"distressed" poems
a body filled with familiar dread
you might say my body is already dead
my head is said to be quite fretful
took moments of quietude for granted;
and now i’m constantly regretful
the restlessness of my emotions
address my state of mind
and the distressed thoughts run around my head like guerrilas
they know they are running out of time
my jittery heart runs rampant
like a broken clock
and my only wish is for all of this to stop
the apprehension creates a detonation
a complete eradication of my elation
because my body is filled with familiar dread
and my body feels like it’s already dead
Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 9:04 PM UTC
Distressed tears trickle down a face soiled with dolor
Flooding a pillow with painful memories
drowning every being of hope
Swallowing love in a black hole
Only to be thrown back up
As a wreckage of confused emotion
A sponge soaking up all my ambition
Leaving pessimistic thoughts to fill the cold void where there is only an echo of happiness
My already cracked spirits are fatigued
Sharply cutting through my mind where affection is suffocated
And lust is left gasping for air
My insecurities seek acceptance
Confiding in the cushion that holds every tear
It welcomes my troubles
And shuns my dreams
I am a lost soul
If only I could abide behind a fortress that protects my heart
only then will my tears cease
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
Black Like me, I clearly see, I am no longer who I used to be
I am a white man died dark, in this adventure I created a spark.
People are angry. People are mad. This makes me disappointed, and sad
I did this for research, to find the truth. For our future, for our youth.
I’m a white man living the life of the oppressed, the segregated, and distressed.
A white man living the life of the black, and the truth is equality it did lack
It was shocking to find people cruel, who I once knew to be kind
They hated me because the color of my skin, their argument against my race was just as thin.
They made assumptions, followed the stereo type, dear God America, where are my equal rights?
I traveled to the most racist state, where I experienced as a black man, a fiery hate.
I found the idea that the South created: We are unequal, unloved, and passionately hated.
They stared us down with hate we could feel. It was tangible, it was real.
The kind hearted were few and far, I learned much while hitching rides in cars
I could not believe what they share so openly, they spoke of their ****** immorality.
At this point I was feeling defeated, I was sick of how we are treated
I could not take it any longer, but I know I have become stronger.
I will fight against segregation, so we can truly become an equal nation
I hope for the sake of these great people that one day we will all be equal.
No one knows what it’s like to be black like me. I hope one day we’ll find true liberty!
May 18, 2012
May 18, 2012 at 4:06 PM UTC
.
Aimlessly wandering
with a feeling of agitation,
caught somewhere between
browsing with interest
and prowling with intent.
Distressed and unsettled
like anticipating trauma,
mooching with an emotion
that something is imminent
yet its nature remains veiled.
The horizontal line defines a stability and yet,
it has started to list off to one side.
Tiny perforations promise fragmented logic
by osmosis revealing the storm implied.
The tap of excitable energy is dripping slow
threatening balance with a flood rip tide.
Empathy walks with the expectant father pacing
and coils of despair knot so deep inside.
A nervous anxiety
grips psychology and waits,
caught somewhere between
bleak submissive acceptance
and stark naked panic.
© Pagan Paul (22/05/18)
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 10:15 AM UTC
I’m fine, thanks…
Is that what you truly mean?
Or do you mean
I’m tired…
I’m lonely…
I’m hurt…
Confused. Bewildered. Angered.
Disillusioned…
Skeptical…
Or maybe
I’m distressed…
I’m woeful…
I’m pathetic…
Lost. Vulnerable.
Infuriated…
Empty. Lifeless. Crushed. Tortured. Dejected. Offended. Afflicted.
Desolate. Desperate. Rejected. Heartbroken…
Tormented…
I’m scared…
I’m disgruntled…
Embarrassed…
Weak. Dreadful. Hungry. Aggravated.
Guilty… Shameful… Frustrated… Jealous… Horrified…
Overwhelmed…
Devastated…
Defeated…
Is fine ever what you truly mean?
Or is it a cover?
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 3:57 PM UTC
Her face, flawless and filtered, flows over
my chest, ribs, stomach, hips, fitting the curved
mounds of my body, and even within simplicity
of thread and dye, I sense her presence as her face
hangs from my frame, a statement louder than pillow-lips,
Nancy Sinatra-hair and a glamorous 60’s ***** face.
