"discontinue" poems
Warning: Use dis list in context.
You decide on which side you fall.
disappear
disregard
disaster
displace
disqualify
disrepair
disturb
dissipate
disability
dispose
dismal
distribute
distrust
disturb
discriminate
discuss
disdain
disguise
dishearten
disinherit
disown
disparage
disagree
disgruntle
disclose
discolour
dispute
disarm
discover
disassemble
disadvantage
disallow
dispossess
discontent
discontinue
disrespect
disincline
discomfort
disrepute
dishonest
disillusion
dishonor
dismiss
disobey
disjoin
disappoint
discipline
discord
discern
discrete
disfigure
disconnect
disapprove
discharge
disbar
disease
discord
disfavor
disengage
disassociate
discipline
discount
disembody
displace
dissaray
disembowel
discombobulate
discredit
discourse
disentangle
disenfranchise
disembark
discard
disburse
disbelief
discover
disable
disagree
disintegrate
dismay
dispense
dislodge
disclaimer
disapprove
dissatisfy
disrupt
dispel
dislike
dismantle
disloyal
disbatch
disrobe
disperse
display
disaprove
disciple
disavow
disconcert
disinfect
disorder
dismal
dismember
displease
dissemble
disunity
dislocate
distort
distrust
distress
dissolute
disassociate
distill
discect (?)
distemper
distain
distasteful
distraught
dissolve
dissonant
dissuade
And dis isn't de end.
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 12:06 PM UTC
Title #1: Dear Hi-Chews (Morinaga & Co.),
Laughy-Taffy’s Fun
Always incorporate a pun
Yours need a haiku
Title #2: Hi-Chew 2.0
Our sells would just sore
But the brandings a bore, solved:
Include a haiku
Title #3: Mango Flavor
Hi-chews are yummy
But the mango is nasty
Discontinue Please
Title #4: Sales
Hi-chew sells are down
When Laughy-taffy’s around
Add a fun Haiku
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 1:30 AM UTC
I hear a calling
But I prefer falling
So I practice avoidance
It's a void dance
To an annoyed trance
To avoid a glance
Or taking a chance
People take pieces they don't plan on returning
The only replacement is the sensation of burning
In this hell
With no one to tell
Because I locked my heart
Which felt like a good start
Until loneliness pervaded my soul
And I can't climb out of this hole
I create isolation
When there's no inspiration
I discontinue integration
And go on permanent vacation
I watch movies
To feel groovy
I write
Out of sight
I play video games
To avoid shame
I decide to act lame
So no one asks my name
I begin to feel sour
In my lonely tower
I used to think independence was power
Until I found myself in my darkest hour
With only friends to help
The same friends I put on a shelf
That are now mythical like an elf
Is life just giving all my pieces away?
Disconnection leaves my life grey
But if I decide to stay
My love they will slay
They will toy with my emotions
Until I feel their encroachment
But I'd rather have a toy's chance
Than live my life in a void dance
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 11:28 AM UTC
I take flight
With all my might
To be your kite
Following you wherever you go
To be part of your ebb and flow
People think I ingested the wrong pill
Because up here I can't see the roadkill
And float over the pitch black oil spills
From the end of your string
I become king
There is an approaching storm
As you deviate from the norm
And discontinue acting warm
Your lightning strikes
My metal pike
Electricity tears through my thin fabric
As I dream of a tranquil casket
And you want to grant me my death wish
I guess that's why they call me Icarish
For flying to close to the rain
Only to constantly feel pain
To distract me from the shame
From those with unknown names
But familiar bigoted flames
To me you both are the same
Once I go against the grain
You tell me to stay in my lane
High above the gravelly ground
Where you can't hear my sounds
Of impaling wailing
Because you're bailing
Letting go of the string
You become king
I am a kite floating
Spending night noting
All my many mistakes
That caused these breaks
But despite trying my very best
The wind provides a difficult test
After I am battered into tatters
My hopes couldn't be flatter
So I start to feel it doesn't matter
When my dreams came true then shattered
The wind solemnly sings
Of distant powerful kings
But I cannot fly anymore
In my broken kite form
Nov 25, 2017
Nov 25, 2017 at 3:17 AM UTC
Okay, you want to live again
Same question as before:
What for?
