"disorient" poems
I was young when my brother had an accident
By a rushing car appeared in an incident
Eyes in Tears thought of just a moment
Our life changed oh such a disorient
Forget all our differences and arguments
We prayed for days asked for lenience
Do we have a goal in life except to be pleasant?
Time goes by as we are inadvertent
In shock we find ourselves always hesitant
Unable to decide in which must be decisiveness
Wonder why our mind is mostly turbulence
How do we decide the path of correctness?
Just turn your head around and prepare for afterlife
Instead of wasting time in the temporal life
Ask God for continuous Blessing
As you’ll never know who is messing
Always remember you are the one whom is living
It’s in your hands and always your decision
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 5:16 AM UTC
in the grass lingering
subtle. new life, seeks.
life over distractions
will you buy attentions? for me?
i could try and persuade interjections
to interject anomalies. false.
in decay, blooming
death. closer than your mother.
unaware of the scythe
speechless.
despite selection
phrasing perpetually
simply put, arrogance
tests my limits. carefully.
picking out life from death
a masterful game. monotonous.
does the truth betray your senses?
do your eyes smell?
deliverance. ignorance for innocents.
there are millions. billions.
unstoppable.
watch my back. we’ll both die.
a rip in sound. feel the throat churn.
erratic vibrations disorient the world
they cannot understand us.
poisoned perception of the native mind
in struggle. in war.
recovering and failing the same.
thieving the motions. motionless.
all to achieve deplorable fame
dreadful.
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 7:58 PM UTC
Disorient me
Dizzy, deep beneath the sheets
You breathe in all my hushed, sharp shudders
Crimson colored
but you don't mind
Your soft lips tease my blushing neck
as strong arms pin me down
Surround me, drown me
Make me, break me
Hold me, hurt me
Eat me, beat me
until I plead you to stop
And then beg you for more
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 11:20 AM UTC
Silhouettes in moonlit mazes
your tears are complex superstructures.
Superclusters wrinkle I, negative energy,
tunneling through chasms forbidden;
you and I float.
Comes a sound, depth charged sleeper cell,
a bloop, a mystery, an unsweep,
a whistle, a Julia, a train, a slow down.
Heard by 350,000 zombies.
You and I sleep.
A child derails a train, safe to say,
that the world has its trapdoors.
Its a mystery, they say, but what do they know?
About us and our death.
You and I disorient.
Your two ******* hide a heart,
A mother board center of circulation.
Your body’s iterative delusion
Graces mine. And dissolves me.
You and I disintegrate.
We need to hack the heart,
With absurdity and farce and slipstream:
Into subspecies, we, simians,
We are grateful, gratified.
You and I evaporate
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 12:22 AM UTC
oh, to self-soothe like a wounded fawn. the hours are unmoving. the lights disorient. the city collapses on top of my head.
this world is too impatient with bewildered hearts like mine.
Feb 24, 2022
Feb 24, 2022 at 12:54 AM UTC
I sat on a rock and stared
At her eyes the color of ink
Wondering what she’s seen
When she is ruffled by something
It is literal
A duck’s feathers are easily ruffled
But that is a minor problem
When we are ruffled by life
It can disorient us for months
Sometimes years
Sometimes a lifetime
I wonder what her life has been filled with
She swims and she dives.
She mates to reproduce, never to love and cherish her mate eternally.
The way (some) humans do. Or at least should.
She never suffers emotional trauma.
It would be so much simpler to be a duck.
No monetary worries
No emotional worries
No grudges
Only the concern for survival
I bet she’s never cried
And I have so, so many times.
She spreads her wings and takes flight.
The way I often wish I could.
To escape situations I don’t like.
Just flying away.
Her beautiful russet wings
But I wasn’t born a duck.
I was born a human.
And I can’t spread my wings and fly away.
And somehow
I’m glad.
I’m glad I can hurt
And I can feel
And I can love
And be broken
My main concern is not my own survival
Because I am not a duck
And I am not a coward
And even if I can suffer
What a duck would never have to endure
I can have forever from someone else
And I can become something
An artist
A writer
A dancer
A poet
An inspiration
A lover
A mother
A father
Okay no not a father
But I can make something out of myself
And the duck will always be
Well, a duck.
Also, ducks are NOT YELLOW.
…I needed to express that.
Rawr.
Please repost if you are happy to be human. Unless you are not a human. And if you are not a human, then I am kind of scared. Or if you just feel like reposting. Then you go ahead and do that. Have fun with it. :) woahifoundagrape!
Please comment! I love to read interpretations of my work!
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 2:15 PM UTC
You send your words,
Directed to my ears.
My eyes they read,
Somehow they fear.
I imagine the others;
how they'd react.
I wish not to retalliate.
If I can forgive you,
I should forgive myself.
