"disables" poems
*This view from my window
Its why I moved in
This view from my window
Has kept me in
This view from my window shows a world of hope
This view from my window disables me to cope
This view from my window allows me to stay inside
This view from my window
Allows me to hide
From the ouside world
Im kept safe inside
But it is from my inside that I must hide
Im pushindg and trying to get up and out
From this view from my window
Please let me out
Incapacitated, rejected, scorned , and deprived
Of what this view from my window has on the other side*
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
Stuck in a straight jacket
That detaches from humanities
That disables civilized thinking
It strangles your insides
And steals compassion
And your breath of life
Withers inside this chasten
In this rubber room
Who’s pads make up your apathetical existence
You rot here like the ***** you take
You die here
Unless you bleed yourself of disrespect
Unless you bleed yourself of disinterest
Unless you bleed yourself of narcissism
Who cares
Your worthless in this state anyway
Find purpose in empathy
Or die here
Exist out of the minds of others
Others who have collective respect
Collective understanding
Collective empathy
And open mindedness
You’re locked here cause you prejudge
Guarded by your own stubbornness
You don’t accept
That you don’t know everyone’s story
You can’t know
You judge anyway
That hippie over there
He’s not a ***** loser
He has a family he loves
Worked hard in construction
And overcame a destructive alcohol and drug abuse
He’s better than you
He’s empathetic
Loving
Understanding
And embraces everyone
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 12:00 AM UTC
Maybe in another universe are we all free
Maybe in another universe do we have our own will
Maybe in another universe do we tame sin and advocate prosperity
Maybe in another universe do we encourage diversity
Maybe in another universe do we differentiate based on morals and not plain ethnic variety
Maybe in another universe are we in control of our own minds, and bodies
Maybe in another universe do we think for ourselves rather than follow others' paths
Maybe in another universe are we not in denial of invisible surrounded hierarchy
That divides us.
That feeds us.
That maneuvers us.
That disables us.
That obtains us.
And proclaims us theirs.
Maybe in another universe...
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 1:10 PM UTC
fallow lay in a field, neath soil well over-tilled,
the bones of explanations, excuses, and desperation,
a singular self-destructive but upward thrusted commandment,
compose a poem of revelation,
a poem of destiny and unknown destination
of thee, I write, ashen standing,
with the poker face of a lying son,
before the father confessor mirror,
stand with palms facing outward,
with perfect calm and utter fright
for every nominated error listed below,
when confronted,
hopeless the innocence,
easier now to admit,
with perfect clarity, your innermost
confabulatory familiar friends,
rise to the fire,
first and foremost
belabor not with supposed ratiocinations,
put aside, your ration of
conjured up-for-all, and-all-for-naught excuses,
the prosecutors charges, so thoroughly distinguished,
it disables, speech, vision, all reason extinguished
as the lips and fingers silent move,
the hopeless knowledge of a pardon of 99.9%,
untenable, ransacks,
for what passerby criminal thought
has not resided in your head,
the hearth of who you are?
you,
write of nature, love, celestial notions,
the Etcetera's of life, but to me,
leave the exposure of our uncompressed,
here revealed sinning,
for among those who
unashamedly acknowledge
the intertwining nature of
human failings, and for the balance,
uncap our divine imagery
you write at of those other
nuanced pleasures,
nature, love, celestial notions,
while the sinners wrestle with
the angelic demons of
confrontation and revelation
for your own sake and saving,
do not wrestle with me
for sinners love, welcome
company
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 6:54 PM UTC
Love is a blazing furnace in ones soul.
I have forged unforgettable emotions and experiences in the fires of such Love.
They are the unshatterable, tormenting, over thought feelings you get when you are all alone, and no one is around watching you. True Loneliness.
These emotions are the most genuine, most authentic emotions I've ever felt. That is what makes these emotions the most terrifying.
Ha, what a funny thing Loneliness is.
A child of Love, a sibling of Happiness.
You are truly alone when you simply cannot feel.
Anger? Sadness? These are emotions which comfort you, and drive you in some way.
