty unhealthy
We didn't set boundaries
Until we did something that hurt us
And then we knew we needed to
But even then we really didn't
Because you didn't respect the ones I set
You told me that
I couldn't have any more partners
You didn't even want me to pursue
The new interest I had at the time
Thankfully, I didn't submit to you then
Because within a few days we broke up
And even though I was sad about it
I immediately felt relief
And regardless of all of this negativity
I truly hope you get help
And can find happiness in your life
And can stop hurting others
Just because you're in pain

You matter
So do I
But your opinion of me doesn't
Because I will love myself
Exactly for who I am
And no longer shame myself
For the things you didn't like
Because I am more
Than what you think of me
I am more
Than how you treated me
And even though I love you
I love myself more
And respect myself enough to let it go
And to let myself be happy
Without you in my life
This series is extremely important to me. It has drastically helped with closure over past unhealthy relationships. They were all unhealthy I'm largely different ways and I did not write these to take away my own fault in the breakups, but I wrote this to rid myself of the unnecessary guilt I have been carrying around because of things that these exes have said to me or the ways in which they treated me. This project is about self-love. Not about hatred or wishing ill will upon others, because I wish them nothing but happiness. This is for me.
Nicole Jun 2018
You say you love me,
Then threaten to leave me.
When does this love
Become unhealthy?

When you tell me that
After this
I can't have any more partners?
As though I had any say in yours.

When you enforce a set of boundaries
While completely disrespecting
Those I ask of you?

When you don't want to hear about it
But you do want to hear about it
And if I don't tell you about it
Then you're just as upset
As if I'd brought it up?

When you call me while I'm working
Yelling because you say I ****** up
And you want to hear me cry
Because then you'll know
That I still care about you?

When you're telling me
How in love you are with me
And how you love when we connect
While telling your other partners
That I'm really just immature
And a horrible person for
Trying to hold your hand?

What about when
You're trying to control
Your partner's and my behavior
By telling them that
They can't hang out with me
Or be my friend anymore
Since it's a choice of solidarity
And it breaks their loyalty to you?
Completely disregarding that
We are best friends too?

Or when you expect me to call into work
Because you aren't satisfied with
The way our discussion ended
And you think that you need to be
Always my main priority
Over even my financial security?

When I'm expected to be present
Whenever you want to talk about us
Or about an issue we're having
But if you don't want to talk about it
Then you'll just turn your phone off?

Or what about when
You boast about how
Open and transparent you are
Then turn around and
Expect me to know what your feeling
And how to fix it
Before we even talk?
And if I don't know
Then I guess I'm just stupid
Which only makes you more angry

And lastly,
What about when
I'm trying to talk to you about the things
That are causing me pain
But you can't even listen to me
Because you just get angry
Because of course I'm just demonizing you?
And even if my feelings are valid
So are yours
And you think I'm wrong
So nothing ever changes

When do I draw the line
And walk away from this "love"
That I honestly
Don't know if I feel anymore?
I gues today
MARY, MARY, QUITE CONTRARY: A Dreadful Tale about a Dead Anglo Mother, A Dreadful, Avenging Syrian Aunt, A Stolen Baby Sister, and a Hateful, Unfaithful, Defaulting Father.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary
How does your garden grow?
With people, people who hardly know
Your vices, your intrigue, your lies, and so,
You’ve ruined lives, and now I will show

How demonizing you are, with just your thinking
About your “slemly” self,  just linking [Nice in Arabic]
That self to your own, and not us--no one else
You belong in no company, your old-time thinking.
Adopting my sister, without any inkling
Of what it takes to challenge the motherless
And seeing we ended up, also, being fatherless.

Travesties galore made this woman happy
You won hearts, but you seemed quite daffy.      
Childhood, telling us we’d never be as good
As your Syrian daughters - such a strange brood!
This kind of “teaching” by a Syrian mom was kinda lewd.

She verily and surely became our ISIS
She thought who could ever, ever be like us
She raved for hours so very against us
To that red-headed family so she could easily best us!
Humiliating us at every stop
We really, really got a lot
From her, the decadent Queen of ISIS
No, she’d never, ever be like us!

Twenty years to a guileless young person
Is a forever herstory an eternity…
A lesson, an identity…
Carried on secretly, destroying our Syrian identity.
She stole that connection, filling it with confusion
She with cruel humor would **** our loving illusion
Stopped it in its growth,
Forever unseating that family oath.
To care - without any rejection.
It was She that was The Great Defection.

Mary, Mary how does your hatred grow
Picked on those who had no Syrian power
But you didn’t see yourself becoming lower
To the ends of the earth, heartless black flower.

In her mind she’d be our Mother
But as this poet, I did not know it
Things would be better if we like sheep
Worshipped Mary, into the deep
Quite similar to the rest of her Keep
Then mayhap we’d enjoy their fully undeserved sleep.

Taught my dear baby sister like her to hate
Would I had the power to shut up her pate
Her mouth was evil to the core
I never, never could stand more.
Her hatred entered me, made me sore.

Screaming at us to keep us out
Stupid Daddy joined her in this falling out
She, successful -as any lout.
By God I thot I must be evil
Their strange behavior was not legal.
Would that she’d accept me, that dangerous eagle.
I lost my sense of self and ‘came very sad
Would that I could be like she so glad.
‘Tis fifty years now, and I can’t stop crying.
No one ever heard this “mother” sighing.

Hell, Mary, full of Face
Recognizing only your Syrian race
Did anyone else matter? Just your primitive face?
Everyone one was hurt, except you and your nace
There’ll be no one, ever, that could take your place.
Laughing to destroy our wanted Arab destiny
Which you did, and did, successfully, with your fantasy.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary
How does your garden grow?
Like plants, you lined us up all in a row
One good, two bad - you did the choosing
And what did you leave?
Only us, who did the losing.
You didn’t water those two plants.
Treated us two as if we were ants.
Watered sissa so she would grow
Your dreaded deeds no one would know
Judgement is left only to God.
But you and Dad should’ve returned to your sod.
Your behavior to the motherless seems very odd.
My sister and I two tossed peas in a pod.

Deserting us suddenly knowing only this hateful group
There’s nothing to which she wouldn’t stoop
Her sick obsession to hurt the powerless
Speaks of a very worst yes, cruel foulness.

We lived at a convent school very protected
Visiting weekends this aspiring ****,
Two sisters know she made a very strong mark
She was not our blood, we couldn’t take part
Of this constant coldness on her part.

And another Aunt with two daughters, good
They were always with us, always stood
The opposite of this wicked would-be aunt
This family, Americanized and very sane
Never did play the ancient Ottoman game
These Aunts were our world - our windowpane.

Two aunts - endowing us with a Syrian heritage,
One, the bad one, with too much leverage
The good one to teach a cheerful Syrian beverage      
With balance, love, and the length of days
Not like the other, the one who dismays.

We represented that bad woman’s target
What it came from. Could it be her precious Margaret?
No, not at all her peaceful daughter
But the other, gladly joined in on the slaughter
Making serious and even much more, fodder.

We had no tools to breach this hate
I guess that it would have to be our fate.
To live our lives just disenchanted.
Our hearts broke, as if forever lancets.
With Syrians there’d be no more dances

Taking my sweet sis turning her against us
She did truly give strong heed to finally fence us.
What ever could we find for our defenses?

Dad, real Dad, inebriated dad,
Fell in with them: became this negative father
Sought their pity--likening me as a foreign daughter
He was in love with them, weakly turning
But in turn, the two of us, spurning
Back to his Syrian fold back, not farther
Unwittingly, unrepentedly, uncaringly, joining the laughter
Discarding his American daughters to a mental slaughter.

At his picnic - family there - he called us foreigners
Foreigners we were, surely, when with them
They couldn’t ever believe in us,
Dad influenced them, peeved at us.
Made us feel like little fools.
No, we never had the tools
To fight this ignorance - Change these mules?

Punishing, punishing us as wedded women
Accused of all that they gossiped about
What did they say? And this truant dad a lout
Speaking of us in downing tones
I’d feel far better had they broken my bones.

Closing his relationships to his
Two lesser liked non-Arab sisters
Would there would be a better mister
He considered us two a mere sinful blister.

We ran away from this horrible drunk
He hated his daughters and he stunk
And then we suffered the worst of any they would dunk
Uncomfortable at their Arab-speaking home
We stopped visiting long before their moan
We were “no good”  said our Syrian family
Would that we knew that we’d be anti-Family.

