"dispensable" poems
He smiled at me and said 'here, take this'
It was a happy little pill of his and it would feel bliss
I smiled and gave him a kiss saying, 'thank you baby'
But what happened next forever will drive me crazy
Next thing you know I was spinning in my head
Then he wanted to bring me to a bed
His friends walked in and wanted more
So they all called me a ***** little *****
My body was numb and I couldn’t move
I let out a scream but they didn’t approve
Everything went black but then again I woke
But to them it was nothing but a funny little joke
They locked me inside of a walk in closet
So if there was a stir I sure wouldn’t cause it
I blacked out again and woke in a different place
Treating me as if my soul were missing and my body were a case
Still I was unable to move nor speak
But he still said he loved me and kissed me on the cheek
I counted five inhumane beings on top of me moaning
One was even playfully groaning
I was disgusted and wanted it to end
But I knew that after this my mind would never mend
By now it would have been a little past three in the morning
Earlier I should have taken that adorable face as a warning
When they realized I was sobering up
They had an alibi saying they’d call this a hookup
When I could finally move my mouth again
I realized what had happened and felt heavy chest pain
They heard that I was muttering words that were incomprehensible
They saw me as nothing more than a body and that I was dispensable
They came up with a plan to hide my body in a ditch
I even heard one say, 'she deserved it, what a stupid bitch'
I hit my head when they threw me on the ground
I only saw black in front of me and around
I woke up to a woman asking if I were okay
I only said one phrase and it was that 'I was betrayed'
What happened after that is irrelevant at best
All I will say is that I was nothing but stressed
This is my story and it happened two years ago today
Nailing an image in my mind that I was a targeted prey
I know now that I hold so much more worth
And I love myself more than anything on this Earth
Just know that these words have come straight from my heart
No matter how vile and disgusting this memory is, I can never restart
So I tried to make it a poem so it seems like some kind of art.
h.m.w
Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 5:57 PM UTC
Contemplation for days and hours
As all the beautiful flowers devour their worst enemy
Trying to defend me, no decency cause I tell myself I’m horrible
Gravity slams me to the floorboard of a moving car
Let me go, let me breathe
My reality deceives the truth that you and I were once meant to be
I overlook, my eyes force me not to see
All the pain, all the lies
**Just **** you**
I despise you and your ******** *** ways
And I’m still sitting here in this haze
Of my sweet mary jane, that takes away the pain
Because she actually gives a **** about what I have to say
And she don’t question me
She smooths the depression out of me
There’s not a doubt in me that I won’t see better days
You’re in the past
There’s no way we would have been able to last
But I be me, I do me
I don’t give a **** about what your eyes want me to see
They see what they want to see and I be what I want to be
I laugh at your failure to attempt to change me
I’m invincible, not dispensable
You can’t just use me, I’m insensible
Good luck finding someone as valuable as me
There’s no next time, there’s no meant to be
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 5:11 PM UTC
When we think about the choices in our lives
When we fight and we bicker and become bitter
When we think there is only power or powerlessness
If we can realize that there is power and powerlessness
Then haven't we began to acquire consciousness
In that instance haven't we began the process of choice
That there is those who have not have given birth to this consciousness
To those who have only lived powerlessness
And know nothing else
Haven't you owed them part of your consciousness
That you have ceased to be one of them
Or your mere power has denied one of them
That there is no choice for them
Because they haven't birthed that consciousness
And if you choose power they'll remain powerless
Because within you there is no loyalty, right?
It is a choice predicated by an erroneous concept of self-preservation
It is a treacherous dichotomy; doesn't make sense
This is not an indictment of your desire not to suffer
Because surely to hold power would cease your suffering
But it is this type of power that thrives on the proliferation of powerlessness
This conceptual understanding of what it means to have power
That is not what we've come learn, but readily ascribe to
That a mind and body can cultivate power
That can be harvested, shared, communal
For the sole purpose of the survival of the other, not the self
That that can survive in this world is impossible
Its antithetical to the modes of production
In which our societies operate and thrive
How can workers begin to derive power from their collective efforts
How can workers' purchasing power equal the power of the production of their labor
How can any community in any corner of the world escape
The misanthropic missions of first world free trade capitalism
When will we reclaim our escaping humanity
When will we cease to keep feeding the system with our minds, our bodies, our labor
How much longer can we become fodder, scraps, waste feeding the machine
And don't think that you are safe when you have made it
When you have entered the circle of dominance
Because it is then when you will loose your humanity or die
It is at that apex of power that your presence becomes
Just as dispensable as that of the powerless
Because to maintain that circle of dominance
Requires a total conversion to misanthropy
The rigor with which your power will be required
To keep proliferating powerlessness will give no break
And when you become useless, it will replace you
So that we must realize that the modes of production
That we allow to exploit us
In powerlessness, or the semblance of power
Can never safeguard our humanity
How much further will we allow power to be concentrated
So that soon we ourselves, or our children won't have a choice
Won't have the consciousness of power just powerlessness
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 9:49 PM UTC
How can I be so dispensable?
