"disentangle" poems
the redness of my mouth tells
the truth without me
take a leap into breath
disentangle the days
suffering can wait
can wash away,
can carry her weight
somewhere else,
can push boundaries
like you pull a chewing gum
take a leap into the future
what is future
I don't understand it
shouts my current blood
this mind is expanding
well, yes not at the speed
of the universe colliding
but but but
thought has antigravitational
engines, you just feed it
feed yourself
with knowledge
take a leap into your voice
don't tremble
let it out
let the sun come out of
your mouth
be brave
like the spin of particles
they don't know the right way before
before the collapse
into something bigger, wiser
take a leap into this or that
into the unknown
it's gonna be fine
you can shook yourself of tears, of dust
you can be a smile
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 1:42 PM UTC
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
Now you realize what you did,
you took it too far,
this time it was to deep,
to raw,
now its going to be hard for us both.
I asked for your help
' Its never ending, I again want to die.
Please tell me why?
Be my Soul Mate now just talk to me
help me find my life again.
Not with you, just my life. '
I couldn't get your abuse out of my system
you repeated
"You need to do the leaving"
"Let's die rather then not be together"
I said
"Only with You".
The ongoing flashbacks
of pressurizing
demanding
me to do what you wanted
heightened in Athens.
Questioning all that happened
what did it mean
just
******* my soul and body
So abused
I couldn't disentangle from it
So violated
And you continued it
with your talk and talk.
Your lies of reflection and regret
Your abuse of my love and belief
Then my desperate wish was granted
You made contact via a third party
On reflection
to address the end, to answer my questions,
to give us some meaning, to help us move on with our lives
you cared about my life, to be honest.
the day, the place, the time, the third party all set
then you renegade last minute, no explanation, once again shut me out
without a thought for my life, you willful behavior, ongoing abuse.
So finally now I know you are a pathological liar.
I don't give a **** about you anymore.
Its like I have woken from a nightmare
I have no more energy for you
I am not afraid of the fall out of exposing you
I will no longer protect the secret.
The legal proceedings will tell the truth
And you will have to face your demons.
I will move on with my life
which is so much bigger than yours.
I will fight on to free myself from
your abuse.
My life no longer tenuous.
This is the end of my series of poems - love and deception.
The courts will be my voice.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 11:03 AM UTC
Before moon comes out to show
Lack of progress I think I'll get drunk
Could make better decisions
Life is easier to flunk
I look down, hide my shamefIul eyes
Heart lays in the dirt
Wrung out, tossed aside like trash
Can I run from this hurt?
I placed expectations high
In the wrong box, the wrong shelf
Cannot disentangle, stuck to my mistakes
Try but fail to fix myself
**** it, I am gonna get high
Life too short to live sober, full of sorrow
Rather die tonight with smoke in happy lungs
Than survive an endless number of substance free tomorrows
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 3:40 PM UTC
Wouldn't you say,
Wouldn't you say: one day,
With a little more time or a little more patience, one might
Disentangle for separate, deliberate, slow delight
One of the moment's hundred strands, unfray
Beginnings from endings, this from that, survey
Say a square inch of the ground one stands on, touch
Part of oneself or a leaf or a sound (not clutch
Or cuff or bruise but touch with finger-tip, ear-
Tip, eyetip, creeping near yet not too near);
Might take up life and lay it on one's palm
And, encircling it in closeness, warmth and calm,
Let it lie still, then stir smooth-softly, and
Tendril by tendril unfold, there on one's hand ...
One might examine eternity's cross-section
For a second, with slightly more patience, more time for reflection?
2.8k
knot
upon
knot of ironies
that leave us **(upon
knot)**
to disentangle upon
irony from irony knot
(from irony)
May 8, 2012
May 8, 2012 at 9:44 AM UTC
Newspapers are only covered in ***** print;
of despair and distress and danger playing master of our moves.
So I can’t talk to you through that.
Paintings are for love songs left unsung;
they are the inner kept journals of unrequited dreams,
scrawls of abuse or lumps of hurt, growing like tumours.
You wouldn’t understand.
So I can’t talk to you through that.
Music is only for the sunlit realm of lovers found;
of certainty and confidence and devotion above the sordid,
tangled affairs of wayward souls.
Living in a fantasy to escape the loneliness aching in soft spots inside.
