"distastefully" poems
Call me fox and I will call you Jaguar
I normally walk the paths
gawking at every creature I pass
squawking loudly, regurgitating my wisdom distastefully
I spoke like coyote
foolisly
I continued on my way, in hopes of a creature large and as fearsome
as fearsome as you
Jaguar
to strike respect and fear into my heart and my actions
so that my meaning would not be soiled by my uncomely behavior
as I stalked you for days on the forrest floor
looking, watching your muscles flow over your skeleton
in a magestically dangerous motion
You can feel me
in the place all creatures feel, sense, and connect
as one
there is unspoken understanding between you and I
oh powerful warrior
and I am to know my place
in the order
you are beautiful and fascinating to me
a worthy objective on my walk
you are a specimen of the wonder of the world
of the god-like integrity and compassion
that penetrates the soul
you leave the marrow intact within the bone
for me to treasure
for my mouth to salivate and consume in haste
but in awe of the judgement you pass
the power bestowed unto you without a single act of self rightousness
we sleep on the same earthen bed
we dream from the same deep sleep
we touch, our stories, our tales of survival
they reach one another intuitively
and so long as I mind my place
silence my ego
I will forever walk beside you, following in your gracious example
as we venture deep with in the forrests density
living vicariously beside one another
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 7:45 AM UTC
This situation has gotten me to see how wrong I was treating you, just so distastefully. I've stopped doing the bad things that I was doing and also stopped using that bad stuff I was using. Its been 36 days now and will be more. I want to share this with you *** Im not like before.
Since Im getting better with the pass of each new day.. I'd like you to see it and then maybe you'll stay. When your on mind altering substances or drinking your life away you say and do things that you normally would never say. People don't need that kind of abuse, and if you say "no" I will understand since I was just a muse. I never meant to treat you so terribly foul. Id take it all back if I possibly knew how.
If you loved me and wasn't able to say it,... if that was even somewhat true then you can still love me especially after all of this time and what we've gone through. Your worth it to me since your the one I want and I will forever be true.
There has never been another man that can compare to you. I have always wanted you from the very start when you would make up little stories that captured my heart. I have always had a strong connection with only you and I hope that you have that feeling inside too.
I want to love you forever and always be by your side..theres nothing I will keep from you...I have nothing to hide. I want to start out fresh and forget all that's gone on...if were meant to be togetherthis wont take too long. Your my ultimate love, my one and only dream. Please let me show you im better and that I can love you unconditionally and never be mean. Please consider it and maybe give it a try...theres no other I will desire and yearn to be happy ever after unless your that guy. <3
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 5:23 PM UTC
Can I numb my body one last time?
You say you'll haunt me if
I overdose
I bleed out
I keep my food from digesting
I **** myself
Whether it is intentional or not.
Quitting cold turkey
Is a ***** and a half
But when you quit three things at once
When your life is still a living hell
You find yourself moody
And depressed
And angry.
How is it possible
That when I decide to stop cutting
Stop purging
Stop hurting my body
Stop denying myself
That I start to have those
Suicidal and foreboding thoughts
Enter my brain again?
Not that I'll act on them.
Obsessive thoughts
Lead to compulsive behaviors
I know this far too well.
The bleak practice of picking my skin
Will all but disappear from my routine.
But hey, at least it can't **** me.
Smoking some tobacco
As well as other assorted chemicals
Could send me to my grave.
It's a little bit of a longer flight, however.
And stress is a more direct route.
I guess you have to pick your battles.
People say they hate to be numbed
I guess that's why people abuse painkillers?
Sorry, I'm feeling distastefully sarcastic today.
But my point is
I don't mind it
Because take away the medicine
And you're forced to deal with whatever reality
Brought you to that point.
Might as well procrastinate while you can get away with it.
But it's a dangerous wire to dance on.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
I imagine a therapist office
as they are lavished in on tv shows
and they're not really like that;
instead of a cozy dimly lit office
it's a white wall maze.
As my doctors
are not private ones
and they surely disclose
all about me
to the insurance company.
I can't help, but twiddle my thumbs
and wonder about the
cries for help
that linger on these paisley painted
dry walls--
snickered with inpersonal
portraits of strangers;
that probably wish
they hung in one of those
elegant, brash, and luxurious offices on tv.
Or maybe instead
the paintings longingly wish
to be dead as well--
instead of being
in this subservient storehouse
that is standing in for an therapist office.
