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"dislocate" 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.
0
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 12:06 PM UTC
Is Dis Good or Is Dis Bad (a partici-poem)
1737 Rearrange a “Wife’s” affection! When they dislocate my Brain! Amputate my freckled ***** Make me bearded like a man! Blush, my spirit, in thy Fastness— Blush, my unacknowledged clay— Seven years of troth have taught thee More than Wifehood every may! Love that never leaped its socket— Trust entrenched in narrow pain— Constancy thro’ fire—awarded— Anguish—bare of anodyne! Burden—borne so far triumphant— None suspect me of the crown, For I wear the “Thorns” till Sunset— Then—my Diadem put on. Big my Secret but it’s bandaged— It will never get away Till the Day its Weary Keeper Leads it through the Grave to thee.
0
8.2k
Rearrange a “Wife’s” affection!
Foster, what family? Lower class, dream of  vacation ******** what trickles down, affecting a life situation White to Blue Collar; a rebuild or invasion? Millions inside the boxes of convention Justified superficial, backhanded salutations Refute Love, proposed as mankind’s invention Pulled by a string of instant gratification Finding freedom’s temporary If ever, long term locations Constricted, system of classifications The socially admissible connections, Not to mention gangs of corrections Flowing through the previous, my own generation For the infinite hours One after the other Trade integrity for the illusion of power Not all those with a gun should be considered a coward Face the souls sold on Wall Street, Remember those from Twin Towers Ground zero, abandoned. Now bare, desolate The idea of terrorism denied, while some wrestle it Rationales dislocate, post hairline fracture Frontal lobe imposter, posing in rapture As if talent, love, or hate could ever be captured Held at gun point, then forgotten years after My children will one day look to me for the answer What’s society, this twisted maze we live in? I will gaze in their eyes with the same exact question And don’t ever allow me again not to mention Real criminals can’t learn from minute or life-long detentions Some incapable of that level of retention As our battered soldiers forever sleep at attention Politically correct, tongues in consistent hesitation Kiss police *** only to go to the station Before the thought of who signed the citation Treated as if it were a felony violation Our basic rights according to our nation Arizona & Co for minority elimination Die fighting the statute of poverty’s limitations vi.i.xi
0
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 6:22 AM UTC
Statute Of Limitations
Foster, what family? Lower class, dream of  vacation ******** what trickles down, affecting a life situation White to Blue Collar; a rebuild or invasion? Millions inside the boxes of convention Justified superficial, backhanded salutations Refute Love, proposed as mankind’s invention Pulled by a string of instant gratification Finding freedom’s temporary If ever, long term locations Constricted, system of classifications The socially admissible connections, Not to mention gangs of corrections Flowing through the previous, my own generation For the infinite hours One after the other Trade integrity for the illusion of power Not all those with a gun should be considered a coward Face the souls sold on Wall Street, Remember those from Twin Towers Ground zero, abandoned. Now bare, desolate The idea of terrorism denied, while some wrestle it Rationales dislocate, post hairline fracture Frontal lobe imposter, posing in rapture As if talent, love, or hate could ever be captured Held at gun point, then forgotten years after My children will one day look to me for the answer What’s society, this twisted maze we live in? I will gaze in their eyes with the same exact question And don’t ever allow me again not to mention Real criminals can’t learn from minute or life-long detentions Some incapable of that level of retention As our battered soldiers forever sleep at attention Politically correct, tongues in consistent hesitation Kiss police *** only to go to the station Before the thought of who signed the citation Treated as if it were a felony violation Our basic rights according to our nation Arizona & Co for minority elimination Die fighting the statute of poverty’s limitations vi.i.xi
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40
i am --am i?-- yeah, i think i am drunk drunk drunk and signing myself up for selective service so i will be able to access my financial aid and not have to cough up almost $2,000 for one term that me and my bank account just really do not have, ya know? and that little dropdown menu well it doesn’t offer the option of: “i am being forced to sign up for this so i can afford college” because i guess that sounds less appealing than my being recruited during lunch while i watched my fellow (cis) male students dislocate their shoulders doing pull ups so the older boys in uniform would be proud of them and maybe even give them a nice little lanyard because after over $100 to get the right name and gender marker on my id and $60 to get a new birth certificate i’m male enough for the government to want to make into cannon fodder but i’m still not male enough to use the men’s room without the threat of being verbally harassed or physically assaulted and that just makes me so angry because here’s “bone-spurs donnie” a known draft dodger of at least 5 times who had the money to pay off any doctor he wanted trying his hardest to ban trans people from enlisting to fight in a war backed by a country that wants them dead yet that little M on my id that i paid so much for makes me eligible to be blown to bits or come back to a country that doesn’t want me anymore with my brains scrambled from shell shock and ptsd because this country is willing to pretty much force-feed young men into the bottomless belly of the war machine always stoking the fires of the military industrial complex with money and unscarred flesh and so much lies and so much fear mongering and i am just so tired of having to fill in that little bubble with my ballpoint pen and a click of the mouse pledging what could easily be the rest of my life to being riddled with bullets miles away from home just so i can grab that financial aid that perpetual carrot being dangled in front of my oh so transgender and queer nose so i can afford an education and not become another statistic another person that the united states of amerikkka has failed
