"enabler" poems
Insanity Is the comfort of a pillow, used for suffocation.
Insanity Is the warmth of a gun, used for a death shot.
Insanity Is the enabler,
The barrier breaker,
The undertaker.
Insanity Is a safety zone.
Insanity Is a shield.
Insanity Is a guard for all to take part in it,
All who brush with it,
All who dwell in it.
Insanity Is the abstract thoughts, the rotund ways.
Insanity Is the thought that you can do anything.
Insanity Is the fact that people can question, can insult, can pry,
And they never seem to affect you,
And they never will.
Insanity Is a soft room, padded with cushy walls.
Insanity Is a group of people, who try to figure out what's wrong.
Insanity Is not quite knowing what's going on,
Having that privilege,
Having that power.
Insanity Is engulfing, a single being in itself.
Insanity Is the process of losing yourself.
Insanity Is the way you go when you just seem to snap,
Lucky enough to see nothing,
Lucky that everything goes black.
Mar 20, 2010
Mar 20, 2010 at 8:21 PM UTC
daily provisioning
wallet watch testicles spectacles
cash (single bills) cell phone
bottle of water hairbrush with vanity attached,
personal technology baggie
(earbuds, variety of charging cords etc.)
loose change in order to fall from pockets & annoy yourself
sunglasses (idiot! summers half over) and something else...
pocket tissues!
skin and bone, muscle, all flavors and multilayers,
a language of music only you hear,
the pumping station internal, the gaga motion
product of the palette of body following souled emotions,
the antacid pills after that burrito;
and that strangely named thang called
libido?
your teeth your smile, your shyest guile,
to catch that lady’s hopefully.
reciprocated pearly whites delight,
pen and pad to record being a sad and mad good lad,
a Swiss Army knife if the tube or bus
should (will) breakdown,
your tiny little bottles of
inspiration perspiration and perspective,
that you forgot to
label
the list to do and the list
to add to the to do list
and good heavens,
a serious writing utensil
to fool yourself when
thinking serious thoughts like
these
the last but should be first,
the house keys!!
keys just an enabler
to do it all again
tomorrow
July 11, 2018 10:22pm
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 9:15 AM UTC
The way
That the sun rays
Sunbathe
Hot day, faraway
Photons travel
Outer space
8 minutes
On your face
Covering you in
Ultraviolet
X-ray
Nuclear waste
Pretty cool,
I'd say.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 3:14 PM UTC
sadness and emptiness are two different things
emptiness is absence of feeling, and sadness is pain
emptiness is the feeling of no feeling at all,
sadness is the crippling enabler that makes you feel small
sadness has a cure, or so it seems
emptiness, however, is a very unsolvable thing
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 12:27 PM UTC
I recognize
this ground
laced with stones
and poisoned barbs
hike barefoot here
unafraid
a barren desert
feels like home
when there is nothing
to be lost or gained
I have been here
many times before
stripped down naked
in the noonday sun
watching vultures
wheel and dive
as I dangle
twist and spin
ever the enabler
enabling
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 11:54 AM UTC
we are not safe
all the markets could come crashing down
it could happen any day now
a blue origin rocket ship
never making it to its final destination
no man knows the hour or the day
no man knoweth that
bridget jones had her cigarettes
with wine and mr darcy
but i only have **** and a plastic
one liter bottle of coke zero
and no mr darcy to know the hour or the day
helen fielding, enabler of the delusional,
recycled happy endings
but the plastic coke bottle
isn't a jane austen novel
and the chinese don't want our garbage anymore
there is enough garbage in china already
"there are 8.3 billion tons of plastic in the world"
8.8 million metric tons are chinese trash
for the yangtze river to carry to the sea
sometimes i feel just like garbage previously shipped to china
trash and blue origin debris
comeuppance for the yangtze river to carry to the sea
endless oceans end
same place plastic rocketship garbage begins
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 5:47 AM UTC
I can't let myself keep awake about you.
You have absolutely no idea.
None at all, how I lie here and just
Think
And think.
Remembering you and me in darkness,
Music all around us.
Sometimes flashes of this.
Sometimes long detailed thoughts.
Trying to remember every action,
Every word said.
It all gets twisted around.
Distorted the more my mind pushes for a visceral connection to hold onto.