That agony, directed:
in reverse: through reflections:
of infinity mirrors: with refractions:
reverberated light: quantum waves:
perpetual motion: unviolated entropy:
Let me hold that forgiveness,
Let me offer it to myself,
I want to take the hostia,
The sacrificial bread,
The holy communion.
Chanel divine grace
Into my inner being.
Give me utmost peace.
Allow me such union,
I will consume from the chalice.
spilled liquidity: ripples in water:
splashing kineticism: frequency oscillation:
oceanic dispersion: moistened vibration
wettened wavelengths: aquatic repetition:
Will it not dilute?
Will this spirit stay mine?
Will it not disorient?
Will this wisdom remain?
Will it not expire?
Will this solemnity be?
Give me the strength,
I implore my higher self
If it is to exist
That is.
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 6:56 AM UTC
There are two worlds where one cannot escape
They’re captivating just like illusions.
They disorient one as they take shape,
They seize your mind through subtle intrusions.
In one world your reality grows numb,
Your sanity dies as light expires.
Your fear emerges as the monsters come.
To wreak havoc is a Nightmare’s desire.
In another, faeries dance with the stars;
They welcome you like the moon does the night.
This mystical dreamland is quite bizarre,
Where magical creatures are drunk with delight.
Nightmares consume the dreamer’s sanity,
Daydreams conceive the dreamer’s fantasy.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 8:40 PM UTC
I sang to you, my son, until I ran out of breath
And sang to you again as I gave you to death.
I've been stuck in house arrest
Because I've given you to death.
I declare my degree in your grief
But I sing to you...
"I-I-I have never lo-o-oved someone,
the wa-ay I love you-u-u"
A lament for your bending brain descent
With energy so pure, unsure and in the moment
With disorient movement on legs bent
Or were they wings?
It was hard to tell on the descent.
Yet, something eternal was created
At your birth and at your death
Your heart was too big for your chest
We wept together over it,
Over your death,
As there was no preparation for the separation
Your rotation of cognation
Gives formation to an ideation if...
You... You ever were
Or I... I ever was?
Disposessed words in the world we'd imagined
Obtained and ingrained love in our intestines
Our black will eventually turn to grey
The grey will one day go away
Just as blood dries and becomes sparks
It parks inside eyes to become stars
And the love we lasted long enough to receive
Becomes songs in energy I sing
From my throat
From my hand to your coat, I bathe you
I soak you with my love... a baptismal
... like never before and ...
As you drown under, you wonder
If you... You ever were
Or I... I ever was.
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 5:05 PM UTC
Boys (all of them) are blank (and impossible to read (unless you know Braille (because touch is the only thing they respond to))) when mania strikes, step back. The words come flying off pages and peeling off the most beautiful greasy hair (catch yourself here or you'll regret it)(catch yourself here or you'll send away your pride via text message). Timing will always be off (and always your fault). Boys (all of them) smell like cigarettes and pine needles (even if they don't smoke (especially if they do)). Boys (all of them (all of them)) are delicious and contagious and a few hop steps (up or down) from a puppy (moderate hop steps). They'll disorient you with a maze of charm and a good bit of ignorance (until they don't buy your coffee (not that you wanted them to (but an offer would be nice (it's just polite)) because it might break your heart). (You might be overreacting though, so don't blame it all on them (all of them). (but it's your struggle (theirs is to resist your perfume and dainty ankles (or whatever they like (they've never told me))) to be frustrated and in awe all at once). Tell me (boys) is it torture (to be (correct be verb) so hyper aware(while we're on the topic I should remind you (all of them) this isn't spiteful (it's regret))? To be your own defeat? I've never felt this way (it's a matter of contradistinction). Cocky ******** (all of them).
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 12:47 PM UTC
Fumbling through a wilderness of pain
Lost in a desert of doubt
Desolate in a winter of anxiety
Buried in a coffin of maladies
Alone in a city full of people
Time and time again hearing whispers of doubt
Negative opinions and false truths
That I am nothing
That I will become nothing
Then die with nothing and no one
For out of the dust of the ground I came
And to it, I will return
For all things under the sun are meaningless
And in the end, toil means nothing except death
For this life is a lost cause
Then the winds of the wilderness increase
And the disorient of the desert intensifies
The death and terror of the winter do not relent
This capsule of corpses latches shut, trapping me inside
And the people of the city war against me
My hands tremble with the fears of my heart
My heart aches with the troubles of my soul
And my head pains with the false-knowledge I know
For I am filled with lies upon lies upon lies
And how might I ever know truth in the midst of such treachery?