When paired with leggings and an artfully-distressed denim jacket,
I become a member of the “freshman generation of degenerate
beauty queens,” a hipster fallen to the circumstance of youth,
but I wear her face and the romance of it all reminds me:
we are not defined as Lolitas lost in the hood, or distant,
airy voices in a sea of crude jokes and half-baked skits
meant to highlight shortcomings of a person who doesn’t give
two ***** Lana fits me better than my ribbed, red
sweater and even amidst gods and monsters,
this T-shirt makes pretty last, and I am just as cool.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
It's saddening, right?
I'm afraid to be alone.
I don't know how to be.
But when I am surrounded.
I tend to grab my bags and flee.
I'm so tired.. of this war,
Inside of my distressed mind.
Don't tell me to love,
Then have me run.
I want a forever.
Despite the pain that I caused.
It makes me feel selfish.
I was wrong.
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 11:08 PM UTC
The trees juice swallowing
Dread-locks opening the
key to my heart
Pulling Amber Agate to the end
wishing the wagon
was my good luck hand
So helpful than my
hallucination struggling
wilderness mission
Apple abandoned Mcintosh
her computer
The thirst compelled her
So Gingerly lemon tea
4 -2 beer pockets
Four letters not to like
H-E-L-P____$$$
if you only knew abandoned hike
Imagining stew of rabbits
Four people Fast Wendy
4 meals for 4
Sahara desert burger
The Amber ghost of
two wrinkled catalyst
Did time desert me
4:44? Paralyzed list
No Star wars may the
force be with Amberlized
Quicksand lowered
water was drying
Her abandoned party
type Diva evaporated lava
Amber the corner of her lip
all pruned couldn't sing
Slenderman slumber nails and dirt
Amber people are the strange
wagon getting hurt
1- Hot it is (..)
2- Is it wrong to feel abandoned
3-Wrong being sold out to Uncle Sam
What was?
4- Was she blinded all alone S-O-S
5- SOS surrender distressed wood belong?
6- Belong to be dumped
near a wagon deadbeat song
7- Song didn't move lonely emptiness
, please help
8- Help wanted not just any sign
9- Sign was stolen and Amber rose
10- Rose so ember plain and desert storm
he gulped
11- Gulped left with one (.)
12- One far two stars bygones
13- Bygone the last line 13 I= phones
Help______
deleted numbers
Now don't disappear on me
I was abandoned too many times
The dirt and the sand stayed still
No cell phone picture to install
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 7:03 AM UTC
I sit at the edge of my bed,
White stocking covered feet
Swaying without breaking a beat,
You laugh and tell me, "no more, sweetie"
I give a smile but continue in denial
In denial that this is a fantasy I created after a while.
After months of late night calls and whispered sins
Months of laughter and cocained induced spins
It was when the truth slipped my lips that fantasies and dreams were locked away.
I laid in my cold bed, staring through a screen.
Your jaw tightened and my eyes fluttered closed.
Moments before we had laughed about our fantasies and I dreamed of a alternative life.
I even said, dreams don't come true and you neither denied it or agreed.
You enjoyed the thought of holding me and brushing your fingers over my skin.
I now enjoy the thought, alone in cold sheets of being loved again.
I messaged you in silent fear, will you ever come near?
Near to what we use to be,
Near to laughter and calling me your little Ducky?
You say you are torn, hurt and distressed.
One little Lie and I have to pull up my dress.
I cover my body and bow my head,
My Love, I am nothing but dead.
You don't know it now but I can see,
A day or so you will forget about me.
Fantasy will be locked behind a door,
Dreams have turned to nightmares since you aren't here anymore.
I wish I could have kept quiet,
But silence isn't my strong suit.
I wish you were dumber, after your nose is abused,
But instead you remain sharp and count the years until I can down a *****
I sit on the edge of my bed,
Bare feet swaying.
My eyes are glued to the bare stop I wish you were kneeling.
I part my lips to return a sassy response when I remembered;
Fantasies don't become reality.
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 1:06 AM UTC
It follows my movements
behind a seashell,
every few steps
it drops the cup
over it's shoulder
prolifically it shifts
positions, so do I,
as slight of hand.
If the secret of love
is buried in his armpit,
and it is, maniacally.
Tho' not the kind
you buy at the movies,
of optimist derringers,
smoking guns.