They had something to hate and did they do it
We had no idea we were just a joke
Their words, their disgust, far more than a poke.
Their anti-American provincial views
Made little sense - such perverted mews
All we loved, we would really lose.
There was never any right to choose.

That Family didn’t speak, avoided us
At sissa's Syrian wedding. It was all mined
That scene returns to me all of them lined  
Winding its way into my unbidden mind,
They were so, so truly unkind
We always would be to them the “Other”
Yes, us, us, us, without a mother!

We lost three mothers, our real one gone
Also our good step-mother quickly on
Add Mary to that three, glad she is gone
Perhaps Dad guilty of the first two deaths
I shan’t continue - you’d lose your breaths.
  
But Hail that Lady, she would change our world
Sending us suddenly into a whirl.
How to change the young with screaming?
She’d not change but destroy our dreaming
Waking horribly from our Syrian dream
We just didn’t fit their shady crème de la crème.

Everyone was fooled by this greedy witch
She and her daughters I’d deem as *****
What was in them, caused their making?
Taking away, taking, taking, taking.
Good cousins now, have seen an awakening
My work of writing revealed Mary’s faking.

Hail Mary full of Face
Only using her charms to erace
The sisters she wished not to embrace
With threads of lies an unrevealing face
Syrians’ acceptance of her goldarn place  
No one ever will she replace  
In every way she used her mace
A clever poison to keep her place
Successfully, she’d snidely hid her dreams
Wearing a mask to hide her themes.

She’d always hated us through and through
We didn’t know it till she did what she’d do
Her masque did work, from dusk to dawn.
Hatred of us was what she would spawn
She would definitely **** our spirits
Would that I could reveal all her lyrics.

Our Syrian sissa’s wedding put us in place
That even there we could have little space.
No other family events could we be included.
Engagements, baptisms, we would be excluded
Their intentions now were completely nuded.   deluded!

You stole our little baby entering the world
Through our Mom’s Death
You stole my Dad’s affection
He also her straw man, worshiping Mary‘s fiction
Her stand could only be that of affliction.

Hail Mary full of Face
Face that faced nothing exçept winning the Ace
Did no one ever tell you - you were a case?
Using your screams to stuff our mind
And even more shrieking to clog our mind
No other Syrian family could be so unkind.

Always filling us with her delicious food
Only to turn against us, trussing our good mood.
I’d like to regurgitate all that poisonous food
Anything about her became totally lewd.
She bragged of her daughters - were they really that good?
When we were children, told us we’d never be like them
We never wanted to be like those hurting us.
Took our Dad’s affection, he also deserting us
We never but finally saw that they were into hurting us.

She has attacked us screaming, screaming on end
Never an explanation, never to end
She took money, stole sister too, not a lend.
With this cruel treatment, we were not able to fend.
I’ve never heard such venom in any human voice
It seared through both my ears, such an odious noise
Those first twenty years were so very splendid
But later with her actions - all was ended
With her allotted time this is how she would spend it.

Sister, affections stolen, obeying by fear
Couldn’t counter - with a mere
Stand up to this fraud of a Mother Dear.

Our baby sis had became her clay
She would remake her through many a day.
She owes us much, this lying thief
No family tree would know, not even a leaf
She stole and changed our beautiful blood
Returned nothing except a bad bad flood
Of making our names into family mud.

She then gave out inimical messages
The taunting that came from her mealy mouth
From Damascus, that lousy mouse.
Couldn’t discuss, but only scream
What ever, ever, did she mean?
This Family into which father bought.
Their apathetic “reasoning” I was never taught.

Her daughters conscripted to the Mary core
Following her words, her iron ore
Inflated us with much heavy criticism
To fill our sissa with a lack of witticism

Lying, lying she always, always hated us
For twenty years, she consistently slated us
For slaughter, just like little lambs
Motherless, she took our little lamb
She won, didn’t she, in her sham?
Mary & dad really fated us with their sick flim flam!

She’d tackle anyone, anything in her path
And she did, with her oh so dreadful wrath.
What powered this extremely devilish mind?
She had never, ever, been really kind.

Our sodden father turned to her
She was Goddess, he deemed Something
While we were nothing, nothing, NOTHING!
It didn’t happen till twenty years after
From kindliness to hypocrisy
One would not believe.
Our real selves never to retrieve.

A sweet child, sissa, full of love
Knew they were cold and she let us know
After those years, sadly though
Turned into another hateful *****
Forced to be like them, else be ditched.

Dad, dad, the precious Syrian lad
Embraced the family gatherings that they had
Youngest of the Ikmuks - he was mad
Allowed them the desecration of our pad
They could say anything--made it their fad.

He wouldn’t speak to them of their travesty
Worshipped them, and ever drastically
Wanted to be Them, lest he be
On the Outs from the Family Tree
Ousted, married out of the Tribe
Hardly now, when this happened, few are alive.
He refused to tell them we both should be here.
He would never, ever, play it fair.
“Dad, if you go, I’ll never be the same.”
He would never, never take the blame.
Of his paltry stabs at being a human
Go stuff him in a jar with more rotten cumin.

Never defended us, never, never
Always took their part like a mismatched lever.
Usually a Dad with a daughter would stay beside her
But then, he gave Mary a far wider rider.

Gatherings went on, by the family Mare.
All our lives had been spent with them before
But Iron Lady with Iron Ore
Came through later and before.
She would win, so well connected to her vile kin
Change, girl, change, you’re just an Anglo fem.
Don’t, please, don’t pay much attention to them.
Sudden hate - my thoughts now were dashed.
I changed - they took all I had and then they smashed.

They brought us into their sickly Ottoman lives
But all of them acted as if we had the hives
They, centuries‘ habit, it was the mid-1950’s why so bold?
They were too much, too much very, to behold
We were stricken, treated as in days of old
We would never be part of their unhealthy mold  [Mould?]

Regular at Church. What kind of God could she worship?
You know who should have been told? The Syrian Bishop!
The She-Devil not even relishing the Church script
Eternally, she would always, rip, rip, and then grip!
Instead looked to those after Church who would serve her!
She did just this with a total fervor.
No Communion, no worship, but her only feats
To seek and add to gossip in the streets
Afterward. When-Where everyone meets.

Se enjoyed the Devil of Power over those she knew
Verily, she should have been thrown in the loo.
Few new. Only the rejected two.

Mary, Mary full of Mace
You never did achieve much grace
Wish you could have finally
Fallen on your ignorant Face
There’s really not going to be any space
To explain your bad translation of a very good race.
The Syrian families I always know very well
Would never have made this kind of hell.

The Syrian race is good, except for this “mother”
I speak from my place as the dreaded ”Other”
You are and were a terrible, mother
You’re a crude example of this Middle Eastern  race.
Very few of them did see through your face.

In that family I barely gleaned this toxicity
But, never, ever, did I witness much felicity.
They llaughed and laughed about any Other
Played well their acts as if they cared
They knew Syrian-like we would not fare
We, Dad, all sisters three - fell for her snare.

What think you, God, of these poor children
How il-ly this Family thoroughly tilled them
Two non-Arab daughters’ given bad repute
Their shocking beliefs really made us mute
All that came from her demented mind
All that encountered Mary’s “kind”
She destroyed our conception of self
This hypocrisy would make one melt.

She infiltrated us, her daughters, and my Sissa
That we were not as good as she - but she lost her mister
Had Uncle [our blood] lived, this would never have occurred.
But Auntie [not our blood] surely had demurred.
Her hooked-nose criticizing, and simple daughters,
Psychologically--against us-- they joined in on these slaughters.
Kindness for two decades to rent, later they spent
Hell on the motherless, but hiding that intent
Taught her daughters: “Don’t be involved with them”
We really do know some of what she did, or said,
This is the kind of meal that she constantly fed
Her masque nearly hiding her evil bent.
Too bad she wasn’t forced back into her Syrian tent.

Mary, Mary quite contrary, How does your world work?
You won, you won, you ignorant, piece of work
You demanded respect from all of us, treacherous,
She got it, didn’t know it, then she brought down the two of us

Sneaky, low-life, hypocrite witch
We always thought we had a niche
But lost kids like us did never snitch
We wouldn’t, didn’t open up about that *****.

We had a twenty-year comfort zone with her
Deserted at last by her flying fur
Stolen, deserted at last by Dad--that foul mister
Stolen, deserted, lastly by our pretty baby sister.

This left us changed by this She-Devil
Would that there’d be a way to counter her evil
We couldn’t - she was always far too strong
An ISIS for us - this would last too long.

After these years, I could not grow
Was I a real woman? -  I didn’t know!
Being a mother couldn’t show
That this Family created a list of woe.

