"guilted" poems
There’s no grace for a sinner here.
In this little white room,
with the little white girls
and the good little boys.
They all cast the stones, cracking
my fragile bones,
and making my dress quite black.
There’s no place for a sinner here.
Where they all look the same,
all out to tame us,
damning us all to hell.
Technicalities steal pride, and
Legality’s crushing tide
forces our dignity to fall.
There’s no room for a sinner here.
You’ll do as you’re told.
Dare ask why and you’re bold;
never to make much in life.
Backsliders are peered on
over pretty noses apparently smeared on,
by simplicity and a bit of wine.
There’s no peace for a sinner here.
Perfect footprints are left over,
those lively blueprints we pored over
through many a midnight candle.
Both innocence and experience
leave them incensed and indignant.
keeping our consciences guilted.
There’s no rest for a sinner here.
Enjoyment is frivolous,
laughter is selfish,
and love must be evil incarnate.
If this is what perfect,
must look like, then I’m perfect-
ly happy with the mess that I’ve made.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 3:53 AM UTC
Seriously??
You're seriously bringing that up now??
After everything you've put us through,
You're going to hold this over my head
Right now??
I can't believe this.
I knew you were childish
But this is reaching new lows
Even for you.
I mean,
Who brings up a mistake I made
Ten years ago when I was legitimately a kid.
I mean,
Who doesn't forgive a child
For not knowing any better
And messing up huge that one time.
But you never were one who fought fair.
You used every ***** trick not in the book
And then some.
You
Lied,
Manipulated,
Schemed,
Guilted,
Violated,
Demanded,
Demeaned,
Degraded,
Beat,
Beat,
Beat,
Me into the ground
Until I believed that
I was shorter than Thumbelina,
And responsible for all the chaos in your life.
Blinded by childish hero worship,
I trusted you when you told me
I was the reason things weren't working out.
But the child is not responsible
For the failed marriage of her parents.
The child is not responsible
For her parents' lack of communication.
The child is not responsible.
But you're still living like I am.
So I'm not gonna take this anymore.
I'm not gonna sit here, stand here, stay here,
And listen to your convoluted messed up reality.
I've got my own life to live.
My own memories to make.
My own mistakes to learn from.
My own family to find and have and raise.
And I sure as hell don't need
Someone like you coming back in
And telling me I'm less than I really am,
Cause the truth is, Mom,
I'm a lot more than you'll ever be.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 11:50 PM UTC
"Life is all about choices."
But I don't recall choosing
The struggles I've had to fight to remain moving and breathing,
The rough path I have no choice but to keep walking,
Or the situations of which I've dealt with
Some I was born into
I don't remember ever being given the option
To choose
Coming home from school, to a household that automatically changes your mood
Forget living, let's call it existing
It's all that's being done under this roof
And it **** sure couldn't be compared to any thing resembling a choice
It's rope and a guilted conscience
That keep me bound to this place that raised me
Fighting against the knots tied abrasively around my feet
Only to be overwhelmed with remorse
At even having thought about leaving
And unknowingly, I strengthen their hold
Life, once again, making choices on its own
They never tell you it'll be easy
So caught up in dramatizing the difficulty of the journey
It's forgotten how easy it is to give up
How easy it is to judge
Constantly looked down upon for things out of my hands
But the number of misdealt cards in the past doesn't control future bets
It just strengthens the desire to win
And that, Life
Is my choice
I've never wanted to roll over and die though I admit there're been mornings I rolled over and cried at the thought of ever getting up again
But I did
Low as rock bottom on the ocean floor but refusing to be swept away with the tide
I stopped living in pointing blame on trivial irrelevant things
And slowly broke the chip off my shoulder that was a mile wide
Though sometimes I still feel it's phantom weight
Taunting me about the things I cant
change
And I never had the choice
I couldn't pick where I came from, how I was raised, who raised me, I can't control the missed opportunities my upbringing has denied me, or the battle scars my past gave me
But finally living instead of existing?
That is my choice.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
I’ll light another cigarette
As the Roman candles burn,
Lace the atmosphere with lamented regret
And tear it away before it slips into the chain of deterioration.
I’ll cut out my tongue
While there’s something left to say
I’ll retain the mystery
Whilst the rest is lost to history.
With adoration as a breaking point
I’ll feel each part of me disjoint
Under the pressure.
I’m just another guilted plague-
Haunting the crypts of nature
When the morality bomb drops
I’ll collect the shards
Use poetry as a Perspex,
Desire as a casket
I’ll build wordless pyres
Under motionless fires
And choke the concordance
With a suffocating breath of ecstasy
Until my lungs are transplanted with ivy
Disrupts the chemistry
As hydrogen tears through me
And we burn under element number one.