Still,
flight begins when
the sun goes down
it shifts euphemistic trees
like shadow puppets
into walls of passion,
makes bulimia dreams
of doughnut holes,
something sweet
craving bakery counters
and bagels take up
the lonesome place
still ringing in our ears,
my ears,
placards hanging lobes
of the emotionally distressed,
handicapped dangle
I can't move my tongue
...again.
But, they still hear love
whisper their name
just before
the dawn becomes.
Sunny rising sonic
boom that scatters the birds
all into synchronized
sign language.
We strain,
to hear them sing anthems
over the roof tops,
it makes us happy to hear
every time,
just one more time.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 9:56 PM UTC
wondrous words,
shades of colorations,
this pain,
artfully slow, steady stalking,
finale staking into
my hardened heart
with tireless twinges
of loss and constant regret,
painstakingly plinking away,
leaving pockmarks of bullets shot
at the concrete ring-fencing,
failing to protect me from just another,
**oh god not again,
have no mo' time**
for jes one mo' time
love's aftermath regret,
bitter acid wash,
that cleanses nothing,
for you are already nothing
when love loss wrenches/rents your
soul's garments with knotholes of
unfashionable distressed
distress
**better not to have loved,
better, better, better,**
than this battering silent hurricane
invisible thunderstorm internally,
than respects no seasonality,
for which the meteorologists
can predict neither its path or its
final cessation
painstakingly,
did I build my walled shelter,
only to fail-fall to the siege machines
of beauty and desire,
and
once conquered,
with fire and heat,
*they burnt me
from the outward edges inward,
and I am not a
Phoenix*
see the stooped slow white walker
more than dead, yet alive enough
existing to be witness to
his own devouring,
his hands wrapped round
the stake in his chest stuck,
painstakingly
protecting it,
lest its removal
be one more undoing of the
painstaking man
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC
Life Coalesced
Envision the rest
Depressed or distressed
Worried less, I invest
May regress or finesse
Life's congruent mess
Mold your self, immaculate
Clear hate and evoke fate
Inspire, create and congratulate
Persevere when near,
Whilst you conquer fear
Happiness untamed
Dreams unattained
Mature and grow wise
In front of your eyes
Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC
perpetual expeditions amidst this hazy twilight,
periwinkled vistas ensnaring me in
buzzzzzzzzzzzz
the sound penetrates my ear drum
black and yellow rabble-rouser
this rambunctious little menace
a pomegranate
eternally ripe, giving me life
gilled, scaled, underwater creature
emerging from the deep, boundless rift
two tantalizing tigers
troublesome, treacherous
and she laid there—
undisturbed, unaware
jabbed in her side by a M1903 Springfield
soothed state rattled, shattered
wincing from the poke of the blunt end of the gun
the sleeping lady slept no more
poor fellows,
how were they supposed to hold on to it without opposable thumbs?
the distressed damsel appeared grotesque,
flailing and fidgeting at the sight of her surroundings
surface rocking beneath my feat,
my trusty elephant’s weak ankles shattering my already shattered stability
i had no more time for such nonsenses
buzzing sounds burned deep into my psyche
the soft-spoken horizon called out to me
calling for me to continue on into the enigmatic expanse
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 12:14 PM UTC
I do not like the architecture of the mall.
It's discordant and lax. The architects
dismissed all Edwardian charm
and even the Gothic grace.
When crossing my field of vision,
the mall concedes defeat,
whimpering against a prismatic sky:
"I am a hodgepodge of ambition distressed,
resolute on pioneering a style unlike anything past,
but locked off in dead history, trapped
in a monologue whose audience is myself."
I presume it's the same across the world,
architecture molded into something impulsive,
something so forced it falls flat.
Where have all the artchitects gone?
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 4:07 PM UTC
Passover Moon's
****** hue
eclipses
the ordinary
in veils of
miraculousness
obscure
rouge
halos
illume
elliptical arcs
guiding
footsteps in
a righteous
exodus
across
troubling
waters
forsaking
hovels
with
painted
doorjambs
dripping
lambs blood
Mezuzahs
bleat
memories
holy
murmurs
bespeaking
lamentations
of ancient
hosannas
our
desperate
supplications
flesh out a
distressed
humanity
seeking
deliverance
from the
vengeance
is mine
Elohim
may it
be nigh
we wait
watching for
an always faithful
Good Deliverer
to honor the
covenant
to lift
despair
with a
liberating
yoke
lugging
leaden
burdens
Oh Holy
of
Holies
banished
in the wisp
of a bitter herb
our
distended
bellies
fill with
unleavened
grace
sweet
droplets
of manna
consumed
with extreme
gratitude
arriving
at journeys
end to
promised
lands
fully
satiated
and free
to rest in
sanctuaries
of radical
hospitality
luxuriating
in an infinite
abundance
for all
sojourners
Selah
Music Selection:
Big Mama Thornton
Go Down Moses
Oakland
4/15/14
jbm
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC
There was an Old Man of Jamaica,
Who suddenly married a Quaker;
But she cried out, 'Alack!