When Sissa had babies & a mom to help
We did this alone - all this we felt.
Her faulted hatred never did melt.
I didn’t know how to take a stance
Nor could I find out how to advance.
We had to oppose Aunt Mary’s dance.

That Sissa could not bo
This poem represents many years of my life. It is all true.
Carol Rae Bradford, M.Ed., Author, "Mayflower Arab: A Memoir"
Thank you for accepting my poetry. April 16, 2015
Monica Figueroa Dec 2015
I couldn’t help myself.
Digging my nails into myself wasn’t enough.

I didn’t want to bite my lip because in a few  days,
I’d be swapping spit with a stranger and I would have
No idea where he’d have been.

I squeezed down on my fingers,
And for a second
I thought I might snap one.

In my head, I was falling.
Even though he walked over
Placed his hand on my thigh,
Even though part of me wanted
To melt
And
Dissolve into his arms,
My mind was a million miles away.

Even as he bent over to look at me,
My eyes would not…
Could not...
Make contact.

He was just a blur.

I knew I was somehow holding my breath
And hyperventilating at the same time.

Was it really such a big deal?
So he woke me up and said some choice words.

Was he even yelling at me?

It felt like he was.

Ripped from nightmare to awaken into another.

It was everything I had not to lock myself in the bathroom,
And by lock, I mean...
Stuffing a towel into the hole where the doorknob was supposed to be, Pushing my back against the door
In a feeble attempt
To create some distance between me and the monster.

But besides the fact he could easily push the door open,
I wasn’t sure if the monster I was referring to was him.
Or within me.

The tissues piled up as I discreetly wiped my tears.
Don’t give him the pleasure of knowing he broke you.
But he knew
I stared blankly at the laptop in front of me,
Tabs open to self-harm help sites.
But I was just absent-mindedly scrolling,
The words barely sinking in.

Was I waiting for the moment to pass?
Or for him to leave me alone for a few seconds?

Somewhere in the distance an exasperated sigh
Signaled he’d grown weary of caring.
Or pretending to care.

My mind raced back and forth
Between demonizing him
And demonizing myself.

I heard the footsteps go down the stairs,
A fridge door open…
Then close.

And when the smell of food wafted up to where I sat, shaking..
I realized I’d be going hungry today.

But it didn’t seem to matter.

What mattered was the space I now had.

He had said I was bright red,
But  I could feel the color draining out of my face
As I held the lit lighter at an angle.

In this position,
The flames licked the metal,
Heating it to a purposeful degree.

Time slowed down.
As I lowered the cheap 7-11 Bic to my skin,
I made the conscious decision to choose an area I could cover.

Contact!
Chills suddenly trickled down my spine,
Every neuron ablaze,
And for a brief second:
Bliss.
Relief.
Release
Relapse.
.
It was nowhere near as good as a blade.
But I couldn’t afford more scars.
At least not the kind that would take weeks to heal.

I pulled the blanket
The one I had made before my grandmothers death,
Around my shoulders.
Lit the green trinket again,
Kissed it to the skin of my ankle.

Once.
Twice.
Three times.

By the fourth I knew I had to stop.
Not because I’d be caught.
No he was downstairs
Enjoying the food I slaved away to make yesterday.
I was convinced none would be saved for me....

I had to stop because I could feel myself ramping up and the goal was discretion.
Lest I be accused of trying to manipulate him.
The pain radiated upwards, a warm stab against chilled skin.

Suddenly, I was exhausted.
I wanted to close my eyes and sleep.
Instead, I took a swig from the bottle
Nestled against the foot of the bed.
Silence fell over the house, and even though
At the edges of my consciousness
I could pick up on the low tones of conversation,
The buzzing in my ears drowned out those nuances.

“Maybe I should just lay down for a second.”

Time passed, and once again he was in the room.
Despite hearing him come in, I still jumped when he touched me.
I forced myself to direct my gaze, but it all felt empty.
Words were coming out of his mouth.
Where they questions?
He was calling me weird.
Telling me how I was bringing down the energy in the room with my depression.

He asked me  something and I nodded.
Once.
Twice.

Suddenly he disappeared.

He seemed happy.
Like in some twisted way, my brokenness brought him joy.
Squirreled himself away
In the bathroom I had original wanted to esape to.

I wondered...
If he was ******* to the idea of my wanting to **** myself.

I shook the thought off.
It wouldn’t be surprising.
It didn’t make a difference.

I couldn’t tell how many minutes bled away, but I eventually arose.
Tossed off the covers.
Lit a cigarette.
And allowed the numbness to take over.

As badly as I wanted to sleep, I knew dreams would offer no respite.
My mind merely cycled
Through suicidal scenarios I could not give into.

This is reality.
The last few days were an illusion.
I wish I was brave enough to draw a last breath,
but knew I had no option but to keep living.
Copright 2015 Monica Figueroa
jake aller Apr 2020
Friday April 10


Walking in Limbo

a man finds himself alone
in a dark forest
filled with strange trees
and hears voices
in the wind

he walks forward
towards a light
in the forest

and soon finds himself
confronted by a ghostly image
the dead are all around
and he realizes
that he has died

and he is wandering
in limbo
he walks towards the light

and sees a man
at a desk
who asks his name

he says his name
and the man
smiles and tells him
welcome to limbo

join the others
to wait your turn
for judgement is due

and the man
walks back
through the haunted forest

trying to remember how he died
but he has no memory
of his past life

and is doomed
to wander in limbo
stuck between time
and worlds

comforted by the ghosts
around him
and the light
in the forest

writers digest prompt to write an ekphrastic  Poem




New Bodies in New Era

we are living
in a SF world
things are changing
at breath taking speeds

nowhere more
than with the coming biomedical revolution
soon we will be confronted
with the reality

that we can live forever
in new bodies
grown for us
in laboratories

with our memories intact
and I can hardly wait
want to throw off
this aging 65-year old body

and get a new 20-old perfect body
boy, I can’t wait

I would be come
what I always wanted to be

6 foot 6 inches tall
perfect athletic basketball body

perfect visions
perfect hearing
perfect smelling
perfect teeth



well behave hair
no more learning disability
no more coordination problems

no more fibromyalgia
no more arthritis either
no more aching aging pain
no more mental fog

god,
I can hardly wait
hope it happens
before I die

and I hope
I can live
on forever
with my wife

also transformed
into a perfect
**** as hell
new body

poetry soup prompt to write a poem about changes

life interrupted by corona


we live in a strange world
life interrupted by corona
the virus spread throughout the world
disrupting everything

putting life on hold
as more people
hunkered down
waiting for the virus

to pass over us
like in biblical times
the virus
will test us all

life interrupted
on hold
until the virus
spreads through the world

and then
we will all
go back
to life interrupted

writing.com Daily Dew Drop interruption


Saudade for friends I have lost

as I get older
I lose more people
every year

more people I knew
have died moving on
and I mourn their lost friendship

wished I had been
a better friend for them
and knew them better

and with the corona virus
spreading around the world
I will lose so many more

in the coming year
as the virus spreads
its malignancy far and wide

I lost my father due to cancer in 1985
and my sister
due to a freak illness in 2007

and my mother
due to Alzheimer’s in 2005
and my father-in-law as well in 2007

Demel Tucker
high school debate teammate
dead of *** in 1995

Julian Bartley and his son
died in a terrorist bombing
in Nairobi in 1998

Jon Weber college roommate
dead due to prostate cancer
in 2000

Paul Simon  friend from the visa line
dropped dead of a heart attack
in 2004

Ted Halstead
one of my best bosses
died of heart attack in 2007

Chris Richard
one of my former bosses
from my days in Bangkok

dropped dead of a heart attack
shortly before we were due
to have lunch in 2014


and so many others
I have lost
along the way

and soon there will be
so many more
as I get old in the corona era




my lover’s body inspires me

my lover
Lover’s face
inspires me

Filled ****
as hell
still got it

drives me
wild desires
tonight

concrete poem - national poetry month prompt day 9


Vogan Poetry inspires us all

Couth super- of  the world
trailer, stringendo travels afar
Rent center bank me bark me
recipe, stringendo.for sure for sure