0
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 2:07 AM UTC
the war machine don't want me
i am --am i?-- yeah, i think i am drunk drunk drunk and signing myself up for selective service so i will be able to access my financial aid and not have to cough up almost $2,000 for one term that me and my bank account just really do not have, ya know? and that little dropdown menu well it doesn’t offer the option of: “i am being forced to sign up for this so i can afford college” because i guess that sounds less appealing than my being recruited during lunch while i watched my fellow (cis) male students dislocate their shoulders doing pull ups so the older boys in uniform would be proud of them and maybe even give them a nice little lanyard because after over $100 to get the right name and gender marker on my id and $60 to get a new birth certificate i’m male enough for the government to want to make into cannon fodder but i’m still not male enough to use the men’s room without the threat of being verbally harassed or physically assaulted and that just makes me so angry because here’s “bone-spurs donnie” a known draft dodger of at least 5 times who had the money to pay off any doctor he wanted trying his hardest to ban trans people from enlisting to fight in a war backed by a country that wants them dead yet that little M on my id that i paid so much for makes me eligible to be blown to bits or come back to a country that doesn’t want me anymore with my brains scrambled from shell shock and ptsd because this country is willing to pretty much force-feed young men into the bottomless belly of the war machine always stoking the fires of the military industrial complex with money and unscarred flesh and so much lies and so much fear mongering and i am just so tired of having to fill in that little bubble with my ballpoint pen and a click of the mouse pledging what could easily be the rest of my life to being riddled with bullets miles away from home just so i can grab that financial aid that perpetual carrot being dangled in front of my oh so transgender and queer nose so i can afford an education and not become another statistic another person that the united states of amerikkka has failed
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76
words come to me from the roots of a resonant hazard I wonder if we fool ourselves that the future is open Heisenberg paradox in our eyes, starseeds in yours billions of years of solitude haunt me we carry supernova physics in our bodies only they know what we are attempting, we are crazy enough to dislocate the inception of language we should carrefully ponder the meaning of the words with which we slowly killed our bonds we should consider the poiesis of living words have no meaning, only texture
0
Sep 20, 2023
Sep 20, 2023 at 1:54 PM UTC
words
Dislocate me from existence Put me with the stars Far enough away to see the distance Into darkness without reprieve Under burned down trees and their shadows I do not need your voice to convince me of things like worth or the color of my blood These things I am sure of My heart writes me letters about these things Forget about what we said we were Remember I was alone in your company Your words filled with hot air Boiling your words Evaporating anything permanent Liberate our nerves from any feeling we might of shared Untie my limbs Stretching out the presence Drenching my skin with freedom Calming the gooseflesh upon my bones The well in our chests hides secrets Ones that your words never pulled The well filled with tainted water So I added whiskey And liberated your grasp I will forever forgive you Blending business with pleasure Drowning yourself in an empty well Dragging feet into the desert of our yesterdays choices
0
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
Independence
Down the streets that whisper names, through lace curtains people play their parlour games twitching sneaking looks from behind Gothic scripted leather bound books and overstuffed chairs where ***** is taken and sherry drunk and tea biscuits dunked in warm Earl Grey and another day begins in mill house town. Locomotives sweating steel feel their way across the bridge to Morecambe bay where there's a different class of folk used to smoke and steaming coal to steam the fish within the bowl. And the bowl is either empty or it is not never in between, Like the life we live a lot is never seen but talked in murmurs on street corners by former miners agitators free creative thinking men who know to use the pen and not the sword but they're starving all the same all in the name democracy. We see it differently a heresy that's being perpetrated to dislocate and disengage and put poor people in a cage. In the zoo you'll come to see democracy through iron bars Tsars that's what these suited tyrants are well suited to the task in hand to strip the land of all its wealth and let's not forget the National health which is good enough for me and you they'll feed us anything here in the zoo. Bupa now that is super for the supermen and ladies too who come to visit on Saturdays at the zoo. I don't know what to do should I laugh or cry or demonstrate or have I left it all too late? What a God **** awful state we're in It's one for all or ****** all and then we'll fall into the straw strewn ******** across the floor in cage 3b I see but can't decide have I died and gone to hell? well only time will tell.
