"detonator" poems
slave is someone who does not have authority over their own lives slave is someone subservient controlled dominated by somebody something slave works very hard for little or no pay slave is property of somebody something slave is someone forced to obey
sycophant is someone servile who overly flatters more powerful individual for personal gain sycophant is bootlicker brown-noser fawner flunkey doormat lackey lap-dog yes-men parasite toad-eater (pause reposition) somebody possessed of excessive vanity may cultivate sycophant swarms
side by side they stand clothed in black not quite similar the one slightly taller possibly because the other suffers poor posture perhaps they are related because in odd way they appear alike or of same ilk yet upon closer scrutiny it becomes apparent they have very little or nothing in common the taller one with troubled sad eyes the other smiling obsequiously the taller one more muscular ***** from working menial labor the other with curved spine slumped shoulders because of undue bowing and crouching while blowing smoke up other people’s *****
sadist is someone who attains ****** gratification by inflicting physical pain shame to other people sadist is someone who delights in excessive cruelty degradation to others
********* is someone who achieves ****** pleasure from being hurt humiliated abused dominated punished often self-inflicted ********* is someone who enjoys being harmed misused mistreated ignored by others
sadomasochist is someone who gets ****** gratification by alternately or simultaneously enduring hurt causing pain to somebody else sadomasochist is combination of sadistic masochistic tendencies in someone who obtains ****** pleasure from inflicting submitting to pain cruelty
sycophant slave snakes up leg of movie actress dictator who gains pain through pleasure 2000 miles from equator IED cell phone detonator sycophant dilettante ***** up to sadistic art critic or publishing editor on escalator while below on main floor of shopping mall ice rink figure skater pirouettes bows to nominator surreptitiously bribed by infiltrator mutilator
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 4:38 AM UTC
Vague meanings to their words,
Do I hear
Mockingbirds?
Maybe understand their gist?
Help me see, Through the mist.
Make a comment,
Do no harm,
Feels good to spread some charm.
Suddenly
I've tripped a detonator, an
Explosion of indignant words,
Come flying out.
Now mistakes, can be made,
But let's tell it straight,
People set,
Vague incendiary device's.
Jul 26, 2025
Jul 26, 2025 at 12:17 PM UTC
he saw you there,
standing with your head held up high
he saw you there,
holding on to your pride.
voices scratching inside of your mind telling
you weren't scared—or at least
that's what you thought.
glimmer of hope enlighten this sorrow path
path full of broken memories,
screaming in your mind
your feet are bleeding
in cause of shattered dreams
but your feet
keep on stepping,
slowly but surely.
"No one can see this path," your mind whispers as you tip-toed.
little did you know,
he saw you.
he saw your pain,
the way you drag yourself when you walk
he noticed the dim of fright in your eyes as you talk.
slowly,
slowly,
he reached out to your
waves of black and white.
"I know what you've been through," he said
"let me help you."
words blown right across your cheek,
felt like as in haven
for the first time.
you felt
safe.
but no, you can't.
that little demon in your head tells
you're a detonator—you can never lay down on someone
they might explode with you.
you just shook your head and say,
"Don't. I don't want you to bleed like I did."
the same time as this detonator
explodes into spectrum of misadventures,
already choking on its pride.
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 11:15 AM UTC
i'm a pretender
a thin man in disguise
return to sender
with address hard pressed to find
considered a keeper
secrets about myself
i'm a deciever
some things i can not help
a reverse revolator
there are things i'll never tell
a strong detonator
wiring myself up to fail
Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 9:33 AM UTC
Travel seems to be the common detonator, yet it appears like quantity took over quality.
Am I dynamic enough - you might ask. Must I broadcast my every high, or hide my flaws even?
I don’t rely on my pictures exclusively because they lack ornaments displays. May I interest you with my thoughts instead?
Will you give me a chance to put my best foot forward without distractions?
Let’s be real... I’m making a genuine effort to connect with someone... I’m not here to convince the dating world I have life.
