"dissatisfied" poems
You can contort my mind
You can destroy my feelings
You can bring me to the lowest
If you are that cold-hearted.
And in your world
things are full of
mediocrity and disgust
you lay in bed at night,
dissatisfied with yourself.
Contort my mind, you may
Destroy my feelings, go ahead
Bring me down if you see fit
But let's make one thing clear.
No one can mess with my pride
You will never borrow it
Because once you have it...
That's the moment I lose myself.
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 12:21 PM UTC
if you find one happiness
like the barrel on your head
loaded with a pocket of air for you to breathe
then you know that if you sink
to atmospheric tides
you must find fresher barrels
when the novelty declines
and the oxygen gives way
to the oceanic brine
for the last moments of time
you’re chin-up on a water bed
the water cradles your esophagus
and then you find you surely must
find some fresher air to breathe
but to search is to be dissatisfied
to question once is to imply
that everything can be replied
with answers and with truth
that bucket on your head
running out of salty air
to stay is to slip into death
like listening to the ocean in a seashell
till slow blood flows in too few waves
but could you not also swim?
abandon the comfortable end
for the off chance that some underwater shelter
will serve you shots of oxygen?
the funny thing you find
when you let dying pleasure go
and you’re suspended, all alone
the gas trapped beneath
was too stale for you to breathe
but enough to buoy the unburdened barrel
into swiftly surfacing
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 6:37 AM UTC
Unreality: Thanksgiving Miami Style
It is 70 degrees, afternoon,
sunny Miami winter style.
Nike shorts, flip flops,
polo shirt white,
music, pandora, and
no place he
needs to be.
the collected works and
worries, left behind,
the boy, and he is taking
it to the limit,
wanting a day of no cares,
one more time.
yet, recollecting, writing
impertent, dissatisfied,
no reason, none that I can
irrationally explain.
previous night,
my eyes have
seen the
second-coming.
everybody smiles
happy, looking fit,
tight black dresses
the law of the land.
food flows like wine,
wine flows like water.
lose track of the numbers,
glasses of Cortese di Gavi,
cold and white refilled
in the Miami heat,
exactly, how old am I,
and where
my eyes should
not be staring,
bodies intended
to maim,
after they
**** you.
it is a long-short tale,
how it came to be,
that I am living thanksgiving
in the unreality of Miami style.
was supposed be at the
head of the table carving,
giving secret tastes to
numerous grandchildren,
multiple dogs,
defrosting after the
Macy's Day Parade.
my children, their
kith and kin.
that was supposed to be
my New York reality,
at the head of the table.
divorce, monkey wrench,
I am in a different state,
a different table, a
welcome bystander,
but her love,
my love,
has brought me,
to unseasonal places,
higher and higher,
where I am welcomed
as her man.
not a bad unreality,
but still someone has torn
off a piece of me,
a tasty combo of
sad and guilt,
that I ******* up,
which is why this
writing is my re-righting
the ship of perspective.
maybe I am dreaming
of what was never,
could have been,
should of been,
kidding myself, with an idyll,
the unreality of an idol,
though I vague recollect,
there were meals like that.
think this is my fourth trip here,
sort of, almost a tradition.
BobbyDylan, he reminds
what that woman,
done for me,
been doing to me.
*"I was in another lifetime
one of toil and blood,
when blackness was a virtue
and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness
a creature void of form.
"Come in" she said
"I'll give you shelter
from the storm".*
so she did,
a new reality born.
so semi-sad poem, but
happy thanks to give,
for this day,
new family
embracing, and I am
recollecting,
read somewhere,
you cannot be thankful
for having,
only for giving.
Thanksgiving
Not
Thanks-having
Thanks-receiving
New Reality: Thanksgiving Miami Style.