0
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 12:07 PM UTC
I used to live here
Down the streets that whisper names, through lace curtains people play their parlour games twitching sneaking looks from behind Gothic scripted leather bound books and overstuffed chairs where ***** is taken and sherry drunk and tea biscuits dunked in warm Earl Grey and another day begins in mill house town. Locomotives sweating steel feel their way across the bridge to Morecambe bay where there's a different class of folk used to smoke and steaming coal to steam the fish within the bowl. And the bowl is either empty or it is not never in between, Like the life we live a lot is never seen but talked in murmurs on street corners by former miners agitators free creative thinking men who know to use the pen and not the sword but they're starving all the same all in the name democracy. We see it differently a heresy that's being perpetrated to dislocate and disengage and put poor people in a cage. In the zoo you'll come to see democracy through iron bars Tsars that's what these suited tyrants are well suited to the task in hand to strip the land of all its wealth and let's not forget the National health which is good enough for me and you they'll feed us anything here in the zoo. Bupa now that is super for the supermen and ladies too who come to visit on Saturdays at the zoo. I don't know what to do should I laugh or cry or demonstrate or have I left it all too late? What a God **** awful state we're in It's one for all or ****** all and then we'll fall into the straw strewn ******** across the floor in cage 3b I see but can't decide have I died and gone to hell? well only time will tell.
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45
my feet dangle by the edge of the rooftop and i am terrified that i have every ounce of courage slowly building up inside of me my soles still sting from the glass shards that sliced my knuckles open and it was odd how my mind exclusively focused on my feet and not the hands that engaged into combat with my reflection my hair is in the way, quickly growing into the nuisance it will always be it tastes of cheap shampoo, cigarettes, fumes and yesterday's drug abuse but let me tell you this, i do not do drugs but the cuts on my fingers, and the dirt under my nails, will tell you that i do it was just a misunderstanding, a punch to the face, a jaw i thought would dislocate, and tears swelling up, obstructed by a lip bite away i am not clean, i can show you my wrists as proof and more on my arms to gain your sorry's and mercy but i do not want attention it's funny since i'm the one seated at the edge of the rooftop, the top floor, the 22nd and i am trying to capture the entire city by a single look, including my peripheral vision trying to picture, the edges of the photograph it will be but my hair is in the way, and i can barely see so i pretend to perceive the scenery yet attempt to not disregard the words i think they speak their sounds start to appear as turbid as a puddle of mud and yet everyone looks happy enough from up here i grow eager by the second thoughts do not outstretch and remain abrupt as my legs suspend high up from the ground and i hope to stay irrelevant as my fingers slip from the concrete and my wrists twist toward the wind i will not think of my last words until i am close enough to outline the features on their faces, and trace the roads that are lining up with vehicles, boarded with individuals who will not see me until i am scattered on the pavement n.j.
0
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
everyone looks happy enough from up here
my feet dangle by the edge of the rooftop and i am terrified that i have every ounce of courage slowly building up inside of me my soles still sting from the glass shards that sliced my knuckles open and it was odd how my mind exclusively focused on my feet and not the hands that engaged into combat with my reflection my hair is in the way, quickly growing into the nuisance it will always be it tastes of cheap shampoo, cigarettes, fumes and yesterday's drug abuse but let me tell you this, i do not do drugs but the cuts on my fingers, and the dirt under my nails, will tell you that i do it was just a misunderstanding, a punch to the face, a jaw i thought would dislocate, and tears swelling up, obstructed by a lip bite away i am not clean, i can show you my wrists as proof and more on my arms to gain your sorry's and mercy but i do not want attention it's funny since i'm the one seated at the edge of the rooftop, the top floor, the 22nd and i am trying to capture the entire city by a single look, including my peripheral vision trying to picture, the edges of the photograph it will be but my hair is in the way, and i can barely see so i pretend to perceive the scenery yet attempt to not disregard the words i think they speak their sounds start to appear as turbid as a puddle of mud and yet everyone looks happy enough from up here i grow eager by the second thoughts do not outstretch and remain abrupt as my legs suspend high up from the ground and i hope to stay irrelevant as my fingers slip from the concrete and my wrists twist toward the wind i will not think of my last words until i am close enough to outline the features on their faces, and trace the roads that are lining up with vehicles, boarded with individuals who will not see me until i am scattered on the pavement n.j.