Ah, but Loneliness is the only emotion in the repertoire of the mind which truly disables.
Loneliness is the devil of the mind. A disgusting, terrifying, sheer amazing thing to feel.
Disgusting because of the sinister thoughts it conjures in your sorry mind.
Terrifying because you are paralysed. Unable to escape the thick, cold, jail cell of your own mind. In this, there is no comparable equal.
Amazing because it is truly a fascinating thing that a human being should be subjected to such an incredibly powerful emotion.
Loneliness is the great evil of ones Soul.
Pray that when you meet it, you're strong enough to endure it's everlasting torture.
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 10:12 AM UTC
As I was a child,
Unlike the normal mass.
I wanted to be the nightingale
The best in class.
A habit I planted,
In the Garden of Eden.
Watered by the grief of my past,
As it grew taller, the fruit sweetened.
I had sinned,
Profited from competition’s demise.
Stole his talent,
Grew in age but not that wise.
What enables, divine
What disables, human.
Got out of luck and empathy,
In apathy, like an ungrateful yeoman.
Couldn't wash the mirror,
Need to wash my face.
Blinded by my addiction of fame,
Embryonic, falling from the summit in rage.
Now I am a pavement artist,
Pride and sin hath a fall.
Living with and like stray,
Failing my life as the nature called.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 12:31 AM UTC
hey, god,
can you explain this artificial, chemically grown form of love?
if this love thing's so wonderful,
why is it assigned like some ******* chore?
some combination of cells grosses from your genitalia
and now you have some new tax deductions and soccer games to see.
is love an emotion?
you endure it and feel it like it's turned your bones into wind chimes?
is love an adjective?
does that soup taste of love? does her hair reek of love?
is love a noun?
can you hold it and touch it? can you sew it to your t-shirt?
is love made in a factory?
a touch of obligation, a handful of selflessness?
is love a seed that's planted?
does it break through the earth and climb towards the sun?
is love a song you write?
do a few measly chords grow into music after time spent strumming your heart strings?
the earth is coated in conditions,
so how does this conditionless concept thrive
in an atmosphere that condemns it?
and why, god, why,
do i appear to be the only one who questions it?
why can't i feel it, understand it, grasp it,
when the rest of the world breathes it like oxygen?
the faithless can mold it,
the faithful live for it.
so what catastrophic flaw is lodged into my brain that disables me to feel it?
to comprehend it?
to accept it?
how can it exist in so many dimensions?
is it like the flu, do you catch it?
is like a piece of art, do you create it?
is it like your mother's crooked nose, do you inherit it?
and how
can a mother look at her newborn
not knowing its intentions, its personality, its thoughts
and feel sunshine that
is rooted in the bottom of
her soul?
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 9:30 AM UTC
the clamouring noise of our times
hides the holy - disables our noticing
yet there are off-beats of time we can attend
the clamouring noise of our minds
consumes our attention - distracts our soul
yet systolic beats of thought name our noticings
between the memes of our times
are counter balancing sensibilities
to pause our conviction - to open our hearts
between the memes of our minds
are roots of tradition and wisdom
to complete and challenge our understanding
so to extend our fervent hopes to good purpose
so to embrace the silence - and find blessing
Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 11:36 PM UTC
thumbs **** back black glocs
heat’s on head’s gone
pull it for the crack rock
heaving thick and heavy haze
white and green all mix with red
ticking tendrils round the numbers
seconds are fast after taking life
over grains of time suicide
untouched potential left so
in the wake of pooling blood
tick tock tick tock and time turns the tables
clocks give more gut rot than one-fifty-one
panic over life’s deadlines disables
the mind from seeing anything but guns
and chaos and filth under fate’s tight spun
web of lies keeping eyes fixed on fables
of flies that cannot overpower fate
though they try but have you really tried to
take flight mister fly or have you simply
seen your friends cry and put away your wings
acceptance is the simplest way to die
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 2:23 AM UTC
Synthetic eyes crystalize an unforseeable magic
A deceptively sound mind warps and unbelievable logic
A body willingly disables as victim to an unchained spirit mystic
Hereby deemed 'society's most unfit,' this one is undeservingly crowned 'the lunatic'
Whether it's the brain that's fried or the mind that's been set free
A different viewpoint of the world is someone's whole reality
We all work in mysterious ways nobody else can see
No mind is any less, more incorrect, than that of society
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
i am a slave to love
it drags me constantly
never letting me go
it eats my soul
disables me
swallows me whole
calms me.
it is so irresistable
i want to resist
i want to leave
but i want it
i am its freak
lock me in its box
tell me you love me
for i am dreadfully lost
(b.d.s.)