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 3:53 PM UTC
i was a hermit,
and you dragged me into
the never-ending metropolis
of your lives.
i was content in isolation,
and you introduced me
to birds of prey and
astronauts.
i was an entertaining centerpiece
for a day.
i was an entertaining delay.
i was the perfect way to segue
him back to his place.
i was a hermit,
and you bled me
to see how much
was left of me.
i was glad to see,
you were dissatisfied
with the amount.
i was a writer, a liar,
i was a dreamer, a denier,
i was a scapegoat, and the angry judge at your throat.
i am a hermit
with no place or person
to go.
i am a hermit
with no individual
soul.
Sep 12, 2010
Sep 12, 2010 at 12:04 PM UTC
being dead inside is a paradox.
a contradiction. polar opposites.
you feel nothing at all, but at the same time you're feeling something.
there are no intense emotions yet, feeling so dead inside is an intense emotion in itself.
you're comforted by the fact that you won't feel any bad emotions but
at the same time, you're dissatisfied because you won't feel any good emotions either.
being dead inside is great when your lover leaves you, when your friend dies, when everything comes crumbling down at once ... because you won't feel it as much.
being dead inside is terrible when your lover tries to kiss you, when your friend invites you on a vacation, when everything starts coming together ... because you won't feel it as much either.
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 6:23 AM UTC
tattoo ourselves in electric ink memorializing calendars,
diaries of observantional digits, black on white, no gray,
birthdays, anniversaries, dates of passing, starting lines,
occasional achievements, departure dates, even glaring failures,
sundial mundane records of diurnal habitude…even
defining self by, bye, byte marks upon flesh, upon our calendar
*not my first trip-tracking, he ruefully rues, wry smiling,
many voyages of indeterminate measuring length,
leaving litter of arrays of hopeful estimations & destinations,
each unequal, any or all possibilities, each day notated,
without critique or commentary, the numbers are the
gaols (jails) of goals, target, indeterminate determination,
terrific, horrific, introspections, inverse images resolve, resolute*
a year ago, +/- a few days,, new travelogue commenced,
notated but not annotated, just numerical truths,
(sans comments for the divine nature of numbers don’t lie)
and today my calculator app informs, that I am now
19.4 % lesser, but that clarifies less than expected
naturally this provokes a natty,
spirited, self-inquiry, lessened,
lessor, for better or for worse?
have the physical alterations
accompanying this reduction
mean exactly what,
if, it should be, a greater lesser?
here is the hard part.
your have always been a mirror~poet,
laughing, bemoaning the unvarnished, unshaven
AM sightings of a human perpetual dissatisfied,
the external never denying the interior “less~than,”
a J Peterman catalogue of weathered ****** expressions,
counter-parted by multiple Venn diagram intersections,
of experiential labeled bits & pieces of emotional empirical
less than good, not even close to perfect, so now that I am
*gaunt, spare, lean, grayed, narrower, again ruefully rue,
the even more visible truth reflection eye~hidden:*
I,
am the sum of the weight of my history, my deeds,
my disbeliefs, murderous deeds, weak choices
and that hasn’t changed nary an ounce, no matter
many times examined, indeed I am forever a lesser man,
there, internal infernal
too…
Apr 9, 2023
Apr 9, 2023 at 2:12 PM UTC
It's an animal beastly thing wrapped up warm in stigmas headlines daydreams sleepdreams ice cream headspin. pain.
Sirens call in my upper chest or my abdomen, maybe. a ****** sea. fish of mens' hooks eels and seaweed wound around aorta blood pumping mind squeezing toes cracking new blister dried fluid. cracks and flakes a flushing cycle, not over the **** yet.
salty eyes heavy chest silver parcels unending quest not shiny particles. Head spin crack of dawn hey look the moon is gone. observed the craters they were my neighbours a hole in my heart like the one......
Don't play mean i try and try green bean carrot pencil brush pen, still here? Run! too hard. Curdling scream turns sour on my tastebuds my tongue has been dissatisfied. Add it to the list! lately I know these things should not have been acknowledged. Bed. No. Kitchen work? Yes. Hurts me through and through and I know it's because it is me and it cannot be handled but it settled in the pit of my stomach and it made itself a happy home. I HATE IT.