I have married a black!'
Which distressed that Old Man of Jamaica.
4.1k
My life is simple, humble pleasures
The girl I love, summer leisure
‘The Duke is dead’ the prime minister says
‘Your time has come, you must do your best’.
My heart grows large, my eyes turn red
One final kiss, I lose my breath
My mother weeps, my father stares
His parting words ‘you must do your best’.
We train for the task that lies ahead
Our tools of evil, our countries crest
Brothers forever, until the end
The sergeant says sternly ‘you must do your best’.
The foreign soil, our blood it thirsts
We do not falter, we march and curse
We face our destiny, we march abreast
My father’s voice follows me ‘you must do your best’.
The fight is hard, our spirit put to the test
Death follows us, we cannot rest
Our bravery triumphs, ‘oh how our country will be impressed’
We do our duty, we do our best.
But the victory is fleeting, our brothers fall
Staring eyes, cold skin, we loved them all
Our grief immense, we lay them to rest
They were the bravest, they did their best.
The darkness surrounds us, our souls to stone
They want to end us, to send us home
I raise my weapon; one man lay dead
I have taken, life most precious, I have done my best.
The war is over, the Duke avenged
We wander home, those who were left
return to crowds, they stand abreast
They thank us all, ‘You are the best!’
The war is over, still a battle I fight
My hands tremble, sleepless nights
I see his face, where his body rests
My heart is cold, no pride, but guilt instead ‘I did my duty, I did my best’.
My parents proud, my love distressed
My suffering is silent, put to them instead
They grieve for me, the boy that left
The Man, broken, who survived, who tried his best.
A fatherless son, sonless mother
A widowed wife, man’s lost brother
Their pride is poison, a shot to my chest
I confess my sins, they do their best.
My life was simple, now changed beyond measure
The girl my wife, our children treasures
‘The Duke is dead!’ she says to them
‘Your father went, he did his best’.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 9:01 PM UTC
Sinking like a carelessly cosmic ****** on the 4th of J-U-L-Y, while a distressed young mountain lion lies on your feet.
Watch out for the cautious rubber shark inside the lines. It'd be something like Frank Zappa stuck on a deserted island with a dealer of his liking or disdain.
I believe in outlandish crazy industrialists in the distance between here and nowhere.
Lucifer has been infused with witchcraft and crack ******* Mindless ******* Thank your God.
Excellent nutrition is being presented as gluttony. Which in turn has caused your little sister to make daily offerings to a porcelain god.
Pleasure didn't invent rebellion but rebellion did however invent pleasure. Don't confuse the two.
A believer is magnetically drawn to immorality, much like man is to faith.
Inspiration simply radiates free energy and a smile should never be compared to a frown.
Dreaming can be mistaken for productivity. Dream big people, dream big.
Jun 19, 2012
Jun 19, 2012 at 3:56 PM UTC
I was told about the goodness of men,
Their valour, fortitude and chivalry
Riding in on gleaming horseback.
They would lead poorer souls into battle,
Liberate distressed ladies from gilded cages
And stave away the beasts of sin.
When I heard these marvelous tales
A fierce hunger awoke within me.
I began to search for an ivory tower
To lock myself in
That a man so great might come to find me.
I thought that I had met such a man
His armour resplendent,
His smile easy and compliments quick.
He led me forth with promises of fortune.
He presented me with crimson roses,
And oft he sang to me in sweet voice.
I was satiated, my hunger quelled
With what I thought to be a golden hero.
But as the roses waned and his voice wilted,
I found that he had faults and secrets like any other-
That his bravery was bruised with cowardice.
