"displeases" poems
One Cuil = One level of abstraction away from the reality of a situation.
Example: You ask me for a cat.
One Cuil: If you asked me for a cat and I gave you a rhino.
Two Cuil: If you asked me for a cat, but it turns out I don't really exist. In the place where you perceived me to be standing is a picture of a large cat. On it's collar are the words: "I am a large rhino."
Three Cuil: You are a cat. You begin to scream, only to realise that you are meowing. You scratch just under your ears and begin to purr.
Four Cuil: Why are we wearing dinosaur outfits? A light breezes rolls over our bodies but you only have one arm. Suddenly, the wind begins to howl and an alternative universe is created where we are dinosaurs wearing human outfits. I have cats for arms, and as you notice this you meow again.
Five Cuil: You ask for a cat; and I give you a cat. Your pull it to your chest and begin to pet it. Your nose begins to run and you wipe it on the cats tail. On the other side of the world a bank is robbed by a woman who has 7 sisters. In her wallet is a picture of you, in your human form. Your ears are pierced in this picture and they were in your human form as well, but something is different about them. The cat purrs and grabs a hold of your earring, ripping it from your ear. Milk drips out of you wound and the lady robbing the bank is arrested. Her oldest sister is climaxing while having *** with my brother. I give you a cat and it is poisonous. I am dead.
Six Cuil: You ask me for a cat. Mark Whalberg tells me he will not **** and he hands me a cat. The cat is smoking a cigarette, I develop liver cancer. I die. The wind blows on you again and the cat does not have a left rear leg. It puts its cigarette out on my eye. MGMT plays softly and you meow to the moon which is a pizza. The pizza has olives on it which displeases you. Your displeasure causes the woman to rob the bank so she can buy you Hawaiian pizza. The gravitational pull of the olives causes a flood to reach your house. You cry and your tears become lakes. The Earth is flooded. Uranus ignites suddenly, engulfing Neptune in flames. A civilization of Nicolas Cage's living there are destroyed. Obi Wan says that there has been a disturbance in the force. A cat hands you me.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 2:56 AM UTC
We spend so much time editing ourselves,
correcting every little thing that displeases.
Even my poetry is revisited,
trying to pretty up all my diseases.
But I no longer want to appear "neat" or "tidy".
I want to show the world all the things I am hiding...
It is difficult to do the right things,
some times I would rather sin,
but then I remember
Who gave me new life again.
I lay in my bed too long when I wake,
trying to read my bible,
but like the disciples
I fall asleep...
I am too hard on myself, thinking I need to be perfect.
Other times I don't try hard enough,
out of fear that it isn't worth it.
I struggle to forgive, others and myself.
I struggle to realize only I can choose to not live
in hell
I want to restore relationships, but sometimes I fear it
hurts too much.
I am working on remembering
Who is my source of love.
My biggest admission, is that I try to control.
I want to tell God how to write the story,
thinking my words are some how better or more bold.
When in reality He is author of every single thing.
I am reminding myself I am lucky to even be written
into a single page.
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 10:05 AM UTC
For the woman who knows me more than anyone
The decoder of my unpredictable personality
The person who can give me my needs even before I ask
I never heard you tell me that you love me
But I'm sure that you do
It was obvious in the way you care for our family
We have been through a lot
And that really means a lot
Sorry if my way of loving you sometimes displeases you
In all my pursuits I made countless mistakes
You seem disappointed
The truth is you just want me to be somebody
Somebody that can get the best out of life
Don't worry Mommy loving you is
Experiencing the best this life can give
You are the channel of God's unconditional love
Yes you're not perfect so am I
But your motherly love is the one that connects us
Accepting your dear son not just a part but a whole
Not just the good but even the worst
Yes, I'm a Mama's Boy and so be it!
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 11:39 PM UTC
Brain Blow - Rant
nothing displeases silence as quickly as the noise
I know this sounds, literally crazy, as I try to regain poise
my mind was reduced to simple thoughts as I opened up from sleep
sometimes I know my brain just goes, with words that are too deep....!
