"entrapping" poems
You've brought us closer,
Then made us more distant.
Made us more aware,
Then made us doubtful of ourselves.
Introduce us to more friends,
Then invited more enemies.
Given us more publicity,
Then exploited us.
Save us more time,
Now it's spent to be more busy.
Simplify our tasks just to make life more difficult.
You're an entrapping blessing in disguise.
Made us feel more secure,
Yet gave us more tools to break in.
You've become our new addiction,
Just a second without you,
Got us in technology withdraw.
You're a complication in simplicity.
There's so much to love you but also so much to hate.
Can't live with you or without you...
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 8:17 AM UTC
Deadly wheel
Entrapping
Sometimes
Tough and weak
Individuals
Not only
You and I
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
my torment is one of clouds and flowers
freckles upon sun-kissed oranges
like roses through honey
& vivid eyes like the abstraction of Renaissance pieces
oh butterfly how you make my heart melt
chocolate brownie wonders with giggles on top
your effervescence brighter than a summer's day
entrapping my purity within your oppressive interior
our silences are filled with images of my creation
a cornucopia of passion for even the loneliest of wordsmiths
I leap into our pool of nostalgia for old time's sake
only to find your words transform into serpents.
whirlwinds of emotion now whispered into the ears of another
burning adorations into scarred remains
May 9, 2019
May 9, 2019 at 8:23 PM UTC
When the crying sobs
Wracked with pain
Finally cease
They open the gateway
To entrapping numbness
And honestly I can't say
If I would rather have
The horrendous pain
Or the ghostly numbness
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 12:03 AM UTC
We ran out of pencils
which didn't bother us much
'till we discovered that
we ran out of words and letters
as well and
in the lack of words
there was nothing to ration
sheer terror and confusion
and those leaked out of storage
foaming, flooding, roaring
draining all other emotions and
thus the hunger settled in
oozing through the cracks
clinging to the walls
suckling like an orphaned boy
until, when nothing's left
consumed itself to null and
we were left with the absence
who's already small amounts
swelled, and inflated
filling our entire volume
entrapping the echos of memory
then, naturally,
diffused to the outside and
we were left
deprived of selves
only the void within preventing us
from bursting towards the void outside
we float
in no distinct direction
and on occasion bump
into each other's shell
a tap deprived of sound
unable to disturb
eternal peace
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 9:30 AM UTC
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
The smoking and drinking and snorting and fighting and drinking and crashes and drinking were not good for him.
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
One summer, when he was 16, everyday he would take a bottle of wine from his mother's liquor cabinet, buy a pack of cigarettes at the corner store, meet up with his friend Mario, who also stole a bottle of wine, and together they would ride down to the river and smoke and drink and swim. Everyday, for a full 1970's summer they did this.
And now he tells me, that at the time they were having fun and they were not worried about money or addictions or the future.
They were just having fun.
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
One day, in the dead of fall 1981, he and his friends Mario, Mark, ****** and John all got together at Mark's apartment on the corner of 51st and Diablo boulevard. They hit the town, drank, snuck into movie theatres, harassed girls and had a good time. They returned to Mark's apartment at 2 am and thought it a good idea to steal Mark's mom's new car. They decided to go to Reno.
Driving, as my dad put it, well above the speed limit on Highway 49, they collided head on with a big rig. There were no fatalities but my dad broke his shoulder and suffered a minor concussion. Mark's mom chose to not press charges nor did the driver of the big rig. The next day my father was back at work, refusing to adhere to the doctor's orders of taking it easy and wearing a soft cast, entrapping his left arm against his chest, climbing under cars, changing oil, and repairing engines.
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
One cold winter's day, in December of '82, my father's ever faithful companion, Mario, picked my father and his dog, Wimpy, up and they drove over to a small burger joint named Big A's. My father ordered two bacon cheeseburgers and a large rootbeer. Mario got the same, only with a single bacon cheeseburger. My father father gave his second bacon cheeseburger to his pitbull Wimpy.
My father was better to his dog than he was to his own body.
Now, my father coughs himself to sleep every night, and has chronic bronchitis. His liver and kidneys are shot and he plans to not live passed sixty. He will be turning fifty in two weeks.
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
I sometimes I get this feeing as though I was being forced into a meat grinder.