It is then, in the midst of my hell
When the weight of this life has all but crushed me
And I am about to give up and die
About to accept these lies I've been fed
But then, the Lord speaks to me
I hear the voice of a heavenly nature, and it says;
‘Son, be still, and know that I am God’
Then, like a miracle
My trembling hands and unsteady heart are cured, and I'm stilled
For He has always been God, and has never left my side
And to the day I die, and even beyond, He never will
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
I'd like a thunderstorm
With lighting and pounding rain.
A storm so fierce
It needs to take
A whole town’s electricity
To fuel its fury.
The lightning should be bright enough to stun the blind.
The thunder should be loud enough to disorient minds.
Not forever but long enough.
Not forever, but just long enough.
The rain should make the windows tremble.
A storm you can see, hear, and feel.
It will make
every
sense
shake.
Consume. It will consume.
Time, space, energy.
And we will realize that the storm is worse than our problems.
Honey, this storm is too loud to fight over.
And just like that, peace.
We are happiest when we play the victim.
And now we are no longer the monster.
The home is now safe.
The house… Not so much.
But it is a small sacrifice.
This is what I want.
Mother Nature, make it happen.
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 1:28 AM UTC
my sweet stormtrooper queen
pure white pristene
layin' it down
hot and mean
my sweet stormtrooper queen
hyperspace into my brain
take me over
i can't complain
my sweet stormtrooper queen
gotta find the droids
watch out for the dark one
try to avoid
my sweet stormtrooper queen
lookin' for the stolen plans
in a silver and blue garbage can
my sweet stormtrooper queen
scream in my face
disorient
gimme your sickness
until i'm spent
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 1:21 AM UTC
Hand me another,
I say, 'Til my heart
Numbs and my mind
Forgets all its reason.
Actions exaggerate.
Unfamiliar thoughts
Assail. Mists of haze
Rouse my shaken courage.
I'll speak my heart
Whilst truth still
Hangs, pulled above
Clouds of disorient
Two are one and
One are two, My
Lips utter only
Dead words, songs
Of broken chords
Regret, nostalgia,
Emotions entwined
Grant me one memory,
Of how I can get home.
Muddy lights, dim
My eyes please
Swaying earth
Lead the way back.
Jul 20, 2011
Jul 20, 2011 at 7:26 PM UTC
*Fall in the Ocean, don't fall in love
you may forget how drowning felt like
but you simply can't ignore the ache of
a cracked heart or its shards decorating the floor
sharp pieces that you'll step on and wounds reopen
pieces which will clatter from deep within
to echo the despair especially when you're beyond repair
jump off a cliff and fracture, broken bones heal
fractured Hearts seldom truly find healing,it's chilling
when you place support about it but nothing changes
and the more you organise your splintered heart
the further apart it crumbles and breaks apart
fall in Hell, the devils and monsters can be exorcised
but the monsters of a dead romance never leave
they taunt and haunt with voices whispering in your head
and drug you through a living Hell that's eternal
fall in acid, not a single piece of you'll be left behind
love'll rip and have your pieces wandering blind
fall in an abyss or the darkest deepest pit
someone might find you,you'll wash off the ****
but Love'll rob your sanity for it's mind impairing
it'll take away your radars, disorient your bearing
fall from the sky, your entire existence will splatter
falling in love will deny you your esteem and have you stutter
fall off a bicycle, you'll get up,dust yourself and ride
in love you'll live your life like you've died
climb one and jump, there's less pain falling off a tree
unlike the fantasy of love that chains and never sets you free
fall in the Sea, the sharks'll leave nothing for the world to see
love will bewilder you through an endless cyclonic ecstasy
it's worse compared to being once and for all torn by jaws
which takes you to oblivion where lives no feeling of loss
fall for anything else, fall for drugs and addiction
love is a blade that'll never cease making its incision
fall for wines and whiskeys,or any adulterated concoction
my broken heart thinks all but falling in love a far better decision
when you're out there searching for whatever you deserve
embrace all else your heart desires, all else but love*
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 3:31 AM UTC
I once lived in a town where everyone was me. I was everyone.
Everyone spoke words I thought of,
Read the same words,
believed in the same gods,
wore the same clothes,
and loved everything we differed in.
I now live in a town where I am no one. No one is me.
I have not heard a word of the languages they speak,
I do not know the names for what they wear on their feet,
or how to stand on their soil,
I have come to cease existing.
I have become everyone else,
I was so used to it being the other way around.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
Skeptical views disorient the pleasure of not understanding
Not understanding the viewpoint right in front of you
Truth or misconceptions will unfold if you endorse the information
Just saying...
Brian Hill - 2020 # 30
Jan 30, 2020
Jan 30, 2020 at 10:29 AM UTC
lucid disorient, waking at dusk—
you can leave if you must,
but don't rush it.
my polished exterior, hiding a husk,
looks like silk to the touch,
so don't touch it.
lazing away
through both halves of the day,
I'd've lain in your aura
accordant.
but off you must go
so I won't let you know
that each moment,
your absence is torment.
