"dismantle" poems
I
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public
doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
II
O the valley in the summer where I and my John
Beside the deep river would walk on and on
While the flowers at our feet and the birds up above
Argued so sweetly on reciprocal love,
And I leaned on his shoulder; 'O Johnny, let's play':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O that Friday near Christmas as I well recall
When we went to the Charity Matinee Ball,
The floor was so smooth and the band was so loud
And Johnny so handsome I felt so proud;
'Squeeze me tighter, dear Johnny, let's dance till it's day':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
Shall I ever forget at the Grand Opera
When music poured out of each wonderful star?
Diamonds and pearls they hung dazzling down
Over each silver and golden silk gown;
'O John I'm in heaven,' I whispered to say:
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O but he was fair as a garden in flower,
As slender and tall as the great Eiffel Tower,
When the waltz throbbed out on the long promenade
O his eyes and his smile they went straight to my heart;
'O marry me, Johnny, I'll love and obey':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O last night I dreamed of you, Johnny, my lover,
You'd the sun on one arm and the moon on the other,
The sea it was blue and the grass it was green,
Every star rattled a round tambourine;
Ten thousand miles deep in a pit there I lay:
But you frowned like thunder and you went away.
15.2k
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Faces without name, faces without purpose
Faces that are just like my own.
I watch the decrepit, old man
Standing, waiting for a train to nowhere
Wandering through the rest of his days
Like every second
Is his
Last.
The children playing there don’t know it yet.
Soon they will -- their weary mothers do.
Every day, growing older.
Every day, growing colder.
Every day, realizing our fate.
The tracks are wet from the cold,
Unfeeling rain.
The rain, which pours from the
Infinite sky,
[Of which we will all soon belong]
Floods the streets and earth
[Of which we will all soon belong]
The drops dismantle the delicate flowers surrounding us...
Petals
Drop
To
The
Ground
helpless.
Our days dwindle as such.
One day
We will all be these
Petals on a wet, black bough.
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 3:02 AM 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
Anorexia is not collar bones.
It is the smell rotting of flesh as you dismantle your body bit by bit.
Anorexia is not a thigh gap, it is your knees so weak they shake as you fall to the ground.
Anorexia is not self control. It is the feeling of utter hopelessness as your life tornados into a blizzard of nothingness.
Anorexia is not fashionable. It is your mother’s sobbing eyes as she sees her child dying
Anorexia is not 80 pounds. It is the weight of a thousand pulsing suns on your shoulders.
A thick black cloud in your mind, and rules spelled out like chains pulling you towards the ground.
No matter what measure of gravity that you have in this earth, it still hurts, it’s still real.
So to you 'pro anas' who so blindly say 'hunger hurts, but starving works' think before you act.
Suffering is an addiction, please do not harm yourself with this affliction.
- Emily Ward
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
I say music is my medicine,
But sometimes I get addicted to this Adderall adrenaline,
My mind has gone deeper than the abyss floor,
The irony between good intentions and bad decisions,
Get me out of this mental prison,
I don't want to take orders from a politician,
But if you take a minute to listen,
You'll understand this vision that you're missing.
I bleed ink from these veins like they root through my brain,
A tree of perfect symmetry that I could never tame,
Every branch a connection into a new frame,
Everything is synchronizing like a symphony,
An epiphany, finishing,
She must be the bridge between my Ying and Yang,
Negativity diminishing by positive energy
Reflecting off the sensory,
I stop and don't dismantle this handle of Jack Daniels,
As if it has my questions answered,
And as the sparrow sits upon the branch,
Synapses snap in instants with a plan,
Tracing a line that brings me to the sand,
And the island, the silence,
Sitting softly over the sea's sinus,
Puts me in a content setting, grand,
And when my body corrodes,
If my soul is up for purchase,
I'll remember the day when God and I had conversations in Churches.
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 12:01 AM UTC
I dismantle you little by little,
pick you apart piece by piece
as I edge you ever closer to the precipice.
Your curiosity is titillated
by the tantalizing nothings
I whisper to draw you near,
promises I never intend to keep.
I tease as we creep, and you have no clue
as to the depths of my nefarious intent
until the moment I lay my hands
on your chest
and push.
Your hands catch, grasp tightly.
