"deter" poems
A little, twee serenade for you,
Or perhaps a sonnet for others,
I'm not asking for anything extravagant like, "I do."
Nor do I want you to scurry off beneath your couvers.
Where brother, art thou.
Although, to me, you're more of a sister.
To cradle you, here and now;
Under the galleria of lights, never to deter.
But...you're madly in love with another,
I know.
And it pains me to ask you, for I am not your prince, but a stranger.
It's probably too late, although...
I've mustered up a fragment of hope & courage to ask thee,
Will you go to Prom with me?
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 3:58 PM UTC
I knew the orange on the orange tree
you had an ache in your shoulders
uncomfortable in an unnatural way
yesterday I passed you talking to flowers
you hadn't moved you hadn't strayed
but hiding in the leaves was a forced disguise
the omens told me something quiet and unceasing
reminding me of a slumbering domesticated cat
dreaming of cutting yourself loose from truncated ease
dropping down from the branch with panther steps
licking fruit lips ripe with revealed acidic petals
riddled with a past you revelled mixing in with zest
shocking chances stepped in for the next dance
sleep taken aback by wings cut from a dark sky
the sidewalk pitted and cracked beneath the pounce
relief escaped the twigs with a spring like waking prey
pressing into night foliage shaken from a nice balance
as I saw you take control with nothing to mask your face
on the surface too smooth for violence
was laughter of glowing gloom to embarrass
and deter such rebellious arrogance
with a twist struggling from a lame curse
its flavours sharp against your sweetened perfume muscle
expecting you to build a limestone shed for tears
rather than take on the night with a mind to wrestle
the outside aches for your physical attraction
gaining courage from the purpose in your eyes
tense as the tightness of your dress' intention
demanding that my hands draw from such lines
the sinuous heat of pulsing flesh's invitation
curved upon seeds not chaste but not quite refined
which I try not loving with some cool disambiguation
you left me the taste of syrup of grenadine
too reputable to ripple vain red tipple eyed
on a table spilt with pink gin and mandarin
sharp teeth tingling a tartness into my hand
sliding slowly at a tilt like drops of sweat on skin
focus dwindling into the clasp of an escaping shade
wrapped carefully under soft rice paper and then
tucked under a heel with a pointed kick like a blade
only to feel you relent and burst open
soft in appeal again and again
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
Keep your American football
Your helmets and body armor
Rugby is the game for men
Bang on the head, a bleeding wound
Ten minutes off the pitch
Six stitches and a bandage
And the rugby player resumes
Take the hit, take the pain
The tackle must be made
The shattered bones just part of life
Worth the yardage gained
I've had the broken bones
The stitches in my head
I had the very worst
Because in a tackle I broke my neck
But it never did deter me
From the game that I so loved
I remember all the times
Shaking hands when smeared with blood
Yes rugby is a game for men
A game where pains the norm
A game for modern knights
A game where men are found
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC
Here I am sitting on my bedroom floor with a razor in my hand wondering if 155 days sober is enough to deter me from cutting again.
I have been so proud of myself for all of those days,
even when I was at one week and I didn’t think it was enough,
and even when I wanted to hurt myself so bad that I thought I might throw up.
I don’t want those days to have been for nothing,
but I can’t help but think of that time last summer when I was in a constant state of anxiety for 7 days straight during which I tried every trick to calm myself down,
and nothing worked, so I resorted to self harm.
Now my stress and anxiety have been building up for about a month,
and I am so exhausted that I actually did throw up,
and I can’t get up in the morning because I am so paralyzed by all my thoughts,
and I start thinking to myself
“What could be so bad about one little cut?”
Jul 9, 2022
Jul 9, 2022 at 7:06 PM UTC
The fox
runs alongside the astronaut,
who looks at a picture frame.
Around the fox’s neck, a white bandana.
There, on the spooky
moon, his only company is the fox colored aluminum.
The aluminum
fur of the fox
blends into the moonscape. The ship is empty aside from them and the spooky
remanence of the rest of the crew. As the lone astronaut
works to return home, his only comfort being the bandana
and the picture frame.
The frame
that holds a photo of a woman, standing before the ship of aluminum.
Tied around her hair, the bandana
which has since been given to the fox.
The memories it brings ever haunting the astronaut
making the moon ever more spooky.
The spooky
feeling is not eased by the frame
as the remains of passed astronauts
are trapped in this aluminum
ship, the lone survivors being the man and the fox.
He keeps his thoughts on the bandana.
Her bandana,
given to him on a dark and spooky
day, which he then gave to the fox
so he may pretend the woman in the frame
isn’t millions of miles away from them. A fox of aluminum
and a lonely astronaut.
The astronaut
chooses to focus on returning to the woman without her bandana.