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24
I may have taken you for granted but you took me too soon Adulthood, What about you makes me feel the need to embellish this rune? I look down from my eyelids onto the hands in which I mold Manipulate; take shape, as the do as they are told Except with too many chemicals these extremities begin to shake Dislocate and replace what I enchant to what I make. Furthermore, I may have taken you for granted but you took me too soon I don’t mind the responsibility but it’s my mind that I sometimes loose Over the slow man, the pedestrian and all the chatter from the rest of them In the simple things is what you’re supposed to love but it’s the simple things that **** me off When I have one point to make and nobody knows the difference And finally, I may have taken you for granted but you took me too soon I’m always away doing something that the other kids never do Was I the only one who got the message from my god? The holy ghost of asking questions followed by a subtle nod As neurotic as that is followed by how it could be I found the script to the autobiography of being me Sincerely ****
0
Apr 21, 2012
Apr 21, 2012 at 5:22 PM UTC
18+
A look can tell you a lot of things. Between lover and haters... or even those maybe laters Suffocate or dislocate, procreate or... Not. Is life really that simple? The literal hammer-time or a coke with lime Friendly fire or boy for hire to do your... Dishes. Not complicated at all. Can we really look into the eyes of our lover and see all that we wish to happen? Or is it a simple diversion, conversion into... Nothingness. I tend to see it simply. I care about you, we like to **** and otherwise **** on... Lollipops. Take out of it what you will, but I’m not going to change or leave I like it here, hunting deer, and smelling fear in Love.
0
Jan 27, 2012
Jan 27, 2012 at 3:52 AM UTC
S.L.Y.B
Basics of the broken jaw speech Selected deliverance on the Day of Reckoning Violent seraphs contained in cages of tattered flesh and bone Tear and sew Tear and sew A massacre of crows Ribs of my mother’s swine Ribs of my father’s lunatic mind Apocalyptic cataclysm for coliseum vomitorium Dislocate the providence of manifesting confrontation Agitate the skin and scrape rotten the wreckage of man
0
Apr 24, 2011
Apr 24, 2011 at 9:00 AM UTC
(de)Humanized (d)Evil
Smiles and eyes, and hi’s You take them so lightly But they’re not really there Though you perceive their presence Amicable eyes, Positive semblance of a frame You take it a smile to the self But that’s just part of a Structure twisting and falling apart But if it suits you Fall in the false appearance For that’s not what's being transmitted Only a distorted face trying To dislocate phrases and thoughts
0
Aug 5, 2011
Aug 5, 2011 at 6:14 AM UTC
The Incredible Façade
there was a little snake a funny sort of chap he could stretch his body and round a tree could wrap open up his mouth and dislocate his jaw till his mouth got bigger and he could eat lots more he could slide around and do it with such ease then constrict his prey by giving it a squeeze coil up in a circle and make a perfect ring a perfect peace of nature and clever little thing then when he had eaten he would fall asleep and when he awoke off again would creep.