In fact, he was absolutely ordinary,
And as God-fearing as the rest of us.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 9:14 PM UTC
Shattered and Relieved
to realize
that what we had
was nothing more
than something small
and tragic.
Distressed and Smiling
to read the past
figure out the fact
that you are nothing.
I've wasted time
but not that much
having come to terms
with the word:
"enough."
Crushed and Invincible
I've been so bruised
that now I'm strong
And all I can do
is breathe and learn.
You're a fool
but so am I.
Otherwise I wouldn't cry.
You're wise.
I'll be wise too.
And walk away
avoid your eyes
until there's no more pain.
Destroyed but Rebuilding.
I may never forgive you
but I'm okay with that too.
Even if I do,
I will never be your friend.
So don't say hello.
We are no more than strangers.
Hurt but Happy.
It's a freeing feeling
knowing you've started healing
When you stop revolving around the sun.
And start living for yourself.
Jan 2, 2011
Jan 2, 2011 at 1:18 PM UTC
When the struggles and grudges of life weakens me down to my bones and marrows,
And l have none to strengthen me;
The grace of praise l embrace will quicken and be my strength.
When the devil fires an arrow of sorrow towards me,
ln order to narrow my passion for the vision of my mission in life;
The grace of praise l embrace will be my shield.
When the challenges and pains of life groomed in fears,
Strains my heart to rain down tears;
And l have none to comfort me;
The grace of praise l embrace will be my comfort.
When life seems so tough and my challenges becomes too hot to bear,
And l have none to bear my burdens with me;
The grace of praise l embrace will be my refuge.
When my enemies channels their weapons of destruction and distraction towards me,
ln order for me to leave my dreams, visions and life ambitions unpushed,
The grace of praise l embrace will shield me and inspire me never to retire until l am discovered.
When l am frustrated, distressed and stressed in the battles of life,
And l have none to console or encourage me to move ahead;
The grace of praise l embrace will be my fortress and my solace.
When my feet becomes feeble in the faculty of life,
And l have none to uphold me to be strong;
The grace of praise l embrace will be my strength and shelter.
When temptation, trials and tribulation engulfs me like a mother hen engulfs her chicks,
And l have none to unveil me;
The grace of praise l embrace will unveil me and announce me to my world.
When l am battered, shattered and scattered in the battles of life,
And l have none to come to my rescue;
The grace of praise l embrace will gather me up and put me together.
When l kneel before the creator and maker of heaven and earth in prayer,
And l know not how to present my matters before him;
The grace of praise l embrace will speak on my behalf.
When l am knocked down on my feet by the struggles and battles of this life,
And l have none to raise me up;
The grace of praise l embrace will raise me up.
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
Distressed, Dismayed
Disturbed, Disdain
Distant, Feeling Disconnected
Worlds Dislocated
Disgruntled, Disorganized,
Dismayed, Drained
Disarray Abounds
Dispersed into Nothingness
Dead, Ditto, Ditto
of Dance, Delight and Dreams
At the passing of my beloved
Death Draws Me In...
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 5:43 AM UTC
She said it was alright
When a moment ago
I told her
I didn’t love her anymore
She said it was alright
When a lifetime ago
I told her
I couldn’t live up to her dreams
She said it was alright
When I got down to my knees
To give her an ordinary ring
Because I couldn’t afford anything else
She said it was alright
To any and everything
I had ever dared confess
She said it was alright
Because deep inside of her
Was a love for me, almost endless
It’s true, i could have tried harder
To please her, to love her
To appease her, to deserve her
But i didn’t, and i’ll tell you why
Many a night, i’d seen her cry
Alone and depressed
Confined and distressed
In the familial laws and rules that bind
That told her not to speak her mind
That crush her worse than i ever could
If only, she understood
All i wanted to do was to make her say
It’s not alright and slap my face
Take a knife and stab my heart
For pulling all her dreams apart
But she never said a thing
Bound by all those invisible strings
Perhaps it’s time to end this game
And save her before she goes insane
Save her from this world that binds her
Save her from the veil that blinds her
It won’t be easy but i’ll do my best
Take off her shackles and give her some rest
But she is one from millions in the world
I’ll save one from her prison
But what about the rest?
What about the millions that we blessed
With an eternal veil?
You won’t answer that
Neither will I
After all, who wants to give up a servant
For whom, everything is alright….
Jun 6, 2012
Jun 6, 2012 at 1:09 PM UTC