Getting up from another stand-in
this rash beast of dull coloured dust;
calling it a chair would insinuate people
are supposed to sit there,
but I assume
it's true purpose is for the ill-ful
to find something uglier than life itself.
Leaving through another betrayal
that existence couldn't be more lame
is a doorway with the most faux of all possible doors;
it's screaming "nobody ever cut down a tree to make this".
Slipping past another door (eye role)
I come to be in the same room,
but this space is two faultering steps to the left.
And instead of dust everywhere
it's a mobbish moss melancholy
that distastefully lingers
in my personal office's air.
Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 10:45 AM UTC
Teatime done with
I went with Helen
across the bomb site
off Meadow Row
and crossed
the New Kent Road
to the ABC cinema
and along side
the dark alleys
dim lights
damp stink
she just behind me
clutching her doll
Battered Betty
by one arm
was that a rat?
she half said
and screamed
could be
I said
you see
them at night
down here
she clutched my arm
with her free hand
Battered Betty
swaying behind her
what we looking for?
she asked
cigarette ends
I said
why?
What do you
want them for?
she asked
make up a smoke
with Rizla *** papers
I said
you smoke
old tobacco?
she said
put it
in your mouth?
If I get
enough tobacco
sure
I said
looking around
the ground
yuk
she said
sometimes
I find dropped coins
I found a cuff link once
silver it was
but one
ain't much good
unless you're
a one armed man
I said
does your mum know
you smoke?
God no
I said
she has enough
to worry about
without me
adding to it
she frowned
clutched my arm tighter
well you shouldn't smoke
she said
you're only 9 like me
and I would never smoke
and our children
when we have them
won't smoke either
she said
she looked
at Battered Betty steely
I pushed her words
and images
out of my mind
for the moment
I saw a semi-smoked
Senior Service
on the ground
by the wall
and stooped
to pick it up
it's got lipstick on it
Helen said distastefully
it's has a woman's
spittle inside
I looked at her
disapproving gaze
and threw it away
yes you're right
I said
men's spittle's best
she frowned darkly
ok
I said
not really
I just jest
another time maybe
I thought
taking her deeper
into the dark
and rats
and damp stink
of drains
remembering it all
it sinking
into my
9 year brain.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 6:41 AM UTC
My biggest fear is that everyone will eventually discover how positively unremarkable the soul beneath this husk of a person always was,
To shy away from the cringing passersby as they gawp mercilessly at the offending blemish of my existence.
I'm trying to learn how to like myself, but it's a pathological, preexisting condition to be able to identify all of the things wrong with me simultaneously as an individual and as (un)contributing member to society.
I don't mean to be so cruel, for I know in my heart that self-love is paramount to intelligent, peaceful, pleasant enlightenment,
It's merely that I sense some ubiquitously negative energy whenever I make the attempt to muster up some sort of internal kindness.
No, it gets wasted on all the strangers and non-strangers in my socially habituating dwelling.
I'll share with them the stars from the sky and the very constellations from their hearts and make them feel positively dynamic and optimistic and they'll walk away from me with a cushy spot for hope in their pockets.
And I'll retreat to the shelter on my back, drained as if the flow of my mind were poured out in a colander, leaving the pulpy, distastefully rude thoughts that remained to wreak havoc on my crippled self-esteem.
I'm so sorry that my kindliness is some lewd pantomime of genuine altruism.
I'm sorry if I destroyed the ethereal, impossible image of who you fashioned me into.
I was always afraid that this would happen.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 3:11 AM UTC
Kicking and screaming children
With their troubles and complaints
Force words from minds of dreary states
Realizations some won't meet the date
A bitter taste enters the air
Cloudy grey **** tangerine
Brightening to the tune of the loon
A broken down *** with a gun
But faster then we are here we are gone
A fatalistic but hopeful parody
Cracking glass jars in the twilight moon
As my sister brunette watches the toons
Littering through the concrete sidewalks
As the grandma's sagging sit down to talk
These registers are filled with monopoly money
And I just watched a movie of ******* Bunnies
An eccentric with one hundred ways to love a woman
A man that gave the game plan
To a high hearted man glittering sands
Ziggy the man with the amazing hands
For we are on a high and mighty moving picture trip now
Caught in the lit lie of the illusion
Asking the nurse for another freebie transfusion
And a peek from the geek under her sheet
A silly break in the world is the only thing a mad man CAN do
Because sometimes the only sky I see is slightly hued blue
And the men that elude to hatters that are mad
Playing with words in rhyme just make me sad
Brought up as a back door man by my own accord
I caused mischief and terror like every other outlaw
A foreigner in a seemingly "comfortable" land
Nowadays everything seems to have a ****** plan
Where tomorrow is that day and the next will be that
And the guy who you get take out from is wearing the same hat
But the hate you feel deep and preach onto the electronic page
May drearily, hopefully, perhaps distastefully give you a wage
Oh where does the madness stop if it only ends with money!