Useful, perhaps,
but dispensable.
Like toothpaste
that you squeeze
and squeeze
and squeeze
until I’ve run dry
and there’s nothing left
that I can give to you,
so you don’t put me away
with your knick knacks and treasures
but place me in the trashcan
without a second thought,
a fond memory,
or kind goodbye.
Goodbye.
Jan 28, 2011
Jan 28, 2011 at 9:56 PM UTC
You don’t know how it feels.
When you are cut from your lifeline
like an apple being picked
when it isn’t fully grown.
When you are replaced
with hard plastic and metal
where bone should be.
You probably want to know why he hates you.
It is because he has to learn how to walk again.
Because you can’t run like I could.
Because you can’t kick a soccer ball like I could.
Because you can’t make him itch like I could.
Because you are a reminder of the infection.
The infection...
that took me away from him.
I was made with him.
You were made for him.
You took six weeks to be created
I took nine months.
I was his first step,
You were a puzzle piece
that didn’t quite fit
You had to be forced
by people in white masks and blue gloves
They couldn’t touch you and
neither can he.
So instead you lay on his bedroom floor.
And I will not feel bad for you because
I am lying in a medical waste bin.
Waiting for my turn to enter the fire.
This
is
my
hell.
I miss him,
will you tell him
that I miss him?
Let him know the feeling is mutual.
I understand if you tear this up
there is no warmth in you.
No blood will ever pump through you.
Trust me, I get it.
When the heart dies, it is buried where it belongs.
Being hugged by its fellow vital organs.
it’s just like taking a nap
they say.
But when I die,
I am surrounded
by other dispensable body parts.
We are the forgotten few.
People do not have funerals for finger tips.
It feels like I am being eaten alive.
You can’t tell me I should feel bad for you.
Or that I should feel sorry for you.
Because I was alive,
I was moving
and you
are plastic.
Just,
tell him goodbye for me.
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Defining Lego Moment? What is that, I don’t own one!
Life growing up was unacceptable – it was chemical and dispensable
My life has never been a bed-and-breakfast - early childhood memories got me ill and susceptible
Tryin’ to find a good early childhood memory is like NOT passing “the test”, because I wasn’t in class. So I ask, what’s next?
Defining moments were replaced by worries and doubts, fears and shouts
My, oh my, why couldn’t I have been brought up in someone else’s house?
I’m just me. So why can’t anyone see I’ve got dreams I want to turn into reality?
I know, maybe I’m adopted! Oh, I could only wish that I belonged to a different home
So who knows, maybe I’m supposed to grow old in a world where survival is at the core of my bones
Future me, I hope that you see, I’m not like them, nor do I ever want to be “like them”
-----------------Fast forward to today ---------------------
I thank GOD for the life I was given and the road that was driven
I’m here because of those dreams which started out as fears - I’m what I am because of those years
I know that I wouldn’t’ be here if it wasn’t for those days of dysfunction and tears
I’m at a junction in my life - I’ve realized that my unction in life is an exponential function that shines like a bright light
My tears have been replaced with people who are sincere and true
I no longer have to worry about the black and blue, now I can simply wave ado…
So I chose to become not what I saw, but what I knew was right in my heart. I leaned on God and learned from stressful nights that choosing the road less taken was all part of this plight
And here we are today….
Now, what does this say, about me?
It says that I’m a child of Destiny, not a child of Disney
It says that I’m a child of God not a child of the Devil
It says that I am…
Predestined presently, sensibly created even though I didn’t come from the best pedigree...
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 1:52 PM UTC
I am untouchable, right?
You don't want to touch me
Be near me
I'm so ugly
An outcast, I gripe
Sparkles of dust
Flying aimlessly
Towards the void
I disgust, don't I?
An abomination in flesh
A ***** -inducing nauseating pile of thrash
I'm nothing to you
You are nothing to me
So you fear I'll give you the disease
Honey, there's no disease worse than the one that is rotting your brain
To you
I'm dispensable
An object
A slave
So you won't touch me
But you want me clean your dirt, your shame, your filth
For they would make your hands *****
My hands, what hands?