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 8:43 PM UTC
I will rub an extract of evil over the papers,
I will dispatch my feelings through the electric wires.
When
The anger and fear beat the inside of me,
When it is cold
And empty.
My abstract castle is unbreakable,
Inside its tower there is a smell of a wild smoke.
Fairies and mermaids
do not exist here.
Their false ensemble left a deposit
On yellow pages of "News" and "Truth".
Cocoon-rooms, detonator-heads,
And a den of the hungry monster inside you.
Intrigues are weaved by the city,
Their dream is
A blind chase after a dollar.
I am counting the floors of a building,
I am burning this life.
I am spitting on a free ticket
To a world raging in a gray palette.
We continue to stir mirages,
While time aimlessly runs,
While the burning math flies over the petrol canister.
A bitter moment
Will not become sweeter with a handful of coins.
I will go to the darkness,
Which is inside me,
To experience light.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
Time to smother, time to love her
time to hate and create another time to smother.
I was told upon my Mother's knees that days like these were few and far between, but I have seen the sloping of the shadows bearing arms.
Time to **** your brother baby, time to **** another maybe time to **** some time and more.
I'm sick and tired of being wired to the bomb,
press the detonator
save some time,
I'll see you later when the dust has settled and
the noise has died away.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 12:31 AM UTC
~
*I'm an exit wound
I'm a numinous obstacle
I'm about to make landfall
I'm about to break free
I'm a nerve ender
A fascinator
A purifier
A world populator
And I'm about to break through
I'm the push and pull
I'm a counter argument
I'm dissonance resistance
I'm viral replication
I'm about to break out
I'm a singularity
I'm a spark
I'm the perfect detonator
To mind and heart
And I'm about to break up
I'm a simulacra
I'm an oscillation
Made of breath only
I'm a living, moving imprint
Of what no longer is
Yet somehow seems to be*
~
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 2:02 PM UTC
green eyes watch me from across the table.
calculating, all-knowing.
but never sharing.
she flashes me a smile as if she weren't just thinking of all the ways she could hurt me,
**** me)*
i know if i deviate eye contact,
that'll be it.
the detonation of a bomb.
as childish as it may seem; i cannot bear to look into her eyes for longer than the 20 seconds it took for me to fall in love with her and her fixation on everything that is wrong with the world.
she pushes her hair back as she nonchalantly eviscerates my thoughts.
sifting through them before deciding on the one that will obliterate me almost immediately.
she leans in and kisses my neck
with a predetermined chain of events.
i've already calculated her next detrimental move
but am too infatuated to put an end to it.
the detonator serves her purpose while whispering into my ear;
i love you
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 5:12 PM UTC
I was busy placing detonators under the MIRROR FUN HOUSE,
pitching
piveting
images of
itself for and by
itself,
when I heard over the rusting intercom
the main fuses were being turned off for a
routine check up and I would be
again left, as every one is, every night,
in the dark and
all the better.
The bombs in my pockets reminded me they were
awake and impatient or otherwise
alive;
otherwise, their life,
like mine,
wouldn’t growing steadily
shorter.
The ferris wheel in the
distance without my glasses
a slowly rotating
flower of blinks;
I wished I could hear
the pistons
the generator
understand whatever is making that
Big Wheel turn
but instead I sliced at the end of
the plastic ends of my explosives
to make them a little more
homely and different and
mine.
I looked up into the
rectangle framing my face
while behind me a
rectangle framed the back of my
head framing the front of my
face framing the back of my
head framing the front of
me.
I ran my fingers through
the wires petting them
something pretty then
wished I could hang this
night above my kitchen sink,
just above my rubber plants,
as good luck for
the future,
the wishbone of my
gratitude.
Instead I pushed some
dirt with my fingertips
purposefully without reason
then let the
wire follow me from my back
pocket,
leading the way
for the end like
I would lead a be-speckled French bulldog,
if ever I would give in and
purchase such a friend.