I know you’re asking me
Of course I’m asking you -
You see I’m also asking me
Because I’ve answered this before
You’ve also given reason why you shouldn’t
Well, I wasn’t asking you
I’m asking me
And I’ve done a lot of things
I always thought I wouldn’t
But now getting back to me
Of course
It’s always about me
It is
I know
Sometimes I just get bored exploring
“What is wrong with me,” or
“What might make me want to live”
I think there must be some reason
I think there must be some reason
Even you?
Of course you would, but still I wonder
Yes, I wonder
So what for?
Much the problem with connection
If only tethered by affection
Or some pleasurable action -
If there is no obligation
Without pleasure or affection
Should I not just altogether
Discontinue interaction?
I have wondered
I have wondered
There’s continued interaction
And still
Much of it is pleasant
But this isn’t necessarily
Sufficient reason for existence
So you, ask
As if you would rightly know
To be, with reason
It might be said then
Is something beyond you
And beyond me
I think so too
But still
Some reason ought to do-
Regardless if it’s me or you
To think of it
I have to choose
So anything?
Not anything
Then anything that comes to mind?
There must be joy
That we can find in what we do
If I can say what ought to motivate us
You
Or me
Or I
Or somehow us together
Living to enjoy the being
Doing not to cement or gain
Or fight so often
Being for the light and wind
That make clouds, trees, and grass dynamic
For the wind again
For the flight it makes possible
Yes
Even birds could not be what we hope to see
Without unseen
Often unappreciated
Natural forces that peak our interest
Only because of some spectacle
And there is much spectacle
Apr 29, 2023
Apr 29, 2023 at 9:25 AM UTC
Toughness is my warm gooey love
Isolation is the only defense I've developed
I keep reminding myself this is it
My passion never existed
An urge deep frying my mind
My fingers tingling
My heart throbs
My throat suffocating
The words telling me to discontinue have melted into sweet nothings
I'm a *** drive with no destination
A complicated disastrous women
My feet turned to charcoal long ago
I haven't blink in a lifetime
My burnt sunglasses situated against my broken nose
My high waisted skirt accentuates my fate
Perfect, is a pretty ******* explicit world to create
Please no holding the insane
Back away slowly
She's always hoping to bite
Taking chunks of your pride
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 1:49 PM UTC
54% of people in Iceland believe in elves.
When I was in Iceland, my phone broke.
Nobody knows how.
I guess you could say that number is now closer to 55%.
I haven't had a phone now for about a month now.
It's not as though I used it much to begin with,
but it has posed as an inconvenience,
such as not knowing the time.
I had to go out and buy a watch.
Watches always remind me of you.
You would tell me,
"Men judge other men by their watches and shoes."
I always thought this was dumb.
Then I started taking notice of people's watches and shoes.
I always liked your watches best.
My favorite one showed all of the cogs and gears.
It was much more intricate than the one I bought.
Then again, you've always had an eye for details,
Whereas I tend to trip up over the small things.
Now, whenever I check the time,
I think of you.
I may discontinue wearing this watch.
After all, time has always slipped through my fingers,
Among other things.
There's no use fighting the inevitable.
Instead, I'll simply learn to map the sky.
Invest in a sundial.
Read the moon.
Track the North star.
Watches are only good for those waiting for something to happen.
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 3:12 AM UTC
this is how i die an array of colours flashed
hippy's tie die shirt glamourized before me
a 60s hendrix tripping vibe
too much deception, not enough communication
silence was the biggest killer...
after all most deaths are silent
and the dead don't speak
but who says they're not listening
a record collection of conversations stored in heathe ledger's memory files , the frontal lobe archives
just like the front side of the incoming car
just like the front side of the quickly approaching cliff ledge
just like the frontal assault i planted on myself,
but my pain is temporary...it is everyone else i know who must bear it for a lifetime if they discontinue this domino effect
(i'm not talking about domino's pizza)...pizza hut OBVIOUSLY
I ordered the extra large cheese with a side of jalapeno's because this one if going to burn with a cheesy ending
how could you miss it.... i wrote it in my death note.
Oct 23, 2020
Oct 23, 2020 at 9:22 PM UTC
So sweet, innocent, divine
A gorgeous face and a beautiful mind
Like her, your words steal my attention
Intriguing my mind to seek your affection
And like she did, you notice my charm
Quite unusual, yet satisfyingly warm
No surprise that our conversations run deep
And even late at night we don't always sleep
Do I see the parallels, plaguing my vision
To mirror you closely to my last proposition?