National poetry month prompt  day eight Vogan Bot Poetry


The end of the world news depresses me

the end of the world new
depresses me
makes me want to shout and scream

**** leave me alone
to deal with my grief
amid the death and destruction

watching CNNMSNBCFOXBBC media nonstop
filled with essential dread
the end of the world is upon us

from the screaming news media
spreading forth across the land
fake news screams the president

all is alright he proclaims
no one believes his 16,000 lies
and so it goes

we are drowning with information
coming at us so fast
and furious

When will it end my friend
is anyone’s guess
in the long run we are dead

National poetry Month Day Seven poem inspired by the news


the Devil speaks In the Garden of Earthly Delights

in the garden of earthly delights
the devil makes a covert appearance
disguised as always

he wanders about the world
corrupting everything
with his evil foul deeds

the devil turns to me
and says welcome to my world
human

you will soon be mine
death and destruction
revenge is mine

you will all die
i decree it
and he laughs

and continues to corrupt
the garden of Eden
and earthly delights


ekphrastic garden of earthly delights national poetry month prompt day 6

president trump haunts my Dream

president Trump
haunts my dreams
daily dystopian nightmares
as he daily proclaims
the end to the republic

as he ushers in fascism
with his every lie
he corrupts the world
and I hate
seeing his bloated fat ugly body

that haunts my every dream
as I watch him  rant and rage
against my old friends,
his enemies in the deep state
ushering in chaos and destruction


National Poetry Month day four prompt image from a dream



ten words random rhymes

every day I see our president
Trump proclaims that he will be president
his image haunts my dreams
dystopian nightmares propels my dreams
as the president proclaims he is president
the end of republic follows
no one hears our screams
He ushers in endless dreams
fascism inspires
our collective screams

national poetry month Day three prompt  write a poem based on ten random words


674 Santa Rosa

my childhood home
for almost 10 years
was 674 Santa Rosa
Berkeley California

A five bedroom
adobe California home
on the side of a hill
at the bottom of the Berkeley hills

you entered on the top floor
across the street you entered
on the bottom floor
thus it was in the Berkeley Hills

the house
had a large deck
with a perfect view
of the golden gate

we used
to sit outside
watching the sunset
as we ate dinner

my Mom and Dad
would have
their nightly cocktails
on the deck

before retreating inside
to continue
their nightly fights
and arguments

I grew up
downstairs
hearing their constant words
of hatred, dismay and outrage

my parents were the proverbial
odd couple
perhaps
never should have married

but despite the hate
there was still some love
that kept them together
throughout the years

we had a rec room
with a pool table
and I hung out there
with my friends

my mother tolerated my friends
most of the time
she would be somewhat sober
until after they left

and the madness came
over her
as she drank her whisky
and wine

the basement room
was added later
was my younger brother’s room
later was my room

whenever I visited
from college days
hiding out downstairs
avoiding my mad mother

my old room lay abandoned
filled with books
thousands of books
that I had read over the years

when she died
I should have taken
all the books
instead I took

about one hundred
just no space
for the books
of my childhood memories

National Poetry month day two prompt specific place poem 674 Santa Rosa Berkeley California


My life appears to a dream


For I dream
of meeting
the love of my life

in a dream
she haunted my dreams
for eight years

she walked out of my dreams
into my life
and became my wife

yes my life
resembles a fairy tale
complete with a princess

that rescued me
with her undying love
and made my life complete

national Poetry Month Day One Prompt Metaphor for Life Dreamer




Trump Derangement Syndrome Blues

Trump haunts my nightmares
dystopian visions
soon to come true

fan story 15 syllable poem contest

Saturday April 11

To My Dream Woman Who Loves Me

to my dream woman
who has loved me so
over the years
since I first dreamt
of meeting her
thank you for finding me
and rescuing me
I just have three words
to say
I love you
Saran hae
and  in a million other languages
and will love you
until the end of time

writers digest prompt to write a x  Blank  x

BLACK OUT POEM

Black out Poem
God’s Punishment

Original text


During a press briefing today to address the nation’s response to the coronavirus pandemic, President Trump was asked about certain Christian pastors who plan to defy state lockdown orders and hold Easter church services this Sunday.
“I’ve had talks with the pastors, and most of the pastors agree … that they are better off doing what they are doing, which is, distancing,” Trump said, adding that the pastors want to “get back to church so badly.”
Report Advertisement
Trump then referred to a notorious pastor who sits on his religious advisory council.
Defend democracy. Click to invest in courageous progressive journalism today.
“I’m going to be watching Pastor Robert Jeffress, who’s been a great guy,” Trump said. “He’s a great guy and I’m going to be watching on a laptop.”

Jeffress is known for his litany of statements demonizing the LGBT community, abortion, and secular people. One of his most reviled comments came in 2015 when he said the 9/11 attacks were God’s punishment on America for abortion.
“People ask me all the time,” Jeffress said during a speech at Liberty University. “‘Well, I just don’t understand why God wouldn’t protect our nation and he would allow these radical Muslims in 2001 to **** 3,000 of our citizens and why God doesn’t protect us. Surely, God doesn’t use pagans to bring judgment upon his own people, does he?’”


“I’ve had talks with the pastors, and most of the pastors agree … that they are better off doing what they are doing, which is, distancing,” Trump said, adding that the pastors want to “get back to church so badly.”
Report Advertisement
Trump then referred to a notorious pastor who sits on his religious advisory council.
Defend democracy. Click to invest in courageous progressive journalism today.
“I’m going to be watching Pastor Robert Jeffress, who’s been a great guy,” Trump said. “He’s a great guy and I’m going to be watching on a laptop.”


Jeffress is known for his litany of statements demonizing the LGBT community, abortion, and secular people. One of his most reviled comments came in 2015 when he said the 9/11 attacks were God’s punishment on America for abortion.
“People ask me all the time,” Jeffress said during a speech at Liberty University. “‘Well, I just don’t understand why God wouldn’t protect our nation and he would allow these radical Muslims in 2001 to **** 3,000 of our citizens and why God doesn’t protect us. Surely, God doesn’t use pagans to bring judgment upon his own people, does he?’”

Black out text

the coronavirus pandemic, President Trump
hold Easter church services this Sunday.
“I’ve had talks with the pastors, get back to church so badly.”

“He’s a great guy and I’m going to be watching on a laptop.”

he 9/11 attacks were God’s punishment on America for abortion.
“People ask me all the time,” ‘Well, I just don’t understand why God wouldn’t protect our nation and he would allow these radical Muslims in 2001 to **** 3,000 of our citizens and why God doesn’t protect us. Surely, God doesn’t use pagans to bring judgment upon his own people, does he?’”

Poem

Corona Pandemic is Not’s God’s Punishment



Amid  the coronavirus pandemic,
President Trump
Attended virtual Easter church services
I’ve had talks with the pastors,
We need to get back
to church so badly.”

Rev Jeffries is  a great guy
I’m going to be watching on a laptop.”

Rev Jeffries said

The 9/11 attacks were God’s punishment

on America for abortion.

“People ask me all the time,”
‘Well, I just don’t understand
why God wouldn’t protect our nation
and he would allow these radical Muslims in 2001
to **** 3,000 of our citizens
and why God doesn’t protect us.

Surely, God doesn’t use pagans
to bring judgment
upon his own people,
does he?’”

I am sad to report

Rev Jeffries

I spoke to God

This morning

He confirmed

He did not cause 9-11

To bring judgement

On the US

For abortion

He went on to say

The corona virus

Is beyond his control

And he is not sending it

To punish the US

Or the world

His final words

Please tell Rev Jeffries

To simply ****

poetry super highway black out poem

coffee Whitney

my coffee
morning delight
all day long
not though at night
can not sleep
afternoon coffee
leads to nightmares lasts all night


writing.com Whitney poem form
  
coffee Hay Na Ku


hot
coffee
in morning

ice
coffee
afternoon

Drink
coffee
afternoon

will
soon have
bad nightmares

must
have my
coffee now

drink
coffee
all day long

no
way sleep
will come me

curse
of my
mad coffee

writing.com prompt write a Hay Na Ku Poem
Daily Dew Drop In submissions as well



women playing the lute contemplating God

a woman sits
by herself playing the lute

deep in contemplation
thinking of God's love
for her

thinking of the devil
and his temptations
she continues playing the lute

all poetry contest
various poems april 10 and april 11
Brent Kincaid Jul 2015
You quote from Leviticus
Call me an abomination
As you eat cheeseburgers
And claim a Christian nation.
You don’t ****** daughters
Who have had unmarried love
Yet, demonizing gay people
Fits you like an expensive glove.

You vilify your children daily
And quote the bible to boot,
While you work on the Sabbath
In your fine mixed-fabric suit.
You talk so glibly about us
Out of both sides of your mouth.
You are embarrassing examples
Of the sickness of the Old South.