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 7:18 PM UTC
The taste of repetition tickles at historical ignorance. The Queen is dead, the Queen, the Queen! Centuries of colonial empiricism brought into the dark corners of the metaverse once again. Heaven is empty. Hell has no vacancy. So why do tyrants swim so well. Why do they sit in their golden, guilted chairs, grinning through their teeth with smug acceptance of their blessings from god? Is the sun still there? Does the ocean still spray waves of destiny? Are the creatures of marginalized society so cruel that they would oppress and condemn as they feel they have been? Was there no lesson? Does man not have its place is history or is the last 100 years enough to **** the need? I hear the mosquitoes buzzing and zooming past my ears. So I gave my blood with reluctant pleasure. This is my new role.
Sep 9, 2022
Sep 9, 2022 at 11:46 AM UTC
She lingers,
She speaks-
She sings in my mind.
For she polishes these windows,
My eyes-
How divine.
Yet sometimes I’m a puppet,
Her precious marionette.
At times I want to cower,
Wish only to forget.
For those words she speaks freely,
Cage me up like a bird.
Making me feel less of a human,
A soul-
How absurd!
Yet even though I’m aware of this poison that she spews-
Sending chills to my bones,
Leaving me internally confused.
For I’m aware of her games,
Yet I’m completely content-
With knowing the consequences,
Still I don’t repent.
Yes, it’s killing me slowly,
Forcing myself not to breath.
Figuratively and relatively-
Casting my body out to flee.
For the porcelain in my sight,
Calls my name like a god.
My body’s screaming for mercy,
In and instant-
She applauds.
Released and freed,
She whispers in my ears.
Slowly and surely,
But she’s housing all of my fears.
For this voice that sang sweetly,
Praising me for the days-
Of vacancy of my body,
Turns my mind into a maze.
See her words create hallways,
One intertwining with the last-
Of memories from my present,
Being guilted by my past.
Leaving me feeling so helpless,
So alone-
So afraid.
But that same voice brings be comfort,
Satisfaction-
For all of those days.
Yes it’s confusing in a sense,
Perhaps even to the eye.
But for me this is a daily,
A struggle of the mind.
See my body is strong,
Yet I feel internally weak.
For these words that I’m writing,
My lips can hardly speak.
Alysia Marie 2018 ©
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
She
A caring heart for an outsider that speak few words with the smile each time
She
A talented guardian with a slight psyche to ease the push of the world
She
Showed a guilted heart for crime she believed she commit when no anger held towards her
She
Saved the giant from self extinction just with the simple glimpse of eye
She
Checked in the battleground to see if the shoulder was down even though no battle was fought
She
A hidden support for my journey in the unknown
She
was the example of bridal I continue to seek
She
The first to hear when I made a comeback
Why was I cowardly? Why did I not speak the truth to my mind? Is it me or just she see the same thing? I would love to take her by my side and show her the legends that is growing, she was one of the ones that helped get the seeds sewn in the right place.
I
a giant that shared not a care for others out of shyness
I
a bear in the eyes in most but a teddy to those that care to look
I
loving to the family youth as I care for them as if they are mine
I
a bit ****** to all that catch a glimpse, but a resort that leads to peace for the elder
How many more battle must take over the skies before I can see the starlight dance once again? Where is that old lake that made the lights dance in her eyes? The trash of mankind has fogged the grounds, making it harder and harder to see the paradise I built.
They
judgemental sloths that never bother for the whol story
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 9:43 PM UTC
The mirrors whisper secrets
Little tidbits of advice
Reflections of a washed up zealot
Being optimistic to pull me from this ever-clenching vice
Torn, tattered, broken, battered
Claimed exaggeration from these hushed murmurs
Self destruction evident, nothing really matters
Tugging on my mind; the zealot’s cheery sermons
“Happiness is key
And the key is universal...”
But no one ever thinks to be
Something ultimately omniversal
A tool to be used constantly for general amusement
A tool to be ignored when no longer needed
A tool to be picked for sadistic abusement
A tool to be deluded, guilted, always twisting to the greeded
And like the calm before the inevitable storm
The tool dances to the tunes the varied user creates
Suicidal pursuit nightly, heart never warmed or warned
Staring back at the zealot is me; whispering dogmatic secrets of self-hatred.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 6:35 AM UTC
Am I doin' alright
Am I doin' okay
Feels like I'm fallin' away
Can't trust myself; don't know what to say
Am I feelin' this way
Because I know what others say
Or because I know that I've strayed from your way
I don't care what others say
Just wanna be okay
Don't wanna stray from your way
Just tell me:
Am I okay?
