"euphemisms" poems
I’ve been reading a bit about positivity, this past hour.
I have been trying to project what I’ve read, mentally, in scenarios where I’m under stress to see how things work out.
I couldn’t make peace with the fact that sometimes letting go and keeping quiet is the best course of action.
That sometimes, just sometimes, shutting up and letting things happen is the only way to get over a bad situation.
The fallout can be dealt with. The one percent of our animal nature within helps us rebuild every time.
I can feel an uneasiness settling, making its home in the center of my being.
Writhing in malcontent and uneven distaste, counterbalanced hatred for this feeling I’m riddled with. Where is the good in all this?
Is that what forgiveness is? Swallowing the bitter pill? Turning a new leaf?
Among other euphemisms for being a **** up.
Something that’s very hard to do.
Two minds too blind to make themselves up. Nothing is accomplished in confusion.
One kills while the other cries.
Despair and hope side by side, waiting for one to rise and the other to fall.
Positivity is elastic, it can be stretched to fit over what you deem right.
It can be mistaken for a rush of energy, a thirst for life, a sense of achievement, an inebriated night.
All the while festering, brooding, decaying inside, a heart of sadness, that once did smile.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 5:13 AM UTC
Sanctuary is here; hiding in plain sight
Bedimmed beings step into the light
Stumble upon you may; hear us you might
All is welcome; no guard dogs that bite
Step inside, matters not armed or unarmed
Come as you are; steady or alarmed
Sip and drink from our collective fountains
Rest your eyes on our self painted mountains
Come on close and meet us all
Under shady trees or beyond the knoll
Some of us don masks or hide behind names
Some come naked but we're all one and the same
See our lives, spun from heavy layered bales
Woven intricate telling fantastic tales
Weavings we let fly, to catch each other's fables and stories
We admire them for what they are and the seed each carries
Be aware... Should you not understand
We may bear similar signatures but wear different brands
We, the people, trade in euphemisms
Broken sentences and long forgotten idioms
We are weavers, dreamers and scribes
Pouring here the outside world we imbibe
We are unguarded hearts speaking in metaphoric tongues
We provide safe haven for bruised souls with punctured lungs
So welcome traveler, shed your load
You might like it here in our coveted abode
Revel in the monochromatic sights you see
Where freedom of thought is revered in this here Sanctuary...
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 2:12 AM UTC
No option, but to be perceived
Violent, Aggressive, Irrational
Identity becoming an other
Words of malice, they mystify
Words of ignorance, they vilify
Subverting consciousness and articulation
Our identities, fighting to be
Autonomous landscapes
Hoping in anticipation for liberation
No real notion of we or me
Implicating it's inhuman to be foreign
When they represent as much of we and me
Scandalizing alternative identities as subversive
Advancing erasures in favor of hegemony
Propaganda favoring what is most white
Amelioration for the obliteration of cunning identity?
No more cooperation, ****** the euphemisms
That cover up, and help justify marginalization
Our identities, fighting to be
Autonomous landscapes
Hoping in anticipation for liberation
Time to **** ****** massacre eurocentric ideology
We preach no violence, being not them, just we
But cannot request to be free, must tear it out by force
Eurocentric ideological pandemic inhabiting, inhibiting the soul of mankind
Unthinkable abomination concealed in the veil of appropriated minds
Necessitating exorcism for the incarcerated conscious mind
When we completely violate mandates of eurocentric ideology
When only we appropriate our own identity
When we all nullify the color of our skin
As profanity or inadequacy
Our identities, fighting to be
Autonomous landscapes
Hoping in anticipation for liberation
Will be awaiting purgation from alienation
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 6:25 PM UTC
I remember when the chemo failed,
your family asked the doctors "isn't there something you can do?"
they turned to me, like I was guilty,
and said "no, you're wrong, this can't be true".
"palliative care" "hospice" "comfortable" euphemisms fell from my mouth,
they tasted bitter like acid and lies--
I wanted to scream and cry and tear my heart out.
At night I lay in an empty bed,
and when I sleep I dream,
I wake up next to a body bag,
my mouth too terrified to scream.