Urged to remove my fat only to spit out chunks of blood and bone instead.
The cracking, clicking snaps of marrow that exudes from it like wastage.
The fat engorging through the tiny weeping holes.
All I can see is the repetitive nature of damage leaking from this abstraction and I feel it in my flesh.
Crawling like tiny bugs, entrapping themselves and eroding their bodies into the hair on my skin.
Uncultivated; I have fallen into the funnel hooked up to the grinder and I feel its body churn me.
It thrusts its cold metal exterior against my lean limbs; ticking.
I try to form a response when all the while this loud heavy machine is echoing against the walls, making my voice utterly meaningless.
Like ground beef I am belched out only to be covered in a plastic film that pushes all the oxygen from it.
I am stuck in this silhouette, shaped as a slab of meat.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
Silence
Heavy, familiar
Crushing, agonizing, choking
tugging at your core, breaking you down just like before
Demanding, entrapping, piercing
Clamorous, turbulent
Noise
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
I love you.
I will never abandon you
Like everyone else.
Never would I hurt you,
Unless you disobey me,
For I own you.
You are my property.
A little teddy bear I cuddle
And squeeze until your stuffing pops
Out from behind your eyes.
Your beautiful eyes.
Watch and observe.
Your body, disgusting
But able to do what I want.
I provide goals for you,
Something to do,
A challenge to accept.
No matter how many times
You cut the cord,
We will forever be attached.
I, as a newborn, a fetus,
Feeding off all that is you.
Or, I, as your mother,
Protecting you & entrapping you
Inside my womb.
Our lives depend on each other.
We are one.
United through your blood,
Your every breath.
I'm your best friend
Loyal and honest.
As long as you have me,
You need no one else.
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 3:33 PM UTC
Dreams Flutter,
twirling inside,
the chimerical mind,
of a dreamer;
my head soaring up,
to meet the clouds,
dancing among the stars.
Being a dreamer,
I am no stranger,
to listening to the lyrics of my heart,
perrsuading me to obtain,
a bouquet of hopes and desires,
that resonates with,the strings of my soul.
"you're impractical",
taunts the voices,
weighing my spirt down,
as self-doubt lingers,
upon my lips,
tasting the return of the bitterness,
a brackish inferiority,
leaving the gulp of confidence,
a difficult pill to swallow.
The shackles around my legs,
forces my choices to decrease,
as the chains of the past,
stifle the ability,
to utilize the clouds,
enveloping my thoughts ,
as stepping stones.
The sight of Intuition,
a gift of the prophets,
allows me to tap into,
talents of Creativity,
skills of persistence,
painting colors,
saturated in intellect,
concealed by a youthful demeanor.
The corset of Thorns,
pricking my torso,
a garment I reuse,
to wear upon my frame,
the suit of torture,
entrapping me within,
a plague of atrocious remembrance.
I return to the physical world,
abandoning my environmental prison,
to bathe in a hot spring of Lotus Flowers,
soothing my exterior form,
as I conquer one element,
of my internal Struggle.
I rise from the plethora,
of Lotus Flowers,
basking in the dawn of my metamorphosis,
gaining ecstasy,
as I arrive one step,
closer to reaching the biggest desire,
of this dreamer.
Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 2:47 PM UTC
*How is it that your cigarette kisses
Are the sweetest I've ever had?
I'm always drawn to you.
My cynosure, you are.
Our dalliance is a thing of lust
But your hands' presence won't wash off.*
*When I brood here in my room,
All I can recall is your becoming face
And the way you lay, oh so comfortably.
Every entrapping thing you do seems so effortless
And I find it difficult to even kiss the thought
Of you having any trouble with eloquence.*
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC
Like thousands of soldiers in parachutes
they come out of the winter sky
One by one hitting the pavement
to claim victory for the season now unfolding
At first they are vanquished almost instantly
a price paid for those leading the charge
However as they begin to accumulate and cluster
a formidable foe is being created
Inch by inch, foot by foot, a fortress is being built
one that can be transformed into an igloo for shelter if needed
Soon the landscape will be covered by a heavy white blanket
left unattended it will run amok overwhelming all
As plummeting temperatures assault those not ready
once open lakes and river pathways no longer escape routes
A battering ram of inclement weather hampering travel
imprisoning those caught unaware of its fury
Snow drifts form obstructing passageways
entrapping those not prepared with an escape route
Waiting out the enemy a defensive strategy now in use
As it surrounds you on all sides building an oppressing presence
High winds and frostbite commingling in the air
that will dominate at the end of the day
Beauty or beast
The conflict yet to be decided.