To relive again those moments between you and I.
I feel vulnerable in my thoughts.
I had a notion that I kept my emotions closed up tight.
No one could decipher my state of mind.
But as I always do,
I feel transparent around you.
And it frustrates me to no end.
Seeing signs, unwillingly, in everyday things.
Reminders of you in some little way.
Unconscious happenings, until the third time's a charm and I take notice.
Is some higher power trying to tell me something or what?
Is it useless to believe divine intervention could have a hand in my life?
Can't I think God is involved in my insignificant place in the world?
How can happenstance be blamed?
It's seems to me that I know you,
Or what I want to assume you are, given the chance to get that close.
And I can't be your distraction.
The phase that occurred between the running away and the falling back to.
I refuse to accept that role.
To be so rootless to your life.
That's not fair to me.
Not at all.
Especially when I have no idea how I came to be here.
In this complex emotional pond.
I just woke up one day and it was.
And I didn't get to prepare.
And it's not fair.
Let me have my walls back because now I am stuck.
Thanks to you, I'm stuck somewhere across from a breakdown and beside staircase.
Maybe you're a twin mirror of me though.
You might have just been paying more attention to the details.
Been more effected than I was, faster than I realized perhaps?
Whatever the case is, it's thrown me.
And I lay here every night think, thinking.
Somehow paranoid you can feel me conjuring memories of us.
Maybe wishing you could feel it every time you come into my head.
Like a ringing in your ears.
So then I wouldn't have to be alone in all this turmoil.
Not tragic just inconvenient.
It's as if I have a fantastic vision for a painting but no brushes to stoke with.
I'm baffled.
And I don't know where to go from here.
This limbo, half self imposed.
The saddest thing though,
Is that I kind of relish those thoughts.
Because for now they make me feel not so alone.
© NDHK
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 6:44 AM UTC
Gravity:
What goes up,
must come down.
That's what Science tells us.
And though I've never felt
the need to understand things,
only people,
I find myself circling around the
concept of gravity,
and how well it plays with
eastern ideology, with death.
After the spirit ascends,
It must come, crashing, back down
to Earth.
Sparking against the surface
as a new soul, a new way of being.
I've always been told
to read between the lines,
and maybe I've been treating my textbook
like a work of fiction,
but what if gravity is just
a metaphor for obsessive affection,
and reincarnation it's very
toxic enabler?
What if we're just stuck
in limbo, until the Earth
learns how to let us go?
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 12:25 PM UTC
6 sides
Latent enabler
Counterpoint to truth, amorphic
Dada to life
Callous Birth
Islands dripped in collagen
Mystic, effortless life
Tempests laden iota in tune
Riven
Licked flat, obtuse
Crescent stench
Pagan cells
Hazard the thought
Pick the Atlantic cherry
Reach further than comfort
Pushed & consumed
Spirited paste
Jesuit told in spheres
Lament interest, matted quill
Totem, Saxon tribe
Inflections of hearsay
And Swastikas on parade
Guilt of the blacksmith, undecided
The arms of tablets
Ashtrays & tropospheric light
Another page turned
Capsules filled with perfume
Loose skin lost in relics
Temporal lobe
Cautioned indignant
Pardon the prose
Sonnets dissolved in ethanol
Caricatures of the fleeting
Of our cities last broadcast
Absorbed by times gone
Glittered pestilence
Canceling subordinates, powdered Semtex
Soup of the sewer
Lift the butcher above your head
Nazca lines
Suborbital
Silk screen with *****
Horizontal qualm toward revulsion
Incursion
Calm, cued and cubed
Lab coats coated in pharmaceuticals
Base compound, ionic bond
Covalent CNS
Sympathetic vibration
Default to nature
To theorise movement
Agitate intolerance, turbulence
Beautiful thought
Calculate causality
Passenger of licked lips
Token to latex
Croft in ear, to taste
Unlaced tips, rings of halothane
Bliss
Intrigued with obscurity
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
I'm a sprocket
A moving part
Comrade to the common stapler
Wind me up
Punch my card
Money makes a fine enabler
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
as day closes
I lay on my right side in night’s envelope
knees bent in semi-fetal position
my right hand reaches up and across
resting upon the coolness
of my exposed left shoulder
chin touching upon forearm
I ponder sunlight’s hours
where the insecurity of others
spews green venom
and imaginary superiority
reeks yellow breath
in the darkened quiet of sleepless sleepiness
I find that little spark
the enabler that allows me to love others
in a sometimes unkind, uncaring and thankless world
it is the comfort and peace we all seek
a feeling of belonging
to the earth
to the universe
to one’s self
no matter what others may think
no matter what happened during the day
no matter how hard it was
in that last moment of conscious thought
before drifting back into the womb
of softness and dreams
I know that I love myself
in triumph and contentedness
I love myself
no matter what
Aug 5, 2012
Aug 5, 2012 at 4:27 PM UTC
I write for myself.