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 10:14 AM UTC
Eratic Plastic Dysphemistic Euphemisms
the rain in Spain
falls mainly on the plain
while the dome in Rome
is a place to call home
and the gazoot in Beirut
is in cahoot
with the Neo in Reo
and his brother Theo
and Levi in Shanghai
munches blueberry pie
the roast on the coast
has been burnt like the toast
and my frog on the log
barks like a dog
its a pity how gritty
it is in ** Chi Minh City
never challange Mr Wong to play ping pong
in Hong Kong
or smoke a bowl with a mole
in old town Seoul
or the gendarme will storm
the crowd in Pittsburgh
Gomer LePoet...
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 11:33 AM UTC
~
*If I am treason,
it’s you I kiss.
If I am desertion,
it’s you I blame.
If I am persuasion,
it’s you I rob.
And when we kiss dutifully,
smile in simile,
just whose road of promise
will it be?
If I am steep,
it’s your future I will not climb.
If I am winter sky,
it’s your way out beclouding.
If I am compromise,
it’s your eyes that hold no conviction.
And when we drift apart in apathy,
evade with euphemisms,
just whose road of decline
will it be?
If I am consternation,
it’s your dream driven away.
If I am turbulent sea,
it’s your ship high upon waves of doubt.
If I am fruition,
it’s your tomorrow that is sunk.
And when we drink to this tragedy,
get drunk on alliterations,
just whose road of surrender
will it be?*
~
May 6, 2021
May 6, 2021 at 12:58 PM UTC
Millions of men with matchsticks
Brought their heads to
The oceans of kerosene
********** forged their existence
And they weren't able to retaliate
Thousand whispers of desire
Of living a peaceful life
Echoed among the mountains
And between the valley of death
Days were enumerated and artifacts collected
The stories seemed to be a passage full of euphemisms
A dystopian atmosphere took over their utopian views
The matchstick was struck
And humanity collapsed.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
My pen is like a candle
Always waiting to ignite
Inspired by fighting to love
And by simply loving to fight.
It produces profane compositions
It's a verbal "finger" in the air
Teeming with sarcastic euphemisms
While claiming never to care.
Now, my notebook is like a canvas
A naked ****** if you will
Seeking blemish, seeking substance
Openly desiring a thrill.
My ink bleeds across paper
Creating spark and catching flame
It is words like these, at the end of time
That will carry on my name.
(April 26, 2008)
Jun 27, 2010
Jun 27, 2010 at 10:26 PM UTC
Euphemisms are a wonderful thing
you can't deny the joy
such pretty lies bring
"Can I just let go?"
Is me saying
I'd very much like to die
But to you
it may mean
I need to cry
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 9:53 AM UTC
I told them, “I don’t feel sorry for Robin Williams.
He lived it. Coke-fueled, bearded trickster of ******
Well traveled and well versed, raging into worlds
Physical and ephemeral, like a ghostly bull
Goring mortals to unfeel the estoques
Sunk deep into his vital corpse.”
I had a friend who blew his brains out
While his parents were watching tv in the living room
And another who rented a room at the Marriott
Then hung himself off the shower-rod
Both early 20s
You won’t see them on the big screen
Or hear their witty banter on interviews
Chic celebs won’t eulogize them
On “Extra”, “TMZ”, or “Access Hollywood”
No 2 minute montages
At award shows, while tuxes and gowns float
Clapping in ovation behind the shimmering façade
Of golden statues
They got a few lines in an obituary, in A7
Those who knew them will speak in hushed euphemisms
No one daring to whisper “suicide”
As if it’s the ****** Mary of deaths
Like walking under a ladder, or breaking a mirror
The mirror containing, like smoke, the future
The jagged shards reflecting moonlight faintly
I love them all the same
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 7:14 PM UTC
I go about things the English way
With careful consideration
And euphoric euphemisms
Ever so polite on the outside
While internal I’m feeling infernal
And the only reason why I can
Is because I’m a ****** English gentleman
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 2:50 PM UTC
We played with words
and peddled euphemisms,
as we hid behind veils.
We had reality
twisted and bent.
We chided and spat
into the winds
of coercing gales.
Jul 20, 2021
Jul 20, 2021 at 9:12 AM UTC
My words have gone walking again.
They got up and left,
slamming the door behind them.
I think it's been a long time coming and a slow spiral downwards;
lately I've been speaking in euphemisms and grandeur that only
I can make sense of
(maybe my jokes just stopped being funny to everyone around me).
My words have gone walking again.