So I can’t talk to you through that.
Letters are lost in nostalgia;
a celebration to be had, words unspoken for decades,
births and deaths, reserved for life events detailed in the past.
So I can’t talk to you through that.
Movies are just reenactments of dreams;
stunning heroes, masters of skill, justice seekers,
adventures of awe, loves broken but patched together with stronger yarn.
A world of little lies to helps better cope with heartache and grief.
We can’t immortalise ourselves in something
when it runs the risk of breaking.
So I can’t talk to you through that.
But I can do something much harder
then writing or filming or singing or painting…
I can give it all up, over to you.
I can trace patterns across your shoulders as you wake,
our special language which tells you I love you, I’m trying to trust you.
I can write you little notes, decadent words and sultry ideas,
and make a trail for you to follow to me.
I can be vulnerable in your arms, more than skin and internals
and a framework of bones.
I can be more real with you than I have never known to be possible.
It’s not just me showing how much I need you by the length I hold your kiss,
or how long it takes for us to disentangle ourselves from sleep, how often
we see each other naked.
It’s more the heart I dare draw on your skin with my lips.
Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 7:48 AM UTC
They sat in his closet,
His shoes.
In the comfortable dark.
They seemed like him;
Well worn, and content.
I looked them over
Believing they were homelike,
Believing they were soft,
Unlike the hard soles I wear;
The small and binding ones
That sometimes give blisters,
Making me feel that his shoes
Would be much nicer to wear.
"Try them", he said,
And he handed them to me;
So I put them on.
And they didn't seem so bad.
"Walk in them", he then said.
And once I'd walked a mile, or so,
I felt the pebbles that had migrated
into the tears that I hadn't seen before,
I felt the roughness of the tread,
already exhausted from endless journeys;
I bent to disentangle the laces,
frayed from having been tied,
and retied.
My feet hurt.
I put on my own shoes.
They felt different.
They suited me more;
with new-found room to grow.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
I spent today reeling you in.
threads of your silk love
fluttered through the air
like broken, escaped spider webs
how can you be at once everywhere and nowhere?
on an old voyage moment
you rebuked me:
“You’re looking with the wrong eyes,
my dear”
But my eyes don’t dart differently.
I sit with the innumerable knots of your
miscellaneous elations.
I sift for the ends to start
unraveling, adapting
but maybe you are just one continuous
Idea
as lo
ng as we’
re
tan
gled,
Bind
the fibers of my physical being
catch
the flapping petals
falling from my
composed mannerisms
stitch
your whimsy
into each atom
of my salient figure-
fuse your feathered fabric
into my most raw elements.
My life is a matted disarray
of your truest notions-
A yarn Mount choreographed from
the diminutive strands
of your blinking captured freedom
I spent today reeling you in-
So- entwine me, Love,
net me forever, Sweet,
my dearest jumble to disentangle
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
Saintly cassock,
Glittering altar
Ornamental pulpit.
Driving the congregants
in a paroxysm of fib,
Gullibility enshrines adherents
hearts.
Do you know the Messiah more
than the apostles ?
Thou traders in the temple.
Parrotic tongues set out
commands
Loquacious sweet-coated mouths
misdirects faithfuls.
But the uncreated Creator who
creates creatures watches
Dreadful silence astonishingly
permeates the entireness
of the universe.
Do you preach love?
Do you follow peace with all?
Ye robbers in the temple.
Command darkness to produce
light.
But you turned moonlight into
tale.
Can you display Davidic dance
steps on the road?
Profanity of sanctuary with
false homiletics.
Merchants of dross in tabernacle
Speak.
Let us hear you.
Preach
To the congregants.
Righteousness afar from the
apron of faith.
Charity locked up in the
tunic of hope.
Sanctity of holiness sprinkled
into the tributary of sin.
Commanding the stars to turn
to sun,
Captains of night in light.
Ye robbers in the sanctuary.
Pastoral advertisers of chattels
in the tabernacle,
Merchandising gold dross in
sermonic hymns.
Sugar-coated doctrine wept in
the tomb of Lazarus.
Prompting Him to weep again?
Ye merchants in synagogue.
Disentangle faithfuls from the
webs of worriment.
Dislodge congregants out of the
shackles of sin.
Deliver ignoramus from the
isle of incendiary.
Let the sifter of strength
separate out afflictions from
feebleminded faithfuls.