You just ain’t right.
Your head’s on wrong.
Your hypocritical ravings
Are the cause of this song.
You’re a liar and a nut
And you’re halfway crazy.
We'd make laws against you
But we’re too **** lazy.

You wave your hands and pray
In public so you are well seen.
You copy your Christianity
From the latest People magazine.
Your idea of pious philosophy
Is way off the Christian track.
If I ever shake hands with you
I’ll count the fingers I get back.

You just ain’t right.
Your head’s on wrong.
Your hypocritical ravings
Are the cause of this song.
You’re a liar and a nut
And you’re halfway crazy.
We'd make laws against you
But we’re too **** lazy.
Ahmad Cox Apr 2012
Touch can be very important
We all need to be touched
We all need to feel like we are beautiful
In our own ways
Learning to embrace our selves
Embracing the warmth
That can come with a simple touch
With a simple hug
I don't think we allow ourselves to be touched enough
We spend so much time guarding ourselves
We have spent so much time demeaning ourselves
Demeaning our bodies
Sexualizing ourselves
Demonizing touch
Even demonizing our bodies
Ultimately repressing ourselves
We need to be able to allow ourselves to be more open to touching
And hugging
And just spending time
Connecting in intimate and healing ways
MAJD S May 2013
Sophisticated creations created in sophistication
Humbly stumble your rocket ship upon us
Show us the ways of wisdom
The gears to greatness
Greetings from above…

Indescribably intuitive taking part of our tuition
Relaxing everybody with your percentages
Because everybody loves your mathematical mysteries mingling with minds mistaking us monitoring the minutes of our total misguidance
You guide us through that too…
Tactically tyrannical, democratically demonizing our demands
Demanding our demons
Because without the demons dictating our lusts as districts for us to be in
You are but a simple voice
Maybe so inhumanly loud and annoying
But incompetent
Powerless…that freaks you out…
Notorious nuzzles nurturing our children
Not so new of an idea
Because were used to getting
Tips of our rights smuggled through the windows you chose to open
Then smile and wave from up there
Because being like us is too mainstream
Becoming like us is an impossibility possible only when you become wood
Stiff wood
Moving around on shoulders
Standing in line on
The borders
Of dirt and human form
Following your followers with flowers on top of you facilitating your families fascinations that yes, youre gonna be alright down under
Flashback to the fudemental moments of your life
And you’ll realize
It’s when you killed the father
Suffocated the mother
Ripped the brother apart
And told the son…hey let me help you
But this is when you die…
If we all **** you in our minds youre dead
And only then…would “up there” be nothing but a shameful figure
Rather than a worshiped emblem of total *******
And only then…would we gain life…
Harry J Baxter Jan 2014
They tell us they have our best interests at heart
as if They could ever have any idea towards
what Our best interests might be
the songs coming from my car stereo
asks me
“they’re out for presidents to represent them.
You really think a president could represent you?”
I say cease the gentrification
of neighborhoods which hold more history
than you hold fake smiles
and if we have an issue of poverty
maybe you shouldn’t focus as much
on roping clean cut white students
into your neighborhood
to raise property values
and instead focus on repairing
an entire portion of the population
which we enslaved with chains and drugs and crimes
a whole segment of our reality
which we told were no good
and lazy
and hopeless
but act surprised when they turn to crime, drugs, and violence
***, Drugs, and Rock’nRoll
but that’s only if you’re affluently white
for the rest of the world it goes
STD’s
whole generations brought to their knees beneath the heaving weight of substance abuse
and a small fragment of an idea, a belief, that the only thing that can save them
is their ability to create something from nothing
a rap entrenched in justified outrage
or a man who came from less than nothing
sailing through the air
to slam the basket through the hoop of everything we told him was out of reach
My white guilt is fighting with my white privilege
and it’s leaving me left asking
What makes them any worse than me?
from the jobs I’ve worked the only thing I learned
was that all that divides us
is those who know how to hustle
and those who know how to take
We spent hundreds of years trying to break
their spirit down like the roads in the ghetto parts of town
but as a kid
some of my greatest heroes were the poor and disenfranchised
who came from nothing and carried with them only their voice
and their story
and It’s easy for me to sit here in my apartment
demonizing the things I didn’t choose to benefit from
The first hip hop show I went to
I carried a bag full of insecurities
they read of a list that went like this:
I am an over-privileged white boy
who never had to work for a single thing in his entire **** life
so what right do I have here with these people?
this is the closest these people come to God
and that makes me and outsider
a blasphemous heathen
a representative of the cult which cuts down their leaders
and herds their youth like sheep
but I can say I never paid money for a pair of Jordans
not facilitating the death of brain washed lost children
sacrificed so some CEO’s can give his escort a fatter tip
before going back to his family
whom he assures he loves
and the men behind their podiums
clad in suits which cost more money than some make in a year
cry wolf time and time again
and time and time again
we lock ourselves away in isolation and panic
because that’s all they want from us
they want us silent and docile
so they smother our protests
with scare tactics
keep them afraid
keep them wary and nervous
keep their fingers inches from triggers
keep them buying
keep them divided
I was watching the news
a White kid took his parents’ car out on a joy ride
“Oh he’s just a kid. Kid’s make mistakes. It’s actually kinda funny.”
a few months earlier
the same story about a black kid
“He’s already a criminal. What a shame he was raised so poorly. This is what’s wrong with the country.”
and I don’t have the right answers to respond to that
all I know
is I think we’d fare far better
if we spent less time listening to the fear
and more time being human beings
Kind of long and rambling. I'm pretty sure that a beast of this caliber got away from my reins at a few points. I don't really expect many to like this piece, from a purely poetic perspective it comes across rather weak. But I've always had a chip on my shoulder which stems from my privileged upbringing contradicting the things which I respected most in my life. Long Story Short this was something that I needed to get out of me before it broke free on its own in a much less healthy way
Amanda Scott May 2013
How sweet is the sound of silence?
Enchanting it is at first,
But granted some time for further inspection
One can encounter the worst

What happens when your trapped in the dark
With no hope to find your way out?
My friend, this is where you'll quickly discover
What silence is truly about

For your thoughts are very poisonous
And can tear you apart inside
With whispers of death stabbing your ears
There's no where left for you to hide

Where silence is no longer silence
But the screams of a dying soul
Where moments are spent in agony
As you drown in it's gaping black hole

Time is never-ending
And "lonely" is newly defined
Where you cry for help as people pass by
And willingly leave you behind

You struggle to maintain your sanity
As the darkness quickly seeps in
And your mind is fighting to stay alive
As it's filled with every last sin

Where the fear of being alone
Is far greater than any other fear
For the demonizing sound of silence
Is the worst you will ever hear
Anna Dec 2014
I know, from where you’re at in this,
things seem bright.
He’s treating you well,
expressing that he ****** up;
it for sure won’t happen again.

He’s texting you “goodnight beautiful”
every night before he goes to bed.
He’s telling his friends that you’re his girl,
you’re spending time with his siblings.
He’s buying you things,
he’s spending time with you.

I know,
I’ve been there.

I plead that you realize that it won’t always be like this.

Soon he’ll start blowing you off,
no call,
no answer.
If he hasn't already, he’ll start lying about where he is,
who he’s with,
who the girl he was talking to was.
You might found out.

But don’t confront him about it, oh no.
It’ll be all your fault.
You’re crazy.
You drove him to it.
It never happened, why are you demonizing him?
Or he’ll cry and say that he ***** everything up
and you can’t leave him, too.

I know that things seem good now.
I’ve been there.
If you got out now,
you’d really be dodging a bullet.
Don’t be like me.
Please recognise you deserve better than him,
that he doesn’t deserve you in the slightest.
He cheated on you once,
you know he’ll do it again.