I walked some distance
I don’t dare guess and
laid my body against a
tree,
I hope an Oak tree,
the roots
coddling my thighs and I
can see my breathe in the
darkness and I thought of
the spinning, blinking
stars.
I took the detonator from
my boot and before I
pressed the
don’t press
red button
I glanced over my shoulder
wondering why
I should make it,
before,
presto,
everything shattered,
every light seared the sky in a final
collision with it’s end sister
in the falling dark
and every piece of my
face and body leap
from the ground with it,
flying into a place
the darkness seemed
much brighter
from
here
and
I
was
happy
someone
had
left
the
light
on
for
me.
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 9:19 PM UTC
*I am an army of jealous marching,
Armed with guitars.
I am no conqueror,
Lording over roses,
But they won’t get near you.
You are a flower of your own.
Your tongue is a ninja.
A kunai is at my throat.
Your breasts…is a tactical unit.
I know what I want.
And I am easily angered.
Yes, you would see me
Slaughtering flying-kisses
With a Balisong;
Love letters for you--
Burned, gunpowder.
I would be on the watch
With a machine gun,
Guarding your heart.
And then you would call me
Weird.
You see, my heart has a detonator.
And if it's your wish to see me
Exploding, then let it be,
Yet do not pick the pieces,
The adjectives in the streets--
You will only make a lament
Out of them.
Dear,
I am just a blacksmith of words.
And your love…is a blazing fire.
I am at war
With your senses,
Your attention.
You are mine.*
© 2014 J.S.P.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 5:41 AM UTC
To understand, the ability to realize each aspect of a situation and accept it.
Now, do I understand myself? Does anybody? No... well, I don't.
I have the ability to confuse myself on levels beyond reach but I grasp the idea of the mystery.
Who am I? Will I be able to ever understand me?
I don't think anybody will ever understand themselves, yet, we still try to, only to cause self destruction.
Self destruction? You ask wondering how the discovery of oneself can destroy them, but the reality of it all is that somethings should be kept hidden, buried, indiscernible to prevent something disastrous from erupting on the inside of us.
No one understands how dangerous the human mind can be; we are atomic bombs waiting to explode and the detonator would be the discovery of oneself BUT we are forever in the dark... keep it that way.
The key to understanding yourself is realizing you need to remain a mystery.
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC
father takes a shower because he feels half full. in order to revere him in a detached way I have to run a hot bath and sit on the floor while holding a bar of soap with a plastic fork stuck in it and I have to be blind not to see it’s a sailboat. mother has to be blind not to see it’s an iron. I lift it to her unnoticed and there is only so long my hand can burn before it feels like a hand again. father makes his hands into bunny hands at his bare chest and hops into my mother who squeals and covers her mouth and allows her face to look as one who’s given up the ex-con. father removes his towel and she whips him with it and he goes naked laughing and swatting at hanging model planes the guns of which he reports to memory. she fixes him a plate of food knowing he’ll throw it from the roof and say he’d rather eat a bullet. when she is outside for the plate my father controls her with a remote he claims doubles as a detonator. she sees me kissing the ex-con and mouths goodbye like a paratrooper.
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 4:58 PM UTC
Head between your knees, put
your head between your knees.
Get under your desks and grab
your helmets. Fasten your safety
belts, and don't try to get up
until all of the warning lights
Stop flashing.
I'm a nuclear reactor with a thermal
detonator and you've brought me to
boiling, it's time for the fallout. Run
for cover, sprint to your shelters,
it's of no use. I will leave this land
barren, leave you for dead.
I will stand before you and ****
upon the grave sites of your
ancestors. There is nothing you
can do to stop me now. My blast
radius is growing exponentially
with each passing moment.
There are people fleeing in every
direction. They beg me to stop,
they pray for salvation, mercy,
they pray to a God who is no
longer listening. They have brought
this, upon themselves, today,
is judgement day, and I, am the beast.
I can feel your lifeblood pulsing beneath
my teeth. Beg me not to end your life.