For these worries are from a sagging face watching bunnies
And eluding to grandeur nearing signs of a menstral manager
And a cosmopolitan back break with the blackening beauty of a snake
Lo,
Here I wait,
For sweet mornings embrace
Mar 2, 2011
Mar 2, 2011 at 8:57 PM UTC
*King of the roaches
you are
With your crown of garbage
and your kingdom of filth
In your lazy chair throne
With a controller of realms
The crusader of Los Santos
No don't get up
don't dare lift a finger
ill come to you
and linger
counting the insects as they crawl across the wall
across the primitive artwork of a previous lover
three paces behind
close enough to see
to speak
to touch
far enough away
for if anyone saw
to pull away and dismiss
you need your freedom your highness?
is that all you wish?
please be my guest
to frolic with the trollop in the kitchen
or even the harlot
who's ruby red lips you so distastefully admire
take no notice
after your gallivanting
how quietly I have escaped the castle.*
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
I get this feeling
in my chest.
Almost like a pain; the same pains that lingers after a fresh wound.
It's the same feeling I get when,
I'm in fear.
Like a pressing on my chest and
A tightening rope on my stomach.
But I excuse it distastefully and with haste.
Then I get this feeling in my stomach;
Like a million butterflies inside, like a constant tickling but
It isn't funny this time.
This is the same feeling I get when I'm nervous.
The pressure to act, the time is now.
But uncertainty of, "what action to take" is overwhelming.
But still I brush it off methodically and with grace.
And then I get this thought in my head;
The same thought that comes about when I know that it's
Game time, time to perform, time to act,
The calm before the storm.
But I'm confused.
And I can't channel my feelings and I start to go mad and I can't control myself and I'm blind with rage and thought and emotion and my heart starts to race and I can't hold it in and then,
I'm calm.
I now I know what I must do.
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 3:56 AM UTC
My bones ache for a body they don't have. Stomach empty I look in the mirror unsatisfied with what I see. It's a stranger. Intense, pale, fat. Skin should cling to bones like rubber to skin in the water, instead it hangs distastefully to my eyes.
******* in I then breathe out the stale air I force to my lungs. The urges are never weak enough. Food looks so good though I know I cannot indulge in what I see as my sin.
My bones ache for a body they don't have. I ache for a body I don't have. I want to be thin, beautiful. I will never be, not to my eyes. To me my body is just a stranger that I'm forced to be with.
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 8:48 AM UTC
In that effervescent essence of elation,
Another day dawns
Twilight finds its way through time,
twisted and tied
Trembling, like the tense, tangled trees
Decadence, descending, with delicious darkness
and then vanquished, with vain valour
That day and its dawning, drowns all
that disengages my disparagement
Distastefully delectable, defenseless..
I ascend,
into this conscious realm
I transcend,
past this putrid pestilence
that plagues my existence..
Nightmares, negated by the nascent
necrosis of my negligence.
Bereavement beckons yet again,
But there is time,
There is time to taste
the tepid transience
of tomorrow..
Silently simmering within,
seraphic, sumptuous sorrow
sinks slowly,
softly..
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
because i hope to absorb something i can't quite touch
a dream you wake up with in the back of your throat
clawing, scratching
to be verbalized into
a plan
a place to point your feet.
my flat will be painted red and covered in
tastefully
or maybe distastefully
**** art ,
and i will look out the window and think
the only thing i really need is myself.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 2:06 AM UTC
His eyes were blood-shot and dull
his hair unwashed
two days worth of ****** hair
framed his jaw,
in his hand was a half empty bottle
of whiskey
the wind howled through the pine
trees outside his dusty window,
barely blocking out the noise
of the highway
he looked at the overflowing trash can
wrinkling his nose distastefully at the smell
and then at the empty bed
closing his eyes, he raised the bottle of whiskey to his lips
and savoured the fire that blossomed in his stomach.