I'm subhuman ****** right!
They don't matter
Nothing matters
So you won't touch me?
That's fine
I DON'T WANT TO BE TOUCHED BY YOU
NOT IN A MILLION YEARS
YOU DISGUST ME
Jan 20, 2021
Jan 20, 2021 at 7:44 AM UTC
To the men who tell me I’m prettier when I smile,
the ones who feel uneasy if I frown for a while.
To the men who make me question myself,
the ones who make me put my worth on the shelf.
To the men who finish, then stare at the ceiling,
too scared to ask me how I am feeling.
To the men who make me burn out like a candle,
who tells me that my love is too much to handle.
To the men who take and never return,
this is my last hope that you’ll ever learn.
You seem to think my heart is invincible,
either that or that my body is somewhat dispensable.
You turn off your feelings, afraid to seem weak,
run away when you see the affection I seek.
I played along, thinking “sure this is normal”,
but I’ve been enlightened and my complaint it is formal.
So listen up men, because I have a voice,
what used to be an orifice, is now making noise.
You made me a fool, left me with no clue,
but I’ve come to see the only fool here is you.
You’re missing out, and I finally see,
God told me “bless up”, then pulled you from me.
Actions over words, I know, what a shocker,
I’ve dug out my self-respect from the back of my locker.
So here it goes, a few words of the wise;
the “girl you were ******* now has a surprise.
Listen up “men”, because you have a choice,
until the right one is made, the correct term is “boys”.
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 9:02 AM UTC
Look into my eyes
They widen and glisten
I can show you the elders’ cries
Through sight, you must listen
Take my hand and walk
Soles silently cringe
Walk on but no talk
What you see is a matrix fringe
Curl your fingers together
Feel the icing on the tangible
Clear your throat, it’s fever
Of frill and lust, the dispensable
Can you see?
Can you hear?
Can you feel?
Speak with yourself –
It is no super than I.
The whispers from the moon
From rabbit’s supper to a drone
Akin to a butterfly from a cocoon
Echoes the sound of ‘Om’
Take a seat, float, know tranquil
Look behind, in front, anywhere
The silence is what remains still
Though entities exist everywhere
Can you see?
Can you hear?
Can you feel?
Speak with yourself –
It is no super than I.
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 10:13 AM UTC
I think what hurts the most
is that you are so deserving of love
and I wanted nothing more than to give it to you.
But you did not want it from me...Why?
It is in that moment, I am 8 years old again, and I am shouting
//WHY NOT ME?! WHY WAS I NOT ENOUGH?!//
I have so much love for you that it makes me ache.
It makes me angry. It traps me like an animal in a cage.
Why don't you want it?
Was I too willing?
Too honest?
Or fundamentally, am I just not enough?
Has this all just been a reminder that no one really wants my love? That they settle, if only temporarily, until someone better comes along and they no longer need this placeholder.
How was it so simple and so easy to pretend?
Sure, you never said the words, but your lips pressed against my forehead - your fingers interlocked with mine - we shared sorrows and dreams -
//WE WALKED YOUR CHILDHOOD NEIGHBORHOOD//
How can it be true that it was nothing?
How am I supposed to just forget and accept it?
How could you know me so intimately yet care so little?
How could you?
//OR MAYBE THE REAL QUESTION IS//
How am I still so dispensable after all this time?
Sep 10, 2023
Sep 10, 2023 at 4:06 AM UTC
the arrogance
oh humankind
terror
fear
suffering
exponential death
we have brought
into this plane
a world
that may be no larger
than my eyes attest
oh humankind
our purposeful waste
dispensable products
people
populations
oh humankind
our sophistry of individuality
greed
power
war
genocide
in the fallacious name of
permanence
oh humankind
we cling to our objects
our love and hate
our righteous insecurities
we claim these as authentic
but we are little more than ghosts
inflicting a blink
a glimmer
of intolerably painful light
while we
these pathetic apparitions
stubborn and feeble
dissipate
into colorless purity
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
I contemplated
if being a second choice
was better than none
but I couldn't stand the thought
of being an option
because that meant I was
dispensable
and I didn't want to be
just another star,
you know?
I wanted to shine
I wanted to be the entire galaxy
while I was just another
twinkling star
that would be gone
by tomorrow night
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
I've never wasted so much time
feeling so dispensable
with him
I was your blood and bones
the grit in your teeth
sun in your eyes
do I ever cross your mind?
Are we still on the same wavelength?