Andreas Simic ©
Apr 23, 2022
Apr 23, 2022 at 7:19 AM UTC
Corroding off in wreckless control
Repeated lines stretching infinitely in ambiguity
Sharp muscle relaxant mistakes
As we career off the road
Into a ravenous singularity
We are unforgiving, cynical yet synthetically joyous
Quick to pardon
Whipped with a gold leash
Delicate, leaves, Celtic music
Rubik's cubes in our throats
We're ready to let love in, willing
Nova tech, drunk masks and indication
Indignation, we clutch, we fail
Partial to conditions
Stones out of focus
Accelerate
Engines bleed borders
You are the free way
Impotent with quartz remnants
Ruins to our fantasy
You hide history
Covered in my burrow
Braking until necks break & bags burst
Powdered hair, liquid lips
Let's drive home
Go beyond the limit
Break each others bones
And crush our entities
Suffocate on suffixes
Her explanation acquits the doubt
As we appear closer than we may actually be
Industrial stacks stretch towards invisibility
Letting go of their concentrate
Gelatin mind
levitate into connection
Cups turned upside down
Entrapping ego in near vacuum
Aqua ducts bouncing off feline eyes
2 & a 4
Perfect air in a foreign atmosphere
Spinned on axis, ways to conduct
Your supply
Secede madness
Eternal order
Lungs sharply inhale with uncertainty
Hydroplaning your attempts at adultery
Decision was never your thing
Unmoving at every turn
Passion with objects
Reactions flicker between humility
It gives gifts
Your skin melts to the touch
Chocolate in magma
Molten sound deafens drench
Jealous mess, dividend
Hugging and dripping black with stability
Back, holy scripture written with integration
Sealed with treachery, acetate photography
Capturing clear innocence
Boredom and sinfulness
Spiked militant
Pencil drawn neuroses, veil
Bow down to schematics, we're radar
Sonar structure solar
It's all part of the process
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 12:59 PM UTC
I love you.
I will never abandon you like everyone else.
Never would I hurt you,
Unless you disobey me.
For I own you.
You are my property.
Like a little teddy bear I cuddle
And squeeze you until your stuffing pops
Out from behind your eyes.
Your beautiful eyes.
Watch and observe.
Observe your body, disgusting.
I provide goals for you.
Something to do, a challenge to accept.
No matter how many times you cut the cord,
We will forever be attached.
I, as a newborn
Feeding off all that is you.
Or I, as your mother,
Protecting you and entrapping you, inside my womb.
Our lives depend on each other.
We are one.
United through your blood.
Your every breath.
I am your best friend.
Loyal and honest.
As long as you have me,
You need no one else.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 12:49 PM UTC
It’s a bright night out tonight
a bright light like the light of a dead sun
bright enough to read by, to write by
star-studded? five hundred years ago it was;
and now,
while the night breathes in moist magenta
entrapping apartments beneath a wall of
light
is it day or is it night?
it’s red or it’s blue and it comes
still shafts of color, placid and turbulent like the plague
like locusts through the windows, open
like a woman walking in slowmotion
as the night advances in decomposition
and recomposes itself when the clouds lighten slightly
and morning comes wan, not bright
is it day or is it night?
when I was too young to know the moon’s movements
and naive enough to think that the
moon could shine as bright as the sun
I was confused, on a full moon
if it were night or day
and slept in my parents’ bed in uncomfortable doubt
if it were day or night
and now I am in my own bed
and the moon is nowhere to be seen
it’s a wet night in the city
a greenhouse, a science experiment
of its own light, under the magenta clouds, illuminated bright
I know it’s night
but it feels
not that way
feels like neither
night nor day.