So I lean forward and gift you
with one last kiss
before I stare into your eyes
as I peel them from the surface.
Laughter pours forth
as I witness your fall
from high above.
I turn and walk away,
my deceit complete.
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 4:48 PM UTC
Stereotypes manifesting always,
(Always)
Trying to form themselves from something once seen,
But not really believing in oneself,
I see ignorance,
I see arrogance,
I see the lack of hunger,
Observing such savage pride of life,
I run from it all into a previous state,
(Anonymity)
I've reached the heights of total in-completion,
I build walls of isolation upon myself,
I am the collateral default of widespread degradation,
I stand in the gap between teeth and consumption,
I am the breed conceived by prey and predator,
Widespread suspended animation: that is our future,
We've tried to replicate the human makeup with mechanical frames,
And the translation of electronic gates,
Yet this is a folly,
For staring at the mirrors of selected life in an artificial environment,
Numbs our lives with emulation and self delusion,
The days of nobility dismantle into fragments and sink to the bottom of the glass,
Never to be turned over again,
Scattered,
Living among remnants of a life once lived with some sort of intensity,
Now smoldered in a quite ferocity of anger beneath the surface,
(Quiet tremors coming in flames)
Because we don't live our dreams,
We stand in the shadows of ruins,
We are afraid of the future,
We are afraid of the past,
Where does that leave us?
Leave me?
I stand on the edge of The Void
I'm holding myself hostage in the self sabotage entourage of the usual suspects,
Our friends, our families,
Disconnected with all intentions of coming together,
Because they die in front of their screens,
Not really living,
Right?
Light pollution massacre...
We'll fall like stars
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
She is that girl
Who hates her reflection
Cause she despise
Her damaged pieces
She is that girl
Who loves with devotion
And gladly dismantle
Herself for you
She is that girl
Who waits for you
To turn your heart and see
That girl is me
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 6:41 AM UTC
Just as a boy grows into teenager,
he is bound, to one day, grow into man.
I think it's when he is just five years old,
he becomes a demolition fan.
At that juncture, it's all about the tools.
To dismantle what works perfectly well.
They may begin plastic at the start,
but it triggers something in their cells.
A teenager will start with something small,
a lawnmower, dirt bike, then on to cars.
Then as he ages and gains life experience,
the quest for tools is written in the stars.
It starts with a simple set of wrenches.
Then moves on to socket sets and ratchet.
Not just ASE, they need metric as well.
A tool store is a veritable banquet.
Metal worker, wood crafter, mechanic,
Plumber a welder and electrician.
Wrapped up in a testosterone package,
needing a new tool for the next mission.
Watch as his eye light, when reaching for a tool,
that's new to the market, sitting on display.
It's no longer about simple fun in an old cardboard box.
It will be tools from now till his dying day.
Nov 12, 2010
Nov 12, 2010 at 3:27 PM UTC
I was used to the abuse, used to the towers
I was used to being used, used to your power
it makes me sad looking back, I was in the present accepting presents
while you were hiding in the black, keeping secrets, turning your back
on me and everything I offered, I thought you were better than you were
guess it's my first mistake to think you wouldn’t put me up at the stake
watch my ivory skin be engulfed in flames
watch your baby burn away
if it means that you can survive by the skin of your teeth
tried to run and run with my tired feet
tried to undo all you have done to me
tried to keep the door open in case you came running back to me
I like broken birds, I like empty words
I like chess pieces, I like idealistic worlds
you fit my trauma like a glove, manipulation to get my love
but you had another, arguably better
older, more secure, not a country over
but in turn, you made me feel insecure
a tragic mess continuing to dismantle
unravel like ribbons, uncovered the truth due to visions
I received, the seeds I reaped
protection is given to me by deities
I am not one for fighting but refuse to wave the white flag
you shot me and now I must burn down your creations in a red flash
every web of lies, web of secrets
I set ablaze and sit back like the grim reaper
Jan 13, 2022
Jan 13, 2022 at 11:49 AM UTC
skipping rocks and skipping meals
magazines are teaching her to eat less, no matter how she feels
models on instagram, tiktok, youtube, and twitter
setting unrealistic expectations with their photoshop and glitter
in size two jeans, hoping to squeeze into ones
it looks like she's living the dream, but in reality, it's not a good one
1000 calories or less, isn't it nice?