Ye robbers in the temple
You love prayers more than God
But who answers prayers?
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 3:45 AM UTC
*An oracle possessed by a spirit disquieted,
he contains a world unknown even to himself,
a poem gets written by itself, within himself,
organizing material eclectically on its own
from roots to crust, essence of experiences,
mingle with hopes, fears and yearnings,
creating alloys of emotions, welding words to mean different,
fixing formations and evocative images,
when he stops contended, unfinished yet, many parts in dark still,
then the readers get themselves invited in to the thickets,
disentangle the vines, make way through the foliage thick,
hanging branches and twigs, light falls in the darkened corners,
the poet and creator, the oracle himself, sits looking at the flowers and fruits
bathed in a new light, on what the subconscious spoke,
when he listens, the singing of the birds acquires new meaning,
sound of the running brook has a rhythm not familiar,
that take him to the sea, where all end in a swim, like in a dream*
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 3:16 PM UTC
in our world filled
with noise and chaos
how is it we can attain
peace within us?
in our world filled
with so many distractions
how is it we can disentangle
from all the interactions?
in our world filled
with news of wars
how is it we can keep
ourselves from sinking down too far?
in our world filled
with jealousy and hatred
how is it we can be free
of being baited?
in our world filled
with many a story
how is it we can rise
above the need for glory?
in our world filled
to the brim
how is it we can attain
peace from within?
in our personal world
we can be the change
we desire to see globally,
our inner self we rearrange
with inner peace
as our goal
let's watch it resonate
out to the world as a whole
Jul 21, 2010
Jul 21, 2010 at 7:04 AM UTC
Pan left and zoom in
on the corner of my mind
Disentangle the heartache
and Reassemble the pieces
of time
Pan right and zoom out
to grasp the bigger picture
a muted pink surface reflecting
a distant past
Swept away
Never had I imagined
the burn
that resides in
the pit of my stomach
You cause me heartburn,
But there's no stopping it
That burn, that need, that desire
Is what keeps me from
falling apart
I don't want to get burned
but when playing with fire
there's no way to stop
The flames keep on rising
and I'm burning to the core
just keep getting closer
There's something
I want to explore
Apr 4, 2010
Apr 4, 2010 at 12:12 PM UTC
*Aimless wander
In the unfathomed depths
I drove into the walls of truth
And
Disentangled my mind
From the imprudent rationalisation
Of the subjective.*
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC
Her eyes close her breath slows
Skin softens pale pallor
Yet finds its glow
Beneath the stage lights
Then she explodes
Soft silver sequined shoes
Slowly ascend and descend
Arcing at an impossible angle
Her back arches deeper and deeper
Till one would expect to hear
Her body crack and snap in half
I gasp as she spins into a leap
Tears taint my tired cheeks
As the **** breaks
From the sorrows of this week
Arms circle backward
Shirt slightly rises
Exposing the years of discipline
Abs strong as the ocean tides
Open to the world then hide
Her body becomes a centrifuge
Separating part of her soul
From her poetic form
Spinning and smiling
As chestnut hair rapidly orbits her head
I am enchanted
One hour away from life
And I needed to see something beautiful
Not ******
But transcendent
Perpetually perfected movements
One hour to disentangle myself
From the nightmare of life
And I am eternally grateful
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 3:31 PM UTC
They come and go like coloured birds migrating
with maps of other countries in their brain.
You are a tree in which they pause, awaiting
an inner signal to set off again.
You stop, you listen, straining to decipher
the simultaneous songs that they intone,
knowing that so many men would die for
the chance to hear just one of them alone.
Summated, though, their singing’s but a jangle
of jarring chords and rampant dissonance,
the chaos that’s passed on from age to age.
And in a daze you dare to disentangle
a single thread of perfect eloquence
and tease it free and lay it on the page.
Dec 28, 2011
Dec 28, 2011 at 1:43 AM UTC
I am cog in the wheel
do not dismount me
I am cog in the wheel
of a not dreary chariot,
A marginal chariot chasing the
uppings of me.
I am a cog in the wheel
never detach me
I am cog in the wheel
of an ecstatic chariot,
A fancy chariot with horses
smiling at me.
I am cog in the wheel
dare not disentangle me
I am a cog in the wheel
of a suprising chariot,
A royal chariot hopping
to peculiarities of me.