0
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 6:27 PM UTC
clever snake
"Bad" "'Bad' is just a huge promise of a song. A friend of mine, about as close as you can get, squandered his intelligence and his gifts to ****** Dublin in the late Seventies and early Eighties was a capital for smack. The Shah of Iran had been deposed, and people smuggled their money out of that country in white gold and pearls, by which I mean ****** It was cheaper than **** it was cheaper than smoking spliff, and a lot of sweet teenage kids, who just liked to smoke a little bit of ***** were offered this cheap high, something beyond their imagination... I tried to describe that with the song, 'Bad, what it was to feel that rush, to feel that elation, and then go on to the nod, awful sleep that comes with that drug..." - Bono, U2 By U2 2006 If you twist and turn away If you tear yourself in two again If I could, yes I would If I could, I would let it go Surrender, dislocate If I could throw this lifeless Lifeline to the wind Leave this heart of clay See you walk, walk away Into the night And through the rain Into the half-light And through the flame If I could, through myself Set your spirit free I'd lead your heart away See you break, break away Into the light And to the day To let it go And so to find a way To let it go And so find a way I'm wide awake I'm wide awake I'm not sleeping Oh, no, no If you should ask, then maybe They'd tell you what I would say True colours fly in blue and black Blue silken sky and burning flag Colours crash, collide in blood shot eyes If I could, you know I would If I could, I would let it go This desparation Dislocation Separation Condemnation Revelation In temptation Isolation Desolation Let it go And so to find a way To let it go And so find a way Oh, no I'm wide awake I'm wide awake I'm not sleeping Oh, no no
0
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 6:51 PM UTC
U2
"Bad" "'Bad' is just a huge promise of a song. A friend of mine, about as close as you can get, squandered his intelligence and his gifts to ****** Dublin in the late Seventies and early Eighties was a capital for smack. The Shah of Iran had been deposed, and people smuggled their money out of that country in white gold and pearls, by which I mean ****** It was cheaper than **** it was cheaper than smoking spliff, and a lot of sweet teenage kids, who just liked to smoke a little bit of ***** were offered this cheap high, something beyond their imagination... I tried to describe that with the song, 'Bad, what it was to feel that rush, to feel that elation, and then go on to the nod, awful sleep that comes with that drug..." - Bono, U2 By U2 2006 If you twist and turn away If you tear yourself in two again If I could, yes I would If I could, I would let it go Surrender, dislocate If I could throw this lifeless Lifeline to the wind Leave this heart of clay See you walk, walk away Into the night And through the rain Into the half-light And through the flame If I could, through myself Set your spirit free I'd lead your heart away See you break, break away Into the light And to the day To let it go And so to find a way To let it go And so find a way I'm wide awake I'm wide awake I'm not sleeping Oh, no, no If you should ask, then maybe They'd tell you what I would say True colours fly in blue and black Blue silken sky and burning flag Colours crash, collide in blood shot eyes If I could, you know I would If I could, I would let it go This desparation Dislocation Separation Condemnation Revelation In temptation Isolation Desolation Let it go And so to find a way To let it go And so find a way Oh, no I'm wide awake I'm wide awake I'm not sleeping Oh, no no
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53
Wasn't ready to be no millionaire, I was ill-prepared I was prepared to be ill though, the skill was there In the beginning, it wasn't 'bout the ends It was 'bout busting raps and standing for something, ******* acronym Cut the ******* act like you're happy, I'm ******* back again With another anthem, why stop when it doesn't have to end? It ain't over 'til I say it's over – enough when I say enough Throw me to them wolves and close the gate up I'm afraid of what'll happen to them wolves When the thought of being thrown into an alligator pit, I salivated it Weight is up, hands up like it's 12 noon, nah, homie Hold them ******* straighter up, wave 'em 'til you dislocate a rotator cuff Came up rough, came to ruffle feathers, nah, egos I ain't deflate enough, last chance to make this whole stadium erupt cause
0
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 6:58 AM UTC
survival
My wrists are tied to individual ropes The ropes are taut and hold up my body My head lays limp... My legs hang swaying... And my eyes are beginning to lose sight. The ropes keep getting reeled in And my arms... My arms are slowly losing sense Slowly losing sense... As they are Slowly Ripped Off and out of my Torso. But I don't scream. As my arms are stretched further away Further away From my heart and my brain I don't scream. As my heart becomes numb and my mind slowly loses its voice. I don't scream. As my ears become powerless. I Don't Scream... I Don't.... Scream But... But I whisper... And each word echoes off of the cool grey cobblestones that rise over me No person hears my whispers... Not anymore. No person can see me.. Not anymore. And slowly... slowly... I am forgotten, As my arms begin to lose their cohesion And my joints begin to dislocate... And my eyes become blind. And my ears become deaf. And my heart and mind stop. My arms are final ripped off of my body. My body falls Through the air... And remains, In a state of falling...