Are the warning signs blazing?
The sirens screaming?
They don't warn to discontinue
Simply to ensure great caution too
Different, very much, you seem
Yet there she sits, haunting my dreams
And the similarities are enough to compare
(But I wonder if they're ficticious or truly there)
I know that I'm crazy,
no doubt my mind's reeling
But I'm also so broken
That I'm afraid to start feeling.
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 7:25 PM UTC
i was asking you before
to discontinue your supply of poetic awakening
the ink that you're always giving me
has expired and dried two years ago
and i can never write about now.
i can never write about "what ifs",
i can never poetically execute my dreams
because i am contaminated by
our "what could have beens."
babe, your expired ink tastes bitter & toxic
but i just cant seem to stop you.
i don't ever want to stop you
i dont want to step forward.
here i am again, haunted by your memories
leading me back to the past that i have learned to seek shelter in.
you were to glue that pieces my bones together
whenever these four walls are declaring that i'm falling apart.
you are an endless pool of ink
and an endless pad of paper,
you want me to continue writing
because you said my face was too pretty to explode.
how could i step away from that?
i wish that my muscles would be strong enough to lift me away from here.
i wish i could say that this isn't about you.
i am never gonna move on from you
because the day that i do,
the day i will stop being a poet.
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 10:04 PM UTC
September 3, 2013:
I really need to stop drinking because I always say and do things that I don’t really mean. I don’t really mean to do the things that I do, do I? Sometimes I don’t even know who I am.
September 5, 2013:
I saw a man today, he was wearing a grey suit with a red tie. He gave me pills, he said that they would help. I don’t know what they’re supposed to help with but I guess I’ll give them a try.
September 10, 2013:
These pills give me headaches. I don’t like them. They make thoughts really fuzzy. I’m going to see the man in the grey suit tomorrow. He said he wanted to check in with me. I hope he can fix this.
September 11, 2013:
The man in the grey suit told me the headaches are normal and that they should subside in a few days. I hope he’s right.
September 20, 2013:
I think the pills are working. I haven’t had a headache in a week, I don’t even feel fuzzy anymore. I think taking these were the right thing to do.
October 1, 2013:
I saw the man in the grey suit today, only today he was wearing a blue suit. A blue suit with a white tie. I finally asked him what his name was. He said that his name is Steven. He said that he wants to discontinue the pills. He thinks that they’re not right for me.
Steven is a nice name.
October 6, 2013:
I woke up covered in a sticky, red liquid. I don’t know where it came from. I don’t remember anything that happened last night. I think I need to visit Steven.
October 6, 2013:
Steven didn’t answer. I’ll try again tomorrow. I should clean up.
October 9, 2013:
I finally was able to talk to Steven. He asked me if I was drinking again. I haven’t had a drink in weeks. Now that I think about it... I never told him about that problem...
October 13, 2013:
I woke up with covered in a sticky, red liquid. There was a girl sitting at my kitchen table wearing a white dress and a trail of sticky, red liquid that lead from the girl to my front door. What a pretty girl. How did she get into my house?
October 21, 2013:
I haven’t been able to ahold of Steven for two weeks. I keep having dreams about the girl sitting at my kitchen table. She won’t stop screaming at me. She’s such a pretty girl.
October 25, 2013:
I need to stop drinking because I always say and do things that I don’t really mean.
October 30, 2013:
I woke up in a room today. A room with white walls and a white bed. I’m in clothes I’ve never seen before. I spoke to a man in a grey suit with a red tie. His name wasn’t Steven. He won’t tell me why I’m here. He told me that I should stop writing for a while.
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 7:14 PM UTC
if i started to count
the bricks, worldwide,
it would equal the amount
of times you have
hurt me, belittled me.
but someday that
number will discontinue,
and so will our relationship.
Nov 28, 2010
Nov 28, 2010 at 5:12 PM UTC
If there should ever come a day
when the heavens should file for bankruptcy
and the stars pack up and walk away,
know you no longer have reason to stay
and watch the waves abandon the sea.
If there should ever come a day
when gravity breaks down, losing it's way,
and molecular bonds begin to disagree,
let the stars pack up and walk away.
If mathematics come undone and run astray,
break the last abacus and then decree:
"If there should come a day and that day is today!"
If and when it comes leave Earth in disarray,
disassemble each and every tree,
tell the stars, "Pack up and walk away."
