"disrepair" poems
Teamwork Solves The Problem
They say “two minds are better than one.”
Nothing could be truer.
As I watched a friend and his relative, patiently, take apart and fix a broke appliance.
I relaxed and observed.
The two had the item repaired and figured out quicker than one whose questions are the parts in which the other can answer when there, with him, aiding in the battle of winning the war to piece together a needed tool , that needs mending.
Through answered questions from a partner well answering problems, the other had faced,
piecing together the problem, through help and sweet and strong reliance.
Upon another to help in rougher times.
I remarked on such, the phrase, as they smiled.
In agreement…it wa voted unanimously.
That :”two minds are better than one”
Simultaneously….we all nodded.
It was a new motto on which we have started to have styled…
Even more so, even a “ton” of minds wishing to achieve the same goal - to fix a broken moment…
or even a city that is in disrepair.
such, through unity, the item was finished and the conversation had ended….
It is alike war and conflicts…… ….
Having people, ready with you, voluntarily by your side…
Is better than being too tall for one’s own good…or even better motives…
If he fails to see that “one is not an island…”
“Nor is one an army…”
Common Sense tells him to ask for “brother’s in arms”
which overrides any strong form of blind pride..
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 6:53 PM 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
I guess I'll have to make it up.
A bird came to me, she did not chirp
And he did not whisper.
The wings sheathed on its back
Were in no disrepair.
Was it blue? How hard to tell, for its
Skin and coat were of glass, but
finer.
This bird a flower.
So far from bloom.
So frail i'll keep it, to nurse in
Gloom.
Not all birds need sun, nor all flowers flight.
But this of mine will soon have both, for mine must wrest day from night.
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 5:58 PM UTC
Met you the day I thought I'd die
You cured my god **** January blues
After losing all I had to lose
I called you knowing loneliness poison
Intending to one night stand
You up
Late night mellow rock and
Balcony smokes in ice age Michigan
Bodies moving like snowflakes
Tears melting like liberated ice
My old world fading like a faraway pebble's wakes
My love becoming so loud I couldn't hear a word again
In silence I heard violins
An invisible orchestra playing to
The life I thought I was conducting
Too late did I learn
I was merely another violin
There for you to play
And without you pulling at my heartstrings
I would fall out of tune
And into disrepair
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 6:08 PM UTC
In a dream, I saw myself,
Then erupted into tears.
The innocence shown then
Was destroyed throughout the years.
A glass shattered to a million pieces,
Will never be the same.
Glue it together if you want,
All it keeps is its name.
A car left abandoned,
Falls into disrepair.
It will never run right,
Upon this I swear.
People are the same,
Clinging to a better time.
Staying stuck in place,
Destined to never climb.
In a dream, I saw myself,
Then erupted into tears.
The innocence shown then
Was destroyed throughout the years.
Mar 2, 2023
Mar 2, 2023 at 4:31 PM UTC
March in the streets
But I urge you beware
They’ll still butcher the sheep
With the arms that they bear
Private properteers part with
No slave cropper’s share
So this Northern aggression's
Like Freeman’s red scare
All the colors of wind
Through the head-shavers’ hair
The Guevara adventures
These pigs wouldn’t D.A.R.E.
The Arabian knights
In the grand wizard’s lair
The denaturalized dreamer’s
Recurring nightmare
Of the Stalingrad ghost
Still witch-hunting like Blair
The projects to the precincts’
New modern welfare
The post-trauma disorderly’s
Empty screen stare
The savages they thought
Were waaaaayyyy over there
The debt clock ticky tock
In the heart of Times Square
The 1st world problem-children
Who commonwealth care
Because some barely EAT
And we’ve so much to spare
But these cowherds still like their calves
Medium rare
And the bulls try to sell you
Their laissez-faire snare
Till your trapped in a minimum cage’s
Last prayer
And the only escape
Is upgraded software
Like automaton autobahn’s
In disrepair
In this fascist facade’s
Fragrant breath of fresh air
Just as toxic as stocks
Of the mock billionaire
So I shock ‘em like Tesla’s
Bolt-action Voltaire
And I leave it to you
To go **** it out there
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 6:27 AM UTC
If my life, within my eye,
Should flash before me as I die,
Pain and doubt will turn a blur
As I recall my time with her.