It's almost impossible to turn my pain into art when it hurts as terribly as it does.
I am on the very edge of growth, hardly a first step.
Every line I write, I can only think of those who lead me here.
Calling them lovers is like calling my best friend a dog.
Sure, he's a canine, but he is no dog. He is a best friend. To me.
Calling them lovers was once accurate, that's how I felt, but now;
They're more. She- Is more. More than the ones I daydream of.
More than the ones coating the walls of my nightmares.
They are not people. They are not women. They are not loves. They are, unexplainable.
I showed Belle my soul. She showed me hers. And we encompassed each other. One step ahead.
Faith too. But she was always two steps back, never forward. And she didn't really love me.
And the most beautiful name, the one society shortened and butchered to simply "Kit-Kat."
She- was more than a fascination. She was an enabler. Like being the target guiding an arrow,
She lead me, kick-started my life. She was the first.
Or at least, this declining helix spiral I call my current living condition.
Now this winter has come, an annuality to when it started.
I was laughing and learning her gorgeous name at this time last year.
I remember walking around that empty playground awaiting her responses to my petty flirts.
All was well. But I was too slow, and he was too entrancing, mature, for her.
She chose- and it wasn't me she was looking at- it killed me.
I craved her. I dreamed her. I can still recall one specific, for I have it saved.
Here it is:
"I had a dream late last summer where I awoke in a white room in a comfy white bed.
The room had a window for an entire wall and outside I could see snow melting off of black,
naked trees which spread deep in to a forest of the same colors.
And that's when I noticed a beautiful white face with dark hair and two blue eyes.
She was just sitting there in light blue underwear and a white tee-shirt and she looked at me and smiled.
And I moved over and kissed her and I lay over her just staring into those chilled moons for eyes of hers for the longest time."
"And that for me, is nirvana."
And that for me, was nirvana.
Her and I. Winter. Purity, love. Cold and warm. White, blue, black and brown. The colors us.
God- I miss that. Those dreams. Those fantasies. Getting nearer to that, her voice and laugh.
-
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 4:05 AM UTC
Let's not make any bones about it,
For I have no bones to pick.
Ah, and I've got you there,
for I am a sack of meat.
O, to live amongst the squids!
and be so jubilant and jiggly,
why, no pleasure's ever met my eye,
as that leathery wriggling beak.
Am I to blame for my misfortune?
Surely so, but of you I must ask,
what misfortune? Am I to assume
that because I have agency, I must fail?
Nonsense! And how fitting.
American manifest. Living
in a land, for himself, most befitting.
Laugh with me, for we live in Clown World.
This is the power of
the untamed duffle bag.
Vicious! O how vicious, his maw,
his all consuming zipper unzipped.
But my zipper, too, is unzipped.
Such a faux pas passes not
in our society, unforgiving,
unforgivable.
Original sin.
Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 10:03 PM UTC
*Setting sun upon golden stage
Blessed enabler
Bury random thoughts in
milky twilight
Open the doorway to peace
this star-filled night
Songs of the forest ,
mourners of the canopy atop
moonlit chandeliers
Set the stage for a thousand years
Every nocturnal beast -
and nightfall songster
Sing to waning sunshine
To springtime constellations
Of hope before universal nations
Of the quest for dawn , rivers of pure light and salvation*...
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 9:54 PM UTC
i've been everything from a pessimist to
a mess
a protector
a liar
a learner
a sinner
a provider
a drinker
a lover
an enabler
a care-taker
a crier
a hard-worker
an optimist,
all molded into one to make me
a human
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 2:12 AM UTC
What would you say if you knew
your life raft
Is the only thing enabling you to sink?