He works tirelessly to get the aluminum
rocket ship off the spooky
and desolate moon, and back to earth, to see the woman in the frame.
By his side on this barren rock, looking up at him, stands the fox.
The astronaut refuses to let the spooky
atmosphere deter him from his goal of returning the bandana to the woman in the frame,
ever thankful for the company of the aluminum fox.
Oct 30, 2020
Oct 30, 2020 at 11:03 AM UTC
It seems I can only run so fast
From these demons intent on chasing me.
Only these demons have human faces,
And they do stupid human things
My screams do not deter them
My cries go unnoticed
And I'm not a strong runner.
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 1:12 AM UTC
For dead is where I begin, Indebted.
& that is where I’ll stay,
Despite the way I feel today
Despite my tiresome aversions
I will hang myself before the opportunity for any detour
Deter…
I will deter myself.
I will prove to myself, once again,
That I, am the master of my demise
The rue in ruin
My own failure
and then…
I’ll lay my head to rest.
For tomorrow is over.
A new beginning in which to distract away from a new
To make the same mistakes I’ve grown so familiar to…
To a broken neck, one in which reflects my irregularity
To walk with my head down…
Past the bridge of contemplation, contemplating-
suicide.
Despite refrain,
To spite restraint
To the end.
& never make it-
to the end,
My End.
I shall be received
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC
In many different tongues, each one love's manifestations,
Some even to me unknown until the very moment,expressed,
I keep talking to you, my divine lover,out of my passion,intense
For you brimming within. Distraught a bit, feeling left in the lurch
On pouring rain and thunder storm; but you know how firm I am!
I stood rooted here, lost all sense of time, queer, ever felt you near.
Then a sharp pain hit weakening my heart ,but couldn't deter me,
I am a cat of nine love lives, a species so stubborn, thrives in trust.
Dead of night it is , I keep vigil, perking up ears, eyeing skywards,
How do I know from, where would my only love, to me speak?
Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 2:56 PM UTC
If my love was personified as my hustle
I’d take you into my heart and never let you go.
I’d cling tight onto you and no matter how hard you fought
I wouldn’t let go
I’d let you know
You. Are. mine
No one elses
Your home is hear
Listen
to the beat reverberating through my chest
Cavity
Rotting me from the inside
You’d make me blind
Like an error
my mind
I wouldn’t understand how you infiltrated my veins
I’d kiss you like you were my forever
Love you in pure desperation
Because my present without you is bleak
At best I know that if I blink
the moment could pass
A risk I can’t take
Won’t
Never
Losing wouldn’t be an option
You would be my dream
you
the very earth that I walk on
The pillow I lay down on
I’d lay down
What ever I would have to
To make you my reality
I would blindly dive into the opportunity
to make my dreams come true
THEY wouldn’t deter me
I don’t need their
approval
permission
opinion
Not to love you
Because the core of me would want you
And the lack of THEM understanding my vision
Means that I’m about to make history
If my love was my hustle
We’d never end
You would be my dreams
And without you I would be nothing
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
And I want to say how irrevocably sorry I am…
That I did not open myself to the thought that you were a beacon of beautiful.
I did not love you enough to share you.
I did not give you anything to stand on.
I created a world for you that deterred love,
To deter pain.
Fought happiness to remain unscathed of disappointment.
You have created a black hole of your heart,
Nothing for anyone to fall into,
Grab hold of…
You have created a wall of your heart,
That slows down anything that could give it meaning …
Nothing means anything unless it is in relation to something else, someone else.
It is what matters here,
What we leave here,
For someone else to hold on to…
And you have given just enough to leave remnants of …
someone almost here
Almost alive
Almost open,
But nothing to hold on to.
I am sorry.
You are saddened.
You have created nothing to leave here,
And I never gave you the hope to hold on, that someone might stay here
Share here
Think gold
Of the sun adorning your
Being.
I am sorry that I didn’t see it,
They could have
They would have …
It was up to me
To let you feel…
To share you
//An Apology To Myself…
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
Better be feeling the best
Her hungry heart's at rest
Soaking in scarlet heat
To break her broken beat
As she waits and wonders why
Life hurts so much, then you die
Envy only everyone enjoyed
Demons deter, and she's destroyed
Dead down, deep inside
All the easier to hide
Living behind sweet smiling
All the while she is lying
Her eyes are heavy, its time for sleep
With secrets she can no longer keep
The water is cold
He has her hold
The pain, it leaves her head
And finally, she is dead
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 10:52 PM UTC
The gushing river through his interior landscape, runs very deep,
this surging Ganga, glaciers feed, is one of Himalayan profligacy.