Call up all the physicists and say,
"Discontinue paying your A.P.S. fee"
if there should ever come a day
when the stars pack up and walk away.
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 1:53 PM UTC
I taste blood as it fills up my mouth
biting down chewing the thoughts of you.
The crashing hope settles in a drought.
Rust will not discontinue
their metallic lick along my teeth,
leaving blankets of acidic cavities.
Every time your name appears beneath
the frenzy that I tried so hard to ignore, I write my eulogy.
You killed me by leaving me.
The installation of expectations
that perhaps you could return, fully
set me up for devastation.
Corrosion slinks in the pores of my sore tongue
demons replacing your face stung.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 2:49 PM UTC
Mr Monsanto has a monopoly on the GMO market
his products fill many agriculturist's baskets
there harmful affects have been well documented
the damage they're causing can be circumvented
those men and women who work the land
can deal Mr Monsanto a crook poker hand
discontinue buying his bad chemical sprays
recommence those old pest controlling ways
he's been making big profits from the stuff that he sells
it is time for the agriculturists to hear the alarm bells
he's had the ear of the administration for too long
and it has always listened to the pitch of his song
Mr Monsanto keeps telling the world that his products are fab
but he never mentions a thing about adverse discoveries in science labs
the people are becoming informed on the land
they're waking up to the unsafeness of his brand
the public will not abide Mr Monsanto's crap
they know when a dodgy product has landed in their laps
cancer causing agents in cornmeal
this sort of thing doesn't make for edible appeal
big companies like Mr Monsanto might like to explain themselves
and enlighten us as to why his purulent stuff is on market shelves
behind his fortress walls he hides a folio of dross
uncovering it would ensure his company ran at a loss
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 10:06 AM UTC
I tell the stillness
of an inner hand
to listen for the
celebration of clapping.
I tell a hand
that holds and spills
temple thoughts
to drink from a
pen of communion.
I tell an incomplete
fist to discontinue
angry tightening
and grasp the best
possible opposite.
I tell a bending
orchestra of knuckles
to discern the source,
and the difference
between imprisonment
and blessed solitude.
I tell a waving
wrist to genuflect
for the safe passage
of afternoon thunderstorms.
I tell a pointy index
to return the wild indication
to a form that is
acquainted and most
familiar.
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
I taste rapture in your lips & feel nirvana flood our spines.
A stack of bone lit fire & this day ends, today I should try,
to see into the future,
something waits for you inside, reach in & find your comfort.
Drink heavy & dance, a warm nose carving mistakes into your once supple face.
Leave it alone & cry. Leave it alone for my sake.
Call me from the basement's line.
Save the words
& a change of tone.
a change of pace.
_Oh, dear gods,
we came so close & stand so far,
from that glorious fountain,
from that glorious superstructure of
love & tainted fate.
Stay close & I'll recite gorgeous tales of defeat.
I will
paint your face with the shame of those forgotten,
not in a lonely way
& this is not
the only way to stop these rhymes
of
once again
hearts torn,
one heart torn, turning forever
sleeping on the floor,
wishing your blood flowed through me.
open veins to shreds.
grab me, taste me.
bound by chains.
once undone,
these thoughts shouldn't be should so heavy,
moving my fingers in time with you.
whisper, oh I'm crazy.
But in this world,
in this
dear,
sweet
perfect world,
where you & I
sit
& sing
& commit your face to memory.
Holding on to you.
in you, my flame burns bright,
this pace grows dark as the wet woods cry in rhythm,
thinking of me,
old,
their hearts still racing for me.
their souls transport all loss &
their souls transports heat.
If only I was your source.
If I was your only source,
of light
of shadow & pain
of a perfect metronomic
never ending sometimes;
you'd pass happy.
you'd know defeat,
victory & all forms in between.
& looking back I sense there are words sealed tight,
dates forgotten & stories sans ink.
sometimes,
oh my sweet beautiful muse.
There is a shadow & there is a child
& there is a window
& there is a lord to call upon
when nightmares grab tight
& bullets fly close to this heart
desperation glides across these strings
& a voice is born,
snuffed,
buried
& forgotten in all but me.
killing the self,
waiting for the bars to bend
& waiting for the structure to dissolve.
A ghetto grown & producing
infinite
words &
mistakes.
Clear up my past,
discontinue
& continue to
work on these studies,
take all in stride,
a slow,
pain filled walk.