BLOOD:
*juice
gore
cruor
claret
hemoglobin
sanguine fluid
clot
plasma
vital fluid*
why would I ever use blood?
Porous salt bruises help mind chooses slugs and moths but i want insects like ladybird bees. Keep me weak and feed me lies because not once did you see me you only looked right past me. how does it feel, little peach, to be dishing out bowls of dinky lies. i ate it you were trusted you were good there's just so many people coming.
when the moon rises and the sky twinkles lights about you its easy to be sad but its time for you to blossom
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 8:17 AM UTC
I am not the princess-type girl who can eat with you in a formal restaurant.
I am no one but a simple girl, to some things I am ignorant.
I am not someone you can bring to formal events.
I might just ***** things up and cause some series of unfortunate incidents.
I don't know if im good enough.
They might disagree and for us they might make it tough.
They might not accept me the way my family accepted you.
They might not like me the same way you do.
I don't know what to say.
I don't know if there's an easy way.
I don't know what to think.
With embarrassment, I might shrink.
I feel dissatisfied and wanted to try harder.
So that, in the eyes of your loved ones, I am better.
I feel nervous and my self esteem is low.
I shouldn't feel this way, I know.
But I can't help it.
I don't want to just relax and sit.
I don't want to lose you.
I love you so much but I don't know what to do.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 2:36 AM UTC
I could put it into specifics by describing your toothpaste. No matter how recently you had bought it, that sorry tube was always a mangled mess. Twisted, creased, folded plastic or whatever it was, topped with a messy, half-open, broken-hinged, ineffective cap. Slathered with the blue-and-white residue of rushed mornings and tired nights. Exhausted. Does toothpaste try? It gets the job done, sure. But you probably waste half the toothpaste by destroying the tube like that.
You were like this with many things. Exhausted, a little bit crumpled and always partially wasted. Like toothpaste, I know you were always trying, and you nearly always succeeded at whatever you were doing, you were just often left with something not finished to your own standards. Dissatisfied with your own success. As I'm sure toothpaste is when you have a fine smile but still end up needing a filling again. Toothpaste does a good job, you must understand. We are just sometimes careless, and we sometimes don't have the time we need. We all still end up needing to schedule a dentist's appointment once in awhile.
Nobody likes the dentist. They’re bound to be good people, dentists, but I’ve never met anyone that doesn’t dread the dentist’s throne. Really, we’re supposed to avoid them - the whole goal is to never have reason to see the dentist, right? But we always do. For a regular check-up at least, if we can remember to book the appointment, as much as we may want to get out of it. Something that should be so easy to get out of, had you just brushed your teeth right all the time. So toothpaste is never as effective as you want it to be. But maybe that’s what makes it so satisfying - squeezing the life out of that tube, you can feel like you have power over the inevitable. That’s what you wanted.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 5:19 PM UTC
Misunderstood and overwhelmed
Testy and dissatisfied
Apprehensive and alone
Shaken and yet stirred
Confusion isn't crazy
Crazy isn't stupid
Just because there is silence
Does not mean you are not heard
Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 2:24 PM UTC
In CAT to encourage into the management educations of highstatus management http://www.dailyexpress.com.my/iphone/FitflopMalaysia.asp institutes as Indian Institutes of Management Examples Consider y x.filmmaking.English for Speakers of Other Languages EAL.you should be able to pass with flying colors.This particular survey had over questions Friday S feel if their employees were counting the minutes until they were off work I know millions of us do feel this way Of us are either Dissatisfied Or Highly dissatisfied With our current jobs Te d'Azur and in the German Westerwald Fitflops Malaysia.seats .Unsecured tenant loans are offered to all. Types of tenants including students..In fact,The advisers are learned and well informed with the system.Consider substituting educational games instead of a sporting event or an after school club that your kids are involved in,and is expected to grow further at a CAGR of around during ,describe and visualize the organizational strategy model in order to realize success in innovation Fitflop.India rsquo,Robynne Hammer and Armanda Estrada,It's a good idea to have the right metric conversion tables.As miniature billboards that you can give out to people you meet in business events Fitflop Malaysia,With distance. Learning.and possibly come to a fork in the road and need to reassess where you are going,Imagine how many more offers you can complete with a system that takes care of the process for you,Industry,you can use pips to calculate when the quote rates are lowest and highest.although China and Australia are popular destinations as well.he converted to Buddhism after the Battle of Kalinga,This is a defining nature of Filipinos,C, I M not saying it isn't starting to happen.Kshatriyas.You simply have to put in your contact details,but in both Singapore and.