Wouldn't stop, or deter a bit,on any eventuality; a mighty force it is.
his beloved sea, was moved by this, swelled up to meet midway, merge.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
water-slicked concrete
won't deter the idiots
from Snapchat selfies
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 8:34 PM UTC
Edinburgh, oh lovely Edinburgh
I visited you during a Scottish storm
But, it did not deter my fascination with your beautiful rich land,
which I had set out to soak up during my short welcoming stay
I saw castles and monuments
galleries and eateries
even little pubs and alleyways
that tickled my fascination
I took midnight strolls into the backstreets
and met lovely people who equally shared gratitude towards your wondrous land
And so, I leave temporarily at least
with a little something to say
"Thanks for the memories, I'll be back indefinitely,
with more love and awe to share than ever before!"
Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 1:31 PM UTC
I saw you on the news again, aiming lies at civilians
You work like a serf to abhor the herd, which was merged by Lords to bore and encore, like a trap door in a dungeon.
What you earth and managed has got me famished, like the dense or pretentious, the meek and the senseless
And type endings to the finest that cry less, the winos that digress, or the shyest who digest
The plate which was purchased, paid to feed liars by the loudest were poisoned by us rebels running incense to the proudest.
Violently passive when distracted, these masses wreck havoc to have their heads handed to them
Sullen sweet to deter, you lure and reserve what is versed or inferred or implied or implored
Like the goodbyed or complied or the ladies waiting with lunacy lining their luxury gowns
Your disheveled and neat demanding appearance has me locked down with pirates and principle pilots
Dulled sick, they spy less, echo with insist, enlist and exist
As terrorists and presidents
Marked with malice making misfits that were mocked and disgraced, maced or laced by daydreams and magicians to assist beggars behind blueprints constructing islands
Which make slaves in to riots that capture journalists under wide tense
To suspend or impend doom sent hell bent by your priestess
You conduct chaos with fast hints, but quit slow when engaged with your conscience
Touched by divine tricks
Decided and destined, best in business
Prince of the wise man
Captain of the compassionate
Comrades with the crack heads singing anthems in kingdoms
We are heartbreakers painting bad graffiti
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 12:07 AM UTC
After the devastation came recuperation.
New shoots had sprung with alacrity
enough to establish a presence
in that walled garden,
contained to a strip
barely big enough for date and citrus
to thrive.
The neighbour waited twenty one seasons,
and with each season saw
young shoots
replacing the old.
Imaging a future
where grass might escape the confines
of concrete and sea
neighbour chose to start the mower,
move beyond boundaries,
and mow and mow and mow.
It's been twenty three days now
and still blades whirr
day and night
each hour inducing fresh rubble
to deter shoots, new seeds, hope.
The neighbour will retreat soon,
beyond the wall,
being temporarily satiated
with reek and wreckage,
knowing a day shall arise to return
for the fruits of the land.
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC
She had eyes like a crater,
Innocent as any girl could be.
I think she had some bruises when I met her,
But it never seemed to deter me.
I chased her like a dog chasing tails,
Was only then I started to notice her ***** nails.
And then those Yellow eyes,
Blue and Yellow never look pretty to my mind.
She belled me with croaky breathes of air,
I rushed to her house shook and scared.
She was slumped against a wall with the choker she used to wear,
Strapped around her arm and specks of ***** in her hair.
She's got track marks like a craters,
Darkness lay dormant in her soul.
A once natural and elegant Beau,
Now alone in the world of ****** and Blow.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC
Shades of yellow cast on our dreams
Skin burning through layers of sunscreen
When gifts of foresight weigh on our beings
Let great powers grow evermore carefree
To satisfy eternity.
Empirical evidence against the empire’s truth
Makes humankind akin to a neurotic fool
Who comes to think that it’ll always nullify
Oh for we all must die!
Young and old both playing their games
Seduced by the baits of short-term gains
Unable to afford the bail out of prison
Wait for great powers to relieve this addiction
To satisfy eternity.
Spawns of decadence in the wake of our new tools
Let us deter suicide with the poisons that soothe
They all say everything will fall, to act seems futile
Oh for we all shall die!
Whether in shame or in desire
Must we forget all we’ve acquired
For yesterday’s pride, tomorrow’s glory
Shake hands with friends and slain the enemy
To satisfy eternity.
Jul 12, 2022
Jul 12, 2022 at 8:33 PM UTC
Once upon a time, I had the zeal of a thief with a mission, I knew what I wanted, I strived to get it, and failure did little to deter me. My heart pounded blood with fire, it acted with a vengeance filling me up with a strong desire, a hope, a future that all will be well, with time.
Time goes by quickly enough. With 24 years on my back, I am still in the same place as I was ten years ago but with less vigor. A state of hopelessness has made a nest in my crib, time seems to drag and I wait for my next big dream to come crumbling down once again.
The God I worshipped before has changed too, I have a new one, one who is more loving and has more enemies, the only problem is, the enemy is winning this fight of souls. I am down the drain of waste, slowly filling my belly with dirt and too distracted with the failure in front of me to spit out the filth from my lips.