Am I doin' alright
Don't know why I'm feelin' contrite
Guilted by others
Or knowin' they're right
Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 10:32 AM UTC
guilted into yet another
late evening dog-walk
after too long spent
indoors and weighed down
by endless introversion
trudging an unlit path
free of the imposition
of street lamp
and headlight
with nothing except
those familiar constellations
and a degree of
lunular exposure
to guide our path
despite the cold and
that lingering feeling
of obstinate lethargy
we firmly planted
our mud-caked boots
upon the saturated ground
unstable and clogged
as it may have been
in order to marvel
at that moment
of unexpected perfection
perhaps it was simply
a case of fortuitousness
or sheer coincidence
but to us it seems
the universe is offering
more wishes than we could
ever have hoped for
Dec 18, 2023
Dec 18, 2023 at 1:10 PM UTC
What a strong grip that you've managed to keep so long
How does it still feel in this moment?
Realize now that the grip was too strong
It's gone too numb to feel if it still constricts
Emboldened by the lies that cross the threshold of those lips
You get what I give and I give you what I deserved
You reap what I sow, but I know what you think I don't
Believe me, you know you've deceived me
You seem baffled as I start to roam away from your reach
Wondering where went the chain you've anchored
What of the lessons you've attempted to teach
To keep me guilted, controlled and manipulated
So you can seek all you want from the others you've lied to
You take what I give but I get what you deserved
I've reaped what you sow and you know that I don't
Believe you, I know you've deceived me
So come clean to me
Bare all your guilt
Set me free
You've already abandoned me
Still you don't resist
To continue so disrespectfully
You keep your secrets disappearing
So what is it that you still want from me?
So come clean to me (come clean, come clean)
Bare all your guilt (what you hide from me)
Set me free (your cage no longer fits)
You've already abandoned me
So why should I stay by you?
©July 2024 Neal Emanuelson
Jul 2, 2024
Jul 2, 2024 at 6:40 PM UTC
Gavel in hand
and eyes that cast shadows
on my face
Who are you?
The world is full of double standards
unforgiving
holding ever so tightly to
a false image of god
Hateful
Inhumane
Curse you robots accustomed to dogmatic belief
Your counterfiet
Half assed
Rehashed
Evolve already!
my mind trails....
down different paths
curse me
crucify me
I love to love
built to need another
to feel
to think for myself
to love being a women
and the power that comes with it
My conscience
clear
How's yours?
Guilted into life
Worshipping death
**** off the ones that disagree
metaphorically
and play your role "right"
In the big machine
I am more than rust or grease
a lever a pully a tool to please
and the day I die I'll rest with peace
knowing I operate differently
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 9:49 AM UTC
How can one grow a plant,
And only water it when it's wilted?
How can one turn to love
Only when it is feeling guilted?
How can one change its ways
After years of growth stilted?
He must learn to overcome
Every obstacle, every day
Love should be respected
I feel I've only neglected
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 1:05 AM UTC
i was in debt the day i was born.
the nurse said i was a natural red,
mom didn't believe her
boy
did i
show her
indebted to the woman's womb i struggled out of
the man's genes i inherited
and they dare to ask me
"are you a natural
red?"
the color of my blood is a natural ginger
just enough in my father's mustache
i am in debt
naturally
sometimes i can still feel
the umbilical cord
that she guilted me
into keeping
attached
i was born in debt
i am in the red
naturally
mommy
won't let go of me
i tried to get away
twenty
years ago
she could show
you the scars
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 10:00 PM UTC
I am unfortunately out of practice,
I have given you into the hands of my laziness and neglectful nature,
They are unkind masters,
They like to make me forget that good things require attention,
Else good things grow tainted with tarnish,
Your polished glory was only known when I remembered to care,
Must I communicate with you,
Resurrecting you from the dead?
Or are you my communication and I must learn to speak again?
As sleeping beauty,
You are sleeping inside of me,
Your lifeless form is sustained by only the guilted glances from my mind,
I acknowledge you existence,
But something hinders me from shaking you,
Waking you,
Ripping you from your slumbering prison,
To replace you to your seat of importance,
Why hold back?
I know the reward of your company,
Yet I am content in complacency!
I am the one sleeping,
But beauty does not grace my bed,
I am betrayed by the unfeeling safety l cling to,
To work,
To make an effort,
Not only is it hard,
Exhausting,
But it is a risk,
Fear of falling,
Of failing,
Of losing,
Of letting down,
This fear has replaced you as my best friend,
It drives my actions,
My passions,
It claims my best interest,
Delusional,
Self-centered,
It looks out only for itself,
“You know better.”