I am cog in the wheel
suppose not disaffiliate me
I am cog in the wheel
of a heavenly chariot,
A pearly chariot scampering
towards hallucinations of me.
I am cog in the wheel
absurd not disassemble me
I am a cog in the wheel
of a spacious chariot,
A majestic chariot skipping
beyond incubus of me.
I am a cog in the wheel
please do not disassociate me
I am a cog in the wheel
of a cordial chariot,
A regal chariot escorting
development strands.
I am a cog in the wheel...
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 2:52 AM UTC
"Look at me sweet light, come make my inner eyes yours
light me up, I am the universe, spanning light years across
galaxies of desire and the renunciation at altissimo, the peak
disentangle the strands, liberate, to my abode let me go back
How long I've been sitting in meditative wait, for your caresses
for that divine touch that'd trigger ecstasy in multiples"
My journey is recorded in shades
of light and darkness, it's essence
returns to the flow eternal, dissolves.
I am the remembrance of nights
colored by sad, pale, soft moon light
that keeps watch to million secrets
preserved in double helix, passed over as
codes that keep on telling stories from
time immemorial,still kept safe within,
which is my zen 'kon' to contemplate
and erupt in enlightenment, my right.
I am melancholy light, driven away
when sea blue drinks sun at last, liquefied,
every tree top then one'd find covered
with fire flies that play an orchestra,
in an ascending wave, touching
the acme,then comes down rolling and dies.
We lived in a land of unimagined beauty
only a bit of it our conscious mind receives
that anointed us all it has, rain and wind
fog, ice and sleet,the warmth of summer,
remember the way winter made us tenderly
shiver together, as if we are explorers of a
world,we created and dissolve as we return.
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC
these words spread out,
in letters left but not forgotten
on screens that light up lonely rooms
praying silently
that you will read a deeper meaning
confessions and obsessions
longing for recognition
but in the end
it's more than that
it's thirsting for
enigmatic connection
lusting after
someone
anyone
to unravel
and in turn
to unravel me
someone who won't believe me
when I'm lying to myself
someone who will disentangle
the shadowed shambles
that haunt my bones
I pine for
a soul
to comprehend the corners of my mind
to memorize the knots along my spine
in the end
I cannot fathom
why any soul would try
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 3:32 AM UTC
DYSFUNCTIONING LIFE
Ayad Gharbawi
December 13, 2003 – Walton On Thames, Surrey
Passing by groaning graves
Stillness hushes now!
What once was Furious party
Lives of splendour and decadence
Now lie solemnly dead
Think, of your minds, I feel
Think, of your emotions, I feel
Where they been?
And so, think now, of where they now stand?
The severely sad
Are struggling now to cope
Fearing suicide
And yet,
Fearing life itself more
What a planet!
What a world!
Beauties of models, clubs, yachts, parties, mansions
Cripples of despised ones, hated ones, dry ones
Listening to me;
Where is all going, where is all being?
Where is it all, your civilization, you sick Humanity?
I wonder?
When we listen
To nothing
And no one
In our rage, shares our emotions raw
What then are the ‘rules’ for your life?
What are the ‘guidelines’ for your principles?
Is anyone there to tell me?
Or are we born naked here
And are we to live without reason?
Where are the Blessed ones?
Where are the just, Loving ones?
Where are the faithful, Compassionate ones?
Where are the dedicated, Faithful ones?
I’m still searching for you
Trustworthy ones
But from the rest of you all
I’m going to do one thing;
I am
Seeking to disentangle myself from you
From this filth
From myself
From my dysfunctional existences.
Dec 25, 2009
Dec 25, 2009 at 8:40 AM UTC
She spotted him once, in the early morning:
golden nectar spun upon the pillow, knotted into
a mane thick enough to hide his face from all sorts of bad dreams.
Time inhaled the dust motes playing in the sunlight and held its breath.
*“I know he’s over there doing god knows what with that woman. I still feel guilty.”*
She was ready to pounce. Muscles taut, crouch-hidden, she analyzed her prey.
A handsome lion he was. But no match for a skilled huntress.
A little hungry, that lion was. Hungry enough to gobble up his favorite gazelle from the herd.
*“She’s my baby girl. I’m not going to risk losing her because of ...us.”*
Who else was brave enough to disentangle the doe from the beast?
