"disabling" poems
Amidst the excitement
over disabling drinks and drugs
and hasty hook ups
there is a silence that exists
because nobody talks.
Nobody talks.
Demons fill the air
intoxicating your emotions
and you're alone.
Parties shouldn't be lonely,
should they?
There are masked people
segregated
except for one girl
whose face shines
the mask blocking her light
like an eclipse.
And she's not here.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
No energy
No power
Karmic synergy
Getting lower
Wish I was free
Wish I was alive
When you look at me
I'm lost in time
An anchor weighs me down
An immovable frown
A disabling crown
A talent, so pure
Can sometimes be the cure
For broken souls
My heart is as black as coal
I am blind and cannot see
Someone end my disability
Jan 21, 2011
Jan 21, 2011 at 2:07 PM UTC
He knows what he's doing
a cruel manipulative mind
An almost 'split personality'
greatly disturbed I find
I thought I was free
as one situation disappears
but now another has arrived
tapping into all of my fears
It has all the same ingredients
but now served by a different spoon
my strength and sanity tainted
a different person singing the same tune
Playing evil mind games
telling ***** lies
witholding information.
He's like a devil in disguise!
This to me is so much worse
than someone yelling in my face
It's without a resolution
so I sit here alone, and wait
I fear vulnerability
it's been a dangerous place for me
his actions take me back there
then through the fog I cannot see
The control is no longer mine
I've never even been close
I can be toyed with anytime
by a wolf in sheeps clothes
So how can I protect myself
when I'm once again a vulnerable girl
disabling rational thinking
causing my mind and head to swirl
Others around me don't sense the threat
He doesn't look a menacing case
but he's repeating abusive behaviour
deceit is written all over his face
It's a lonely, frightening situation
I can't yet see a way out
I need protection from a loved one
who can be the one to stand up and shout
How can I explain
that this idiot really frightens me?
I'm feeling so insecure
I just want to be held you see
I want you to tell me he can't hurt me
you wouldn't let him so
just hold me a little closer
as I'm not sure that I can cope.
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
Amaze me
Free me from my own reason
My complication
Mesmerize me
Ban me to your mystical prison
Your temptation
Amaze me
If you think I’m a keeper
Mesmerize me
I’m a high sensation seeker
Amaze me
When waves are too high to ignore
Mesmerize me
When they crash at the shore
Amaze me
Turn my life into a fairy tale
Mesmerize me
With every innocent detail
Amaze me
Through joyful moments that forever stay
Mesmerize me
Through the disabling boredom of everyday
Amaze me
As long as I worship you today
One day, another might block your way
So mesmerize me
To a point you abuse my head
Be the med, and drug me instead
We are poetry and symphony
Creating the ultimate synergy
Take the challenge
Keep the balance
And vacuum tears of joy out of me
Forever amaze me
Until I feel nothing but you
Forever mesmerize me
And I shall mesmerize you too
~Epic Monkey
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 2:47 AM UTC
There're swords,
lots of them,
and long-bows,
with fresh, eager arrows
jostle with notched expert axes;
legendary hair frame braided beards
flowing into refilled tankards
drowning curses through broken teeth
gnawing at poor personal hygiene
across the stench of the public tavern
as granite-stares challenge
bone-shattering laughter.
-
All as anticipated -
there's Orcs about
and the prescribed heroes assemble.
-
-
Slow rolling leaden mist cloaks howling creatures at dawn
from deep within the forest,
then disabling rain falls at dusk
and steel clashes with steel in the storm…
-
All these exploits ferment short of full strength
and stretch onto a wide Winter screen
before facing the final critical battle
for a 12A Christmas.
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
Broken hearts are lost, confined and chained to the wall
by a chain link fence so sharp and strong;
disabling a soul from moving on.