she's living in an eating disorder nightmare disguised as paradise
she's losing weight, but not feeling as though she's won
she doesn't want this anymore, when will this be done?
she's dropping pounds, but feeling so shattered
compliments left and right, but it's hard to feel flattered
she's eating nothing at lunch until she's too light to function
the cafeteria starts to feel like a dungeon
feeling sick when she eats "too much"
kneeling in the bathroom using the toilet as a crutch
and then she overcompensates with exercise
when will the people around her start to hear her cries?
things are out of control, it's becoming too much for her to handle
her world feels as though it's starting to dismantle
her mental & physical health is deteriorating as she loses the weight
when will they see what it's doing to her? hopefully before it's too late
Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 7:56 PM UTC
"She did the laundry
in the mirror of me
I saw myself in
the mirror and disagreed
with the smell,
The thought of you
was beautiful,
but I was wrong,
and a feeling of discontent
-ment
came over me,"
Misspellings
Mispronunciations
An unconquerable world
of big money
I parted ways with the large
and saw another even larger world,
One that was intelligent and reads
the Wall Street Journal, listens to NPR,
and says "wow" at the sound of hearing
one million dollars, or upon hearing about
San Francisco start-ups,
or Silicon Valley.
Or the opposite, in some ways, but still very
similar to - Virginia Woolf.
whose book on feminism
which I'm unable to explain fully other than
to say that she suggests
that women only need
a bedroom, money, clothes, etc.,
or rather, less than etc.
in that, they need little, but only the bare supplies.
That they should be able to supply themselves with what they need
for when their husband, which, you know, is not required, in her eyes,
for when he separates from her
and leaves her 'in the dust,' alone without anything,
perhaps only with a child, or in another instance, estate-less,
with only a white dress, really more of kitchen-robe than anything else;
like Virginia Woolf says, we should really try and dismantle the patriarchy
that we write and tell about. Reader, what do you after reading a story, article, or book on radical or moderate feminism say? The boys, like me, who will tell, or, try to tell their perspective of the book and say to the closest person around them, "I just read a great book by Virginia Woolf, she brings to mind an image of a university with white buildings and ends of roofs of university buildings leading along to the the main hall of architecture buildings, with sidewalks pristine and underneath people walking in their sweaters, collegiate, and later to make their way to art history classes in the fall evening. So, like Virginia Woolf, who makes you ask why you're not at the Parthenon, but instead are inside of your house, in a city that you don't want to be in, at a hospital, in your apartment, or surrounded by whoever, she nevertheless gives you have a feeling of longing-ness and a strong emotion of want. Virginia Woolf when will we go to Greece together? What do you know about Athens and classical architecture, I nearly beg you.
December 30th 2018 7:11am
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 9:51 PM UTC
She lives in a cage, in the shed, at the bottom of a garden
Her master comes, twice daily, with food and water
She lives for him, a servant to his psyche
She has no power, slave on her knees in chains
Its simple pleasure for leisure, to serve him is to be free
Minutes in the sunshine, phallus in furs
- and a collar as a symbol of respect
Music for ******* Performance in the house
She lays down and tastes the whip on bare cheek
Obedience is taught through willing submission
Gorean affectations, willing desire and the natural order
One's journey into identity, a thrilling concept at first munch
- God will speak in good time
To dismantle social construct in a kingdom of one
Liberation at the hands of a master in leather
- and whips outstretched
Through drear smokescreens, transformation and feminisation
Slave-girl, man-child, longing for acceptance and protection
Early morn, teary-eyed sunshine creeps through a crack
Blonde wigged, bearded man wipes mascara clean away
Only two more months, every day she will be beat,
- and the sissification of the master's slave will then be complete
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 3:13 PM UTC
Submission upwards towards the void of eternal blessings in disguise
The angel behind the leather mask
Just wants us to feel out the sacred nature of our transgressions
Just vibrations stuttering along to a heartbeat
Liberation lashes
Tearing a hole in the sky
Teasing out the idea of turning you on
You were already lit up
Reflecting the Sun
Igniting fire to my *****
Illumination everything
switch
You came in the dark and left marks
Bruising my ego to dismantle itself
Dreams manifested
You held me down like sleep paralysis
Demanding my soul to sacrifice itself to the Moon
Watching with pleasure
You were the shadows in my room
Dancing the divine candlelight
A cuckold of my imagination
as I took it lying down
This is worship
This is tribute
3 cheers
3 chants
3 times
Go down
Descend on me
Goddess archetype
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
Borrowed words: all to describe
Stolen moments, rented time.