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 8:18 PM UTC
A laughter is just a flight of a moment
made of straws that wither and burn
On the summer it glows and shows
In the winter it faints and hides
awaiting the cycle of redemption
Happiness is forever, a fulfilment
the contextual locked in filaments
When the sun strokes it matches
In the coldness it dances proud
It is ever present and sustaining
Sorrow is a transient melancholy
A thunder strike that disables all
In the warmth of the day it cries
It unfolds like a starving toddler
A disabling concept that lives and dies
Loneliness is a key to happiness
A journey of self awareness and love
It taunts like a recurrent cancer
It screams until lessons are echoed
with infinite possibilities locked to self
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 3:56 PM UTC
Lightening striking
My temples bulge
I am not liking
Natures hold
Another stressful day ahead
Surging so strong
Perhaps, I should spend this day in bed
Or until my life is gone
Thunder crashing right on through
Reminding me of His power
Circumstances in the past He has enabled me to do
How dare I cower!
I must trudge through
Get up and strive
Conquer all that disables
Become alive!!
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 11:33 PM UTC
It is now a new Day
The sun will shine when it rises
The day is ahead of the light
Say it is today now
Even with No Sunlight
Today started without it
Strongly enough
The birds seem to start there day
Just a bit before the sun rise
About 4AM
Surely there are people without electricity
Their day goes from can to can't
See
Photons Take 70,000 years to reach
The Surface of the Sun
From it's Molten Core
Then 8 Hours from there to lend light to day
There must be a reason for night and day
Life and death
Or
Is this serendipity
I doubt that all we know as existence and consciousness
Is not supposed to be it is.
Jesus said to the Disables
When they wanted to know what [ was] the buzz] ('Andrew Loud Weber, and Tim Race "Jesus Christ Superstar')
Jesus said "why think about bout tomorrow
Today is at hand"
Why complicate things.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 12:34 AM UTC
Do you really think you're never gonna die
The day shall come, you'll know this was all a lie
'Tis, a four day journey
Two days of desire, two days of pie
No one knows what's gonna happen in the grave,
Once the man's put, nothing wakes up the dark eye
The punishment he pays for, is not seen but felt
The wealth he gave his life for, is nowhere at sight
His life was just the same as of a potato blight,
When he was asked to look at the beneficial light
But he didn't bat an eye at the given advice
Nor did he take a look at his hair full of lice
Everyday he would eat a full plate rice,
Still no sign of thankfulness, despite
Was he deaf, or was he blind
Even the disables are not as lost as he was at night
The whole story seemed like a joke to him,
But sorry, it's too late to make everything right (while being placed in the coffin)
Anyways it's too late to write,
Let me have an apple to bite
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 2:45 PM UTC
"Skuff marks" he says
with disgust in his voice
and he looks at my shoes
and says, "Garbage."
We both knew from before
what they'd do to his floor
but I wore them
in spite of the carnage.
They went with the look
I snuck into my nook
and plastered the heels with
green lables.
"Advance Directives" now
"Floor Protectives"
the scuffle and stuff
it disables.
I don't advertise
my messes or lies
they just find themselves out
and what's more...
I simply rely on
the passing of time
now it's green from my heels
on the floor.
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 12:35 AM UTC
The thing we poets have all been at before.
The thing that takes our creativity and throws It out the window.
The thing that disables us from saying what we truly mean.
Yet we always find a way.
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
ARE YOU,
waisting your headspace
with chatter that disables
and vibrations of negative thoughts.