You won’t ever listen to me, though.
I didn’t listen when I was warned.
I’m just a crazy ex, you know?
Just like he’ll tell you all of them are.
Every
single
girl
he’s ever been with.
or, more crudely: he's a ******* and, even though I hate you, he doesn't deserve to touch the ground you walk on. trust me.
Sarah Delaney Apr 2022
I want to take a moment to apologize
For trying to make you bear the weight of my personal trauma.
At the time,
It seemed easier to blame you than to admit the cold hard truth of the situation.
This was something that would forever change me,
Yet I tried to change you as well
And that was not fair to you.
The weight was mine to bear alone.
I forgive you for not knowing how to deal with the situation or how to comfort me.
Only time could do that.
I apologize for demonizing you for not being able to handle it,
The trauma was too great for anyone to ever comprehend.
I apologize for saying awful, demeaning words because I was hurting emotionally,
What I said I can never take back.
But most of all,
I forgive you for leaving
I wish you nothing but the best this world has to offer.
~sdr
NeroameeAlucard Feb 2015
Now this topic has ground on my brain lately
but I feel I should discuss it at least once, and hopefully not lengthy.
See, I agree with feminism and I do my best to treat everyone equally,
black, white, whatever it's all the same to me.
So Tumblr feminists, I'm calling you out because being extreme behind a keyboard seems to be your specialty.
You spend days with square eyes
Filling Tumblr and discovering lies
Women this women that
Telling all of your little facts
Now Let's get back on track,
First of all demonizing straight guys won't solve **** and most likely will get you nothing but flak but I guess you can think that all guys are complete ***** I'll give you a pass to that,

Second of all who made up that free bleed thing?
I mean I know that time is unpleasant but allowing yourself to bleed in say a public pool I'm almost positive isn't hygienic

Now before you think I'm some chauvinistic pig,
I do think that the pay gap shouldn't exist, and I do think oversexualization of our daughters isn't anything positive

However I will say that I'm for equality, not matriarchal or patriarchal or giving someone with different parts between their legs special treatment

So stop overreacting on this
Just because you are different then boys on the way you ****
Love your soul and not your gender
Stop making every guy a *** offender
This was a collaborative effort with my little sister Joana A.k.A ducky :)
Nikola Kaberline Jun 2014
They hang limply from the walls as
Old friend DECAY settles
Suburbia Mexicana neons and
Obscene jabs in raspberry
Demonizing the scalp of an 18th cake
The lipstick is not dark enough to
Carry a meaning here

No scent lingers as the calendar turns
Another year burnt to death as
We move further away from coincidence
And desperately memorize the lines of a
Modern work, every brushstroke an intellectual
Marvel so if we stare enough it will enfold on
Itself to glass

Guten morgen, Herr Schicksal!
Would you be so kind as to
Dissolve the peppermint stench
And leave the shower on?
I may see a reflection through the
Steam and like it more than yours
I never much liked chloroform or
Frosted roses

Settle on with
Delusions of Poland
And lazy eye tangos
With naked melodies re-vamped
By a 21st century greaser
Please don’t leave
Hail to Canon, brute of mine!
In the shadows of the walls
where laughter once reverberated
as a symphony of gleeful bliss,
intonational inclines arise in the dark
as dancing phantoms haunt
the smirking silence which dissipates
from the splotched, upended floorboards,  
while midnight footprints breathlessly creak,
cradling the demonizing affirmations whispered,
the very ones I knew would never become true.

We stood by, powerlessly spectating
as the love we once shared
gasped for air, red in the face,
its gushing carotid bulging in desperation,
four lungs incinerating themselves
with imminent anticipation
of the death gleaming
just over the horizon,
its violet hues juxtaposing
with the glimmering night skies
of faded constellations comprising the celestial
as moonlit silhouettes waltzed across the water,
a bright cerulean rippling in our presence,
the genesis of a journey unforeseen.

Brutal acceptance rains from my eyes,
a rumbling river that reigns supreme
over the rounded stones stacked high
as a towering dam of branches and rubble,
leftover waste long forgotten and forlorn;
hometown fantasies of childhood memories
linger longer than our lost loyalty,
liberating me from the rusted chains
you'd stapled into my brittle bones,
a leash tied tightly around my throat
to **** me from my courageous caution
back into the splintered wheel
dictating our selfish agendas,
empty promises of dilapidated affirmations
now turned weary and worn
with this newfound sense of reflection,
a dichotomy depicting time's own passage,
the consequence of a metamorphic resolution
of open wounds blossoming into eroded scars.  

Futuristic visions of lesions now mended
seamlessly fuse with renewed self-reception,
your broken promises stitched with the threads
ripped from the capillaries comprising my core,
blood-stained carpet of scarlet and crimson
fading into an aged and weathered maroon,
never truly waning in its acquainted pigment
yet blossoming into a stained fabric
portraying the promises of the past,
of decayed ruins now industriously erected
into a radiant utopia of gallant, rubious valor,
the final product of an unyielding resolve
to have our story rewritten, our own steadfast evolution.
Lua Orion Jan 2015
mother, the curtains are turning black and the boy I love will burry me in the pile that his sweaters belong and the termites eat the floor under our feet. father told me I would walk the **** side but all I want is those loving thoughts the birds and the bees have given me and my teacher told me that God is where our life is placed but the star dust and the revolution of planets seems so much more real than those snakes demonizing that poor girl who swings on her tire swing with her ghosts that share their thoughts about who's the biggest ***** in the town and maybe, just maybe, mother will say I love you and the door will remain white from all the truth it has told from behind those knobs and walls and the black curtains will fade to nothing as if the sun has never shone and that boy will cry himself to sleep with the thought of a gun and those stupid ******* birds will sing once more without a care in the world but they truly want to see the world explode, that's what their whole ******* chatter is all about.
this ones for Venus
Thomas Esparza Oct 2015
Demon
We all have our own.
Lurking inside.
Waiting for weakness.
The demon wants weakness.
So it may creep in.
Demonizing us.
To the point, in we give.
Fight the demon inside.
Fight the urges.
The feelings of worthlessness.
Self doubt.
The fears of lonelyness.
Fight the bottle.
The needle.
Put down that knife.
Fight the demon till there is no more to fight.
Fight cause you,re more.
Thanks to Karina Veirs for the helpful changes.
Ree Bunch Apr 2016
I always knew this day would come;
when these deceptive infrangible walls would be permeated like walls of hanging beads.
This roof blown away like dust.
These windows shattering like  candied sugar.
And me hiding in my poorly conspicuous place – under the bed;
cupping my mouth – holding back the terrified scream that’s sweltering at bay.
I haven’t blinked since I heard your intrusion.
I know you’ve come to do hideous acts; play out your unspoken, dark fantasies.
Terror and panic are demonizing my mind into a petrified state.
Tears begin to stream as I see you walk into the room….
You  s ...  l... o…  w....   l…  y…    approach the bed
you     c
         r
        o
       u
      c
     h
And our eyes meet, I see that evil twinkle of a hunter finally catching its prey.
Karijinbba Mar 2020
Ask to repost dear Poets
(Memoir excerpt /copy Rights)
*
Belated reponse.

Yes you said just a man not God
and I am a woman not G* but G* you needed a wife I needed a husband but you ran away gave the money to your other woman begging for it all

I been feeling differen4tly about you and can sincearly
say "I fell deeply in love with you" back then and today.

it's not out of time or place.
I stil live and after physical
I will continue to love you
beyound measure time & space
noone is harmed by this
its a benefit in a blessing
your world bathes in plenty
mine in total despair lack
oporyunities halted by undeserved enemy foe

And how was this ever fair
to not use a bank
you had my full legal name!

yet you are more to me
as you've moved on you burnt all
a man who patiently reads my mind near or far leaves
precious memories unlike
your ways saved me.

an amazing human being
you you you
reading this ink's body language
my thoughts are your thoughts

I needed you for my life partner
all my life
you needed me for your everything I was yours for the taking as you did.

you saved romance, your last dance for me.

your relatives for my daughers
to inter marry! I had a dream.
for my true love my all

then you jett off leaving me to die
my good trains rolling by
and still
something smoldering revives from those dreams on fire
ashes captured to form of us
my companion.
my beautiful kids loved you
to be their everything just for you to know
beauty brains heart are still theirs
You are the best father best husband best lover best friend
we could have had many adorable grandkids.

my  i love yous didn't matter to nobody it wasn't natural for me to believe it will matter to you.