Sep 9, 2010
Sep 9, 2010 at 1:14 PM UTC
Sixteen wasn't too far away
But I can remember it
Feel it
Like it was yesterday
Hearts beating out of chests
As if to reach for one another
Speaking language on skin
Goosebumps as braille
That only we could interpret
I do not remember every second we spent together
Only certain moments
Sacharrin memories that have stuck to my tongue
Can not be washed off with mouthwash or salt
They are far too sweet to erase
I do not remember it all
But I do remember feelings
I remember movement
The involuntary curve of upper the lip
Brought on by overwhelming delirium
Contentment
Happiness
I can feel your smile more than I can picture it
I can picture
The lone tear that would escape an eyelid
Every now and then in the heat of an argument
To remind us
That this is real
And it was
Our distance was never anything more than a few miles yet
We always stayed up to make sure
That the other
Was home safe
Tucked beneath the covers
After driving home
2am in pouring rain
It's funny how
Love comes in more than just four letters
In more than a word
In more than just saying it
An announcement
It comes in
Reminders
In ensuring well-being
In wishes
In thrown pennies into wells
In nostalgia
In remembering how lovely it is
I know we were never ideal
Maybe we fought way more than we should have
Our persistance got between us more than once
You a virgo
And I, a taurus
I'm sorry for being a bull
But I never meant to bully you
I used words like grenades all too often
I was a detonator
When I should have been shelter
Protectant
It was silly for me not to be
I was sixteen when I met you
And sixteen when I loved you
I'm older now
Slightly wiser than I was back then
But in reality
I'm no different
The scariest thing to me is that
It seems as if
Years are nothing more than days
It seems as if
This was all yesterday
That time hasn't even begun to graze our youthful skin
But it has
And it is
Time has touched us in ways I never imagined possible
We have already grown apart
Streched to other sides of country
Dipping our bones into different waters
But if there's something you've shown me
Something you've taught me
It's that
Your first love
Will always be your first love
Regardless of how life goes on
Regardless of who you meet
Where you go
What you see
Regardless of distance, time
Whatever it is
Your first love
Will always be your first love
And love,
You will always be
Mine.
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 4:00 AM UTC
When I said that what we had was a ticking time bomb,
I didn't expect you to push the detonator.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 12:00 AM UTC
sadness makes poetry bleed out
from under your bitten-down fingernails
every single time
the bitterness you taste in your coffee
reminds you of past mistakes
and bruises that you caused
fragments of vocabulary
start spilling out of your mouth
like caustic bottles in a nuclear plant
and windblown smiles tug at your hair,
making it hard to open your tired eyes
at the arsenic whiteness of fakeness
and casualties of war
the nation you grew up in
broke into pieces
and you shredded your memories into fine slivers
because each one is a detonator
under pressure in your lungs
and each breath is a death wish
choking your windpipe with salty kisses.
(a.m.c.)
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 1:04 AM UTC
I have special gifts, but I'm misunderstood
(It’s whispered I’m mad as a hatter).
That's because, when I choose, I'm a wisp of smoke;
A thin tendril of tenuous matter.
Sometimes, I'm a two dimensional plane,
Like a steam-rollered cat, only flatter.
I can be a glass sphere, full of poisonous gas,
Contemplating a reason to shatter,
Or a hot detonator on a hydrogen warhead
(Think lit cherry bomb—only fatter).
Today, I'm the link between monkey and man,
I don’t know if I’ll talk or I’ll chatter.
I just know that I’m special, very special, indeed,
Because when I show up—people scatter.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 2:17 PM UTC
Wired to the detonator
red and green to brown
let's make this dull place
light up
and push the plunger down.
The (mis)-management are arses
a prerequisite for the job
the main man is a plonker
a fifteen carat ****
But we have to do what we have to do
to see us through the day,
but I might just push the plunger down
and blow this lot away.
Words.
Two lines Ralph Fiennes
and don't be thinking coke
all I'm really asking is
would you like a smoke.