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 2:01 AM UTC
he laid me spread
like petals of a rose
in mornings dew
wet...
and gentle fingers
foraged; tormented
pleasure ripple
whimpered aches...
as I delight in his touch
gazing into warm brown
eyes, his sweet torment
begging
hungered panting...
hangs in our space, tingles
run rampant where tongue
glides; breathy sighs spill
flames of want
melding...
naked in blush; lips alight
against wet petals, spread
unabashed for his pleasure
eagerly...
hips ****** flush as tongue
touches, nibbling, tasting
consuming wet essence of me
ahhhh yes...
filling me stroke after stroke
the breadth of me in rhythm,
guiding; gliding flickering
front to back again and again
ecstasies trembles...
wet and wild passion rides,
taking him in deep up down
in out pulsing plunging in
stride
fingertips...
glide across aching breast
taut tips, moaned pleasure
slips between lips each dip
I ride; wielding flamed wetness
tip to shaft as he gasps
and I dismount...
tasting our bemingled wetness;
lingering in mid stride, teasing
veined throb ready to burst
easing, slowly...
tip tongue flickers head, he
tenses; to throat I engulf as
he begs, entrapping me tightly
between his legs
flushed...
his final ****** leaves me
submerged within our heat of
passion
still vibrant...
slides in the softness of me
where lips played, lush inside
my heat; enwrapping me in
the warmth of him
© D A Baugh. All rights reserved
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
Entangle me like vines,
in the entrapping gaze of your verdant eyes.
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
Once again Classy J the definition of a sin,
Deceased kindness that passes down to my kin.
Addiction restricting timeless memories that pour's softly within.
Sadly this is the only time warmth ever greets me,
Can I ever change? Beats me?
So maybe when history gets spun again and again the future has no choice but to be grim?
Fairy-tales woven into white lie's that negate horrific sins.
Minds going crazy that's got me turning into Harley Quinn.
Happily never after reforming heroes, that severs off well intended meanings.
Exceedingly dreary reality fraught with fog that makes it hard to see where we first began.
That lights holy crosses on fire like the ku klux ****
Entrapping lost souls inside a raven claws diadem.
No glad tidings left residing in thee,
When humanity keeps going on killing sprees.
Will we ever be truly free?
Or is freedom just a double edged poisoned sword like a hamlet tragedy?
Fending off hatred but how can one do it peacefully?
For even with civil rights the media still has no problem linching minorities!
So I’m left Watching as nightmarishly thin cows start eating up the healthy ones, who knew one vision of a Pharaoh could become reality?
For when good comes, the bad comes shortly after, so maybe instead of pointless debates we need to implement actions?
In order to have a true happily ever after!
But that all depends on us incompetent humans who divide everything and everyone into class systems.
With phobias turning others inhuman or illegal aliens that are in need for dissection.
Chopping up our own kin or refusing to vaccinate them because some stupid doctor claimed it causes autism.
So, we’d rather **** our children rather than having them associate within a disorderly spectrum.
Hmm. If you ask me that’s pretty ******* dum!
Guess that’s what happens when humanity tries to hard to get to the sun?
Thinking ourselves as God’s that be damning what others have said or done.
Getting offended over everything, man this **** is sure getting tiresome!
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 12:51 PM UTC
I finally let my demons win,
They whisper like giants, patience so thin.
In harbored of darkness I conceded my fight,
I'll no longer actively seek for the light.
My soul starts reclusing, hoping to be unborn.
Thieving shadows, my hopes they scorned.
Emotions raw, exposing myself naked bare,
A fatal step in despair's seductive entrapping lair.
A heart once ablaze, killing in one air blow.
With each pulse, I let the sorrow grow.
No armor left to guard my core,
I welcome Satan and whatever he has in store.
In the dim glow of candlelight, I stand,
Clutching the remnants of who I am.
A ritual of despair begins,
Binding me in the demons' hymn.
Chanting words I scarcely know,
I let the darkness freely flow.
An offering of my spirit's core,
A pact sealed in the silence's roar.
A dagger's edge against my skin,
The bloodied ink, my soul's chagrin.
In this ceremony, I find release,
Anointing wounds, composing this piece.
I scream, I cry, in boundless silence,
This battleground abnegating solace.
But in surrender, there's a peace,
A promise that pain shall soon cease.
I now let my demons take their place,
In the hollow of my heart's embrace.
No fight, no struggle, no facade,
Just my demons sharing a drop of my blood.