As mentioned, we came so far,
so close
& retired our passions.
So we ask
how do we die?
& when will we know?
& this change of tone brings
a change of pace.
I feel alive,
I behold what's in it,
what's grabbing
& shaking my soul,
which is,
listening to this power.
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 10:29 AM UTC
His eyes,a colder mint blue than you could imagine.
Her hair a darker colour than her soul.
When they collide,
sparks fly,
and they discontinue existence.
She shines when he stares,
He floats the way she falls.
They are so backwards but they're going in the right direction.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 1:42 PM UTC
Two Ones two O's
two infinity symbols/
beyond that
never is forever
a perpetual discontinue/
a critical crescendo
Can it be that it was
all so simple/
A difficult indefinite
A decadent individual/
More to lessen
when the lessons
Goes spherical/
What comes must go
Disregard the scenario/
In spite of facing the
Ever so unbearable/
Imperial
Regardless/
I un expected the unexpected/
I was endowed with/
this meticulous weapon/
the correspondent/
It came in a different direction
Not Money
Diamonds, jewelry and necklaces/
As you would expect it/
Rather verbs, nouns,
adverbs and ad-ject-ives/
My ob-jectives are selective
For I now know what my quest is/
I'm just the messenger
Please don't **** the message/
To your respective
Much time invested/
If I just reach one
That's a considered successes.
Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 12:47 PM UTC
Any relation is translation for complication
of the heart
You looked around and then you found
a place that is in the dark
You did not care of the burden to bear
from sharing a hollow one
But a heart is a heart and right from the start
it felt like what's done is done
And so I say time is taking me away
and I am growing older
So why not come with me today
and stay until it's over
I'll never get tired of your big maroon shoes
if you won't get tired of my wild curly hair
I am in love with everything that you do
and I always smell your scent everywhere
I just hope I did everything right
At least I know I did today
cause you're holding me tight
And I won't ruin the day
so I'll discontinue to write
So we can enjoy on my driveway
the ever so lovely night
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 12:29 AM UTC
Infect your mind with inspected signs that discontinue what you were born with, forlorn this meme, obscene yet lacking in the tracking mechanisms displaced to outer space, there it is, gee **** what'd I do now, have a cow, scientific inquiry as to *** was jfk, the cia? Information overload, a payload exploding in the brain leaves a stain that ingrains its image in your cortext (sic) contextual images supplied by visionary sources, get off your horses and dance in a trance can't stand ya burn forgotten ways of text on wood pulp gulped in by a mind left behind and signed for, designed for psychiatric cages as it rages for pages on the inequity of it all, fall, fall, morning star shines bright but it's all right, ignore that ****** and go straight for the sun, you're done, almost there, take care, truth or dare, can it be? See, and open your Mine(d) find it within outside the walls that define
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 4:52 PM UTC
There are a few of us out here
Browsing through deep canopies
Where the stars linger on our breath -
Like dew on a log.
There are a few of us out here
Blazing trails that discontinue in the fog
Where love is made, and blankets unfurled
Like knee patches, worn
By the miles
And miles
And miles.
Sep 26, 2011
Sep 26, 2011 at 12:44 PM UTC
My disposition isn't always a proud one.
The strange world where I can't help but ponder.
I look through and over yonder.
Sometimes it all holds me from my fun.
I struggle with habits.
Some bad and some old.
Sometimes they keep me from being bold.
They keep reminding me of the problems my mid inhabits.
I know I'll get back on track soon.
I have to.
I must stand up and tie my shoe.
I have to break out of this cocoon.
These chains binding me down.
The cold weather freezing me in place.
I always stop and look deep into space.
Soon it'll be time for me to leave this town.
I can not leave if I don't get to work.
I must embrace my dreams.
I have to follow that winding stream.
I have stop act and discontinue to lurk.
My life is in my hands and that's all I know.
I need to get ready for the life ahead.
It's time to start my tread.
Very soon I will go.
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 10:26 PM UTC
What if there were
building after building
of forces bending us to our end
Wits
Tuning it to our channels
Through chords and tunnel echoes
Losing our
Privacy
I'll find you tucked away
In my favorite folder
full of
Music
Pluck you out and
play you like a fiddle
Play you like a
Fiddle
They'll find us together
Tear us apart
And discontinue
our album
But I'll find you in that
place we call our
Own
I'll find you there
and we'll finally be free
Finally, free
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 1:50 PM UTC