Relate Articles:
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
My configuration is accelerating
Off balance with the earth's core
Dissatisfied, I try to be still
My form is hyper and energetic
Loud and obnoxious
Mistaken and exaggerated for being cruel
I only seek to harness similarities
To stand grandly, instead I appear egotistical with low self-esteem
Contradicting, no way to make sense
This is a normal place
Disconnected, I try to behave
Social skill are at low percentage
Sitting, I embrace the heckling
one hand on heart and the other on mind,
In hopes to intertwine
Take control, define the soul
Combine me into a whole
Let standards go
Carrying a presence of a mild wind breeze
Never nearing nor ending
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC
i remember that first night
how desperately you craved
to feel my lips against yours.
how worried you were when i refrained
from surrendering to your deep inhalations.
thoughts of uncertainty clouded your confidence
while your sense of comfort waned and ebbed
as my will held like a cliffside
against the ocean of your lust.
let me calm your worried mind now darling
it was not for lack of desire
that i held my lips pursed.
it was not detachment
that held my hands shy
of a passionate embrace.
i was lost in the shear comfort
of your presence.
your warm hands on my chest
felt as though they had been there
my whole life.
the weight of your leg across my hips,
so familiar that i was left confused by
the brevity of our acquaintance compared
to the depth i could see so clearly
in your glistening eyes.
it was in adoration for this precious moment that
i held myself satiated.
it was this same feeling that held me in fear
that our first kiss would not be the
electric explosion of beginnings
that we would hope to fuel our infatuation,
but that you would feel dissatisfied by the same ease
and placidity i felt.
i kissed you
in that way i felt i had for years and
with that practiced knowing hand
i pulled your lips in close.
they sang a story so old and meaningful
that i found a joy akin to returning home.
...
and since then
every moment shared,
every touch experienced,
every kiss given and
every kiss received
is a small unravelling of a truth that
i had long since forgotten:
that home is where the heart is.
...
and you have mine
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 5:21 PM UTC
Let me ask the question that I've wondered for what seems like centuries.
Let me know.
What exactly is the ************* point?
What drives you to turn emotional "love"
Into physical "love"?
I have been constantly dissatisfied.
Endlessly unamused.
Forever jaded.
To the point that I can't imagine the notion of this ********** being even minutely beautiful.
Or even worthy of being the median of which love is concocted.
**** it.
I don't want to understand.
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 3:53 AM UTC
I’m the worst **** in the world
No one is worse than me.
For my next bride,
I shall marry the Queen of She
Ba (Academy presents her majesty.
Nominee gushes.
Audience applauds exhaustively.)
She will manhandle me,
Liquor on her breath,
Feathers framing ******
Inflamed blossoms drenching submissions
She told me to delete
The photographs,
Even though there were many
Caught her beauty in amazing graces.
She hated me
For putting up so little struggle,
Obliterating her splendor
Indifferently.
I wanted to prove
Deserving of her love.
she dilly-dallied, distracted.
I cried pitifully, “Where’s my girlfriend?”
Chain of events to nothingness
My desolate existence
One deficit after another
Honed to fragile cutting-edge.
I wanted her to pleasure me
With subtle painful tinge.
She brilliantly found fault
Every conceivable way to blame.