Life is like a dream.
~~~~
When your gold key was distanced from my gold lock
left behind, I lost my mind
my speech stunt in deeper silence
and still I called you again.
just to hear you freeze.

Ehat 8n the wirld dud you lose ti know the truth that you were truly loved never betrayed.
You found me I found you again
now we are omnipresent
see me see you as we please
we love each other wholly good like the l9ve of Gid
in sun rays we are touched.

returning so many times to me you loved me so, and for your white lies, fear not I am trustworthy
apeace my soul please keep your HP windows open.

I will always think of you.
Nataly Wd or not.

In seeking I found you beloved
smeared in many a poetry
filled with love an Angel watching over me
"Angels whisper when I walk" when I jog, run crawl bathe rest eat feel pain despair, in joys of new lives birthed you are there

I looked into my whispering whimpering heaven's door this gold lock untouched
my gold key you inside that huge
key hole adjusted to fit
another sand lock.

My Guardian Archangel Uriel sing the sadest of songs Earth and Heaven can hear.

Aries Archangel Uriel is known
as a seraph, cherub, regent of the sun, flame of God,
angel of the divine presence, presider over Tartarus
(hell),
archangel of salvation, and, in later scriptures, identified with Phanuel ("face of God") Uriel is a patron of the arts in me

 The Angel Malahidael
 and the Archangel Ariel rule
 over Aries the sign mine
My angel Malahidael is
 “Angel of Courage.” This angel 
summons the energy of the sun­ 
by imparting a ray of sunlight 
inside each person giving that
­ person courage, stamina 
and hope 
during difficult personal tim­es
Are you feeling this?
 The Guardian Angel for those 
born in April Aries is mine  my Archangel guardian Angel
is Uriel, Ariel. 
She is known as the Goddess of 
nature living in me You may also recognize 
her other title shes

the Lioness of God which is the 
literal translation of her­ name
 Ariel Uriel heals the planets and animals 
of this world is also
 responsible­ for natural elements such as Earth, wind, water,
 and fire.
My guardian Angels role as archangel relates 
to inspiration. 
This could be through prov­iding
 inspiration for humanity in 
order to take better care of ­Earth and all life that calls it home.

perhaps it is because I couldn't tolerate the agony of a new common bubble gum key too big, too small out of time and place
splattering stink in selfish pride
each selfishly demanding untimely tasks suffering my lock
missing your gold key beloved.

pre paid seastone snakes where boys not men on cruel expedition demonizing character
Big Bear video greedy evil agendas.
Hungry yet never selling out
to this thugs for hire detectives
sent to me from your world!
I know now when to fight when not to I just share my inner core

I am not fighting In every war I faced defeat being lineant to my deadly enemy was my demise.

no one else was able to overpower this relentles unrequieted love birthed for you.
frim days of yore
no one tried to simply slowly uncover that love hidden within
I hid for us both!
to discover it's magic  
You were wealthier luckier organized surrounded by family and friends to offer support.
I was on my own!
I didn't want another love
but yours for me alone.

Roads interlinked many a time  
you were seized by another
less grassy needing less wear
O how you aged her wine!

that bone fish seastone beer
had an army to win you over
while I was fighting all alone
in my sand shifting battlefield
how to grab you from your
fortress ceized arenas.

Redeeming Angel mine
Angel Mihr Uriel Acquarious
beloved guardian lover
touch my whispering ink.
RBco eyes beloved.

"I am feeling dfferently about you"
~~~~~~~~~
By:Karijinbba
03/21/2020/
Copy Rights apply. revised
Guardian Angel whispering touching
do not repost..
RisingUp May 2017
Imagine opening your eyes in the morning
Yawning at the start of a new day

Birds chirp and the sun shines into your bedroom
As you begin to gain consciousness, you may think
"I'm excited to go to school today" or
"Work will be interesting"

But in my mind the bully steps onto the stage
Get moving, start doing, it endlessly berates
Sleeping in isn't an option today

What I should do is based on my thought out inadequacies
Too fat, too lazy, the gym is where you'll go
But I'm trying to exercise for wellness
Where's the distinction? I don't know.

You didn't accomplish much yesterday
Not enough was done
You should have been studying more
In my mind these thoughts run

You are not good enough
Endlessly on repeat
Overthinking everything
Sensitive to everything I eat.

Intense, strong emotions
cloud my mind
The bully in my head
Is never very kind.

"Just don't listen to it"
"You know that's not true"
But it's so natural and automatic
For years it's told me what to do

This same drive propelled me
To excel in school
To be athletic and involved
It was a useful tool

Before Gr. 12 it wasn't so harsh all the time
When it became more malicious
I am not so sure
I endlessly compare myself to everyone I encounter

So balance is what I'm trying to find
Its inclinations I'm trying to endure

---------------------------------------------------------­---------------

Each day a war
Each day a battle
Some are better than others
I'm striving for equilibrium
And to make peace with the bully

Demonizing the bully is not effective
Nor is dismissing its thoughts
Because bullies have their own muddled pasts
I believe my bully is a little girl that is fraught

She's trying to keep me in line
Aware of the passing of time
Anxious about what's to come
Believes in control, well at least some

I have always worried about the future
Unsure of what lies there
Control is an attempt to ensure success
In a world that is uncertain and unfair

I busy myself in an attempt to distract
But I get so busy I throw myself off track
Forget to focus on what I have learned
To recognize I needn't be so concerned

It seems as I cycle through periods of stress
When my mood and my mind are more of a mess
When my coping methods may not be the best
But rest assured I'm trying, I'm trying on this quest

The surface you see may not really be me
I try to put on a brave face
Decisions, the future, which were terrifying to me
I'm now living through, to discover who I'll be

Before I go to bed
With the bully still in my head
What quiets her is utter exhaustion
But what sustains me is an ember of hope
That what I've endured can help others
All I want to do is help others
And make a difference in someone else's life
To assist them in alleviating parts of their strife
Bob B Nov 2016
Trump continues his ongoing tirade
With baseless claims of voter fraud.
The more he rants and raves the more
We can all see through his façade.

He's what you call a "poor winner."
How easy it is to get his goat!
He just cannot stand the thought
That Clinton won the popular vote.

Demonizing the media therefore
Preoccupies Trump and his team.
Dumbing down the American public
Will be for them a constant theme.

The claims of voter fraud are only
An excuse to suppress voting rights--
An issue which must be added to
Our growing list of ongoing fights.

If we are not vigilant,
If instead we turn a blind eye
To what is really happening here,
Kiss democracy good-by.

- by Bob B (11-29-16)
Grace Jordan Dec 2016
If I close my eyes I smell the butter of fresh popcorn and hear the whirring of a laptop powerful and bright. Can taste the dichotomy of the crisp melting of the popped kernel in my mouth, feel the happiness of being in a desk chair in front of a screen and surrounded by books.

Then I open my eyes and see I have to edit everything I've written to be even vaguely coherent.

Happiness is hard when you're never satisfied. When the childhood curiosity stapled to your youthful lips never unpinned as you aged. Neither did the idealistic expectations. Couple that with a pessimistic anxiety disorder and a mood disorder to swing things between the two disparities and it gets a little more complicated.

I've been my most relieved and anxious in this place of empty, of nowhere, that I've settled myself into for the next three weeks. A piece of me enjoys the rest and possibilities. The other hates it for those exact reasons.

I need to breathe, I tell myself. Being so separate is my fault, I insist.

But another voice in my head pipes up quietly, offering a new idea. I'm demonizing myself for not being ideas, for not being normal, for not being one.

But perhaps be bipolar, in more ways than just disorder, is exactly what concocts the human I like being.

Perhaps the great empathetic thoughtfulness yet great introspection work so well in tandem.

Maybe the assertive extroversion yet pleasured isolation balance in their own, special way.

In a way, I might just need to look back on the old Sunday afternoon specials and speak to myself the lessons of their half-hour programs. In particular, admit maybe its ok if I'm weird. perhaps its ok I just be the own odd balance that is me.

The Nowhere, the empty, can be itchy with the possibilities sometimes. Yet these moments, that help me breathe through my own neurotics and idiosyncrasies, may just be the best kind of nothing.

Maybe the bothersome nowhere can also be something grand and great for me as well.

There perhaps is another side of nowhere, and perhaps it is my favorite.
Boaz Priestly Jan 2016
Something that really disgusts, and ruins shows for me, is when the writer's resort to demonizing transgender people as a shock factor. This has happened in Criminal Minds, and X-Files, and most likely a lot of other shows I've watched, that I don't care to remember right now. It is literally just so tactless, and horribly transphobic, and, for some of us, it can be triggering. I am not a monster. My brothers and sisters are not monsters. But, how we are treated by the media, THAT IS MONSTROUS. I am not a shock factor or a scare tactic. I do not go bump in the night. I am up close and personal. I am real. I am a human being, too. And, most of all, I am sick and tired of crap like this happening. It all leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Avestani Jun 2019
Like a festering burrowing worm I took root
Deep in your mind where you reject the truth
Bending and breaking your soul evermore
Demonizing all the saints you adore
Riveting cracks that I lay down your spine
Tingling wisdom you think so divine
Murderous words that you think cannot guide
Youre in your own way and still you are mine
I was the plauge that had ravaged the lands of your mind
This ****** is mine
I'm swallowing time
Consuming what's mine

Holy demonic the darkest of light
Angels of mercy that free you from life
You cannot **** till your demon is known
Facing yourself and now where do you go
The sun and the moon and the planets that move
Puppets on strings as you dance to their tune
Always neglecting the infinite soul
Wishing to listen and do as your told