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 2:10 AM UTC
Guarded tiles bar creation's codeine laced butchery,
Fostering at-arms engrossed with fictitious prospects of eternity,
Fearing the necrotising bodies plastered with senseless agony,
Psychologically detrimental for there is no withdraw from insanity.
But exodus is inevitable within the institution of bereavement,
Mint frame spurn the cracked Psyche of the drafted disorient,
Forcing jittered terror in lieu of beholden for this malcontent,
Thrusting the mortal from snug bulwarks into a morbid accent.
Real dread torrent the battering heart before it spill over,
Clotted plasma fling and flood the metal enclosure,
All breath was taken by the creator’s exposure,
For only it dominates the grand tour.
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 11:36 AM UTC
Mom I’m home,
Guess what I learned in class today?
I learned what rooms are safest for hiding.
I learned what it sounds like to hear my classmates scream.
I learned what it looks like when the bodies of my friends fall
like pretend soldiers that were never meant for a real war.
Mom, today I learned what war looks like,
because now it looks like our schools.
We wear bulletproof backpacks and carry
textbooks over our heads.
Our base is rigged with smoke bombs to
disorient our enemies and
little black boxes to let them know when we are safe.
Mom, today I learned the meaning of fear.
It means never seeing you again, or Dad.
It means sending texts in between clutching other people’s hands
as we all try to keep quiet as we quiver in the closets.
It means not knowing if the sounds outside the door are
another tortured orphan, another lone wolf,
or the sounds of our saviors coming to bring us home.
Mom, today I learned that I must fight.
I must fight for the future that I want to see.
I must fight for my friends, for other kids,
and for our right to live.
I must fight for Alyssa,
for Scott,
for Martin,
for Nicholas, Aaron, and Jaime.
I must fight for Peter,
for Joaquin,
for Cara, Gina, Luke, and Alaina.
I must fight for Meadow,
for Helena,
Alex, Carmen, Chris,
and all of the other students that won’t be coming home from school.
WE must fight for Parkland, for Sandy Hook, for Columbine, for Marshall County,
and all of the other schools that turned into historical battlegrounds.
Because this is history.
We are all actors if we continue to pretend that everything is okay.
We are all actors if we continue to think that anyone with a gun license
should be able to purchase an assault rifle,
though they continue use it on kids who haven’t even gotten their driver’s licenses yet.
Those of us here today, we are actors because we are fighting for what is right,
we are fighting to have our voices heard and our demands met.
But they are the ones who are acting.
They act like we are to blame for our own murders.
They act like the solution isn’t right in front of them.
They act like school shootings can be fixed with more guns.
No more.
No more guns in our schools.
No more wondering if we’ll make it off campus today.
No more hoping that the world won’t forget their names.
No more fearing for our lives in a place that should be dedicated to educating us,
to bettering us, and to connecting us.
No more.
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 11:35 PM UTC
Tell me sweet lies. I want to get lost in your thoughts.
I want to let your emotions wash over me.
Because I have feelings for you, of which I am scared. I am only a fool for you.
Tell me pretty lies, say that you love me. Lie if you must, because I am only a fool for you.
I want to get lost in your love. Because my feeling for you disorient me. They nourish and suffocate me. You're the only thing I think about, and I act like I don't even care. Tell me your pretty lies, and tell me again that you love me.
I want to believe your lies, let me drift into the night believing. I am only a fool for you.
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
MY TESTAMENT 2
Today as a bird, I bath with the rays of the sun
And as I fly, I speak my thoughts out loud to the sky
Sending messages to my past and those that dwell in It
That Depression is Oppression,
Defined by self-hate
Which seals its prisoner’s fate
Stabs and jabs to see you bleed
Holds man captive and throws out the key
Makes man walk on abandoned beaches
And know the death of places
It makes you walk pass cabins,
Cabins, that holds memories of past your lovers
It makes you live your past in the present
And disorient your future.
It makes you taste the city of joy in you
But feel the cities of grief
Depression are memories fighting to stay alive
It is a woman crying into herself
They are footprints
Leading to a map pf hopeless kingdom.
KEMBA MARK
2017.
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 6:01 AM UTC
Thoughts of simple days bring torment
.Remember being a kid and enjoyment
.Appalling how its now all irrelevant
.Peel back the truth and circumvent
.Pleased to be here, but discontent
.Endure a life stripped of consent
.Delusions of grandeur disorient
.Its easy to be deviant
.Not so much benevolent
.Mediate to avoid feeling desolate
.Yesterdays gone, thats a definite
.More days pass, feel more desperate
.Implored how you became insolent
.Never again to feel beguilement
Dwelling in past, brings only lament
-Ajm
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 6:36 PM UTC