"headbutting" poems
The last drop of fuel
has vanquished within the fog
of vacuous steam,
and the words are asphyxiated
by the author's incompetence
before his toes even tap
upon the starting line.
It's even a hassle
scribing these simple words
without grinding my teeth,
headbutting defeat,
and fixing the channel
with which I once could
transform the bulging of veins
into the unraveling of stanzas.
With a pitter-patter here
and a tick and tock there,
the hourglass spins itself towards nausea
and still no denouement
from a muse that replaced burning passion
with a scalding charcoal mind.
How could I let them get to me?
How could I let them make mockery
and triviality of the art
held with the greatest sincerity,
leaving me a pigpen
of unanswered questions
tinged with urgent frustration?
Did I really just end this with a question?
Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 10:48 AM UTC
Sometimes I'd like to cut myself to remind me of ourselves
If I apply pressure to the wound it'll stop bleeding
It's the only way to stop this feeling
It's the closest thing that resembles me embracing to tightly with our fronts softly headbutting.
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 12:18 AM UTC
Sadness is a badness
A disease of desperate unease
An ugly difficult anomaly
That brings me to my knees
It enters the room
On its own terms
Without a warning
As welcome as germs
Like a kick in the ******
It hurts like hell
Bringing on the confusion
Of words misspelled
I can't ****** help it
What do I do
It grips on so tight
Like a terrier with a chew
A minute, an hour,
A day, sometimes a week
There's no rhyme or reason
For how long I feel bleak
And bleak is how I feel
During the spell
Bleak, numb, disabled
Desperately unwell.
Single, solo
Alone, on my own
Deeper and deeper
Heavy as a stone
I don't want it to happen
Not ever, at all
Like rabies, like syphilis
Like headbutting a wall.
It changes my mind
And the way that I act.
It makes me go silent
I feel like a ****
I cancel appointments
Welch out of dates
Then worry for ages
That I've upset my mates
My pain, my heart ache
Nobody knows
They may have similar
But they don't have my foes
So next time you see me
And I'm not quite myself
Please give me some space
And wish me good health
Please give me some time
To get back to being
To get back to feeling
And hearing and seeing
For when I am happy
My world is amazing
And when I am sad
My world is hell raising
Sadness is a badness
A disease of desperate unease
An ugly difficult anomaly
That brings me to my knees
Oct 24, 2019
Oct 24, 2019 at 1:28 PM UTC