Find me, feel me, release me
Let me know your still out there
in my atmosphere - somewhere -
forget the past
we've already wasted so much time
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
what does (s)he see in me?
my heart feels like lead
all the color in my life is gone,
but all the cones in my eyes are intact.
I never should have woken up
am I that dispensable?
I can't remember what it felt like
before the darkness came.
That just invalidated all my efforts
I’ll only be a burden
They’re just being polite
Why should I even bother?
I wonder if my family sees
the hurt in my eyes
and elects to ignore it
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 5:27 AM UTC
everybody talks about their boys
like they're daisy chains
or paper dolls
nearly identical and
dispensable
but for me there's only
you.
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 8:28 AM UTC
ive never been enough
even in my mind,
i fight to win the rival that
never ends.
the only things that bring me comfort
are Doctor Who and Lord of the Rings,
mhm... yes i miss you and that smile
of yours dear god, it is like heaven.
but, you see, ill never be enough
ive always known that.
neither the doctor nor the hobbit will
come to save me.
i hate being so dispensable
i feel so bad for my friends and my family,
they have to deal with me all the time
but i guess when im gone
everybody will grab a glass of wine.
cheers, shes finally dead.
(i say this all the time in my head!)
oh dear, dont be sad,
be glad,
shes dead and the
demons are gone from her
blasted head.
(can i make the same end-rhyme twice?)
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC
Laughable
Affable
Reachable
Near
Damnable
Mandible
Crucible
Bone
Icicle
Tricycle
Sensible
Fear
Inevitable
Dependable
Dispensable
Stone
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
C. B. was a son of a B!
Did anybody really like him?
Most of the people he encountered
Usually found more reasons to strike him.
In school the kids called him a bully.
Bully he was, and bully he did.
He derived inordinate pleasure
Tormenting any vulnerable kid.
His schoolyard behavior was no better
Than his disruptive behavior in class.
In fact, most teachers would call him
An incorrigible pain in the ***
In high school he was just as aggressive.
His reputation was firmly upheld.
Holding a freshman's head in the toilet
Finally got the bully expelled.
How he earned money. Well, that was
A real mystery--through and through.
Not surprisingly his motto
Was ***** them before they ***** you."
What his girlfriend saw in him
Was truly anybody's guess.
Aware of his fractious personality,
The woman married him nevertheless.
People made bets on how long the couple
Could last in a stormy marriage from hell.
After the wife had had enough,
She packed up the kids and said farewell.
C. B. remained estranged
From both of his kids for the rest of his life.
Some woman out there was very lucky
For he never found another wife.
Money. That was all that mattered.
People? Employees? They were dispensable.
His dog was even afraid of him
And sensed that he was reprehensible.
He bought a number of businesses.
How they lasted was a surprise.
Frankly, most people suspected
Secret Mexican Mafia ties.
One day C. B.'s lifeless body
Was found in his driveway. The coroner said
A heart attack was the cause;
But some suspected foul play instead.
A gravestone reads: "Here lies C. B.
When life was hard, he would persist.
Survived by two loving children,
The doting father will be missed."
Whoever wrote that epitaph?
You wonder: what did he or she owe him?
The author of those unfounded words
Obviously didn't know him.
Oddly the deaths of louses and scoundrels
Are so hard to identify,
For based on gravestones and the obits,
It seems that only good people die.
- by Bob B (6-27-17)
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 3:20 PM UTC
How many men make or brake the barriers?
How many more move forward as the carriers
of the message? The presage of the black dark future.
When society is wounded who'll be dressing the sutures?
Those in suits blur truth across the canvas,
Then paint over it with blood from the youth and the savages.
Ravaging for innocent civilians, to apply the bandages.
While the man in the suit counts the loot as he micro manages.
Feed them Faceless, Tasteless food for thought.
Get them Pacing laceless- racing to be caught
red handed, then remanded in custody to rot
in a cell, dwelling on how poorly they fought.
Not to quick to mention their desire for redemption.
The lesson is learned until it's consumed your whole attention
span, quick make a plan- confessing that you're a bad man
Don't change the fact that you were sweating as you ran man.
Who's this man? Who's lurking in the shadows?
The search narrows- he's found hanging from the gallows.
This harrows the whole world for a whirlwind minute.
Until the media man has had enough chance to spin it.
"He was a reprehensible, dispensable shell of human.
His soul had creeped out after years of consuming
peoples fears, then blaring it back into their ears.