Combustive beating heart,
distrusting evil ****
she ****** me over and drifted away
like a formaldehyde ****
Jun 19, 2010
Jun 19, 2010 at 8:29 PM UTC
The clock is filled with mockery
As its ticks and tocks
Ring in my ears for centuries
I watch the sun slowly set
Knowing it will rise once again
Having lost the uncertainty
That ensured my happiness' existence
For those whom I
Once shared life with
Have long left this world
And I will never know their fate
I will never experience
What galvanizes my curiosity the most
For we have
Unintentionally ended our lives
By disabling their ability to end
Causing a truly perpetual imperial affliction
As wishing for more
And for less simultaneously
Often causes
My eternal regret
Is that of greed
And disregard
For immortal consequences
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
room for members only
inclusion to the party or left outside
for some reason, you’re not good enough - - - go away!
racks and rows of sorrowful pain come beating, like rain
in an endless circuit, it runs a spool
subtlety plays its wicked game of tug and pull, and horror is a resident in a dilapidated hostel
croakers dive into lucky packets, curing ails by tearing off layers of skin
these leechcrafters perfect the axiom, regurgitating sedatives to enact fever struck pattern
sawing bones into finest dust stream, disabling balm by wilting growth
only the knowers know what’s happening
keep the outsiders out
it’s a secret party - - - not all are welcomed
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 5:06 AM UTC
full of anxiety
don't know what to do
take a pause that refreshes ~ and ask
what would my soul do?
fear is disabling
I feel like fleeing or fighting
take a pause that refreshes ~ and ask
what would my soul do?
anger is so powerful
it builds up to implode or explode
take a pause that refreshes ~ and ask
what would my soul do?
I have a habit
that keeps repeating itself
take a pause that refreshes ~ and ask
what would my soul do?
My habit is still there
do I beat myself up?
take a pause that refreshes ~ and ask
what would my soul do?
it takes practice and compassion
to engage our soul
take a pause that refreshes ~
as we allow our soul to grow
Nov 15, 2010
Nov 15, 2010 at 6:01 AM UTC
Deployment confirmed, Flight Leader at ready
Mission parameters locked in the pipe
Target subsystem structures, hold the course steady
The last thing I want is a wipe
Miles of shrapnel, anti-drone hail
My brave flight cut down by a half
Magnetics engaged, we land on her tail
Free at last from hot metal and chaff
There can be no defense for this aft rail dispenser
Plasma torches will have out her heart
A soft spot at last on the tactical sensor
One final call and this party can start
"Flight Leader here, subsystem disabled"
"Prophet tactical, fire at will"
A surge of blue plasma, the deadly beam arc
We andrones must die with our ****
No graves will be dug for this 'drone flight destroyed
Disabling that aft rail smoke-caster
But our sacrifice bought what the Prophet predicted
Elegiac ion disaster
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 3:19 AM UTC
365Nectar #49 Clean Out Your Basement
Mon. November 11, 2013 10:25 P.M.
Half-crazed like a naked savage...
stillness speaks
clamoring for attention in startling fresh expression
conjuring false memories of purity...
Cheering unsuccessful progress
in an attempt to preserve non-existent dominance...
Cosigned on civilized barbarity at an interest rate of 36% compounded annually...
The survival of a naked castaway
Perfectly unbalanced symmetry, that's slightly consistent, in a feeble attempt to compensate for weak genetic inheritance
Bathing **** in a ****** religion of bewildering complexity...
Relatively fluent in ungoverned profanities...
intentional involvement in ******** and lies
Aggressive mental exploits inflate illusion
disabling direction...
Gullible digestion of prescribed placebo
claiming cure of a Curiosity Coma...
STOP hoarding evidence of stupidity...
911 radical refinement...
...CLEAN OUT YOUR BASEMENT.
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 11:39 PM UTC
There are poor neighborhoods
that are tucked into towns,
where the less educated,
where the lesser of means,
find in the dregs, the ability
to coexist with higher society.
Society is grown to the point of disease,
killing the feeble, disabling the lost,
in the name of and for some ease.
So here comes the city, meaning so well.
They said, "Let's add a train line
to a town that has none!"
Well, there goes the block.
There go the people who
barely have homes.
The Council wants to drop a line
where they see shoes bounce power lines.
What's the harm in displacing
the part of the community already dead?
The town now seems to be just fine
now that the poor are paying fines.
Why not double down and just
gentrify when history tells the story best?
Expand Portland, rid Tigard of blemish,
trade your rug for cement and track.
Beautify Tigard, please your ill desire,
don't be surprised when your eyesore
comes back.
Go ahead, pave your poverty.