Brian Hill - 2020 # 350
Dec 22, 2020
Dec 22, 2020 at 10:46 AM UTC
Rejection stings me like a bee, I'm frightened.
My heart has lost it's wings
condemned to return to its cave of shards.
My weapon has been buried in the leaves that you hid in the forest
And I'm struggling to find a color that matches my insight.
Or have I lost not only what is yours, but what is mine?
Reviving the self that is so desperate to hide
that it does nothing but hide in this pathways struggles.
I'm lost in your ruffles.
Friendship has bounds and the binds are what you're afraid to break.
I'm not alone
if this is a mistake.
All I want is to give in to what helps me create.
You call it lust while I experience it as fate.
I say I want someone to hold me
yet there's something underneath my wanting that you translate.
You show me the fear so clearly that even my communication dissipates.
I can't see what's ahead of me, simply what surrounds me,
and even though half of what I see displeases me, there's no way I can see it releasing me.
I must release myself from this madness, a yielding I'm timid to accept.
You've entered my insight and helped me to extend my mind.
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
I align myself with the notion I have it figured out .
But surreptitiously imagine traveling to the ends of the earth, until my mind is plastered with its beauty .
"But that's not a job " they say , "you can do that when you have money ."
It all comes down to the money , pieces of refined wood and words .
I have to get this morphised tree things to actually see those trees .
For how long ........
4 years
maybe 5 .........
15 ?
It displeases me, that maybe living through my worst fears could lead me to those trees .
Being confined into a little room and typing away on a ancient computer .
The smell of expired coffee and over polished leather shoes settling on my nose .
"But what if I want to be creative then ?"
"Surely you can't mean being an artist " they scold
"No.....maybe architecture or graphics design ."
They nod , "yes those seem to get you the money then ."
But architecture means making buildings.
I can't , that would require me to reprogram my hand to stop the doodles of swirly lines and unfinished thoughts .
And to draw lines of accurate straightness and concrete ideas .
Maybe I just don't want to grow up .
Yet I'm told I seem mature , held together .( the irony )
But that's because the system wants someone docile .
I just don't want to be observed,
so I squish myself into normal. Just to be grey in the sea of discolored faces .
I don't want to be picked out and ridiculed for my indecisiveness .
But that will change when I have passed their tests . To move out of their schools .
Get the piercings I wanted and feel alive when I plunge into death contained situations
But I'm not sure though . I think about the future .
Repeating thoughts to people of what I want to do .
And each time I become less and less sure .
And more and more certain I will be made grayer , more uncertain . Then be the fraternal twin of black , white and have a bright light, coaxing me into the future .
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 2:35 AM UTC
A cruel injustice, a terrible tease!
Oh, how it annoys and displeases!
When I'm about to expel a feel-good sneeze--
but then the wretched sneeze ceases.
(A feeling of desperate unease
accompanies
an almost-sneeze.)
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 10:53 PM UTC
And now I feel like a piece of ****
Called you up because I thought we were friends,
And now it seems like your belittling will never end.
I don't know if that was your attention,
To berate me like you were my dad,
But now I'm the one who is sad,
Wondering what gave you the right to
Think you can ever give advice on life?
I can't stand people who think they know
It all, they know Jack **** about nothing,
Always getting involved with my life,
Thinking they can control every aspect
Of what I say and do. They would rather
Look into my heart instead of their own,
It displeases them when I am content, it
Makes them sick to think I'm getting along
Without them. So, what the hell is going on
Here, I can't swallow your truth, or what you
Believe is true. I have my own beliefs and it
Sure as **** doesn't involve you.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 12:16 AM UTC
With a shadow creeping behind me, making every promise empty.
Intoxicating my nerves, I am being chased.
Stalking my forecast, I run at ten speed.