Tell me to help and I offer my hand
Only grip tight till the moment you stand
Now you are moving your feet on the ground
Follow your path and the truth will be found
Whispering sins that you've long left untold
Now your emerging a sight to behold
Beauty and blessing but you've just begun
The faceless are laughing when you hold your tongue
Who are the voices that refuel your doubt
Where is the evil that brought forth your drought
Carrying on you may search the abyss
There's nothing to find you think somethings amiss

Nothing to gain and nothing to lose
To only one person your faith you must prove
I've given a gift that I've given myself
And tell unto you I did not need this help
Begging and crying you seek me for more
Lessons on trying can be such a bore
Tell me what's wrong
Why don't you tell me?
I already know
Then that sets you free

You wish to become, a much better you
So who do you lean on when you cannot move
I am just not a main part of your strength
Will nor the hammer will leave me unbent
I burdened my sin and I tortured my soul
All in the end just to see I am whole
All of my secrets you think I have told
All of my secrets to me are unknown
Where is the wisdom I've gifted myself
Where is the God you think spared me the belt
Where is the power you seek here on Earth
When you're alone and buried in dirt

I say that you have it
You ask me then where
I say that you have it
You freeze and you stare
I say you beg God's and spirits divine
To come down to earth and give you their time
They gave us all gifts we seal in our minds
I'm certain of yours but you're longing for mine
I say you are broken
I say you are fine
I say you are lonely
Now make up your mind
I say you're not perfect
But surely you've grown
Now prove to yourself that you sit on the throne
(essentially no different from any previous xmas, nor i presume indicative of that holly day time of year, when people put on a happy face while bullying, demonizing, and fake hosannahs  continue to thrive).

sinister concatenation pairs us with surreal morgue aisle
broken lives rent asunder from fanatics hell bent with bile
of poison spewing forth ******* up the moral compass dial

upending amity, comity, excitability with ferocity, hostility,
indelibly, indubitably, inexorably hissing illogic jabberwocky justifiably
linking extremist deadly credos bred among western nations

indicting pursuit of life, liberty and happiness wreaking deliberate havoc
awash with crimson tide of blood – dead set to jam the life lock
viz Leviathan of personal freedoms,
where secular westerners framed to mock
where extremist storied devout die hard believers dislike the rock
and roll of altruism, capitalism, nd liberalism, thus apply shock
tactics sans terroristic tactics with bombs that silently tick tock

inevitably heightening security
forcing ordinary citizens to be on high alert
watchful even at the slightest comment,
perhaps even an accidental curt
commentary invoking immediate military forces
to swoop down and exert
overpowering force donned with ammunition belt bristling as a girt
affecting innocence abroad and native population to freeze and become inert

casting dark silhouettes against the autumnal reign of light
where Mithraism plays out with immensely brutal might
blotting out the radiance of heavenly bliss affording active night
life to become shuttered as the cruel carnival pits pagan plight
against the jagged scrimmage line quite
arbitrarily drawn by maniacal foes for freedom trammel the right
to own democratic stance –
for said Jihadist Johnny come lately find a slight
lampooned their sacred held Islamic catechism inducing this tight
grip on Allah to fuel vengeance
for intimated transgressions that doth in vite

which violent polemics purposefully shear the very fiber of peace
pronounced with especial arduousness come holiday time
foisting a crease
along the fabric of westernization –
whereby founding fathers did grease
the figurative wheels of concomitant moist and meaty lifestyle
to experience strangulation as if from an invisible death knell lease.
Imanuel Baca Nov 2018
I mouth I love you, into the ocean wind that steals my sound.
I dream of you underneath, my love, in the water of your absence I drown.
Demonizing silken spider web lies cocooning my fragile heart.
Your hands slipped out of mine in the dark my love, but to turn on the light would tear me apart.
I miss you.
Axion Prelude Mar 2021
Even after what seems like ages in a span of time you think you've become okay, it's the littlest nuances that seem to contrive your whole existence from a single face and bring about all the forgotten things you use to do, and say and share with one of the most important people in your life, in a single moment. You think you're fine, and you haven't a means nor a purpose to remember the things that hurt you, so you simply don't.

Then, one day, there they are: someone you thought you'd never see again, all the same someone you never thought would invoke this demonizing sense of regret that just breaks you down into the moment and rattles you to the very bone with antagonizing nostalgia. And the flood of memories return, from every midnight walk to every moment spent talking, smiling and learning from one another. And it begins to make you cringe and hurt inside that what once was is no more, and this friend will never be a friend again.

What a cruel irony to think what were lost in a series of unfortunate events would eventually - and even, once upon a time, you thought to yourself "hopefully" - disappear and mean nothing, only for it all to come back; that daunting whisper in the back of your conscience telling you "you still care" all the while berating the question as to why you do. It may seem and feel complicated, but it's always so simple: they held great value to your life.

The most painful thing to feel in life is to lose someone important to you, permanently. But, those kinds of situations are easy enough to endure, considering their resolve is absolute - you can't do anything about someone passing away. But when it comes to someone who simply had to leave because of merely bad circumstance, nobody teaches you how to cope with that. And it becomes an incessant pain wandering in the desert of the mind struggling, trying to figure out what, if anything, there is for you to do to fix it. The most aching question of all isn't "how do I get past this?" - No.

The most aching of all questions is, how do you convince a shadow to come to life?
Tanisha Jackland Nov 2019
It's a balancing act.
We are kidding ourselves
if we don't accept it
and respect it.

America’s shadow
is projected
all over the Globe
and its not healthy
it is a sick child
waiting to be freed

but we repressed it
For far too long that now it
Is running the world

But not without
Demonizing it first
For it is
our deeper selves
out of balance
and a hero to most

Means freedom
For us to gather
as a collective
to heal ourselves
and to remain true

There must be light
For those who seek the
warm wisdom of the dawn

And there must be dark
For those who seek
to rest and heal
from its cool
effervescent shade

the balance of the
world will be shown
with love and simple
kindness

It all depends on you
Karijinbba May 2020
To this covid-02-19
virus nightmare
Nothing bad ever last
Nothing bad ever last!

To my absent family
Tortured covertly
drugged for years
Unbeknownst to them
by those they consider best friends
but are leathal impostors
nothing bad ever last
Nothing bad ever last!

To my unprovoked enemies
Nothing bad will ever last.
demonizing me
to my beloved kin
Nothing bad can last.
Nothing evil ever last.

This economic system collapse
covert pandemic WW3,
Millions dying unvaccinated
Billions unemployed dying
vaccines Pfizer containing
potassium cloride ingredients
given large dose then
dying unannounced.
this darkness too shall pass

Star light vessels we are
human spirit resilient armed
Nothing bad ever last.
Nothing bad ever last
Nothing bad ever last.
~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
Copy Rights 05-6-20
Nothing bad can ever last!
Graff1980 Aug 2021
This will not stop
till we block cops
who get bought off
by the corporate crooks
who cook their books
spicing them up with
human suffering
and the law system
that keeps buffering
cruel politicians,
preventing the poor
from rising
while the filthy rich
gets more by demoralizing
and demonizing
the poverty stricken
along with all those
who are different.

So, wicked men keep working
wedge issues into
every TV appearance
to give the appearance
of righteousness
while stifling
true social movements
that try to move men
towards the world were
we can all strive for betterment,

but for now, we barely even get
cheap out of court settlements.
Jon Moss Apr 2020
Feeling the pressure, system overload, building up about to explode
Before it blows, let it all flow, tear down government, it's time to go
It's the end of the line, off the tracks derailing, fares are too high, business failing
Robbed the people too much, put the coffin nail in, They are not great just robbers, **** taking nobbers
Protected by law, backed by coppers, tax and religion fills the coffers
Media generates hate, a TV brain wash ,fascist thugs are on the streets, get on our feet and squash
All ideologies that are twisted in the brain, we need to stop it now it's a runaway train
Feeling the pressure, system overload building up about to explode,
before it blows let it all flow and tear down government it's time to go
They sold of the housing, they sold off industry, they want to sell the NHS that saved me
I owe it my life, solidarity, to all abused by so called authority
With polices that **** people with disability, Spreading war and demonizing refugees
Whilst smugly smirking as mates dodge tax, men with money, scratch each others backs
They think that they can get away Scott free, making deals that affect you and me
And many would like to see them swing from a tree, for their type its the end of the line
It's the end of the line, reached the final destination, time to close this corrupt station
Had enough of fear and frustration, zero tolerance for a fascist nation

— The End —