Go ahead, clean your streets.
You're thinking, "Lines for dimes."
What do you think a new line means?
What do you think the traffic brings?
The sweet guillotine repeats.
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 11:27 PM UTC
He glanced over at the counter,
Knowing exactly what was there,
This is the only way,
It made sense.
“No...”
The thought circled--
the voice;
"yes, do it baby, nothing is as sweet, everything will be better."
Euphoria.
A deep breath
and another
and another
fury engulfed his being
knuckles hit wall
again
again
again
blood flushed through the newly opened skin
****
Shaking
The urge was strong
Disabling
He was weak
No match for this devil.
On his feet, he walked to the counter
Reached behind the plywood
His prized casing.
Simple, silver.
Cold.
Freedom.
His hand throbbed
His mind paid no attention
I have you now
You are worthless.
You are mine.
What am I waiting for..
Trembling hands
Another breath.
Concentrate.
These were his best friends
They knew him better than he knew himself
The blades.
Exhale.
Careful.
He lifted one out
Thin
Long
Sharp
Perfect
Freedom
Twirling it in his fingers
Smiling ear to ear
DO IT
He positioned the blade
Held it steady
Pushed
Let it sink into his skin
He threw his head back
A small yelp of pain
No. This is what you wanted, remember
It will make everything okay again
The tip disappeared
The blood gushed
Steady
He dragged it
Slowly
Enjoying every second
destroying himself
bit by bit
Freedom
Almost halfway
Good. It’s deep
He dragged.
Index finger balanced on the side
His thumb grazing his skin
The blade disappeared
Given time
It would become him
right across.
his eyes shut.
The were no tears
He sat in silence
Feeling the blood swim
Instantly.
Dripping down his arm
Onto the floor
AGAIN
the taunt continued
There wasn’t anything left in him
You aren’t worth my time.
Use some of that fat energy, and finish the job
What will they think?
Nobody will miss you
Nobody cares
They’ll be glad to see you’re gone.
The blood didn’t stop
It wouldn’t
This would be the last time.
He picked up the blade.
Again.
It sunk into his flesh like butter
This is for the best
I just can’t
Push
Drag
This wasn’t about self control
This was the end.
Freedom.
A wimper
"Are you happy?"
"Are you?"
A constant battle
Dizziness.
He stood up.
Turned the taps on to hot.
Starred into his own eyes.
The ones he hated so much
The very reason he couldn’t go on
His legs gave out
It seemed like a dream
Crashing.
He hit the floor.
It was over.
Freedom.
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
Below is the first of two poems inspired by this piece of music, this one from a few years ago, in the midst of my divorce. The second, the better of the two, is:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/pachelbels-canon/
The music:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kllZlF6mB2s&feature;=youtube_gdata_player
~~~~
Bereft of words,
one more time,
concussed by the hammering of
cacophonous silences
disabling my thought processes
In vanity,
for when denied,
Le Poet-Poseur angrily asks:
Did not Mary
have her cherries
by command?^
But when the trees bow to me,
the collective of leaves mockingly
whisper sweet nadas, baby.
each leaf wraps my tongue,
in a sushi compote of sand,
"hush-a-bye, baby boy poet"
June chilled.
But not chilling
Today, on a overcast Saturday,
forces have mogged^^ me on,
transmogrified into a
Seventh Day Non-Inventist,
the creativity disrupters
Sadly,
Amazon doesn't sell,
original poems for redistribution
Pilings of papers,
variant demanders re my
labors past and future,
**** work-product of
teams of lawyers & harlots
Four years on, demanding now,
300 files subpoenaed,
need I say, they want me to re-tour my life my cuntry,
once more
Dummies!
these esquires ****** for hire,
my greatest invention,
my poetry,
they'll n'ere posses
cause I give it away,
domain denied
In need of a ****** shot,
drink repeatedly from the
Kanon by Pachelbel,
cannons of human-law
surmounted by the one divine
This note,
the work product of
Pachelbel & Lipstadt,
harmony restoration,
a shared refuge,
a shared refute
Welcome friend to
a place that cannot be
bought, seized, sold
Pleasure thyself with each
note, scale repeated
Though the reign of the heavens
doth suffer violence, and
violent men do take it by force,^^^
peace and pardon,
earnest reward of
poets who lived gently,
giving gentle, freely away
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 7:32 AM UTC
what is my home if home isn't home anymore
whats a house full of locked memories pushed
to the side in decaying cardboard boxes
gathering dust with my whispered scary stories of a place called home
whats a house without beating hearts?