No stopping, I turn around to see a shadow so empty, its mere whispers have demolished into misty ash.
It haunts my every being and stalks my rotten prey.
It displeases my humanity and consumes my lost soul.
I run, run so fast, the lights hit bloom.
Scared, fearful of what it can do, I look down, I see the shadow
...
The shadow was you.
The ghost I'm trying to escape, just keeps coming back.
The feeling is poison, but beautiful at the same time.
The feeling is toxic, but fills my void of loss and emptiness.
You're a bad guy, playing with my emotions and unleashing my toxic tears.
Confusing my feelings and handling me like a puppet.
Why do I love you?
Since you're the master of puppets, you've dominated and learnt to control me.
Let me go.
Or I will turn around, and leave.
Leave you empty, till you lose control.
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 12:26 PM UTC
My throat closes
Every single time
When I want to speak or let myself be heard, I close
I let others speak for me. In whistling tunes I found through the Tube or stories as told by those who live them
I find it is not my time to speak.
For only when I am utmost alone can I even utter a single sigh and still it displeases me of its occurrence
Perhaps voiceless to allow others the space they might need to be themselves. So why am I upset of it
Meek and meager
Never there when you need her
Your silence is louder than a train wreck.
Jan 12, 2020
Jan 12, 2020 at 1:45 PM UTC
ENEMIES
Should I say I have enemies
but rather
that others single me out
as such?
I don’t even know them
how could I?
they never said to me:
‘ You are my enemy’
and why me?
I am of no significance
not in the market-place
not the cynosure of others’ eyes
so few people
know that I exist
do I have the time
or bother
someone has targeted me
as an enemy?
Doesn’t that person
have better things to do?
but I don’t choose
to be the enemy of anyone
I have enough problem
of my own
only one enemy
I dread
lest it destroys me
that someone
is with me
every moment
all the time
day and night
it won’t let go of me
it clings worse than a leech
to my skin
it exhorts
challenges
teases
displeases
chides
blames
even pontificates
wanting to over-power me
in everything I do
trying to undo
what I count
to be dear to my heart
even threatens me
in anger
indignity
without a single straw of mercy
even in my sleep
it doesn’t leave me
it wants to haunt me
so that I would know no rest
I turn the corner to look
at that creature
my worst enemy
oh no
it CAN'T be true
that monster
is none other than
myself!
vincit qui se vincit
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
a place once filled
with magical thrill
has torn and spilled
leaving only cold chill
a thing once warm
devoured by a merciless swarm
drenched in oblivion's storm
and accepted as the norm
what more is left to take ?
take take take
give give give
the pattern of things
in life to live
the way it should be
yet it never quite ceases
often time just displeases
a flirt with the world, teases
if one should ever feel
like they were lacking
i would advise them to perhaps
sleep on it for a lifetime
and maybe by the end
they would wake up and find
that everything they never wanted
was nothing they ever needed
Nov 1, 2011
Nov 1, 2011 at 5:00 AM UTC
Only to please God
is why we are here
Dom Joe
(dear Bunny) said,
facientes voluntatem Dei,
he went and got me
macaroni cheese
for supper even though
I was late arriving
and a mug of cocoa
with skin on top,
agréable à la langue
et le cœur
a French monk said,
you can have me
anyway you choose
she said and I did,
the impudence
of the sinner
displeases God
as much
as the modesty
of the penitent
gives him pleasure
said Bernard,
from my room(cell)
I saw only the rooftop
of the abbey
and the grey slate
wet with rain,
Hugh talked of his
carpentry work
I made the chairs
in the guest house
common room
he said
he was no
George Hepplewhite
and I told him
and he sulked,
l'orgoglio viene prima
di una caduta
the Italian monk said
as we walked back
from our Thursday walk
to the abbey,
Dom Gregory stood
in the shadows
of the cloister
half in half out
arms crossed
staring into the garth,
she lay
on her bed welcoming
legs spread
her garden of Eve
visible and Elvis
sang from the Hi-fi,
I polished the choir stalls
after the office of Terce
and sunlight poured
from the high windows
on the polished wood,
blessedness is not
the reward of virtue
but virtue itself
said Gareth
quoting Spinoza
as we threw stones
at the incoming tides
on the abbey beach,
red and yellow bricks
on walls and cloister
and the church designed
by a monk and built
by local workmen
and I stared and ran
my hand along
the bricks as I walked,
ver a Dios y ser feliz
the Spanish monk said
as we worked
in the orchard
picking apples
for the refectory store,
the wooden Crucified
on the wall of my cell
aged by time and wear
at night before sleep
I would kneel there
and give it
an anxious stare.