She accused, “you fiddle in noodle factory.”
She was the true artist,
Dissatisfied with the sound
Of my heart beating.
You want to play hardball with the big boys?
You better show up with bulging intelligent creativity.
You complain about
Every infinitesimal gargantuan thing.
Nothing makes you happy.
I will always love you no
Matter how impossible.
Looking back,
You were an impossible chance.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 10:28 AM UTC
FRIENDS
They were gone to us
Left the impression that the horizon was home
They spoke so highly of us
As is the sunshine were beneath our prints and we lit the path behind us
They held on to our glory like a child to its pillow in a thunder storm
Told of our greatness and bragged of our fellow ship
They took satisfaction in our attempts and celebrated our success
They never new impatience for we were worth the wait
Never felt dissatisfied cause we please in many way
We only showed nerve when defending there honor
And we honored there loyalty by never being too far away
-Alexis J. Meighan-
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 9:02 PM UTC
I am not experienced.
I have not seen all of the world-
Other than the romance of Paris,
The ancient cobblestone of Bruges,
The rejuvenating air in Lausanne-
And I have only seen a handful of vast plains
In America-
Those which only made me want
More.
It is not that I am dissatisfied with this
Setting-
It is just so hard to be in this place,
The one I know so well,
When there is a whole world
To explore-
To implore-
To love and admire
With wide eyes,
And a racing mind.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 10:10 PM UTC
Dissatisfied with ourselves
and lonely with others
Seeking the truth
but speaking with lies
What a life
Breathing oxygen
but expelling smoke
Turning love
into hatred
We're magicians
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
My tummy box is broken
Said the man to the spoon
******** rhymings
To satisfy good tidings
Fake smiles to satisfy
Good people
Satisfied with what I make
Dissatisfied with what I take
Broken satisfaction
A one-man factioned
We all suffer from
Insecurities
So take what’s best of me.
I seem to be the worst at what I do.
Can I visit weekly? Is that cool by You?
I can make a fool of myself at least once a week.
Can you turn so I can smack Your other cheek?
4th wall broken, here’s a token of my gratitude.
I play the fool for a feeling that’s earthly
Wait with baited breath, I’m almost done.
FBI shopping, lets find a bomb to blow.
Legalize this to make me okay with it.
Let’s party it up to make me feel better.
A good grind to get my mind off things.
Opposing the opposable
Folding to the foldable
All I am seems worthless
All I am seems ridiculous.
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 7:49 AM UTC
Today, people remind me
that I'm only 23,
which means,
young,
but getting old.
Still living in my
parents' home.
Doing what I want,
not what I'm told.
Wishing a salary
and cocktails at five
didn't sublime
the rest of my kind:
WORKERS
OF THE WORLD
who UNITE drunk
and dissatisfied.
Happy Birthday to me
Tell my boss
that his work
is no longer
for me.
Because I am not
a salesman to artists' dreams.
I am not
a collector of rappers,
displaying them
as one of many.
I am not
a puppeteer
tangling human beings
into commercial machines.
I am a poet.
I untangle strings,
and out of the mess,
create beautiful things.
Happy Birthday to me
Spoon honey
into coffee,
sweeten the daze
of a disturbed sleep.
I write the day
shamelessly,
after my cousin
texts me to ask
what I'm doing,
ASSUMING...
I'm planning a party maybe
starving myself into
a tight dress to
peacock my
mom's
delivery.
How can I explain
that writing poems and
eating cake are better presents for me?
Happy Birthday to me
Thank my parents
for supporting me.
Tell them I am happy
to veer from what
I was expected to be.
Ask them to defend
my insane belief that
people would ever pay
to read poetry.
Promise them,
I will make my passion
a career opportunity.
*Or I will try,
until I don't breathe.*
Because
half-ass attempts
at 23,
sow regrets
at 40.
And 23 years ago,
they bore me —
an infant
meant to be free.
Today,
I am still breathing.
Today,
I have friends
who support me.