a cemetery.
a house of the walking-drained
I find it incredibly ironic that the place I'm living in is killing me
suffocating me with echoing words and ghosts that linger despite the blinds being wide open
home was temporary and then mailed and lost
amongst letters to Santa and I'm sorry cards never read and bills and taxes divorce papers and trial hearings, court cases and prescriptions expired
home is written on my heart in scars and on my tongue leftover from the unuttered phrases and cries only to be heard by the moonlit room of my brick walls
home is a factory
routine assembly line of insults and prying questions and denials that are cast on the floor crunching beneath my feet
this house I am residing in is not a home
how could it be
when the mirrors are plastered up with this-is-what-you-must-do and unanswered questions only to be replied with excuses of uncertainty and disabling fear, swirling, fogging up my vision
home is where my heart burns and my legs ache.
there's no safe haven
not in this house.
not even behind dead bolts and lock and secrets of the mind
home isn't home
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 7:05 PM UTC
Crying in the shower
Is the most disabling of acts
Paralyzed
Under the constant stream of water
No visible tears
Only millions of rivulets of water
Finding their way down your body
Retreating from such torment
Letting the breath
You so desperately need
Escape unwillingly
From your parted lips
In uncontrollable sobs
Forehead pressed against the cold marble
Hands reaching for whatever they can find
For some stability
Sliding down stone walls
Glass doors
And metal knobs
Until you give in
Find your way to the bottom of the tub
So you don't have to stand
Cradled in porcelain
To make yourself feel small
Unable to call for anyone
No one to call for anyways
Crippled on the floor
As your body aches
And throbs
With every choke
Sharp inhale
Of mist
Eyes open
But they can't see
So you stay there
Too weak
And too cold
To find your way out
From under the
Faithful warmth and comfort
Of the steady stream
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 10:11 PM UTC
I wish I weren't so shy
Had the confidence to try
Set my paralysis aside
And just be satisfied I tried
But the fear is all consuming
That I may somehow be denied
My inner demons multiplying
Disabling my once sound mind
I'm socially inept
There's nowhere left to hide
Cozy, snuggled in my comfort zone
While I'm left swallowing my pride
I'm conflicted by a yearning
A feeling deep inside
To seek out a companion
The Bonnie to my Clyde
A forever tender lover
Our bodies intertwined
But I can't seem to get past the part
Where I look them in the eye
It's got little to do with my self image
I think I'm one hell of a good
guy
It's just so rare that I meet someone
That's in rhythm with my vibe
It may be the signal that I'm sending out
I've gone along for the free ride
I'm always caught up in some traffic jam
That's wasting all my time
Traveling down a winding road
Without a map to guide
Headed toward the future
And not the past I left behind
I'm constantly contemplating
Whether I'm the one that's to decide
Am I qualified to be tempting fate
By choosing my own bride
Did I miss my window
Should I peek out through the blinds
Will I be disappointed by my bride to be
Or be content with whom I find
Shall I put faith into the process
Leave my worries by the side
Find a place to settle down
Recite the words that bind
I know my reservations
To you may seem benign
But the clock is tick tick ticking
As the days go slipping by
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 4:24 AM UTC
I will never stop kissing you
for I'd rather be labeled
a *****
or ****
or *****
than a ******
by kissing you
I am disabling the ability
to let my secrets loose
and enabling the potential
to stay hidden
for a long time
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 9:33 PM UTC
a walk through personal history
the memories coming to mind
some and even many not perfection
in their remembrance and retelling
a great gulf can divide truth and fiction
the library walkers sifting reads
characters pop up one would erase
thus disabling the accusing crowd
gathered out the dust of past lives.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC
Psychiatrists said my son was mad
But I only saw a child,
He needed to be locked up, he was dangerous and bad
They declared, but I knew he was only wild.
Psychiatrists have for decades employed
ECT, that damages brains, destroys memory;
With omnipresent power employed
The soul-disabling effects of SS-influenced lobotomy.
They prescribed (prescribe) addictive drugs
To all and sundry, on a whim,
Giving them to children, like street-wise thugs
Covered in expensive bling.
I took my son away
Protecting him from a psychotropic shower,
Until he’s strong enough to have his say,
Not silenced by mis-used power.
He talks of love and wondrous things,
Of things he’s read and seen
All they can see is a boy who stupidly grins-
Like playground bullies, ignorant and mean.
They said my son was mad
Needs to be drugged, pinned down, abused
But surely the world is worryingly sad,
Allowing people to be so used?
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 2:06 PM UTC
[personal definition based upon a study case of one]
1. Self-commitment to silence one’s heart; often described as ‘experiencing life holding your breath’ or ‘seeing the world as if you were on a river bottom’; main symptomes: being able to interact but refusing proximity .
2. Condition found after one’s sudden awaken from a long period of self inflicted cataleptic narcosis, by a singular human touch, and subsequently being unexpectedly left in the wide; main symptomes: non-stop spinning and sprinting in all directions; aphasia and forgetfulness of words; general deeply cultivated indifference beneath high level of external activity in order to endure the understanding of everything as delusional; slow return into narcotic catalepsis, mainly through smothering the heart beat.
Notes
1. Predisposition for the syndrome: perception of a flaw disabling wholeness; intrinsic tendance to flee from others when reality does not match one’s pre-vision; obsessive phobia of halves of nothing.
2. Treatment: unknown; progress shown under some conditions did not linger.
3. Survival rate: not appliable.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC
The strangest stories have no sense of direction,
No respect of Truth,
No pinnacle insurrection.
Alas, the tensity causes the button to pop.
Eyes lowered,
As the other foot drops.
Once seemingly meaningless grains
Suddenly aggregate into disabling pains.
Perspectives contest to be absolute
But not one is;
They're unavoidably destitute.
Decisions are very seldom sound
Since every interpretation
Has flaws to be found.
Emotionalities arise,
Rationality divides
And
A choice invites a new inception;
One that defines a point of inflection.
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 12:36 PM UTC
I am hidden.
Hiding, lurking
Deep in the darkest corner,
the saddest, weakest crevice
of your mind.
Spreading -- sickening the rest.
You're fully aware that I'm there --
I don't hide from you.
I'm too busy torturing you,
day after day.
Shifting doubt and fear
onto the simplest sentence,
the kindest comment.
Poking, prodding,
supplying crippling explanations.
Disabling you,
turning any self-esteem you could have had
into a mess, a catastrophe,
a disaster of a girl.
No,
I couldn't hide from you.
I hide from anyone else.
You try to reach out for help,
but I pull you back.
You try to explain how I work,
but I steal the words
out of your mouth.
You can't explain,
and I make sure that you don't want to,
not really.
Because what would they think?
No one wants to know,
No one wants to have your diseased thoughts
dumped on them,
Hold it back,
Keep it in.
Keep me in.
Let me fester, infect,
every feeling.
I decay, rot.
Scarring.
Good luck getting rid of me.
Feb 18, 2011
Feb 18, 2011 at 7:29 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
Broken, shattered, tattered dreams,
Tears ran down my face as rapid as streams,
No way forward, can't see how,
Blinded by sadness, thats furrowed my brow,
But tides are turning, the sun starts to shine,
I start on my journey, one step at a time,
The smile returning, the heart beats once more,
As this one closes, I'm opening a new door,
My confidence returning, I'm a beauty you see,
He might of done damage, but he never broke me,
Anxiety so disabling, was blinding my view,
But now I'm not worried, I'm better then you,
With head held high, and a tilt of my chin,
I'm embracing my future, with the love from within,
I'm strong, independant, with nothing to fear,
I'm so much better, now you are not here,
Take a good look, sit back take a rest,
Then realise that you lost the best,
I'm reclaiming my life, my harvest I reap,
Look at me now, just sit there and weep,
My journey continues through the rest of my life,
But I'll be ok, I'm no longer your wife!!!!!!!!
Oct 7, 2010
Oct 7, 2010 at 6:29 AM UTC