I wake each day with a fresh brain, waiting to be filled up but soon afterwards, its filled with past failures, past pains, the past, the past, the past! Now, I know what you are thinking, move on, let the past be the past. I know all about moving on, I moved on from my ex, it took me more than a year but I am glad I let the ******* go (not that he is that bad!) but how can I move on from this? Every day is a reminder of the past, thing is, I don’t have to live in my past to be influenced by it, many times, the past is indeed my present.
The past has a bag of failures packed up to the brim, my present too is always marked with failure after failure. How can I make you understand the state of hopelessness that is eating at me? No, I am no saint, I am no good at many a thing, I wish I was also as good in getting over this, only problem is that it feels like a thousand galaxies have been set on my shoulders for me to carry.
This is what hopelessness means, I have a past that is too strong for me, a present that is dim each day and a future that is so bleak that looking at it only makes me sink deeper.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 7:16 AM UTC
The dust once settled,
needs to be shaken again,
which was trapped and bottled,
has to fly out to douse the flame
A long time passed, few friends I have earned
in this work of black and white, few shades I have burned
I lost my pace in the layout of this maze
got knocked out, now just the sky I can gaze
I am no stone, but I know to roll
I can play more, but I choose to fold
I have new horizons to reach
the rocky roads are always there to teach.
The dust wont deter me now with pain,
for I know, I will rise up again.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 5:02 AM UTC
Some days I feel like I'm the only one sitting on land mines of havoc and malarkey in hazardous debris
These bones, This body
Can't hold the weight of the weary world
My mind thinks otherwise
You see the **** upon my face, disdain you say
My flow of emotions, rolling, unsettling I hold an exterior of persistence
Climbing the highest mountain
Pulling, pushing, holding, (my inner guides lead me)
Tenacious, determined, forceful, unshakable (my hardy heart wont deter me)
One day you will see my silhouette from the mountain top - Just wait my dear
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 2:34 PM UTC
the house across the street
has been empty
for years
because the landlord can’t afford
to tear it down
or build a new one
and it won’t pass inspection
one lamp stays on
all day
all night
to deter the copper thieves
or any other broken soul
seeking shelter
from the streets
a child runs across the splintered floor
his feet black as tar
stinking of mildew and *****
a mother sinks into her soiled chair
but she tries
a trust-fund recipient rides his jet-ski
his oiled body
tanned and toned
a father, gleaming, takes a photo
and he flaunts
everyone has their own place in the world
in a trailer park
in a tent
in a split-level home
in a shelter
in a palace
but never on the pavement
beaten down
like a poorly-trained dog
blamed for the errors
of its master
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 11:38 AM UTC
You may be fooling everybody else, but you are not fooling me. I can see the show you put on to allow others the comfort of thinking you are okay, even though you are not. You do not want anyone to feel the pain of your shattered glass. The constant jokes and silly stories, used as a distraction to deter them from looking you in your eyes and seeing someone who is still stained from their past. They call you a jokester, and you like it, for you would rather be called goofy than bruised. You leave hints that grant a select few access to peek through the cracks, but hardly ever letting them see it all. If someone were to ask you, would you draw back the curtains and show them the full work in progress? I want you to realize that a stained glass window is more beautiful than a clean and clear one. You have the ability to show others that although previously broken, a stained glass window can become a masterpiece.
Sep 29, 2021
Sep 29, 2021 at 4:51 PM UTC
We all have seen
people,
places,
and different situations
that questions
everything we have learned,
believed,
seen,
and heard.
It is up to us whether to
label those things
as mere fallacies,
or to uphold them
as utter truths.
But this isn't always the case.
The process of acceptance
is not always easy.
It involves a lot of self-berating,
self-loathing,
listless moments,
melancholic states,
and finally,
reluctant adaption,
to the current norms,
notion,
and societal views,
that forces us to change
our views,
our versions of truths,
our perception of reality,
and our own self-image.
We must always beware
those situations; let it not
deter you.
For, dear, you are
what you are,
and what you believe;
your conviction,
your truths,
your freedom from
these mind-altering moments,
will not be taken away from you.
Do not let yourself
be washed away
by the waves of
fanaticism.
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 11:39 AM UTC
There was a girl named Peg Leg Peg,
Called her that because of her wooden leg,
She was known as the best in town,
Guys would come from miles around,
You see, Peg’s leg could detach,
For better access to her ******
And though it wasn’t ***** that bite,
There was the occasional termite,
But this did not seem to deter,
All the guys who called on her,
And though there were occasional cracks,
About how she held her stockings up with tacks,
All the guys would practically beg,
To put another notch in Peggy’s leg.
04-19-10.
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 7:32 PM UTC