Whispers,
As though talking into my dreaming,
You insist truth,
Truth is the only thing that might overcome fear,
If one could just let the truth in,
One could wake up,
I could wake up,
You, thought to be the sleeper,
You are screaming from my heart,
But Fear also screams,
Fear is afraid,
It chokes my heart,
Trying to silence your pleas,
The war in my chest breaks my trance,
Wake me up!
Oh for God’s sake, wake me up!
I want to live again!
Was life granted only to sleep in safety?
I was made to feel!
To speak and express and converse and love and use my gifts,
Fear be ******
I was made to be with you,
You are my heart,
Hold me tight and never let me forget you again,
Never let me fall asleep.
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 12:26 PM UTC
I never knew
Having a heartbeat
Could make me feel guilty
Until you lost yours
Dec 19, 2021
Dec 19, 2021 at 1:22 AM UTC
perhaps
if i made myself
scarce, scared
sacred--
i'll become
wanted
uninhibitedly.
i already am.
a look of entendre at
intelligence,
perhaps deeper than
my own [but mountains
are enormous]-
those giant eyes
i only wish were on me
always but only with
love always
a look of anger, admittedly,
but only for a second-
think i saw
you slow down as i focused
on the floor, your speech imposed-
my glance, again- of sadness,
now,
for he who i'm so scared
to love
gives me another tiny fright.
neither of us broke even
we both walked out with
pockets extracted from pants
validated parking,
painfully pounding out a new
way home.
our past, unchangeable.
mistakes are made.
i know i know I AM.
i AM- or at least i
feel like i am-
realizing when the ***
is too hot, when to
take my hand off,
when to use a ***
holder.
lately though i don't
feel like i can crack
an egg on your edge
let alone cook a meal
without you burning me.
a fan quickly sweeping
the trapped air of
breakfast nook, spite &
malice. reduced to what
holds my interest,
that which i am guilted
for most.
a hand held is a hand held
not held to a handheld
- a hand that won't let go
but its hard to love
when- almost to the
point of thinking- you're
looking up to what's looking
down at you.
Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 5:55 AM UTC
who among us
does not whisper
many a daily silent prayer,
unconsciously, or even a thoughtful thought
initiated usually by
guilted conscience
to a deity,
or to just
the god voices of ourselves, or
ha! or anybody within earshot...
these whispers,
sally forth,
direction upwards,
to an unmappable and usually
unresponsive atmosphere,
seeding the sky moment hoping for
a smidgen of warm rain in a life drought,
and
the wanted future with
grains of hope, needy desires and
evil warded, off put
who among us
reflexively,
without marks of hesitation,
hearing the prayers of others
desirous of any bounty's share<
whisk-that-wish a
fare-thee-well, a shout out, a whisper,
thinking our legal rights confirmed
by a participatory, hearty, git-along-little-doggie,
amen,
even a
**hot ****
or an-oh-so subtle, a holy colloquial
yeah baby!
who among us never says,
please,
promise,
need, want?
not me...
Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 8:59 AM UTC
"I don't know if you're going to read this or not but, looks like you used your Bandcamp profile recently.......and I've been thinking......your a ***** .....and I never got the chance to tell you. You can blow me off thats fine, its been a couple years and you just completely wrote me off. I understand you may have wrote other people off because they did you wrong, but you wrote me off on judgment alone. I did you no wrong! You deemed me unworthy of your company as if you are somehow the dictator of all social interaction, because you didn't agree with decisions I made about my life. **** move....you could have at least had the decency to say, "Hey, I don't want to hang out with you anymore.....or even speak to you for that matter." It would have ****** but it wouldn't have been a **** move. plastic blood indeed"
You are one of the most beautiful people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting in my lifetime.
I was a ******* kid back when I knew you man, **** I still am in a lot of ways. The truth is that my father got really upset when he found out you were smoking **** with me in the car and guilted me into not making music with you, and being a stupid kid I handled it as well as I handled everything else. After that it just seemed awkward to try to say hi. I'd figured you either hate me or move on, and either way we both probably had lives to get to.
I'm living in Cleveland now, been here for three years since my father kicked me out after we got into an argument. It ain't bad. For the most part though, I've kind of quit on music. I make a CD here and there and record a song, but I'm just really tired of trying to impress people.
Nah, I still think you're one of the coolest people on the planet, and I did make a **** move, and wasn't even the last in a string of **** moves I'd have done to a lot of people, and I did do to many.
I'm sorry. You made me a better musician, and person, even just by knowing you, and you deserved better than that.