Down at the Old Vic
oooh,
theatres are so sick,
which is modern for
theatres are great and
you want to wonder
why I'm in
such a state.
Things are moving at a pace that I no longer keep
I'd rather stay in bed with you and
I'm not thinking sleep, but
'needs must when the devil drives'
I have to leave quite soon
so it's either push the plunger down
or howl out at the moon.
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 1:00 AM UTC
I think I'm gonna buy myself a bomb
to destroy this blasé mirage,
with a mortuaries brush and a bullet
I'll paint myself in blood to camouflage
the scars of belief etched upon
my scowling, juvenile face
a brainwashed idiocratic believer
following the languishing entity far up in space -
conscience ridden with bruises and hickies
flesh burns, prickles and stings
I'm merely a pawn, deluded with disdain,
one of thy lord's pathetic playthings
I don't need no one, anyone,
I'm the sole writer of my fate
the world will crumble 'neath my feet
as the Angels weep at it's sorry state
I'll **** the blood from life's
bare, fresh-skinned neck
piercing jugulars, cavorting with insanity
pulling continuous jokers from within my deck
and then you know what I'll do next?
As I push myself to the crowd's fore?
I'll active the dynamite strapped to my chest
and blow my writhing guts all over the floor -
Oh
I think I'm gonna buy myself a bomb,
hide the detonator in the waistband just above my hip,
then I'm gonna board a flight to America
and pay tribute to the despotic ruler I worship.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 4:53 PM UTC
Today's Bread Today
is the slogan.
Fresh wholemeal.
Purchase on August 1st
(freeze)
consume before August 31st
(same year)
The list of ingredients is
so long and complicated,
one would need a science
degree to understand it.
(all it is missing a detonator)
But it is fresh.
"Today's Bread Today"
Well, if that is the case,
then why don’t you say
best before tomorrow?
Aug 2, 2019
Aug 2, 2019 at 1:23 PM UTC
I can't feel myself
Am I even really here?
I can feel myself breathing
And I know its a silly fear,
But sometimes I wonder
If i'm actually here
On earth.
Am I invisible?
Why can't people notice me?
If i'm visible
Why do people look right through me?
Is it stupid,
To fear my own existence
Or have I noticed
A flaw in my design?
I can't breath right
Is that part of your plan?
I don't feel right
Like my soul was patched together
With cloth that doesn't even fit.
Silly creator
Don't make life that doesnt want to live
I'm a detonator
Who's time is messed up.
5
4
7
10
9
8
3
2
0
...
Nothing.
No big boom
Just silent despair.
Silly creator
You forgot to give me air.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 4:39 PM UTC
I've become the secrets
that were whispered at twilight.
They floated toward me silently,
but burned intensely-
becoming branded on
my skin.
It's not that I want to hide them,
but I also don't want to display them-
At least not to you, not anymore.
For the more you know, the more I risk
losing you, or perhaps myself.
You are, unknowingly, the detonator
of these explosive secrets.
They shine brightly, blindingly,
every time you come near.
I refuse to save myself
Destruction is inevitable.
The deeper you
understand the secrets, the closer your
essence creeps to the unseen button.
But you see, there's a catch. If I dare
stop you from treading near my end,
I risk bringing upon yours.
I refuse to save myself-
don't you understand?
The bursting of my secrets will yield
the most spectacular show of light.
For I will become the piercing white of the stars-
and you will be able to thrive within
the light of my destruction.
I can't keep my light
away from the one who loves it.
Instead I'll give you everything-
As is the price of secrets.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 2:27 PM UTC
A cracked frame
Broken smiles
The ink runs
Down the alley
Red spills
Into the doorway
I glow
The invisible tattoo
A translucent flame
Rage detonator
Molten eyes
Violence in three steps
Two steps
One
I glow
"Who goes there?"
Cheerless and pitiful
A short cry
Then stillness
I fade
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 8:41 PM UTC
I may have all the wires and fuses to make you explode,
But he will forever hold the detonator and take you anytime he want to.
-HIY
Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 8:17 AM UTC