He rose on shaky knees and walked over to the bed,
falling back
and stared vacant-eyed at the patterns in
the cracks of the white plaster ceiling.
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 11:20 PM UTC
My pen is always free
To find
When most sublime
My mind
Is still so bound
By rhyme
Each word and sound
Left undefined
By rhyme
I find
Abrasively
Will grind
In teeth
Distastefully
Bequeath
Each line
That chimes
Pervasively
In ears
And fears
Begrime
Invasively
My head
To dread
Implacably
This crime
Of rhyme
As if it were a wrinkle
In the fabric
Of all time
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 3:02 AM UTC
His eyes were blood-shot and dull
his hair unwashed
two days worth of ****** hair
framed his jaw,
in his hand was a half empty bottle
of whiskey
the wind howled through the pine
trees outside his dusty window,
barely blocking out the noise
of the highway
he looked at the overflowing trash can
wrinkling his nose distastefully at the smell
and then at the empty bed
closing his eyes, he raised the bottle of whiskey to his lips
and savoured the fire that blossomed in his stomach.
He rose on shaky knees and walked over to the bed,
falling back
and stared vacant-eyed at the patterns in
the cracks of the white plaster ceiling.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
SHE WAS SMALL WITH A LARGE RED BOW IN HER HAIR,
IN A HURRY AND NO TIME TO STAND AND STARE,
I ASKED HER IF I COULD COME WITH HER NEXT TIME,
SHE SAID THAT SHE MUST ASK THE QUEEN - HERS NOT MINE;
WHEN WE WENT, WE WERE JUST IN TIME FOR A TEA PARTY,
MY FRIENDS WERE ALREADY THERE AND THE *** WAS EMPTY,
THERE WAS A MAD ONE, TWO KNAVES AND A SLEEPY ONE,
THE QUEEN SAID, 'BE QUIET,' BEFORE ANYTHING HAD BEGUN,
SLEEPY WAS NOT PAYING ATTENTION - 'OFF WITH HIS BED,'
SHE SAID AND BEGAN TO SCATTER PETALS IN SHADES OF RED,
'WHO IS THIS? SHE LOOKED AT ME DISTASTEFULLY,'
'IT'S JOHN, YOUR MAJESTY,' ALICE SAID WISTFULLY,
'YOU SHALL BE HAPPY IN MY COURT,' THE QUEEN SAID,
'OTHERWISE, I WILL TELL THEM: OFF WITH HIS HEAD!'
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 4:38 AM UTC
1
i am the space expanding non-stop at the risk of losing history
and what remains of its stardust.
my sorrows expand with it; my vastness grows wider,
deeper by the day to accommodate
an uninvited houseguest.
2
i fear the act of going through my bones
like a bundle of endless, wistful letters;
some for burning.
some for throwing away.
some for breaking through
my ashen skin.
how can i be both limited and boundless —
it is no magic — just mundanely human.
the thought descends like poison eating at my backbone
until i am no more than a bygone, spineless caryatid.
3
yet again i take down the cosmos,
pick it apart
and in my hands, manage to turn it
into something distastefully prosaic —
turn it into a disassembled being.
all this wordless sadness has made me ancient. alien. unidentified.
4
i am the space expanding non-stop at the risk of losing history;
i have long stopped trying to make any sense to myself and
there is no greater joy
than to be a perplexity.
amid it all, i tiptoe back and forth
between the ice-thin parts of celestine silence
and the static ringing of incomprehensible poetry.
the ground where i stand on breaks;
i float with no direction.
5
i am the space expanding endlessly; i grow wider and deeper
to make room for vaster sorrows —
if only a sigh is enough to hold me
as i tear it all down. tear it all quietly. inward. once and for all.
if only a sigh is enough to hold me
as i implode in tragic,
breath-taking cosmic colors.
Nov 26, 2021
Nov 26, 2021 at 1:59 AM UTC
Instead of love and needing
You used and wanted
Flaunted your lustful conquests
Distastefully like a sick game
Just another name on the page
I know the feeling of being trapped without a cage
Prisoner of love
My crime confusing love and lust
Left in disgust
My punishment life sentence of emotional emptiness
I'll drink to that... Again.
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 10:10 PM UTC