Struggle as you try to tread the water
When you could just lay on your back and float?
No, there's a better way
No, don't let it end this way.
Just move your arms,
Fight the current.
Mar 20, 2010
Mar 20, 2010 at 4:58 PM UTC
Suffering sadness,
Trapped in your own dillusional sense of a fictional reality,
Created by a minipulative enabler,
Every bump,
Scratch,
Pain,
Hive,
Belly ache,
Sore throat,
Something more then what is.
False accusations turn into a desperate desire to develope a deeply fatal disease.
Harmful self punches and bites,
Create bruises on your body.
Lies.
Everyone a false ****** up mistake.
Not a **** up, but severely ****** up.
Dismissing the only one who saw through the ******** and still loved you.
The only one who helped you.
The only one who tried to make you see.
Not a friend.
But to you, just an immature drama queen.
Why fight for a back stabber?
A liar?
Someone who has never been there for me when I needed you most.
Inconsiderate.
The opposite of love is indifference,
To hate is to feel emotion.
No hatred.
Pity.
I pity you.
You will be forever alone.
No one will stand by you as I stood by you.
All will see through the ********
Once they see,
No one will stay.
You have no one.
I feel sorry for you.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 9:32 PM UTC
You are
My heart’s invader
An enabler
Of its desire to open up to you
Drawn to you magnetically
A living soul
Filled with passion and love
Animated
A spirit that is elevated.
This iron heart rusts
A corroded tool
Left in disuse, its owner played like a fool
Yet, somehow
The world isn’t such a terrible place
When I hold you in my arms
And gently caress your face.
I don’t know
Whether this insatiable need for your touch
Is sustainable
Whether or not
It’s a future that’s attainable;
I don’t know
Whether we will always be good for each other
All I do know
Is that I never want
To let you go.
This feeling was once foreign
A concept whose origin
Was swallowed by the sands of time;
An Alexandrian library’s worth of loss
An ancient civilisation’s ransacked ruins
Covered in moss.
Yet, somehow
To destiny I must bow
As I attempt to comprehend
This newfound emotion
Of wishing the hours would never end
When you are here.
I am now handing you
The keys to my heart’s kingdom;
This “falling” in love
This attachment
This instinctive need
To drink from your fountain
To greedily gorge myself in those moments
To relish your soul flowing through mine -
A chill goes through my spine
As I consider this…
The night
Doesn’t feel the same
When I don’t see you.
I don’t know what else to say -
I have been afraid of this day
For I don’t know how you feel
This is surreal
I find myself in a daze
Trying to fathom
How you get through the walls of ice
How you have me coming back like a vice
It hasn’t even been that long
Yet after being with you, my heart breaks out into song.
I am fearful of this day
Yet
I will never regret
Being real with you
This is who I am
This is how I feel about us
It is undeniable
The chemistry is indescribable
A surge of current
Polarises my insides
Every time
These two wayward souls meet
So, no more shuffling of feet
I am playing all my cards
Summoning the power of the ancient bards
To bring you this poem’s clime,
With one, last, hopeful rhyme
And the following words:
“I love you.”
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 3:25 AM UTC
Have you considered the way Jill felt for Jack
Every time Jack fell down; Jill took up the slack
Her tumble was actually caused by fears of being abandoned
Jack hit rock bottom long ago, Jill still hasn't landed
...
Illuminating these words of the wise
That expose such issues that we'd rather hide
Words like enabler, codependency, resentments and denial
All of which place our addictive tendencies on trial
The addict strives to fill the void of a disease ever pending
The therapist with all their degrees are far from comprehending
Powerlessness, a self-prophecy of what you can't control
Higher Power, an interpretation of the superstitions we hold
The religious may disagree but the only power is in our mind
Believing in something strong enough work on these same lines
If a higher power fails you, you only have yourself to blame
We feed these demons inside of us or we keep them on a chain
It's simple!
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 10:13 PM UTC
Great to have, not so great before you start making lots of it.
Money's not the root of all evil, it's the enabler for the careless.
When I die, leaving mine to charity so I wont spoil my kids.
Money, I can take it or leave it, it's there to spend while I'm alive.
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 8:58 AM UTC