Laughing my *** off because Louis Keys called me a ***** today,
Austin Heath.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
I'm angry when I see you yet its been years since I loved you
I want to pretend that we were never "in love"
I want to pretend you never touched me
I want to pretend you never guilted me into doing things
I wish I could forget everything we shared
I wish you never lied to me
I wish you never saw me so vulnerable
I'm angry when I remember you sliding your hand up my thigh
I want to pretend you never kissed me
I want to pretend I never enjoyed it
I want to pretend I never wanted you
I wish these memories would fade.....
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 12:30 AM UTC
It will happen someday
but I'm not looking forward to it
because all I've ever seen
in regards to love
is manipulation and abuse
and being guilted and used
and I don't want to be on either side of that.
you told me I was in love
I was too young to know
that the second the back of your hand
met my 13 year old face
I should've left
but hearing bottles break in my head
from my empty, numb childhood
convinced me to stay instead
I got too close too fast
and started to feel trapped
under the weight of keeping you happy
I contorted myself into something I'm not
stopped letting myself open up
I spit venom at your feet
and walked off
to afraid to look you in the eyes
too numb to say goodbye
I didn't get that close
in the few months we had
but enough to trust you and tell you ****
then feel the burn like acid in my chest
when I left temporarily
and you left, period.
After, of course,
letting me buy you a plane ticket.
I never got close to you
I clarified that that's how
this was supposed to go
but I could see the way you looked at me
in the aftermath of ***
and heard you call me beautiful
so I left...
now I think of us in bed
and cringe, still full of regret
I can feel myself getting close
in the sense that when I leave
I want you to want me to stay the night again
you make me feel protected
and the feeling of that alone
isn't something I expected
and in fact it scares me to death
I keep waiting for it to get ******
but so far, nothing
(convince me to leave).
you used me as a punching bag.
you used me for attention.
you used me for money.
you started to love me.
you...still unclear.
all I know is that I've never felt
textbook style love
without the undertones
of intense apprehension
and fear of the unknown
honestly,
I'm scared as ****
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 2:31 AM UTC
i'm found guilted by only the
misconception that maybe life
will get easier. i find myself
alone late at night even when
surrounded by the people that
should make me feel worth, but
i only seem to find melancholy.
it's easy to let yourself be sad.
it's not easy to get yourself
out of that same sadness.
i whisper goodnight to the people
i love and say goodbye just in case.
even if they don't hear it, at least
somewhere off in the darkness
where my thoughts wander off,
maybe, just maybe, someone will hear.
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 1:54 PM UTC
It's starting
It's killing
Again and again
It's hurting
Circling inside
Mixing alive
Can't settle
No one can meddle
It's numbing
Blood dripping
Open flesh
Guilted mess
Tears stopping
Head rising
Masking savior
I'm a survivor
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 5:55 AM UTC
The air matches the forest deep.
Its Auburn glow weaves congestion into thick dimensions.
The grass, and leaves, and trees coexist in this moment of surreality.
A sepia trim around a coordinated portrait -
The eye cannot adjust to a moment irreplaceable.
A melting slathered teardrop falls slowly.
The tree's push this far into the sky -
Not pushing, but holding, rather.
As a weeping mother catches her child and slowly descends them.
She cannot hold forever,
and the red of scars, disaster, and reflection advents.
She let’s the child wander;
Developing.
Enveloping.
And black does become the night.
Delicate, and sluggish, this darkness falls.
Her arms can bear no more,
as the sunset-soul consumes an arcane definite.
Droning below the lake,
of which no hills sit near.
Charcoal weighing down the once prepossessing light -
of nature’s *****
A soft whisper,
And death.
Dreams…
And guilt.
"Free us of his torment!”
Cried the leaves: post-wilted.
"He’ll devour us by his own light!”
Shrieked the trees: un-guilted.
"Why entwine such sedulous melancholia?”
Squealed the breeze: pre-juilted.
Oh! Do despair in blessedness!
Oh! Does the flora mourn for her exaltation!
But…
Oh,
Does his darkness revile the ***** soul -
In impassioned ecstasy.
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 9:26 PM UTC
Emeralds in your eyes
Are now a dying Gatsby light
My heart knew no boundaries
Until you left
Now I’m staring at
Your white picket fence
Outside looking in
Unwelcome to the family
You created on a whim.
There’s nothing different
I could have done
To make you mine
Your words change
Like a ticking clock
And your muted actions
Feel like falling
Face first on rocks
This is not
The end for me
I’ll find love greater than
Your guilted misery
And I will try
To let these feelings die
Without playing I spy
A liar in disguise.
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 12:31 PM UTC