0
Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 9:09 AM UTC
Taut
Opens with some lucidity after the world has gone limp                            like marionettes slides up to a good posture and the everything rises                             and blooms All is well-enough Not to do any-thing Sit back a relax People crave the expected, Give em' the song and dance act: Unseal her, let the air out Pretend her hair is different Let the left-over shape mean something Make it the secret of Life Cue the yellow hue live your memories in a fuzzy lens Slow the images, it's raining sunshine Demi-god celebrities play your part you're the star be able to keep your heart                                                  in one place                                                           lock it up Take a pause. . . . . . Hit the spotlight, change the focus, transfer the weight                 shift                       the                             burden Wide     eyed     shot dark shadows back alleys open veins american pulp love with an insanity twist Make the events your life dislocate the easiness                      Cut to the bed                                 torn to shreds Blood slow on the back, warm wine on the wrist all reddened by friction Drop           Strange the angle change dunce cap and a corner prayer                         the catharsis framework Go back to the clear cut beginning-end                crawl through the webbed nothingness                             the vapor of conversation                                   reality pushed upon                                                    the drooling stranger through the bedroom window               eyes like a bone-saw, artificial Pity him Become him Time has been extended over the back-lit stage          a lucky break waking up with an adrenaline needle in your chest          a resuscitation                  Take the life from the shelf               Contradict yourself, very well, Contradict yourself     Make the impossible concrete, the unreal cities grow like roses               Cut to Black rip a hole for light, you're gonna need it                      Role the credits, see the forgotten names which mean forgotten faces you've hung on sit in the dark clap to yourself         to this far away distraction you're the hero and you've made it make sense in the rearrangement                               of                                                blood                                                love                                        and voyeurism
0
Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 8:25 AM UTC
The Film Over the Eye
Opens with some lucidity after the world has gone limp                            like marionettes slides up to a good posture and the everything rises                             and blooms All is well-enough Not to do any-thing Sit back a relax People crave the expected, Give em' the song and dance act: Unseal her, let the air out Pretend her hair is different Let the left-over shape mean something Make it the secret of Life Cue the yellow hue live your memories in a fuzzy lens Slow the images, it's raining sunshine Demi-god celebrities play your part you're the star be able to keep your heart                                                  in one place                                                           lock it up Take a pause. . . . . . Hit the spotlight, change the focus, transfer the weight                 shift                       the                             burden Wide     eyed     shot dark shadows back alleys open veins american pulp love with an insanity twist Make the events your life dislocate the easiness                      Cut to the bed                                 torn to shreds Blood slow on the back, warm wine on the wrist all reddened by friction Drop           Strange the angle change dunce cap and a corner prayer                         the catharsis framework Go back to the clear cut beginning-end                crawl through the webbed nothingness                             the vapor of conversation                                   reality pushed upon                                                    the drooling stranger through the bedroom window               eyes like a bone-saw, artificial Pity him Become him Time has been extended over the back-lit stage          a lucky break waking up with an adrenaline needle in your chest          a resuscitation                  Take the life from the shelf               Contradict yourself, very well, Contradict yourself     Make the impossible concrete, the unreal cities grow like roses               Cut to Black rip a hole for light, you're gonna need it                      Role the credits, see the forgotten names which mean forgotten faces you've hung on sit in the dark clap to yourself         to this far away distraction you're the hero and you've made it make sense in the rearrangement                               of                                                blood                                                love                                        and voyeurism
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70
it's a little but plenty it's so cheap but expensive. It's so brave but it's cautios and so sweet nearly noxious. it's so full, and so empty it's so bright and so tempting so fulfilling and breaking what it gives you will take it. It will knock you off your feet it will dislocate your heart it will wither your bones and it's not even the worst part. It will starve you and leave you then take back and forgive too it will beat you up daily hourly make life dreary it will spill, it will cry when you turn away wry lift you higher than heaven bury deeper than hell your vision will better but blindness will find a way. you will come out a ******* egocentric but lost selfish, trustless and beaten sell yourself for no cost. throw yourself at a stranger look for comfort and "it" years will pass, pain will ease you'll still die incomplete.
0
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 2:40 PM UTC
Untitled
there was a little snake a funny sort of chap he could stretch his body and round a tree could wrap open up his mouth and dislocate his jaw till his mouth got bigger and eat could eat lots more. he could slide around and do it with such ease then constrict his prey by giving it a squeeze coil up in a circle and make a perfect ring a perfect peace of nature and clever little thing. then when he had eaten he would fall asleep and when he awoke off again would creep.