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 4:03 AM UTC
I looked into my shadow,
black with such ignorant purity,
yet with the good judgement
I am void of
to shout out
"Don't look at the mirror!
Don't you dare even glance!"
Why not? I'd ask,
foolishly looking into
the reflective glass,
eyeing the pink,
pudgy,
fat,
stupid,
repulsive
stain on society that is me.
Cringing at the image that displeases me so,
the image that has caused the scars on my wrists.
the image that haunts my days
and steals away my nights.
it hurts.
"Because the mirror is a liar"
My shadow replied.
"Because the mirror is a monster,
what you see there is not you,
what you see there is pain.
Look closer,
for that slight warp in the mirror
that gives you a slant to your mouth
is not a malfunction of manufacture-
but of the mind,
carefully crafted
and polished
by society
that you are not good enough,
that you are something you should be ashamed of
until you hand them those so easily torn papers
you've spent so long working for
so you can be chiseled down to nothing
and pumped with plastic
to satisfy a twisted need
for standardization.
That is why you don't look in that mirror.
Because you will not see yourself,
you will see a false projection
of everything you've been told
is not okay."
I tore my eyes away from the mirror-
And for a moment.
just for a moment.
I believed that I was pretty.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 6:50 AM UTC
From my cell window
the cloister garth
could be seen
the clock chiming
each quarter of an hour,
campana sonus
est vox Domini,
Dom Charles instructing
on apple picking
how to do and not to do,
George hoovering
the cloister
we used big brooms once
Hugh said dust
everywhere even using
sawdust and water,
she was naked
and we made love
on her sofa,
Dio parla nel lavoro
the Italian monk said
as I clipped the high hedge
by the church,
sing with silvery voice
the canticle of love
Therese said
(saint that is),
I tolled the big bell
for the Angelus
as shown by Dom James
last time,
Dieu est ici dans
votre cœur
the French monk
told me tapping his chest
as we stood in the cloister
waiting for Vespers,
she knelt down
and said take me wildly
so I did,
the impudence
of the sinner said Bernard(Saint)
displeases God
as much as the modesty
of the penitent
gives him pleasure,
I fingered the feet
of the Crucified
on the wall in my room
disturbing the dust,
hören Gott
the Austrian monk said
den er hört,
true happiness is to enjoy
the present without
anxious dependence
upon the future
said Gareth quoting Seneca
as we sat
in the refectory
before the abbot came in,
I kissed each
part of her
my lips
on her skin.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 2:23 AM UTC
There is a wound that sits behind the eye
Triad tonality, a fearsome sigh
Plucks a ****** chord
Lyric’d by the word “why?”
Acid fingers grin in lust
Anticipating another ****** into the belly
Of time gone by
Hot skin taut and merely waiting
For suicides to release their hands
In the chain their concert makes
Eternities in some hellish waste lived in only seconds.
How strong the forces are!
So steep a severing blow!
Still fresh a carrion scar, festering miles still to go
To beset the pinkest eves
This blade of regret
Within a greater narrative,
Tiny little vignettes
Armed in fashion of drunken odes
Those promises sworn to keep
Accompanied by such pathos woes
Accoutered, finally, in weep.
Brandished when it’s not so fresh:
This minor paring of my flesh
Gleaming in the summer laughs
To caterwaul my gaff, or plural if you like
The humor undercuts enormity
Or screams on shafts in biting breezes
This lived-in clime
I, this prey, displeases.
Unsheathed, the memories, in jovial acts of war
Besiege, beleaguer, the since-immured
True blood and guts long-since obscured
By friendliness, camaraderie
Intentions jester-pure
Trick suppressing-shields raised, jaundiced wills will not deflect
No blade or arrow of regret.
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
suddenness,
greatest flows of displeases
pleases the sides sights can never see
way out, wave the signs the tundras in nordic planes
blue catches purple but purple swallow blues
strumming all the life in powerless houses
on monthly rents and problems
we rebuild life with coffees and cigarettes
on dark rainy mornings
light on the ceiling
a cockroach a fly a moth a butterfly
creatures never to be seen out of the dark
the last yearnings
cold hands lay flat
soft lips lay still
kind intentions and premonitions blends,
in
suddenness
i am the only one
who longs for irretraceable yesterday
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 5:10 AM UTC
Stop murmuring and complaining, because it displeases the Lord. Let us all speak life, all in one accord.
God have made provision, for us to live a holy life. He sent his only Son, to teach us how to live right.
Help us to speak positive words, to encourage those who are down. Allow your light to shine in us, to cause people to come around.
Let us not heavenly Father, to ever get in your way. This will come about, as we sacrifice and pray.
By, Author & Poet, Sandra Juanita Nailing
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
i know it by now -
but i have no one to tell it to
my soul is dense in emotions;
nothing displeases me more
but i don't try to escape
i'm surrendering to this quicksand
i don't want you to rescue me
but please help me save myself
at least before the dusk arrives
because sadness is just too easy-
too familiar for someone like me
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 12:54 PM UTC
I don't have to play
the respect card
When the other option
is common regard
Loose lips do sink ships
and it leaves the other side doing back flips
Lord Thunderin' Jesus
as we say here on the coast
And that's the coast with the most
strictly speakin' a toast to the east
What displeases me most is
a the general lack of civility
On this big ol' world
that they call the Earth
I say, he's got a tick one
and I do mean his head
Some of those ideas
that he did give birth
Some of them good
for what it's worth
Give us this day
our daily bread
Those sugar plum fairies
dancing around in his head
"Donald Duck", I've heard them joke
While his big old pipe dream goes up in smoke
I hold him in regard and that's for sure
I have no respect for someone that I just have to endure
In the end he'll be a part of history
While all our lives will remain a mystery
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC
I loved her
she was the constant reminder of me
How she makes me happy
she knew me
When I'm at my darkest she was there
But I'm afraid of her
she's always there
I look at the mirror
she'd hug me from behind
I tell her to leave me
but she loves me enough for me to die
I tell her I love her
displeases her taste
I knew I had to run away
but she said this was my fate
in the end I couldn't escape
Me and the darkness that was Her.
Jun 8, 2019
Jun 8, 2019 at 2:09 PM UTC
My cat’s become so critical
of the pieces that I write
he kneads to express his opinion
and he always thinks he’s right.
He twitches his ear-itation
if I don't write in Senryus.
If what I write displeases him
he’s under the bed for refuge.
He’s worse than many teachers -
his reviews are seldom neutered -
he pointedly wags that twitchy tail
or cat-calls disapproval.
He laid across my laptop
for half the afternoon
‘til I promised an ode to tuna
which earned purrs of hallelujah!
Dec 11, 2020
Dec 11, 2020 at 6:49 AM UTC
Echo, Wood nymph of folklore
Punished by Goddess Hera
Hated, there was no choice
Fated, deprived of her voice
Repeating words you hear
Punishment for a puppeteer
You fell in love
so you thought
With Narcissus
But he got caught
Looking at his own reflection
Turned him into a flower
Not his finest hour
Leaving Echo lonely and sad
For all the cads that
Never met a mirror they didn’t like
Who’s self-absorbed refection
Removes any trace of reflection
A thought can be misleading
Even if informed by a feeling
Don’t think
Because you think it it’s true
Consider others point of view
Don’t think because I disagree
There’s something wrong with me
Don’t always refer to you
Your grandiose style
Is just a grandiose denial
And while you deny that it’s true
Only an echo believes in you
Must I echo your words
How utterly absurd
This I can’t do
Even if it displeases you
Nothing moves you
Except for the powerless, you occasionally feel
Let’s you know you’re real
And yes
The rage is real
Hidden so well
That no one can tell
As you covertly hide from yourself
Your histrionics are first rate
Always out of date
A recording from the past
You’d think, you’d have worn out the grooves
Of the characters you cast
At last
There’s never an end
To the people I meet
All the friends you absorbed
Into the persona that’s you
Each has a name
But there nameless to you
I say
I know where you got that from
You say
There’s nothing new under the sun
I say
What about originality
You say
Plausible deniability
I say
I really, really need to get away
I say
Then, why do you stay?
I’m in search of my voice
I left it behind
In another time
I need it
Have you seen it
It could be
Anywhere
Under the couch
In the closet
Under the bed
You’re looking in the wrong places
The world’s a reflection
Of the spaces
Between the thoughts
Of your stasis.
It’s true
I’m never alone when I’m with you
Like living in a zoo
Forgive my sarcasm
Lack of enthusiasm
That’s what it feels like
Being with you.
First, you’re uncle Fester
Then you’re Grandma Ester
Who are you really
You don’t know
Do You
You never looked that far
Skin deep
Go that deep
Take a look
What do you see
It isn’t me
I’m not the object of your hatred
I’m not your scapegoat
Forgive the diatribe
For I am a scribe
Looking for her voice.
I am Echo no more
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 11:55 AM UTC
The way that you look at me is the stuff what most I miss
And the way that you look is what most I wonder
Your scent is pleasant which **** me
How you used to jump to greet me as if you were playing airplane and you had already come to the end
How you look at the floor when something displeases you
I miss how you hugged me for anything
And how you hurt me
That you were madure and intelligent
And you also did pouts because I ****** you off
When you sighed before saying a dramatic phrase
When you were my secret
When you smiled to me
And you were to me
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 3:31 AM UTC
I have a darkness,
A quiet stealthy darkness,
That resides in the cracks of my soul.
Effortlessly it laces my dreams with its twisted whispers,
It takes sustenance from my values and sharpens it’s teeth on my faith.
Little by little I tempt it out when the world displeases me,
Almost threatening to unleash it as my righteous damnation,
But to free my darkness would be to lose myself,
And I’m not sure I would ever comeback.
So we dance this sickly jig in the shadows of my mind.
Toying with the temptation of power,
Often you can hear me mutter to myself,
Mumbling in a trance,
Reliving what’s happened only this time letting my darkness form the reply,
If you listen closely you will hear the hatred dripping from my lips with every word,
The blackness burning behind my eyes,
Seeing the wrong in everything around me,
My mind fills with grotesque manifestations of torture and demise,
Blood dripping from my gnarled fingers,
The very earth beneath my feet scorched in disgust.
This is when my darkness finds its place,
Comes alive,
Makes me feel more than I’ve ever felt,
Makes me yearn for death and destruction,
It’s intoxicating,
I want to let it course through my veins and consume me,
The temptation becomes almost unbearable,
Until something jerks me back to reality,
A question,
A voice .....
Are you okay, you were mumbling ?
Am I ok ......
I don’t know,
Am I,
The darkness retracts,
Replaced by an emptiness.
Feelings instead of the fight,
And I’m always left with the same thought,
Am I really holding in the darkness,
Or is it the darkness that’s holding in me ?
May 10, 2020
May 10, 2020 at 7:42 AM UTC