Dec 12, 2024
Dec 12, 2024 at 12:31 PM UTC
Shadows
No longer mere figures following me
Developing minds of their own
They seek liberation from the commands of my feet
To fully manipulate me
Roads
Morphs into labyrinths before my eyes
Entrapping me into the darkness
Its unceasing modification disorients me severely
A thriving attempt to hold me captive
Stars
Lose their jaunty sparkle in the tenebrous sky
Turning into prying eyes whose gazes burn my skin
They observe me like a peculiar specimen
I am not alone
Songs
Begin to sound discordant to my ears
Reverberating vociferously across my room
Strident tunes thwack my skull mercilessly
Unable to think
Mind
Fails to function properly
Unhinging the helpless one
Its thoughts are chaotic, and in shambles
Another man is lost
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 10:01 PM UTC
As my mind got flooded
By the thought of you,
My heart bled through ink.
In an attempt to enclose in words
What my soul is desperately conveying,
Entrapping sentiment in each letter
Words vandalized a blank space.
As the array of words continued flowing
Onto the previously empty canvas,
Reading what was previously written
On a long crumpled and recently dried
White tissue with black ink,
None seem to capture what
Was hidden in the ravines for so long.
All I wanted for you to understand
Is that, this right here,
Is the place where you belong.
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 11:14 AM UTC
lying here waiting to wake
may unconscious streams return me home
as a gentle flow succumbs to riverbank
meandering drift through memories of yore
aromas of sweetest royal fern consume
my days now passed for this night I long
to wrap me around a reed buntings song
so far from this storm of rattling gates
destined to tear through a fragile facade
reality she rides late on a January gale
entrapping my dreams in her deceitful fog
riverbank night heed a compassionate plea
o let sleep announce that I may finally wake
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 5:48 PM UTC
his life lies at the bottom of the bottle
a glass body entrapping his soul
one by one, his giggling, gaudy girls
grow up into graceful adults
clinking glasses full of candid celebration
toasting their tranquility into theater walls
as he stands up to take a shaky step
toward the door, toward his girls,
the glass bottle drags him back under
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
Graphite embossments littered the page.
Each groove and curve leaving imprinted scars for
the eye to wonder but is limited to the imagination.
Back and forth, inwards and out, and up and around; but in
essence leading you to where the eye first left off.
The rays of day breaking light coming from the window
besides her has left shadows against her face and neck to disperse perfectly along
through the spine and around the rib cage. Continuing on to the
inward gentle slopes of her lower back as well as her ample arching hips down to
the definition of her legs while descending to the petiteness of her toes.
Compositions flood my thoughts, transpiring one to stain the mind.
Her pastel smooth skin creating curved tones, while her figure gently leads me
around each indention that follow her distinguished yet unremarkable features.
Featureless of defects and abundant in beauty
her form keeping me attentive of the lines I begin to choose and commit.
With one curved stroke, the line implies her seductive form, then another, and another
suggesting the composition as a whole.
Beginning from my sight reverted to my mind down onto the textured paper below;
capturing the pigments so remarkably sharp.
I round brighter tones highlighted by darkened grays to extenuate
the contrasts of the room in relation to the delicacy her physique.
The charcoal and graphite I precisely placed on the picture
plane has my finger tips caressing and imitating the curvatures of her body.
The tones and shapes caught by the eye travel from her onto the crisp white blankets
entrapping her on the firm white bed she lay on. The brightened tones of the window enhance the distinctions between light and dark and heightens the intensity of my interest to
make this compositions one of my best.
Jul 18, 2011
Jul 18, 2011 at 10:53 PM UTC
Sick of waiting for a truth I’ll have to find.
Eating from the inside.
Only your heartbeat calls back to me.
Rustling through the wind
Chanting to the beat of the drum
Calling me
Entrancing me
Entrapping my entirety.
So sick of all the wasted days
Ive used in angst to hear your name
A look at life through a simple lense
Something to which I do not contend
A simple agreement, accepted by fate
A burrowing shadow,
Encrypting my soul
Elating control
Until I’m no more.
At a loss of words
But submerged in pools of throughts
Spewing words up stream
All astray,
so complex yet so far away
Yet connected through time
In such a simple way
My life is but a silly rhyme
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC