"excitable" poems
His strong hands gripped me everywhere, he knew my sensitive places.
My eyes shone due to my intense obedience and humiliation.
I started to perspire in an excitable way.
My legs began to shake.
I could feel his affection through his endless kiss.
I felt intimidated.
He loved me.
I can still feel his indomitable hands around me, he knows my vulnerable spots.
My eyes glisten from my potent passiveness and embarrassment.
I break out in nervous sweats.
My legs are trembling.
I can feel his devotion in an infinite smack.
I feel terrorized.
He's attached to me.
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 6:15 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
Peevish
agitable
skittish
sensitive
impulsive
overzealous
neurotic
anxious
touchy
explosive!
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
I am a typical Aries,
Ruled by fire
Impulsive
Passionate
Excitable.
If you fall in love with me,
I will protect you
I will love you
Endlessly...
Unless I get bored.
I am an Aries
Take me as I am.
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 1:29 PM UTC
Oh noble exclamation mark!
I expel! I exclaim!
Oh most excitable exclamation mark!
Oh, to see you
sends blood racing
in my veins!
Oh, I love you
once!
twice!!
and I love you thrice!!!!
- oh, was that four times????
Oh, be not jealous
I brought in your
distant relative
the crooked and deformed question mark
for I not only love you
!
!!
!!!
!!!! –
but I love you forever, most excitable exclamation mark!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!.......and forever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!..............
Oh noble exclamation mark!
I expel! I exclaim!
Oh most excitable exclamation mark!
Oct 9, 2010
Oct 9, 2010 at 11:28 AM UTC
I'm learning to lay awake
with myself,
Peaceful and warm I
can be with me,
Caring for myself like I do my chilli plant,
Testing my own leaves for lack of nutrition,
Or love,
Cheap, clean sheets beneath my hands and calves
Light the wick.
Colin Meloy's liquid voice falls
like hail,
Excitable under my skin.
So as I watch the light move across white ceilings I can clear
and muse
and breathe.
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 2:59 PM UTC
My teacher once asked
a short simple question.
She had asked,
"What do you want to be?"
Raised arms answered her query.
Open palms each belonging to excitable children.
Wide little eyes looked up at her.
Hands began to flail in the air...
Ever so hopeful of being chosen.
So that they could voice their aspirations.
So that they could begin to share.
One by one,
they each was given the opportunity.
Turn by turn,
boastful were some
while others spoke quiet and shyly.
Then the teacher stopped short.
Not before expressing her delight.
She was in awe of such young minds...
Having had such great wings
to eventually take flight.
Then she explained...
What she had initially meant.
Confused looks all around including me.
She rephrased the question,
*"What kind of person...
Do you want to be?"*
There was silence.
No arms shot up to meet the subject.
I don't recall having raised mine,
but I remember telling the teacher...
An answer (I was confident), she wouldn't expect.
I stood at my desk,
proud and tall...
And told the teacher
that I wished to be a person...
Well loved by all.
She smiled and I did too.
I felt it was a good answer.
She nodded to signal for me to take my seat again.
She paused before speaking,
and not a moment later.
She said,
*"That would be nice.
To be loved by all.
But that's close to impossible.
A big wish for someone so small."*
I had heard her words clearly...
However I didn't understand.
My brows furrowed...
And I was deep in thought...
Still I couldn't comprehend.
28 years later...
Here I sit,
looking back to that time in the past.
How time flies...
It simply ticked away...
All too fast.
Till just then I was still that boy...
Who tried hard to please.
I wanted to prove that it wasn't impossible.
You can be loved by everyone,
and you can do it with ease.
But now I have learnt.
Now I have found meaning
and understanding in my teacher's wisdom.
It took me a while but...
I know now...
That wishes and reality don't work in tandem.
You can choose to care and love,
everyone you see.
But to expect everyone to love you the same...
Is sheer
impossibility.
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 9:12 AM UTC
Ladies of the Net… A warning to male adolescents everywhere…
“Hi Honey….I just got matched with your profile”… At least that’s what I think it said.
Brilliant I thought because I’m available and life round here is, well…it’s dead
“I’m looking for an experienced guy who’s good in bed… been round the block, but not the clock…
One with plenty of experience and a huge…err…appetite…
for hooking up instead of these inexperienced boys…
They’re all excitable, probably all over too quick…
need someone with poise reserve and a twelve inch errr… Libido?… ego?
Click my pics kiddo and let’s get it on… you Stud!… Well I would!
****** hell! I’m overwhelmed but let’s not peak too soon…
There’s loads of stuff coming in as Spam that would probably make us all swoon.
So check it out…without fail, “eeeh!” They’re all there - these ladies of the net - they crop up daily -
Sheila Blige… Tanya Hide… Mandy May, Bette Sheedus, Lovinia ****
I’m not sure if these are their real names... But - Phew -
with things like this going on round here we could all get *******
She says she’s just round the corner, you know like Sompting, Steyning, LA (that must be Littlehampton)… Southwick…Little Haven Halt, Portslade.
We could meet in a lay-by and we’ll get laid… just an innocent little escapade.
It won’t be my fault if you miss this chance…
Just try it - I’ll handcuff you to the bed and lap dance.
Click on my pix, big boy, they all beckon.
Take a closer look at these sonny boy - now what do you reckon?
Well, you’d have to say they do look very alluring in the taster…
so why not just click...
to the next page… see the site… don’t waste-ya time…CLICK!
****** hell! The screen’s gone blank…
now I won’t even be able to have a ____
Knock, Knock, Knock!
"Kevin!!!?"..."Mum?" "Is that you?" "Yes Mum!… Everything’s OK!… I’m just turning out the light… G’night!"
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 5:45 AM UTC
Crush:
An intense but usually short-lived infatuation.
Fantasizing about the relationship that could happen.
Shy:
Timid, easily frightened away.
Although the wanting to just say hey.
Wonderwall:
Someone you find yourself thinking about all the time, the person you are completely infatuated with.
But the wish for all the shyness to disappear is still here.
Nervous:
Highly excitable; unnaturally or acutely uneasy or apprehensive.
The wanting to meet but still playing defensive. Accommodated by umm, uhh, ummm.
Hello:
Used to express a greeting, answer a telephone, or attract attention.
Hi, umm. Don't blow it, don't blow it.
Hi! I think you're cute, pretty, adorable, beautiful, lovely, gorgeous. Would you like to go on a date?
Date:
A social appointment, engagement, or occasion arranged beforehand with another person.
She said yes.
Happy:
Delighted, pleased, or glad, as over a particular thing.
She is not just a thing, she is my everything. She makes me very happy.
Love:
A profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.
It's a four letter word that can have a million meanings and yet only one.
Marry:
To take as an intimate life partner by a formal exchange of promises in the manner of a traditional marriage ceremony.
I take you to be my wife to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us apart, and this is my solemn vow. I love you.
You:
You mean so much,
Yet I do not have a definition.
Because you always seem to surprise me.
No words in this dictionary can describe your overall beauty.
Amazingly, I'm at a lost of words.
Beautiful:
The dictionary's crush;
A person who is reading this.
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 9:09 PM UTC
Infectious laugh,
Untamable anger,
Excitable stories,
Well-hidden anxiety.
Misdirected blame,
Unwarranted shame.
Blue eyes.
Brown hair, red hints; I wish I could have seen it with sun tints.
Smiling...
After work.
In the middle of the night.
In the mornings.
Saturday afternoons.
Rushed calls or
A day’s worth of together.
Nightmares as dreams,
Nights without sleep.
Coffee, drugs, caffeine.
Scars.
Hopelessness.
Grief.
Aspirations.
Full of life.
Childlike heart. Easily torn, but never taken apart.
An eye for nature’s beauty.
An eye for art.
One for me, occasionally.
Insecurity. Arrogance.
Compassion. Detachment.
Weak yet enduring.
Unmoving yet learning.
Intoxicating.
Aggravating.
A liar struggling to lie.
A suicide debating to die.
Lustful gaze.
Manipulative ways.
Who were you
And why couldn’t you stay?
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 4:06 PM UTC
1
Well, I've dated a few guys, sure -
you know, being Ms Hyphen
I'm sociable, like to bring people together
that sort of thing
So I dated that guy Exclamation Mark
and what the hell, he was shouting all the time!
He's just too excitable, not my type
Sure, Comma was more sedate
but a little too slow for me, you know
So I gave guys like Inverted Commas and Parenthesis
a try - but hell, they were always trying to frame me
So I like said to myself, maybe I'll try someone else
from the Mark family, and woooh! - this guy
was like questioning me all through dinner
and I was like thinking to myself:
*What's with this guy? Where does he work?
At the NSA or FBI or what?*
I guess you know who I'm talking about
Well, I dated all the other guys too
like Semi-Colon and then Colon
but you know, one liked to separate;
and the other was always out
with his smartphone
listing things I said
2
So I nearly gave up dating when I thought -
*Hey what about Dash?
That's a dashing fellow surely
and he seems to be just like me*
(except he is - as is apt for a guy - long)
but he was just like Semi-Colon -
always separating people
You got to bring people together
in this world, you know;
that's what this world needs
Yes, I dated Full Stop too
but he was always getting me to stop
and besides, he said his alias was Period -
now that freaked me out, you know
*Hey, what kind of guy walks around
with a name like Period?*
I'll tell you like who's the worst guy to date, OK -
that's Apostrophe:
O listen darling, was he ever so possessive!
3
Well, I'll give my dating career a break -
maybe come next year,
I might try dating 2nd of February
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 6:34 AM UTC
For fuck's sake.
How did we end up here again?
The soothing, annoying word flickers on my blue-back lit screen and I am ****** back to the tumultuous moment when once upon a time it yelled bipolar.
And here we go again.
My thoughts flick, flit, floss between teeth made for biting and real meat. They need plaque, collection, to grow and accumulate mass to progress. But there my flicking thoughts go, flossing.
I've always struggled focusing, but I just got excitable, got manic, and it would solve everything. Mania was my monster, my red bull, and now that its sated and off to Wonderland...
I'm left here, face to face, with a twitchy white rabbit wondering why I would ever think to use my pretty little head when its such a good projectile into the sky.
I had always wondered, in those whispering nights, when my hands couldn't stop moving and my head wouldn't shut up, if something was wrong. But it was silly, I had two already, full of worry then full of poles. Couldn't be another, could it?
Of course, a Grace of Wonderland always knows best, and here we are. Another bottle to drink to keep me sane.
I wonder if my fingers will thank the capsules when I might stop biting them? Or my toes? Is this why my toes always twitch and dance, why they stand center-stage in so many of my mild fantasies? After all these years, the divas that my lower digits have become may not appreciate losing their star titles.
I just want to be fine. I want to figure out how to move beyond all the strange misfires in my head. How did I survive so long without a notice? Inflates my ego to know I should have been caught by now.
Guess just like the White Rabbit, despite my widgets and worries, no one can stop me from running when I'm madly, absolutely, refusing to be late.
Graces only knows to fight with fire and fists. Tis the state of my Wonderland, and perhaps now things will only get better.
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 7:08 PM UTC
I stand in your eyes
Looking out for the whole world to see
With the fabric of death staring at me
Its just you and me
On the edge of heaven
Mending distances as we begin
Ghastly gray hours littered my ears
Intensly intrusive and ******
The shadows spill stringently
Stamping the sky with feelings of insufficiency
The bitter breeze dreamers, protesting for peace
Beyond all countries and downward dreams
We heave our head, heart, and soul
The handfuls of gestures surrender the way
A taut twine traveled behind
With waves coiling and bending my mind
Dying eyelashes recaptured my memories as they danced upon my face
A once swollen spirit is a ripped fragment away
Consenting with out my say
Death burst your core
The life of limbs, once excitable and strong
A strong windswept set my ambivalence at bay
As I lay trembling, Soft secrets are told
Relief from bottomless sufferings
Loved ones long lost reunited with me
My tounge has say much to say as words sail
As the wisps of heaven begin to show me the way
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 1:32 AM UTC
Your moldable heart
So many times over
Lit up and torn apart
Like a mined diamond
Dug up and brushed off
So quit your whinin'
You're just lucky
Someone like me came along
I'm way ahead of you
Mentally, emotionally and physically
You're a pretty sad excuse
For a person in such a situation
And there's nothing you can do
But listen and soak up information
Keep playing the sponge
And someday you might get the correct formation
I hold the strings
Don't you see or are you that blind?
There are so many things
To be done, to be had
But you just hold on and take to the clings
And I can't say I'm appreciative
Of the fact that you can't seem
To be anything but argumentative
I'm a fuckin' gift
Something shiny in the fog
That comes to give you a lift
You're nothing but the bump on that log
Who goes and makes a shift
When she hears a little something questionable
Through your heart I will sift
And by the end your arteries will be bendable
Your heart of clay
Lays lazy and easily excitable
When I docked in your bay
It looked like saving you was viable
But I refuse to stay
I regret to inform of the incoming storm
But I must decline your invitation to play
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 11:41 AM UTC
Spot the Dog
A man's best friend,
A playful little fluff whose
Love knew no ends.
A wild and crazy pal,
His paws dug trenches in the yard
And his saliva carved deep canals.
An excitable little pest,
He once bit my mother, but
I still thought he was the best.
A conniving pain in the ***
He always too extra care to make
Sure the carpet stained of grass.
A real sack of ****
He died the way he lived.
He choked on his spit.
Good riddance. I'm getting a cat.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 9:37 PM UTC
not only is beauty supposedly
in the eye of the beholder, it
also reportedly emerges from
an intangible depth within
okay, then, so that means ugliness
comes similarly from within,
or doesn't it, baby?
so then, ugliness must begin and end
in the pit of your stomach, and in
the words that pass the tongue
on the exit from your ugly mouth
so then, ugliness must begin and end
in the nerves buried in sleeves, and in
the actions that slip the heart
sneaking past the brain, and vice versa.
on the grab from your dead hands.
on the grab from your dead hands.
not only does it tend to work
unlike the excitable pretend it works,
the implication is, that half of your
worthiness is linked to the mercy
of the mass effect.
as for a thought, a dream,
an intent, an outcome,
a vision, a nightmare,
a hermit knows the good folk
permit attractiveness to good lines.
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 10:27 AM UTC
For Caira Doheny, My Irish Muse
"Chameleons feed on light and air:
Poets' food is love and fame."
An Exhortation, st. 1 (1819)
Percy Bysshe Shelley
------------------------------------
Let us intimate a Poetic Competition,
Tween an Irish lass,
and a New York Jew,
I shall serve, and you,
You shall return
A contest:
Our tongues, our racquets,
Across the table,
The words shall bird fly,
Across the net,
Couplets and haiku
Shall smash and whistle
The winner will be the one
The God of Poetry
Accepts for permanent servitude
You **** my poetic soul forever
With the currency of praise genuine,
Authentic, flowing and fulsome,
Awarding me the Medallion Doheny
Cash value, a mere Irish penny,
But to the poet, the food of love and fame
Genetic to your nature,
You exhale word rhythms,
Excitable and interrupting,
Speech free flowing,
Tho I am of the People of the Book,
You, by birthplace,
Are unfair poetry advantaged
All your utterances
Are action heroes of the heart,
And I fail miserable to capture
The poetry you breathe out
Your Irish praise me awarded,
Tis now the
Standard and the Curse
This benighted amateur
Must now Prometheus nurse
One day in Dublin, shall we meet,
In a country where poetry is the
Iron in the people's blood
In a particular pub
Opposite we will sit,
You, a cowboy by adoption,
Me, the dastardly banker
You know the pub,
I, with my pint,
You, with your diet coke,
And the only lingua Franca
Shall be darts of poetry
In a language our own,
A collective work we will weave,
A blessed unity, a single tongue now,
Lilting, singing, bespoke
We will let the singer-poet laureate**
Of the island we now share, moderate,
Over his piano man's gin and tonic,
As we do as Yeats instructed:
Between us,
"A line will take us hours maybe;
Yet if it does not seem {but}
a moment's thought,
our stitching and unstinting
has been naught"
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 11:58 AM UTC
Early this morning,
not quite the shilling,
my hair rustled
like a recent killing
of something black and once alive,
big black
Lucifer
dived at my head.
We tussled for five
in the warmth of my bed,
he pawed my hand like a prize
and his yellow eyes
were electric
and light.
He likes to fight.
His tail beats black against my navel.
He plays under the sheets like an excitable angel.
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 12:08 PM UTC
Excitable, aren't they
Those nerds in mid range suits
Dressed from head to toe in lies
The Emperors new clothes
Hail the red top jesters
Mocking democracy
And to think brave souls
Died to vote
To vote
For something other than this
They died for more than this
Yet they remain alive
And voters...
Dead
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 6:15 PM UTC
Most people look like they wouldn’t survive a storm.
They are flimsy,
Full of half-truths and half-meanings,
Half-substance that will surely wash away in a good downpour.
I am always spilling raindrops,
Thus I am dangerous to the masses.
It was snowing the night I felt myself
Slipping
And looking at you truly for the first time—
Not a blizzard,
Just a gentle dusting,
Flakes drifting lazily in the excitable wind—
And I assumed that you,
Like everyone else,
Were just dazzled by dreamlike sparkle,
But would flee when the real storm came.
Your presence was a comfort,
So for weeks I played weatherman,
Tried to hold back inclement weather
Lest I wake to find you gone.
But Nature is inevitable,
So I found hurricanes for days.
I’d been painting
Love
On my lips since pre-school,
But you were the first to press it there
And make it stick.
You were the first to see the storm gathering
And stay until the clouds cleared,
Though my ears were mad with thunder
And my limbs were sparking lightning
And all my world was dark and cloud and sheets of pouring rain.
Slick with raindrops,
You pushed the bangs out of my eyes
And said that all was well.
Jul 8, 2012
Jul 8, 2012 at 10:58 PM UTC
Maybe we can go back
Try undoing the past
Where is the thrill of
Anticipation?
In the last grade of
Elementary
They allowed us
To sign our
Virginal names in
Blueorblack ink
I was ten, I
Had already written
My script then
I did it in
Permanent pen
There was no time to erase
Mother wasn't excitable
some days, she was
She tore up my script
My script after script
**Every idea
To her
Just ****
And I'd begin
Again in pen
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 8:27 PM UTC
I'm a little too
Excitable
Or at least
That's what I'm told
Too positive
With my glass half full
Too happy, too many
Smiles, I know
I'm too naive
Too blind, unaware
To know what
Life's about
I'm too busy
Floating on air
To remember
The pain of the ground
You think I don't know
The pressure and strain
Of the final string
Of a splitting rope?
I've ripped, I've snapped
I have no less pain
But one thing I do have
Is hope
Well my glass isn't half full
Its overflowing
My rose colored glasses
Don't leave my eyes
I am not too much
Of anything
Except too good
At finding where hope hides
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 1:07 PM UTC
The aftermath of a supposed good time remain untouched.
Every ****** up flaw for none to cherish and all to judge.
It was a storm of my life one still for which I bare the scars.
You destroyed my existence to show me a life I now cannot from which fathom a departure.
Yet through addictions we clung to reality as we filtered are own ******** without a care.
Track marks and worn makeup sweetheart the road still cant realize tomorrows embrace.
I see the places now with trained eyes the places we died in self to form a bound of hellish demise.
Sick in love as tortured in soul.
Can I ever clean your burden for which none may ever allow me to forget.
Such passion in that highest of lows we were the nights children now simply we are the
sunrise of a far off delusion.
I saw your depth turn to emptiness as the black hole logic did swallow us all.
It was hell knowing but far worse trying to remain a secret of no true surprise.
I remember when last we sat cold from the night but warm from the fix.
It was the darkest hours.
And forever you a favorite blemish of mine.
now I exist the outcast welcomed inside.
A excitable addict amongst the upper class swine.
There's no difference in the rats simply a title and a ******** ego to try to tell yourself
you made it out alive.
Never believe the ******** they tell you.
My scars now faded hidden from view.
Still traces remain to remind me there's no difference between me and you.
It always cold even in my vices warmth.
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
I want to be there...
*When the sun would shine
upon the ready sand -
and presents us gold.
When it spears
into the excitable ripples
of the water -
and gives us emeralds.
When it caresses
sun-hungry skins -
and gives them back
their lives.*
.
May 27, 2020
May 27, 2020 at 12:02 PM UTC
I love you.
I'ts been about 3 years since i said this,
at least unabashed.
Doesn't mean i love you any less than I ever have,
Fact i love you more than i ever have.
Among the leathery ripples of complexion,
upon old face.
Lie two young, proud, loyal eyes.
Pained eyes.
A life of breaking your back, hungry and hysterical working up sweats in the rainy morning hours of another somber English day just to bring home the bread to your family.
Leather worn hands, complete with callus.
Grey seasoned hair
Anger like a temperamental furnace.
and laughter that could fill the largest room.
Incandescent kindness;
With a heart the size of a boulder.
Hours spent in the same room with nothing to talk about, a simple nod of acknowledgement, comforting smile across the room.
Nothing to say and no need to say it.
Days of my youth spent in awe of your presence, excitable days, exhilarating times spent on adventures, and the phantasmagorical fairy tales you'd tell me as we ran through the forests.
The giants have clearly just let as we can see their footprint. stricken with fear, staying close to you father and son we conquered the lands. two great hero's, we roamed the local forest and in that moment for me it was indeed a kingdom.
And now i'm older and on my own voyage, still i remain in awe of your presence.
Venerable father,
I love you,
it's been three years since We've said this,
at least unabashed.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 1:18 PM UTC