BEEN THERE. DONE THAT.
Are you drained from the constant old story
of judgements, fears, and doubts.
BEEN THERE. DONE THAT.
NOW, I fill headspace of a sacred vessel
with positive thoughts that align self with love.
NOW, I fill my temple with light
in breath to move orchestrating change
for the good of Humanity.
NOW, I am in gratitude to life
as I move knowing things are unfolding
inside divine timing.
ARE YOU,
ready to stand in your power
as an authentic human
capable of living out your dreams?
I am and take the reins
to stand awake, and alive connected
to the vibration of love.
ARE YOU READY?
Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 10:46 AM UTC
Countless songs sing your might
and your brawny romance with us.
The kiss, the sigh I return in moonlight
seems so weak.
But that is my puny judgement,
for when I am in the clutches of love
when I allow its vast waves to overtake me
I can get up from my sleepy lazy state
and stretch my muscle and bone,
walk toward your pain or joy with a stride and demeanor
no masculine actor could ever emulate.
Yet you are the mortar full of feeling
the octane of which clamors a symphony of sound
I cannot even hear
but feel it in my chest and biceps and thighs.
Your sadness clouds the stars
your joy makes them beam
your anger burns bright and hot in them.
So how can I hurt you?
Above all, by my indifference
when I break free and flee your embrace
when I strike you in the face
and punch you in the gut
with my pride, lust
and magnitudes of madness
my shame brings tears to my eyes.
It is not a shame that disables me
but awakens me to my limits.
How you must fear my freedom
because of what I have done,
what I do with it in my life?
How lonely you must feel when I abandon you
in favor of pleasure or hubris!
If you are invincible and lord of the cosmos
how would you make yourself so powerless
and vulnerable to emotions?
Because you sparked the creation
of my species and my planet
and even became human
to show us the profusion of love,
sensations and sentiments possible.
Including hurt.
May 12, 2023
May 12, 2023 at 11:14 PM UTC
A never ending well
You fall
And you fall and fall and fall,
Yet you never plummet
It’s sad and terrifying, yet reassuring,
All at the same time.
Some may attack this part of me, calling it an illness, and at times where my fear strikes and I begin to feel the fingers of everyone I love, detach, I see it as such - an illness - too.
Overthinking has, in some way, crippled my ability to just be,
To live in the moment.
Some nights, it is my only companion, tucking me into bed, playing with my hair, letting me know I’m not alone, never, not entirely.
Sometimes, when the world aims its’ horrendous acts of violence, like heartbreak and disappointment,
Overthinking wraps it’s arms around my stomach and disables me from thinking straight and in some ****** up way, it might be asking me to stop, turn back, and walk the furthest away from them as possible.
In some ****** up way, it’s helping me see things clearly
But I never listen.
I don’t think it works that way for me.
No matter how many warning signs, red flags appear in front of me,
Sometimes all I want to do is wither the storm and hope I come out of it alive.
Maybe in some ****** up way, I believe this would make me stronger, even though that has caused me to break into even smaller pieces than imaginable.
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 8:59 AM UTC
You've been the only one to make me smile in some years
Though you've differentiated from those other females
You put something inside me
But a question mark remained there for a while
Was it care? Love? Or maybe sympathy for my past?
Long after, that question mark had vanished and I figured it out
Sympathy didn't fit into the category
Our long walks, hour talks, and etc resembled care
But that last one was still a mystery
I didn't know what that last one was
Physically or emotionally
Sure, people say it all the time to me
But it mentally disables me when asked about someone else
Maybe because of my disheartening past that cripples me and doesn't allow me to use that word
That I don't know what it is
But you've put something special inside of me
It makes me think of you randomly
It makes me want to be with you all the time
It makes me feel attached to you
Like you emotionally belong to me
When then I've suddenly realized what you put in me
When I'm around you, I get this warming feeling inside which brings out my smile
It was simply amazing
What you put in me makes me feel like I understand what my mind has been blocking me from
What you put in me was love
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 3:40 AM UTC