Diction that I now transcribe.
A story that's not wholly mine.
In my bed I sleep; I dream.
Surrounded by walls that seem
Adequate to serve my needs.
But these walls weren't built for me.
The walls have ears--the ceiling, eyes.
Speak through our tongues--our own demise.
Nowhere is there now to hide,
For I (and you) am a loyal spy.
Woven into fabric rendered
To fulfill some view of splendor.
But no one here can remember
Why we stitch torn cloth together.
Too short, too tall, too weak to handle;
Must reinforce to insure it's ample.
But how can I shatter what is fragile
If I am what I wish to dismantle?
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 3:59 PM UTC
The aftermath of betrayal
Those upon a corrupted throne shall witness my reign of anger
Though not stereotypical
My wrath with come a little bit stranger
Fury with grasp my fingers and lips
And I will dismantle their establishment using cunning as speartips
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 8:55 AM UTC
Lamenting lost love
hidden behind harmonies,
(synonymous to symphony)
resonates absently.
Like making love
to a stranger.
Like you make love
to me.
Void of all passion,
like revenge of apathy.
Apathetic entirely,
the emptiness that fuels you
emphasizes decrees.
Standard-less standards
validate your need
to dismantle the mantled,
and devour the diseased,
to command and to seize,
to exploit the exploited,
and explore every scene—
every pelvis, and every scream.
How did I fall for such a—
loveless being?
Better yet,
How do I disintegrate re-memories,
Or abolish aplitic fallacies,
and survive soullessly?
(How must I do these things!?)
Here I plead
surrounded, unattentively,
summoning recognition
for the being
whom resides in me.
Resurrecting old wounds,
(chore almost seems daily)
almost seems like it’s alive,
like maybe one day
it might save me.
More likely, one day
it will concave me.
But without knowledge
there is no upset.
And no upset means
no you and me.
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 9:03 PM UTC
In the office
The vent is hissing and spitting
I'm bored out of my ******* mind
I wore a mesh shirt to school
You can see my stomach
But my legs
*******
arms
etc
are covered
really the only offense is
my belly button
I refuse to cover up my natural
normal
body parts
Its not right
Or fair
its completely unreasonable
But the administration needs something to stroke its ego ***** right?
But I refuse to give hand jobs
To a completely corrupt education system
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
This branch, this life, the tongue to taste
the bitter of the pinecones. Best
to request permission for my heart to skip a beat,
dare me in February from here to west.
Woodstove fire - ash and flying ambers -
dries the musty grain of cedar essence.
Dancing smoked perfume is rising
Slowly - an inverted lava river.
Its sharp soft teeth the alphabet dismantle
back-taking life to its primordial matter
as history became the final institution.
Why did the idol have to burn, its thorns devoured,
Knotty eyes of wood in mind imprinted -
starry firmament on my sub-conscious?
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 11:03 AM UTC
I dismantle you little by little,
pick you apart piece by piece
as I edge you ever closer to the precipice.
Your curiosity is titillated
by the tantalizing nothings
I whisper to draw you near,
promises I never intend to keep.
I tease as we creep, and you have no clue
as to the depths of my nefarious intent
until the moment I lay my hands
on your chest
and push.
Your hands catch, grasp tightly.
So I lean forward and gift you
with one last kiss
before I stare into your eyes
as I peel them from the surface.
Laughter pours forth
as I witness your fall
from high above.
I turn and walk away,
my deceit complete.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC
A man's ego is a thick wall
Covering his vulnerable soul,
Protects him from shivering
From the outside cold.
It is his coach, and his captain
As well as his life's good coach,
Protecting the his exteriors
From his fragility he never boasts.
As soft as the clouds wandering
Through the dust of the city life,
Same as the careful veins
Embedded in a womans' soft heart.
Snugged in his vicious tongue
With every word in his gauntlet
Warming his soul away
From any dark and cold blankets.
Like diamonds you try to dismantle
And see him break at once,
As he snaps to put the pieces back
But the cracks can't be undone.