He roared and snarled and ranted and growled, but she never took her eyes off him.
Mommy always said you could lose yourself if you didn’t keep your eyes where they belonged.
“Let* it go. I love you both, but he came to me first.”*
Time coughed; the little huntress lunged into the lion’s den, well aware of the danger,
enough to be terrified when silence enveloped the savanna sheets.
Alone, she stood at the edge of the bed and watched her beloved gazelle morph into a lioness.
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 5:38 AM UTC
quite drunk in this evening tender with rue – there is a gentle hand
that whirls against the bougainvillea.
things remain to be constantly in the tranquil as I am not
yet shaken in my fragile frame –
the leaves rustle in the 19 degree cold moon,
the beer bottles emptied, stacked beside the receptacles.
she and I could be dead, and it took me 3 years to know this:
there is a photograph of her thrown somewhere
behind scraps of metal, caged there, like a jailbird
in a jailhouse, screaming blue against redness.
I had love, and love died.
you neither flinch nor move at the very slight of me,
passing over the porch of your reading.
the thing that once moved now festers
with stillness, and so many vibrant explosions begin in the sky
and there is nothing discernible in her abject eyes.
I remember driving past your home in front of
a little, quaint house and I swore that the even your voice
speaks to me in evenings full with the thought
of never knowing you again.
you are so real like the horse that grazes the field
underneath umbilicus of power-lines,
yet so fake and feigned like the truth that tries
to assess itself , crawling mazy back into my drunken arms
like a child startled speaking a thousand things
I have already no use for.
sometimes the sun is like a house on fire.
sometimes the simmer of onion smells like ******
most of the time, the look on my face, half-drunk and half-believing,
looks like a night distilled and fractured by voices.
I will never ask for your hands to touch,
I will never ask for you body to make heat,
I will never ask for your footsteps to chime in grave music:
I have my own defeats to keep me
that way: toppled and scrounging for light.
let me be.
I have seen many warfares and not a single shot of a rifle
has broken me into the man that I once was.
I drive back to you and it is never the same:
it is banal to say that you have yourself
and I have my own, deep in study.
let us drive back to roads whetted with kisses
and from there, start to disentangle
like leaves from boughs
deep in December.
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 7:03 AM UTC
lines of malice are penned
within ancient tomes
black and blue ink bruising
the human psyche beyond recognition
stunting our collective imagination
with fantasies of castles
among the clouds and intergalactic
beings who sculpted us from dust
intermittent smears
of crimson declarations
lingering in blood-soaked texts
painting portraits of putrid prejudice
the image of an illusory deity
devised to explain a cosmos
that defies codification and categorization
we mythologized and told tall tales like Arachne
spinning webs of misinformed misfortune
we're severing the strings of our imaginary enemies
silencing lives with rusty shears
utterly convinced by the edicts of idiots
how might we disentangle ourselves from mental
cobwebs and embrace reality's promising veracity
each of us an accidental miracle
captains of our own fortune's vessels
so weigh anchor and set course for distant shores
unfurl the sails of reason and hold fast
after weathering millennia of insipid beliefs
we'll sojourn ever onward with omnipotent minds
raze these sycophantic fantasies
and raise hell so high it becomes heaven
we will build a new city in the shell of this cold
dead society predicated on misanthropic religion
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 9:40 AM UTC
Frost carved a harmonious poem among the trees
As withering driftwood, thirsts for color
The petals weep with ink
Dank obscured whirlwinds that wish to stay
In fields of everlasting growth
I would disentangle my reasoning
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 10:39 PM UTC
I will take my time as I unravel the binds
That you laced around your figure,
My fingers handling the intricate knots with care,
And I will be attentive to every truss,
Making sure I get each one undone.
Slowly, you will disentangle from the
Untidiness that restricts and I will witness
The birth of your galaxies as you finally
Take a step out of your restraints.
You are my work of art,
My beautiful silhouette of an angel that
Was trapped far too long by the weight
Of the world that you encompassed.
I knew all along what lay beneath the cocoon
That you sheltered yourself in and,
As you take your first step with no hindrances,
I watch as you blossom into radiant colors,
Abstract light that brightens your face
And reveals your true essence.
I know in that moment,
That you are the most stunning butterfly
I have ever come across and
Every knot untied
Was worth it.
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 11:48 AM UTC