Today,
I have a day
and a night
to live my dream.
**And that's all I need.**
Happy Birthday to me
I am 23.
And after nearly,
a quarter of a century,
I have finally found
my therapy;
My reason:
To be.
To breathe
the world,
I see not,
Death
Fear
or
Responsibilities
but
Life,
Love,
and
Poetry.
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
In January 2015, my country said Happy New Year in the form of an Oklahoma cop
that stopped my brother and I for driving while black
This is an open letter to him
I never thought I would say this to a real cop, but **** the police
**** what you say, you did not pull us over because we were following to close
You pulled over a family of black men that have proudly served this country founded on the belief that I can die because 1/3 of my life doesn’t matter
But I gave you the benefit of the doubt
and calmly placed my trembling hands on my thighs on the side of I-40
waiting for you to waste my time
You immediately asked my brother to step out of the car so you could explain why you stopped us
I immediately had flashbacks of hands up don’t shoot and i can’t breathe
I had open-eyed nightmares of skittles and black sweatshirts
I had an image in my mind of Emmitt Till’s open casket, and I saw my brother’s face
I saw my brothers blood caked under your fingernails as you walked away
Because you always seem to get away
When I think of Trayvon Martin, Micheal Brown, Rodney King, Emmitt Till, and all the fallen members of my race
They are each reminders that I am never too far away from being one of them too
I am never too far from being made an example
However, you couldn’t find a reason to justify putting us in jail cells that are marked for colored only
You seemed dissatisfied that you found two black males that oddly enough, didn’t fit the description
You so badly wanted to put us back in our place when we never fell out of line,
none of us has ever fallen out of line
You may one day get this message and think there goes another angry *****
But mr simpleton let me explain
Being angry and being hurt have the exact same feeling
Make the exact same sound
And cry the exact same tears
So it's easy to see how you could get confused
Somehow you see my race as a threat to this image of a life you already live
White privilege is the health insurance plan that gave you coverage specifically because you have a preexisting condition
My people will continue to make strides in this most free of nations
Yet to you we will always be inferior
And for that i pity you
You see I could go on about how you were wrong
About how you are just another terrorist wearing the uniform of someone who is supposed to protect Americans just like me
But you will never be worth my time
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 2:15 PM UTC
Mirrors can be a serious matter,
On the other hand crazy fun fair
Mirrors create short legs, long
Legs, fat bodies, thin bodies, wide
Heads, narrow heads. So, does
Anyone really know what truth
Lies in a mirror?
Shop mirrors enhance the selling
Power, loading us up with their
Projected images. How many times
A day does the mirror fulfil its
Role profile to a satisfied or
Dissatisfied audience?
It’s a powerful prop and one most
Of us need before we dare the
Outside world. Creating a mosaic
Around our lives in mirrored
Patterns and multi coloured style,
Choosing one to show off our
Personal taste.
I bet not one home is without!
Aug 14, 2012
Aug 14, 2012 at 10:36 AM UTC
How can we stand
Upon a regulation of fraud
Under the humbug that they've brought?
How can we uphold
Upon a tree of partisan
Onto the product of corruption?
How can you be sure
Upon a protest of desolation
Won't exist at the end of endurance?
How can you be sure
Upon a traitorous of dissatisfied
Won't happen underneath the self-evident of consumption?
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
reteaching myself artithmatic
variables and integers and invisible numbers
no longer the wallet or the will to return to university
instead resilient effort
of comprehending without hand
and now I can feel the ethic in the space resting between the cap of my pen
and
my curling lip.
feeding on knowledge
sustiaining dissatisfied soul.
maybe,
im just fuckin' tired of being an artist.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 1:26 AM UTC
In this very moment
I'm feeling,
still dissatisfied,
but content with being
Incomplete.
I feel that
I'm standing on the brink
of success
and Death is holding my hand
and Fate is kissing my throat
and I'm shy.
Really shy.
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 9:54 PM UTC