0
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 7:54 AM UTC
clever snake
Love you lots, Despite the pain Despite the rain From my eyes Under blue sunlit skies, In spite Waking up Restless in the night Were I An abandoned pup I cannot lie, I miss you Night and day And I have no clue What else to say, My mind in knots I cannot undo As I think of you, Minor relief Knowing you're alive But that disbelief Still lingers Nine to Five; Dead ringers All the pictures Permanent fixtures In my head That I cannot Dislocate Until I'm dead, And for that I wait Patiently Fervently, Though a race This is not, It is a surer bet Than to ever see your face Again; which I will never forget... APAD13 - 146 © okpoet
0
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 5:28 AM UTC
Dead Ringers...
the subway is dark and cramped fluorescent lights dim under the thick smog that shouldn't be here your legs lock up sudden and then nothing then only nothing you don't come back until you're at the hospital eyes bleary against the white light and yellow walls as they press an oxygen mask against you you can't help but wonder how you got here here in the antiseptic dreams of cancer patients while you stare at the cracks in the ceiling it's not that you can't dream it's just that you don't here against the black lights with pulsing music here against the knife fights in dark alleys you dislocate two fingers and enjoy the pain you chain-smoke Marlboro's for an hour and a half and by the time you've finished two packs your head is spinning and you can't think you scribble on a piece of paper until you can't move your arms and the ink bleeds through onto the kitchen table you can't breathe for three days and when you can again the doctors tell you that there's something wrong you shut your eyes and you forget how to open them i.v.'s appear in your wrist after two days and you keep taking them out at your funeral, you can't hear the songs they play because you can't breathe inside that wooden box you can see the stars flickering above you but your eyes are shut you stop being able to remember the third grade suddenly nothing and then only nothing
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Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
The Antiseptic Dreams of Cancer Patients
Thoughts can rearrange, And feelings can dislocate. But Memories could never change, Nor could we modify our fate. What’s meant to be might occur, If we try enough to get there, But I must give up I’m sure, Even If I once would care. Thoughts I had are gone, They disappeared at last. Your time here was far overdrawn, Even if it seems you left fast. But deep inside my soul, A piece of you remains. You made one big hole, Why must people insist you’re vane? You’ve shown me many times, That not all of you is appalling. You’re not capable of such crimes, You’re really just pretending.
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May 19, 2012
May 19, 2012 at 12:21 AM UTC
Thoughts
Border line Dead inside I don't mind Falling to pieces Count me in Violent Let's begin Feeding the sickness How do I Simplify Dislocate The enemy's on the way Show me what it's like to dream in black and white So I can leave this world tonight Full of fear Ever-clear I'll be here Fighting forever Curious Venomous You'll find me Climbing to heaven Never mind Turn back time You'll be fine I will get left behind Show me what it's like to dream in black and white So I can leave this world tonight Holding on too tight Breathe the breath of life So I can leave this world behind It only hurts just once They're only broken bones Hide the hate inside So I can leave this world behind Show me what it's like to dream in black and white So I can leave this world tonight Holding on too tight Breathe the breath of life So I can leave this world behind
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Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 9:14 AM UTC
Unknown Soldier - Benjamin Benjamin
COLD,rush of warm,BLOOD ?,damn,quiet,choices? confusion? feeling? grey,ringing in very low tones,911 in a blizzard? wait and find the cuts ,big mess ,broken tables,? will the others know I am "broken" pain LOL ,LIVING in short bursts,how many joints can you dislocate at once? IT pushes me down WHY,WHEN,MAYBE FORGET THIS TIME? clicking sounds dark,blue,green,feelings flat lined?VERY small mind,closed,peeking out? IT WON'T LEAVE RICK
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May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 10:12 PM UTC
I WILL KEEP MYSELF I WILL FIND A WAY(prose)
it remembers me. the sky. the mouth above the mouth. the lightless gullet where clouds go to rot. i kneel in the driveway and my bones click like prayer beads. i say nothing. the wind fills in the blanks. above, the bruised vault peels open. something pours out that smells like me— ozone and old milk and motherlessness. i know this feeling. the ache behind the eye. the tug in the marrow. the static in the throat right before god speaks and forgets my name again. the sky remembers me. like blood remembers stain. like salt remembers wound. like hunger remembers teeth. and so i let it. i open my mouth and taste iron, and ascend. not float. not rise. just— dislocate upward until every tendon sings its own name and snaps like wet string. there is no rupture. there is no goodbye. only the soft gulp of return
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Apr 17, 2025
Apr 17, 2025 at 3:43 AM UTC
mouth above the mouth