He was mole for manics, spreading panic to the assuming"
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 11:06 AM UTC
(~~~~~~~~) (~~~~~~~)
(You're like a)~(wisdom tooth)
( skewed, dispensable, useless )
( erupted painfully, pretty late )
(poking, hurting, surplus, hidden,)
(taught life lessons, gave wisdom,)
(Troubling) ) ) ( ( reminding)
(Extracted) (forcefully)
( Left ) ( a void )
(to be) (filled by)
(other) (teeth)
(I still) ( feel)
(the) (pain)
( ) ( )
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 7:27 AM UTC
There are those people who
Never seem to care about the things
That I find so important,
Like friendship, and family,
And loyalty, and trust.
Perhaps it doesn't bother them
Because they are accustomed
To seeing things in that way,
That way that people are simply
Dispensable, replaceable, interchangeable
Not so special or unique,
Just faces and voices to fill empty spaces.
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 10:58 PM UTC
Through limerence a longing lust lingers,
Beginning by stroking your face with my fingers,
A sensation wells from my ocean as my body swells with more than emotion,
Helpless to my impulse to begin slow smoothing motions,
Across your soft skinned irresistibly gorgeous pert body,
None of you remains untouched apart from the parts the animal in me wants so much,
As smoothing turns to grasping heavy breathing turns to gasping,
Breathing and heaving in unison as I hold you tightly within my clutch.
You whisper softly, longingly your desires of the night,
As our breath becomes heavier we can't control ourselves try as we might,
The rustling of clothes as they become dispensable items,
Only serving to ready us for the sound of skin on skin as the intensity heightens,
Light thuds as clothes fall to the floor,
You moan in a way that lets me know you want more,
In our underwear we hold one another our lips smacking,
Our movements make the bed make sounds of creaking and cracking,
You gasp for air and sigh loudly with delight,
Your body underneath me is the most glorious sight.
My hands can't help move down your sides to that thong you have on,
While they stay on your hips a while as I kiss your stomach I know it won't be on for long,
I slowly slide it down past your thighs,
As I kiss the inside of them we are both on a high,
I move my lips to your lips below your hips,
Taking care to do here what I do there as you begin to flip.
I move my head up slowly to yours as I kiss along the way,
I'm rock hard when I reach you but I stay outside to play,
I slowly move inside you as you feel me throbbing strongly,
As I move in and out my hands don't stop as you start moaning loudly,
The bed it rocks from side to side as if on choppy waves,
The sound of you in ecstasy is what my body craves,
As we reach the top of what we got I leave some of mine in thine,
The afterglow is so bright it's like nocturnal sunshine.
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 8:51 AM UTC
She bore her second child
in a room of white powder,
cylinders of blood, and grey
masks. There was pain but
none to remember. A slab
of live meat burned in her
arms, leaving marks over
wrists and blooms of red
between her bruised legs.
It wouldn't stop crying.
The thing had a *****
It was an off-white thought
that permeated her sweat
and that smug look of concern
on her husband's face.
She was a calf born into a
slaughterhouse. Stirring to eat,
to milk; to forget, spawn,
and then lay down whatever was
left beyond bone and tongue.
It was time for balloons and grapes.
Re-printed greetings cards
from Aunt Elaine: 'congratulations
on your human function,
and here is some money
for your new kitchen sink.'
The doctors were talking over
the Tupperware cradle. They must
be able to see the symptoms
of dispensable modes of thought.
They ask if she wants to hold him
again. When she told them that
she was tired and would rather
sleep the whole thing off,
a clean-shaven man-child gave
a dark look and wrote something
down on a clipboard. He made her
nervous. She could hear his
new shoes squeak, and could count
the blisters forming over
his earnest young feet.
She could not remember getting
home weeks later. Or how her
hair was combed into shape
every morning. Mother was round
most days, sitting in the garden,
making tea with too much sugar,
and giving lectures on the
importance of breast milk. The boy
would have to get used to unreal food.
The third time she went to hospital
she returned with no children at all.
Her mother still came to see her,
bringing stories of the brothers.
It was better this way, of course it was.
It is easier to listen to the falling
of bombs behind a newsbeat vibration.
A far-off land where worry can only reach
you in off-hand bulletins, bright white
pills, and a needle to send you to sleep.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 5:19 PM UTC
I was lost in the darkness,
Overwhelmed by sadness,
Life lost its meaning,
And became depressing;
I was a terrible fool,
To think the thoughts are cool,
That says only you,
Can make me whole and new,
But i found a way,
Grew stronger everyday,
The darkness is over,
I've found another lover.
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 4:30 PM UTC