They slipped out the open window,
caught a ride west and said,
"She'll be fine on her own. She always is."
Third times the charm,
my words have gone walking again.
They took off on a horse with no name
and hopped a train to Clarksville.
Alphabet soup has come to life,
but not with my choice in spoonerism.
My head's not quite in my hands,
but my shoulders are keeping it hinged.
Come back soon, my mouth feels empty
and my tongue has no flap nor tap left without you.
May 12, 2011
May 12, 2011 at 10:43 PM UTC
I can see the weakness
in my own words- their
weary Translucence,
even as I
wind my euphemisms and parry
****
snip the comma off,
attempt to catch my thoughts
before venom leaks out
of my em-dash.
but I can't.
Won't.
take back any
noun I flung
And So.
as you
walk down the hall
I see my adjectives
Just-
dripping off your
neck
rolling down the corridor
fat, black
and innocuous
and somehow feel
that I have
completely failed
at English.
Jun 30, 2012
Jun 30, 2012 at 12:50 AM UTC
Sounds rather risqué, right?
Like an unmentionable body part.
Not a person you might care about.
No the other half of your heart.
Not my partner or sweetheart
Not my husband or my lover.
Any of those titles above
Will appropriately cover.
No, they call me your friend,
Your little buddy, your ‘thing’.
That last one I always suffer
As particularly insulting.
But, not my watchacallit,
My whatever, or such euphemisms.
They hit me like less than kind
And disapproving colloquialisms.
I mean, how would you feel
If I referred to your wife like that?
Calling her your sidekick or
Something like a stray cat?
I have no problem with asking
How my honey is doing today.
After all, that’s really who he is.
He’s my sweetheart every day.
So, think for a moment, please
Before you begin to speak.
Your lack of sensitivity can
Only make you look weak.
Just because we didn’t choose
The path you chose to take
Doesn’t mean you’re better than I
So, give this bigotry stuff a break.
He’s my partner and sweetheart
He’s my husband and my lover.
Any of those titles above
Will appropriately cover.
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
I feel like God hates me
Or stopped caring
Ceased to provide
Left for good
And now I'm left here to straighten myself out for better or for worse
I've met people who feel the same way
Who surprisingly have the pincushion audacity to put all the blame of their misfortunes in the absence of the omnipotent one
I just feel abandoned they feel betrayed
Maybe he makes a chump change commission on every life he guides to a certain point then leaves them stark naked at the haunting hour
I know all the preachers and secular teachers lie through their teeth
They win the merit-less hoax award by a landslide
They have no consideration of for the people they mislead or the ramifications their poisoned sermons causes
They use emotionally charged language to increase the parish's numbers
They're terrified of God, they live in fear
And see carpal tunnel as a punishment for ************ and wish blindness upon all those who partake
There is shared consensual hiraeth between those who have been through an invasion of privacy and the trespassing of private property
They want their rights and their guns back
They want their personal space
They retreat to their happy place
Let's go back to the Pantheon of lactose intolerant divine idols
Of epileptic godheads
Who's line of work is about incubated pie pans
Can you make a tutorial that summarizes the resounding reduction of options using nothing but euphemisms?