Of all life; devoid and cold,
Onto just one thing I’ll hold.
Though I’ll lie in disrepair,
Fear will fade, for she is there.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 8:12 AM UTC
My eyes are beyond polluted
By the overflowing inanities
That paint wordless post-mortems
On yesterday's lost fantasies
Rolling over lifeless as dead certains
When obligations fall into disrepair
And the king of all invocations
Awaits power sitting in an electric chair
As darkness shrouds the uninspired
In triumphant ticker tape parades
While the bewildered beast becomes the feast
A million glasses in toast are raised
To the jesters unequivocally blasphemous proposal
To the queen of all frustrated converts
Who Once Upon a Time willingly surrendered
To the impresario pretender
Who fooled the world by laying siege on the empty house of cards
And with all the power granted
By the grace of obscenities triumphant screams
Separating me from reality by infiltrating my failing vision
With the polluted overflowing inanities of these cellophane dreams
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 4:39 AM UTC
There was a porcelain teacup on the shelf
hidden away behind the others
Long ago she had found it in a dusty old shop
and held it with care as many would
close to her heart
cradling it like something precious
She took it home that day
There on her shelf was a little teacup on the shelf
shown proudly on display
Dainty and sweet with little tea stains
lips had left a little pink smudge on the corner
Loved and appreciated the teacup sat
There was a dusty teacup on the shelf
among the packed boxes it went
Surrounded by windows draped by black
and the smell of salt in the air
Packed away and stowed in a closet it stayed
There in the box lay a little teacup
dusty and chipped a bit on the edge
A reminder of times went by
of tea parties at the kitchen table
of little ladies dancing on the carpet
There among the other cups and such the teacup lay
as they mourned another lost and pulled their lips to a smile
remembering good times gone by and loves lost
Seeing the disrepair and with much care
they took the teacup from the box
There on the counter a teacup sat
freshly dusted and glued together
It stood filled with rosy tea and healing herbs
brought to a mouth kissed gently
They let out a sigh sat the cup down
and began to cry
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 3:18 PM UTC
Hi, nice to meet you,
I'm Me
And this is Ana,
who is also Me
There was a time before Her,
but it was so long ago
that the memories are fuzzy around the edges
She was so quiet,
I didn't even hear Her come in
I turned,
and She was simply there
She was so soft
Her voice a mere whisper
among the surrounding chaos
When I floundered,
drowning in the dark ocean of My reality
She was there
powerful, capable, calm
I am Her, and She is Me
We were powerful, capable, calm
So powerful, so capable, so calm
victory over oneself
Where She was once quiet,
She became thunderous
once soft,
now unyielding
It happened so fast,
I didn't even notice I was no longer steering
That I'd been demoted by a jury of Me
We live together in this prison of Ours;
swimming endlessly
in the turbulent waters that is Our stream of consciousness
like a boiling ***
The vessel that We inherited
through no choice of Our own
is in a constant state of disrepair
And there is One Thing on which She and I can agree:
I am Her, and She is Me, and She and I will die as We.
Et tu, Brute?
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 2:42 AM UTC
Expensive handbags,
Pensive listening,
Nothing I say is ever worth
Mentioning.
Swing on this
Hinge-- a see-saw of
Heartache
Bruised on the *** by
The frozen snake--
Never to thaw
And never to break.
Exquisite lampshades
Hide the luminous
Color,
Now a dingy
Dim of disrepair
Order.
Visit a fairytale
Where honey flows in
Waterfalls,
The smooth will soothe the
Heartless work and
Falls.
Tangled cloth again today,
Moth eaten and angled,
We ride in the dark
Convinced our little playground could save
A heart.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
a group who has a cult following
sings about hiding for
solitude
they dedicate nothing to the poet
who did, as they know it
in hiding
but it was inspired by the same CB
I must say a big wowski to
Charles Bukowski
don't think it would happen here
no chance without distraction
little peace, much action
guessing if I became an angry man
ranted, raved and demanded
this type of peace
that would be a living conundrum
or a poet raging as an oxymoron
please leave the ***** alone
and
give
peace
and
quiet
a
chance
meeting
with words that escape
at the first sign of distress
as they undress my day
and see vicariously the
disrepair, oh you don't care...
Okay
I'll go.
To my hidey hole,
to write my pre-verse
in hyperbole ,
"how to get lost"
and what it cost me,
let the silence be
deafening,
no man may be a
poet unto himself
(forgive me I forget myself)
©DWE102013
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
Corridors, Corridors, Corridors
Turning corners, fortified walls
Falling dust settling on grime
Windows shattering from flying hail
Pain itemized for personal use
The heart is bleeding
From its place in the innermost cabinet
The storm is not passing
The ghostly folly is penetrating
Weakening beams through their creaking
Aimless sounds of abandon and disrepair
Are whistling silently through
The light of the sun and blanket of the moon
That seep in through the holes of the sealing
The elements of the world are caving in
As I walk through the corridors
Searching for a way out
Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 1:14 PM UTC
stôrm/
a violent disturbance of the atmosphere.
of my atmosphere
You are the only one I lived through.
- In a sense of comfort and survival.
They warned me about you.
They told me to pack my things while I was young and had time.
They told me to pack light because I would need what energy I had left.
THEY TOLD ME.
but I believed you would be gentle. I knew I had done just the right amount of observing and that I had you figured out. I told them not to worry about me because I knew exactly what I was dealing with. I told them I would love you, no matter the damage. "There is nothing that cannot be fixed."
And to this day I'm still holding onto that, trying to believe it.
This home I spent 22 years building and securing, is now one with the ground.
My walls that I finally found the perfect shade of teal for, all red now.
Standing in the middle of this ruin, no windows, no door, nowhere to hide.
I have fallen into disrepair and you meant to do it. It's in your nature and I knew it!
Was it confidence or ignorance that led to my unseeing belief in you?
(your ability to be tender and serene)
"The calm after the storm..." Is that what I was supposed to hope for?
No, of course not. I should have known better than that because we all know
Storms never do last forever.
© 2014 Rhea Nadia
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
If I was there
I'd run my fingers through his hair
Tell him how much I truly care
I'd sing to him softly
and kiss him loftily
I would talk about non-sense
and everything of importance
If I was there
I wouldn't be in such disrepair.
Apr 6, 2020
Apr 6, 2020 at 10:45 PM UTC
Prayer is said to be powerful.
Well this soul begs the Grandest Force in this universe
to place love in this being's life.
A flower of one's own that radiates with one's soul
and reciprocates the actions
to nurture it beyond disbelief.
This spirit is not sully
wondering into such ways is only dangerous.
If this heart has already been dismantled
by the only flower who received the transfusion of one's love
the being cannot take that back.
Reconciliation regarding the breathtaking
and impossible cannot be taken back.
Chunk after chunk...that part of the mechanism is falling to disrepair.
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 7:25 PM UTC
Can you not see what you're doing here
The mirror showing aged despair
A body in disrepair
Why Decay can't you let me be
Please go swiftly, set me free
*Don't confuse me with Death my friend
Although he is a friend of mine
Death is eternal
But I am bound by time
I have to see you through to the end*
Well please can you call upon your friend
I grow tired of seeing myself age again
So I ask you to please act swiftly
Decay, can you please take me quickly
And call upon your eternal friend Death
*I am not a messenger
And will not deliver such
I must act timely
Unlike Death
Who's much more abrupt*
Can’t you see my beauty wearing thin
Decay please take me quickly
So I might die young
Think of it as freeing up time
Because I am truly done
*Surely you can’t be done
With so much beauty
That I have left untouched
Barley a hair, freckle or curve out of place
Are you ready to give that all up*
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
the edges are stained blue
and no matter
that spring is holding out its hand
in a promise,
spring becomes summer,
summer fall,
and winter again,
and the hours and the hours and the hours
and cities rise
and forests fall
once, gods
are now falling into disrepair,
temples on the verge
of imploding.
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 7:46 AM UTC
It's quite odd how the average man will not commit to run
With any issues challenging his personal smoking gun.
With issues that confound in discomfort’s naked face
Or adopt a stance of reticence when confronted here apace.
Won’t lend a ready helping hand for fear of being held
Accountable for consequence imagined or dispelled,
Distrustful of the outcome in involvement’s disrepair
Would much prefer retreat to accountability there.
A quotient disappointment to the greater human race
Are the spineless who refuse to look directly to my face.
Marshalg
9 October 2013
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 1:25 AM UTC
Thirty thousand dollars.
That is how much a decent education will cost me.
Thirty thousand a year.
Thirty thousand that should go towards my family's debt right now but will only add to it in 2 years time.
"Why are these kids so lazy? Why don't they get degrees? Maybe then they wouldn't be so **** broke."
Well hey, the money we're hoping to make with our degrees means nothing when we're spending the first 10 'legal' years of our lives working to keep afloat,
keep the IRS from breathing down our necks,
keep pulling together just enough to not quite make rent yet again.
"Get a job. That's what I did growing up. You're just making excuses."
Yeah, and when you were growing up Yale's tuition was 5k and flipping burgers made enough to feed a family.
Brick by brick our fates are sealed,
Brick by brick we were set up for financial disrepair.
"Don't forget about FAFSA", right?
But of course, if you have an income, it's all going towards college, right?
Or if you don't, your middle class parents can afford to pay for you to go, right?
They don't need to give us a ton of help - rent is a luxury, remember?
Money is a luxury, remember?
Living is a luxury, remember?
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 2:18 PM UTC
I'd lie to stay awake,
I would choose the waking notion:
I'd try to speak it straight
for most of a dense impartial resolution.
I'd stay to wake a lie,
by a flaccid disrepair of state of mind,
contorting to sudden sigh
from mostly a yawn time seemed to find.
I'd wake to say a lie,
to whom you found a missing twentieth.
I'd stay to get by
an amusing theme of prose that is not done yet.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 2:58 AM UTC
Playstation.
Running as fast as it can.
Lava flowing through,
From component one,
To component two.
An engine.
Overworking.
Solder joints and Silicon,
The things that break,
Difficult to be undone.
Metal and plastic.
Assembled in crazy ways.
So soon to be,
In so many realities,
A state of disrepair.
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
there is this certain house
call it the beach house
once a well-worn respite,
it's quaint disrepair no longer charms
sands that once barely dared
brush against the steps
victory dance over the porch
and through the warped, unclosed door
as it hangs nearly unhinged
passersby notice
much as hazy eyed prostitutes
stare thru effete johns
from that absent mind place
where it wouldn't occur
to look inside
Dec 18, 2011
Dec 18, 2011 at 3:20 PM UTC
It’s not through any fault of yours
That I cannot share with you my pain
Or force myself to my knees in prayer.
The cross I bear is all my own -
I bite down on my crown of thorns.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.
In the pulpit the priest tells of freedom
With faith that perfection awaits.
Yet, I confess, church bricks crumble around me.
Smothering those who hope for something more.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.
I cry out at the altar,
But only echoes return,
Misplaced anger is given new purpose, Punishment is due.
Your mercies are new every morning,
But I’m stuck in perpetual nightfall.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.
Altar wine stains my lips red,
Stale bread sticks at the back of my throat.
Its appeal has been lost, but still I swallow.
And the pit in my stomach is not yet filled.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.
Dust settles in my corners
And I’ve fallen into disrepair.
Morning bells have long since stopped ringing,
You turned a blind eye and I closed both of mine.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.
I collect shards of steel,
But in candlelight the blades glitter golden.
Flames lick the razor edge
Forging currency to buy my escape.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.
My lover calls me from the dark,
Beckoning me to his bed of earth.
I flirt with death ‘til I’m wrapped in his arms
But my outstretched fingers are reaching for you.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 8:19 PM UTC