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 10:53 AM UTC
#
You are in there, I am certain of it--
Behind the gear's finely-honed,
precision fit gear..
in to gear
in to gear
into gear..
And I wonder.. do you want out?
The machine on the outside, self-repairs
Any attempt towards dismantle from
the external, is futile..
But the internal, beautiful girl..
"I don't know what you mean, about 'machine'"
She is apprehensive, those beautiful
brown eyes, looking up at me..
"Look down, sweet girl"
Her thighs, fully parted, as I slide
in to her.. those amazing hips,
moving so perfectly with mine, extracting..
Milking from me, my warm pulsing *****
a deeply-penetrating lubricant, pulsed
deeply into the machine
As if to lubricate its gears..
As if..
But penetrating so deeply, as to now
permeate the insides of the
mechanization's innerworkings--
turning from lubricant, to that
of a corrosive nature..
Fully coating now, the inner you..
as it turns back now, into that
of a healing balm
Bringing to you a moment of Light
and internal clarity--
long enough for you to see
That the machine is made vulnerable
by the ever-changing qualities of
Love that found its way through
As the awakened parts within you, for the
first time.. understand
the machine's love-blocking, nature
And you begin to choose, mid-orgasm
the machine's dismantle, from the inside--
*'Little by little..
Line, upon line..
Block, upon block..
Precept, upon precept..'*
Until we have the chance, once again..
to do it all again
#
Aug 15, 2021
Aug 15, 2021 at 11:38 AM UTC
In India, we need feminism
Because, it stands for equality
Before you start losing your calm
Please allow me to clarify
Feminism means not, women dominating men
It means equal rights for both men and women
And of course, women empowerment
Now, let me be blunt
India is not and has never been a great place for women
Our society enables male **********
In almost every sphere of life
Which ends up creating a lot of strife
It is time to change all of that
Hence, is feminism so important
Because, women need to find their voice
And for that, they must have a choice
To do what they desire
Without invoking the society's ire
So, it is time to dismantle our Brahminical patriarchy
Only then, can we really reform our society
Because, gender and caste go hand-in-hand
We cannot destroy gender inequality with a magic wand
It is necessary to strike at its very root
Which, essentially, is caste
For instance, why do so many rapes happen?
Because, they enable upper caste male **********
****** harassment and **** reinforce the caste structure
Thus, does the Manusmriti continue to influence gender
And proactively hinder women empowerment
Again, this is why feminism is so important
But it also needs to be intersectional
And include women at all levels
Of our wretched caste hierarchy
In order to achieve gender equality
It is necessary for Brahmin and Savarna women to take a pause
And allow Bahujan women to make uniformed choices for themselves
Instead of dictating terms to them all the time
Also, men need to be part of feminism
After all, inclusiveness is the very core of feminism
It transcends gender, *** race, religion and caste
Was not Babasaheb Dr. B.R. Ambedkar one of India's greatest feminists?
It is thanks to this beautiful soul
That, at least in theory, are men and women equal
As far as our country is concerned
Therefore, feminism is something we greatly need
But it can be successful only when it includes everyone
Thus, in order to make India a much safer place for women
Everybody must adopt feminism
Because, it is equivalent to humanism!
Jai Bhim!!
Oct 14, 2024
Oct 14, 2024 at 12:18 AM UTC
***** hands
With rust and dirt;
Hard work
Is my child play
With nuts,
Screws and bolts;
Toiled fingers
They dismantle
They repair.
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
Talking to my GoPro as if it were you
Current truths
Diminish the whirling blues
inside my head where you don’t have a clue
out the zoo with my emotions
In the beginning eased it with some sleep
Because I couldn’t see the reasons for my grief
Out the shadows and the light is brief
What to think?
What to know?
The tension is rigorous
Kept inside a pin
Let it sit and sizzle until it’s smoke
Open the vents, and let it go
To seize a chance for peace
Dismantle the layers of myself
Find you in a strip
A memory I’ll always love
My love just don’t lose grip
But to love is to see you free
A peak I couldn’t see
Relief indeed
Let it bleed
Let it bleed
Let it bleed
Consume the dooms
Swallow the distrust
The other side of the moon
The ending will come soon
Sitting in my room
About to make some chicken....
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 11:10 PM UTC