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
I
I feel like my toes
are walking along sandpaper and as they
wear on and on
it's that much more difficult to tell
if I'm building callouses
or growing
tender
II
I haven't found
the slant of light I've been searching for
but I must say
the way I see when the sun
cuts my gaze at dusk
must be close
enough
III
I'm chasing something
either inches or miles beyond my grasp
all I know is
when I'm turning circles dreams
look an awful lot
like my own
tail
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 3:06 AM UTC
I say, come out here and smell the air
just know the truth, it's no proverb
we'll walk in the same direction
an alliteration of great affection
let's become someting else
a new letter in the alphabet
one not needed but sure to bet
euphemisms to this bland world
a hyperbole for us to hurl
think and feel and get to see
a portmanteau of you and me
it may be a cacophony
enjoying the sun in a balcony
but in the end its all like this
no order in front, below or above
a sweet oxymoron
individuals falling in love
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
To you
I want to be an open book
want you to pick me up, dust me off, take another look
But my pages haven't been traced in ages
not by fingertips or by faces
open me up
I don't care if you have to crack my spine
If that's what it takes to see through this cover o mine
then snap me open
and lace your fingers, let traces linger
over the calligraphy carved into my core
match the curve of my vertebrae
with questions that ask me if i am my metaphor
I have a plethora of pages, an abundance of euphemisms
inscribed into my essence, in a sense
I AM words
words that are not satisfied with being scanned
words with a hunger to be studies, syllogized
words that wish to be read over and eaten
by ravenous eyes and enfamished minds
Scour the syllables ensconced in me
etch and re-etch them with your pen
hold the precious print close to your skin
be a hungry page, and let the ink sink deeper in
I'll be a book and you be my scribe
look so close at my words that you lose sight of the divide
seek and discover
my heart inscribed
in every letter
every line
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 3:55 PM UTC
left cup runneth over/
right cup half empty/
if I add my left cup size to my right cup size what will I get/ DD + D = DDD/I've never been great at math/but this is no/miscalculation/
I am 36 DD confined to a 36 D bra/
(D)Disgorges over the underwire/
D--you flaccid beach ball/I wish I could reinflate you/part my mouth around your nipple/and/
breathe/
no one can tell/unless I wear a tight bodice/then/you are/obnoxiously evident/
I am afraid of introducing you to my future boyfriend/will he still want to undress me/will he still want to make love to me/
will he still want to touch you/
you/
sea urch/in/the palm of my hand/
even I am hesitant to hold you close to me/
you/
strangulated bagpipe/
moulting pompom/ ****
what's that spell/
what's that spel/
what's that spe/
what's that sp/
what's that s/
what's that/
what is that/
what/
who are you/
you/
waning gibbous/
my metaphors wane, also/it turns out there are only so many euphemisms that can be assigned to an/ill-proportioned breast/
itsy bitsy titsy/
you make me/
sad/
you/
teardrop defying the laws of gravity/
or/
is it the laws of gravity that defy the teardrop/so that it never falls into/
place/
I've noticed only/beautiful/things/
fall/
shooting stars/
autumn/
my left *****
Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 5:19 PM UTC
Reverie remember me
Dreams like penitentiary
And they just won’t let me go
It’s my ego, it’s montego bay
It’s hard to say like “anemone”
Another day another Hennessy
and i’m drowning away
Craving useless euphemisms, i’m still lost at sea
Haunted by consumerism, the ghost of Ronnie McD,
Mr. Clown meet mr. Clownfish
Mr. Marty lost his son
So i ain’t the only one actively and theatrically
looking for “no one”
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 12:26 PM UTC
red light flashing on CNBC
hawkish fed and supply chain disruptions
an acid tongue analyst argues via zoom
black gold due to reach the sky
rotation warranted and ISM doomed
transitory or not
the fiery fall colors
are waiting to burst out,
outside, the windows of 30 W 63rd St.
this is where
her heart resides,
reverberating a song
titled ‘stone cold reality’
here,
unconditional love
speaks only the truth,
while the rest
wax eloquent euphemisms.
diligently probing charts of 10-year bonds,
i see her chiseled face with glasses and all,
in the web of shadows
whispering
one and one name alone!
© 2021
Sep 30, 2021
Sep 30, 2021 at 11:18 AM UTC
Gusto affairs spiraled to marooned stairs!!
Amphibious angel,
Where art thou own wings?
Apparent your sanctioning is,
Appointee of marital status!!!
Anthropologist of creations new madness,
Armful arousist!!
Arrogant aspirant!!!!
We are all baggage carriers of used goods,
Bestowed to thy own selves thou ******** of crud!!!!!
Very few bonuses this time around,
For the metropolis hath gone broke and choked!!!
For oil runneth this deliveranth!!!
Bind thy own,
You biggot of brigaded quarters!!!
None to coincide with ,
No cognac love to filleth me with cocoa nestled swifts!!!
Engrossment of shufflers, greasers to seventies sneakers,
Esteemed of high retailer goods!!!
Distinction between euphemisms blame!!!
Highed tops to spindle games,
Atrocious calibrations!!!!
Such tiredness flees the crime felt page,
Who's enraged?
Refute novelties of javahouse breaks,
Wherein assemblers are all members of cafe corner states!!!!
Paxilheads to axlehead drinkers,
Some material like,
Some medicinal thinkers!!!
How much shalt one taketh before his psyche leaves reclusiveness all behind the robust tower!!!!
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC