"disaffection" poems
Plagiarism of worthless ideals,
that you so ignorantly hold high.
Shaking in amazement,
how can you call your self alive?
Totalitarian, lethargic lifestyle.
Ignominious displays of disaffection.
Constant contradictions;
out of your mind.
Caught up in the clouds,
cognition of mania and level debauched.
Up to high to realize, you're an “open mind” with locked doors.
Maslow, Skinner, and Darwin alike, turn in their graves,
over your lack of evolution.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC
I am BPD.
I am the demon that possesses your mind,
I am the ghost of all you want to leave behind.
I am the monster that will make you unstable,
The voice in your head making you suicidal.
I am your heart making your emotions intense,
I am your mind, muddled and making no sense.
I am your brain making you neurotic,
With the perfect balance of a handful of psychotic.
I am your self-esteem making you feel worthless,
I will make sure you feel that you have no purpose.
I am your impulsiveness making you act reckless;
Your need to harm yourself is becoming endless.
I am your soul feeling neglected,
You feel it very deeply because you need to be protected.
I am your extreme paranoia,
Making you live in a shell, I’m a merciless destroyer.
I am your fear of rejection, you will outburst at the slightest disaffection.
So, I am BPD and I will ruin your life,
I will cover you in scars made by the blade of a knife.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 4:03 PM UTC
.
I am
Moontouched
a slight disaffection
from the real.
Yet,
in my lunar sea
a calm circulating
orbit wheels.
I am
Moontouched
an angle from
the hearts core.
Yet,
in my love fall
a slow spiral
loops playful.
© Pagan Paul (07/07/16)
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 11:34 AM UTC
Zeus, your predilection for banishing Titans to Hades...
anathema of them--revolt was theirs of you...Titanomachy.
Enter Prometheus, second generational Titan, brother
to Atlas--Prometheus of whom Titan revolt at first ran
no fire through his veins.
Thus, Zeus was well pleased and employed Prometheus
to put earth to water, water to earth...as to yield man.
As so man was, and was unto Prometheus...a fondness
entered him of them.
And in of passion Prometheus' veins were run through
with fire...fire fought fire--thus Prometheus reached out
taking hold Zeus' lightning.
Hid in a hollowed fennel stalk, to be bequeathed unto man.
Torrents of fire now ran Prometheus' veins, and in a fit of
infamous mockery presented Zeus with two packets of
slaughtered animal parts.
A hubris was born in Prometheus that being so halved
God-man gave itself fully to that polarity...he gawked at
Zeus and bade him choose between the two packets.
One of ox meat and innards coated in stomach lining, the
other of ox-bones coated in its own abundant fat.
Thus Zeus chose, the wretched lesser of the two...
inconsumable ox-bones coated by fat.
A charged and terrible air cut and heavied all direction,
pointing assuredly that Zeus was one given over to the
surface of things, a psychological casualty of his own
vanity.
Zeus overcome with Prometheus' disaffection for the God
of him struck at Prometheus' family.
At length, this assault could not, would not put asunder
Prometheus from the ground he stood.
A certain Haphaestus was summoned by Zeus...whose
directive was writ in torment.
Chain Prometheus to Mount Caucasus...where from on
high a sackcloth cloud shall shake loose an eagle, whose
homing hunger shall have only a taste for Prometheus' liver.
Day in, and day out, that accursed ***** shall be the
bounty of itself!
Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 6:06 PM UTC
We shall keep the poor poor.
We shall be on them like
a master's whip on the backs
of slaves; but they will not
know us: we are too far and
too near. We shall use the
patois of patriotism to patronize
them. We shall hide behind our
flags, while we hold only one pole.
We shall have the poor fight our
wars for us, and die for us; and
before they die, they will **** for
us, we hope, enough. In peace,
we shall piecemeal them, and serve
them meals made of toxins and tallow.
For their labor, we shall pay them
slave wages; and all that we give,
we shall take back, and more, by
monumental scandals that subside
like day's sun at eventide. We shall
be clever, as ever, circumspect and
surreptitious at all times. We shall
keep them deluded with the verisimilitude
of hope, but undermine always its
being. We shall infuse their lives
with fear and hate, playing one
race against another, one religion
against a brother's. Disaffection is
our key; but we must modulate our
efforts deftly, so the poor remain
frightened and angered, but always
blind and deaf and divided. And if,
perchance, one foments, we shall
seize the moment and drop his head
into his hands, even as he speaks.
This internecine brew we pour, there-
fore, into the poor to keep them drunk
enmity and incapacitation. Ah,
eternal anticipation! Bottoms up,
old chaps! We, those who rule,
shall have them always in our laps.
We are, as it were, their salvation.
Tod Howard Hawks
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 7:28 PM UTC
The pale ghost of dawn
A grove of trees
Faded derelicts
Without leaves
A tracery of branches
Bent and twisted
Shades of grey
On a cold, grim day.
Disaffection
Evil minds online
Contempt fro coquetry
Worshippers of perversity
A prelude to profanity
Barely covering
Membranes of morality
On the dark side of the mind.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
One night my love and I were out observing the constellations
When from nowhere we hear to our consternation
Incessant notes of outrageous declaration.
My love and I upon closer clandestine inspection
Observe a drunken troubadour torturing such inflection
As to sour the deafest of men upon hearing such disconnection.
As we run hand in hand unaware of our direction,
Pelting objects sound crushing the object of our disaffection.
Oct 23, 2010
Oct 23, 2010 at 4:31 PM UTC
THOSE WHO RULE
We shall keep the poor poor.
We shall be on them like
a master’s whip on the backs
of slaves; but they will not
know us: we are too far and
too near. We shall use the
patois of patriotism to patronize
them. We shall hide behind our
flags while we hold only one pole.
We shall have the poor fight our
wars for us, and die for us; and
before they die, they will **** for
us, we hope, enough. In peace,
we shall piecemeal them and serve
them meals made of toxins and tallow.
For their labor, we shall pay them
slave wages; and all that we give,
we shall take back, and more, by
monumental scandals that subside
like day’s sun at eventide. We shall
be clever, as ever, circumspect and
surreptitious at all times. We shall
keep them deluded with the verisimilitude
of hope, but undermine always its
being. We shall infuse their lives
with fear and hate, playing one
race against another, one religion
against a brother’s. Disaffection is
our key; but we must modulate our
efforts deftly, so the poor remain
frightened and angered, and always
blind and deaf and divided. And if,
perchance, one foments, we shall
seize the moment and drop his head
into his hands, even as he speaks.
This internecine brew we pour, there-
fore, into the poor to keep them drunk
with enmity and incapacitation. Ah,
eternal anticipation! Bottoms up,
old chaps! We, those who rule,
shall have them always in our laps.
We are, as it were, their salvation.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Jan 6, 2023
Jan 6, 2023 at 1:00 PM UTC
We shall keep the poor poor.
We shall be on them like
a master’s whip on the backs
of slaves; but they will not
know us: we are too far and
too near. We shall use the
patois of patriotism to patronize
them. We shall hide behind our
flags while we hold only one pole.
We shall have the poor fight our
wars for us, and die for us; and
before they die, they will **** for
us, we hope, enough. In peace,
we shall piecemeal them and serve
them meals made of toxins and tallow.
For their labor, we shall pay them
slave wages; and all that we give,
we shall take back, and more, by
monumental scandals that subside
like day’s sun at eventide. We shall
be clever, as ever, circumspect and
surreptitious at all times. We shall
keep them deluded with the verisimilitude
of hope, but undermine always its
being. We shall infuse their lives
with fear and hate, playing one
race against another, one religion
against a brother’s. Disaffection is
our key; but we must modulate our
efforts deftly, so the poor remain
frightened and angered, and always
blind and deaf and divided. And if,
perchance, one foments, we shall
seize the moment and drop his head
into his hands, even as he speaks.
This internecine brew we pour, there-
fore, into the poor to keep them drunk
with enmity and incapacitation. Ah,
eternal anticipation! Bottoms up,
old chaps! We, those who rule,
shall have them always in our laps.
We are, as it were, their salvation.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Dec 30, 2022
Dec 30, 2022 at 4:56 PM UTC
fidelity, understanding
empathy, caring unconditionally
failing descriptors of life's most sought feeling
reason, felt as purpose for existence—love
time spent seeking, sadness at depriving
either youthful bliss or aged wisdom
emotion's hold unconstrained by seniority
consuming our hopes and dreams
those which drive drawn breath
found true amongst family
in peer only seldom
never a nation, only the few
love guiding all, the
key to a perfect civilization
to create a people of programmed emotion
woven strands
DNA's complex beauty
reduced to binary code's rigidity
heartstring circuit wiring
free will replaced by java script exception
not soul but operating system's disaffection
mechanical allegiance
an imperfect love found in robotic adherence
fealty unfettered
good intention forced subjection
creation resultant a society hollow in perfection
an empty hull of truth
love lacking substance, fictitious in merit
absent the tribulation
the moon by which the sun's effect strengthened
loyalty absolute the greater plan
stalwart and without grievance
love free of expectation
a golden emotion impossible to automate
true love organic by nature
fluid in its implementation
dynamic and unpredictable
to understand the value of light
a man must lose himself in the night
a hard road to learn the better way
by the world's cold we might
know a Kingly castle's warmth
the answer to evil's allowance
free will to choose our citizenship
a nation whose flag represents
the most excellent way
meaningless without choice
left led by our own feeble perception
too oft to misunderstand His intention
a perfect love made perfect by imperfection
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC
Destiny for humanoids---
Shall we run by androids?
Or shall we be the androids?
Let's prognosticate,
Predict our fates----
Shall mankind claim the Universe?
Or is Anarchy to be the serve?
Teeming billions in a rat race,
What is destiny for our Earth place?
In our lifetime, we'll never know,
Unless Armageddon explodes,
Let's hope the young are star hopping,
Instead of retail therapy shopping,
Too young for the stars,
Too old for the seas afar,
Nothing left to explore,
Disaffection, please no more,
Shall we be the androids?
Destiny for the humanoids?????????
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 10:27 PM UTC
The intensely loved and cherished child,
Can suffer late.
Waiting innocently through,
The too few summers
Spent in total love.
Above him still, the parents’ strength
Prescribes the length
His loving years shall run,
Before time’s taint reveals his ancient face
Beneath the slowly peeling paint
Of pictures placed
To keep the knowing day at bay,
And stay completion of the plan
To mould the clay, in such a way
He grows a sold, and silent man.
Unless time slays his shining sun.
To extinguish all sensation
In one swift and savage stroke,
Before a doubt is spoken,
Or, disaffection’s woken
From his learning touch.
He perhaps, expects too much.
Such is the faith of infants
Safe within their fragile skin,
So thinly wrought in thoughtful art,
That the heart’s wild wishes can depart,
But disenchantment can’t see in.
© James Rainsford 2010
Nov 10, 2010
Nov 10, 2010 at 7:24 AM UTC
She traveled for days, in a maze with no direction destined for an escape from depression driven by disaffection
By fate she felt a connection
They ran until he was cuffed into oppression
Later she had a baby on the way
Going through her mind she's beginning to think that she made a mistake
Her heart aches, my poor lady
Don't be ashamed my poor lady
There were many attempts repeated
Her child is now three and
In a need of an education to intrigue him
It is in her mind to try again
No mas tristeza Mi Amor
Said mother when we walked out the door
My soul grew old and I walked with strength
So by the time I was ten I knew how to think
This was me, I made my personality
The world was a wonder, and I wandered with many
Some men and women, names weren't our thing
The blood on the feet were all the same
At the end, countless tragedy
Don't worry my poor lady
Once we're there it might be better, just maybe
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
Acidic,sour,pleasing both delightful and delish
draws me close,comforts me yet sends signals that brew deep from inside of me
why do you i feel you have disaffection towards my very being ?
why must you make me feel safe,muting all my fears and easing my inhibitions?
please tell me....
............how long will you leave me in the dark ?
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
His bright, white haze had always held him trapped,
Kept him blinded in hallowed embraces,
Scarcely breathing, trying stiff to adapt,
Teasing him with glimpses of tabooed places.
He lusted for freedom from perfection,
To fly vaguely in dangerous waters,
Incessantly gaining disaffection,
For the lastest fictions he had uttered.
Another offered a chance at freedom,
Skeptical of the darkness surrounding,
Clouded mind knowing that accepting him,
Results in a contract always binding.
Exhausted of sacred blessings he turned,
From angel’s love and in Tartarus burned.
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 10:24 AM UTC
If Jesus is the question,
What is the question?
Is it, let's say,
Youth disaffection?
Kids need to be taught to say,
"Back off' to drugs and bullies these days,
Jesus as a forever friend,
To wisdom their lives to wend,
How can we reach more of them?
In this modern, digital age,
Introductions need to be made,
If an issue, is, indeed,
Youth disaffection,
Is Jesus the answer to this question?
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 7:05 PM UTC
live life with enthusiasm destined hardiness due to the harshness
Lacking the right guidance with so many choices we all interpretive heartfelt condolences to the families who have been a incurious
"Should be" as in past tense goes without saying some individuals are not capable to accelerate but we all have those interject with situations enough is enough just make it deploy indiscretion instead of misperception
Questions will not always have a answer to your concerns faith is the only thing we can believe in
You settle for the well-written incentive purpose
This is only the blueprint to or construction build to your desire
Cherish,be grateful, prefer a Just way disaffection those unavoidable dreams.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 9:27 PM UTC
Someone burns their vision of the world
In Western leaves some factory somewhere curled
And leaves the stump to burn upon the green
Where ducks and frogs make their domain,
And drops the package, too, still cellophaned,
Venom for the worms, a note to the society who brained
You - I see your disaffection's ribbon in the grass
And know I feel it, too, and yet, alas,
By all the powers that be, I know,
That I must be the change I want to show.
Apr 16, 2023
Apr 16, 2023 at 2:23 PM UTC
What shall we do today?
Now the nest is empty
Not as much washing to do
When the kids lived at home there was plenty
Shall we go out for a meal?
A two-for-one meal deal will do
Instead of the usual bargain bucket
Which would feed a slew
Chicken wings and coleslaw and fries
And a large tub of chocolate ice-cream
Drew would eat more than his fair share
His love of fast food was extreme
When we get home from the restaurant
I'll look in the boys bedroom door
And i'll think how bare the carpet looks
With no discarded clothes on the floor
I'll lie in the bed and think
That the house is far too quiet
And think of when the kids were here
Music blaring and running riot
I feel a sense of loss
And feelings of rejection
I'm laid here with my loving spouse
But I feel a disaffection
I think that what we had is gone
I'm starting to wonder whether
Our children living at home
Were the glue that kept us together
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 2:47 PM UTC
It is with trepidation he treads the raised ridges of puckered pink on your skin.
He holds you like an artist cradling a vase
His eyes captivated by you, yet touching you only delicately, the moment shadowed by the fear
That your fragile self might shatter.
He knows that glint of hate in your eyes when you look at a mirror;
When you touch, skin on skin, caresses and fumblings and kisses and hitched breaths,
It is always dark.
You don’t have to see the scars;
and neither does he.
The shadows hide the faults, the flaws, the fears.
* * *
The day I saw your mother hug you, and step back to look at you with pride, her arms clutching yours, only to recoil when she felt the healing skin, and remove her hands indelicately, I knew –
I would never love you gently.
Everyone else walked on eggshells around you. Everyone else expected you to crumble at the slightest breeze of disaffection. Everyone else told you in their actions that you were fragile.
I wanted to tell you you were strong.
When we argued I didn’t lower my voice in case it sounded like your demons, when my hand traced the angry red lines that decorated your arms I did not kiss them better or withdraw my touch, when our lips would brush i was never delicate, never timid -
you have had enough of timid.
I knew the glint of hate in your eyes when you looked in the mirror, so when we lay skin on skin I made sure there was light and you could see the scars just as i could, and you could see the warmth in my eyes as they drank them in, and you could learn to look at them the same way.
We had love without shadows.
And I loved you -
lights on.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC
Emptinesses
framed by inequalities
that sew the disaffection,
throw the disenfranchised into
blues sharp relief,
stark contrasts of
black and white
rich and poor
needful and needless cries
There should be no politicking
or filibustered unkempt bluster
in the emptiness of children’s stomachs,
nor grave injury from
the ignorant knuckles of authority
Hunger of all kinds
in guts and minds
brings pain
and a shame to even voice,
for there shouldn’t be cause
to have to
Hunger has a way of spreading
to hearts and minds
and when hurting enough
will drive change
But not alone
The comfortable,
careful, silent,
the full,
must give time,
use voice,
use currency,
and fight
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 6:24 AM UTC
Long are you waiting
the night stars to settle
as in the youth you see
always them glowing.
Staring the sky in quiet
expecting still but less
while nobody removes
the wrinkle on forhead.
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 2:02 PM UTC