"elasticated" poems - Hello Poetry

What makes you so sure your sickness need not be heavily medicated? You walk around, your body hanging like your favourite outfit that you never wear anymore, stumped in a box The street lights breathe like the cigarette that you smoke at the end of the night and regret immediately after, the cigarette that tastes like glue, The pads of your feet blink to the floor, Your soft eyes watch the people and their smiles, they once represented jealousy but now sail past you like leaves of boredom from nowhere, You chew on an energy bar as the purple plants, bike riders, suit case carriers and fire hydrants stroll by, You make fists to fit eye sockets, but your hands stay by their sides waiting for the courage to find the change that promises never to come, You sit on the bench and wait for somebody who might chemically excite you Your mouth clamps shut and your food rots inside of you molding your breath, The dog walkers follow their excuses not to be lonely and you crave a machine to make you feel better, no human will do, And the cats purr against tree legs and look at you as though you are stupid, You sit around your friends wanting more intoxication anything but this elasticated dribble of saliva they call ‘the gang’ Because another ‘gang’ is just another situation where you can feel alone and misunderstood again, another metaphor for your life and incapability to feel comfortable, You bathe in quiet awkwardness that only you feel and cry when no one looks or when no one decides to see, And you wallow in the self pity that sleeps in beer cans and wine glasses searching at the bottom of them for someone who can relate to your loneliness, And everyone thinks they’ve got the answers but you do too and you think the answers are no good either, You call out on roof tops in the loudest voice your thoughts can muster And the teachers who get paid to care have given up too, So you sit like an old book being read over and over again melting to resemble an instruction manuel or something equally repetitious, And you wait for the time to pass, and the people too, You wait to be interested by something, anything that will comfort you, But you seek solace in the smell of dustbins, petrol, sea salt, beer froth and your hands in the shower, And hope that they’ll all come together and somehow let you know it’s going to be okay.

0

Jun 16, 2013

Jun 16, 2013 at 8:20 AM UTC

ruth-boon

Medication

What makes you so sure your sickness need not be heavily medicated? You walk around, your body hanging like your favourite outfit that you never wear anymore, stumped in a box The street lights breathe like the cigarette that you smoke at the end of the night and regret immediately after, the cigarette that tastes like glue, The pads of your feet blink to the floor, Your soft eyes watch the people and their smiles, they once represented jealousy but now sail past you like leaves of boredom from nowhere, You chew on an energy bar as the purple plants, bike riders, suit case carriers and fire hydrants stroll by, You make fists to fit eye sockets, but your hands stay by their sides waiting for the courage to find the change that promises never to come, You sit on the bench and wait for somebody who might chemically excite you Your mouth clamps shut and your food rots inside of you molding your breath, The dog walkers follow their excuses not to be lonely and you crave a machine to make you feel better, no human will do, And the cats purr against tree legs and look at you as though you are stupid, You sit around your friends wanting more intoxication anything but this elasticated dribble of saliva they call ‘the gang’ Because another ‘gang’ is just another situation where you can feel alone and misunderstood again, another metaphor for your life and incapability to feel comfortable, You bathe in quiet awkwardness that only you feel and cry when no one looks or when no one decides to see, And you wallow in the self pity that sleeps in beer cans and wine glasses searching at the bottom of them for someone who can relate to your loneliness, And everyone thinks they’ve got the answers but you do too and you think the answers are no good either, You call out on roof tops in the loudest voice your thoughts can muster And the teachers who get paid to care have given up too, So you sit like an old book being read over and over again melting to resemble an instruction manuel or something equally repetitious, And you wait for the time to pass, and the people too, You wait to be interested by something, anything that will comfort you, But you seek solace in the smell of dustbins, petrol, sea salt, beer froth and your hands in the shower, And hope that they’ll all come together and somehow let you know it’s going to be okay.

38

What happened to the shoe the plimsoll. Now not seen? Has the supple and flexing rubber soul. These day's never seen. Came in white or black. Some had lasses. Some elasticated encases. They always fitted the foot. And to run and play. Give me the elastic sided ones any day. On the white ones. You would polish them with Blanco. To keep then witter than your teeth. Black ones you just wash. Teachers used for punishment. Now my **** still has. Blanco and Black gloss. Come Back Plimsoll. O Plimsoll how I miss you. And in my past lost.

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Apr 12, 2012

Apr 12, 2012 at 5:39 PM UTC

paul-hardwick

Plimsoll ow my surreal mind!

What happened to the shoe the plimsoll. Now not seen? Has the supple and flexing rubber soul. These day's never seen. Came in white or black. Some had lasses. Some elasticated encases. They always fitted the foot. And to run and play. Give me the elastic sided ones any day. On the white ones. You would polish them with Blanco. To keep then witter than your teeth. Black ones you just wash. Teachers used for punishment. Now my **** still has. Blanco and Black gloss. Come Back Plimsoll. O Plimsoll how I miss you. And in my past lost.

20

for years i have lived within this bubble a bubble that i made to keep me safe keeps me safe within keeps me away clear transparent like elasticated glass i see the world from within and have felt safe from within it keeps the world at arms length safe and away keeps me away within keeps me safe but i can't touch the outside from within my fingertips press the clear press the transparent press the glass and it gives under my touch as my fingers enter the world beyond i have need i have longing i want i want to go beyond to feel the outside to touch and breathe and live beyond the within to escape the bubble that i had created so that i was free

0

Jun 16, 2016

Jun 16, 2016 at 1:56 PM UTC

littlebear

from within

for years i have lived within this bubble a bubble that i made to keep me safe keeps me safe within keeps me away clear transparent like elasticated glass i see the world from within and have felt safe from within it keeps the world at arms length safe and away keeps me away within keeps me safe but i can't touch the outside from within my fingertips press the clear press the transparent press the glass and it gives under my touch as my fingers enter the world beyond i have need i have longing i want i want to go beyond to feel the outside to touch and breathe and live beyond the within to escape the bubble that i had created so that i was free

46

A secret shelter by design whose function is primarily providing unseen sanctuary discretely hiding all that’s there elasticated underwear.

0

Feb 15, 2019

Feb 15, 2019 at 6:46 AM UTC