"imbalances" poems
Men and women all born to a creed
no creed an advocate for evil deeds
Savagery of the Peshawar kind
has more to do with an evil mind
that does not think nor analyze
blinded it is by emotions unwise
Biochemical imbalances of the brain
and a body bereft of a conscience
is that what makes them take an AK47
and wreak havoc on defenseless innocence
a satanic act born of frustrated cowardice
that seeks to hide in dark disguise
behind the shroud of distorted beliefs
that seeks revenge as heavenly relief
Those that make their own earth a living hell
Which God and what paradise waits for them pray tell?
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 1:54 AM UTC
If i could,
I would,
Carefully take you apart,
And put you back together,
Piece, by fragile piece,
And i would not cease,
Until the job was done.
Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes,
Until the cries that had chained you down,
Had been removed from the ground.
And if i could, i would,
Take my tools
And attentively drill out
Your insecurities,
All those flaws, you believe to be
Impurities
And ***** in self acceptance so tight,
So that never again at night,
Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself,
As you sparkle in the moonlight.
And if i could, i would,
Clamp together,
Your hopes and dreams,
Your self belief,
And tie them together at the seams
With double knots,
So that you never forgot, how
Capable you are.
I'd take each glittering star,
and plant them in the pupils of your eyes,
So that each time you cry
You'd be reminded of the beauty inside,
Of you.
And if i could, i would,
Paint over your frame work,
And tentatively cover up those scars,
So you'd never again see the hurt,
And never doubt
Just how perfectly imperfect you are.
And if i could, i would,
Saw away your sorrows
So when you thought of your tomorrows,
You weren't filled with dread,
You were filled with joy and hope
And optimism instead,
So that before you went to bed,
You were not filled with self defeating thoughts,
Ruminating inside, that pretty little head.
And if i could, i would,
Weld securely into place,
A genuinely happy smile,
Across your dainty face,
And a hand in yours,
So you'd never have to brace
Anything alone.
And if i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.
And if i could, i would,
Attach wings to your spine,
So there'd never be a time,
That you'd stumble and fall
You'd stand tall,
You'd rise above it all.
And if i could, i would,
Take the lonely shadows of your heart,
Rip them apart
And blaze them,
In a light so bright
It'd never die out,
You would never again doubt
All that you are,
And all that you can be.
And if i could, i would,
I'd set you free.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
“Put pressure on it, it needs more pressure”
Holding your wounds shut
That senseless force is what took you away
Pressure- to be... whilst not desiring to be
You saw the clouds moving in greyscale
I saw the hills below scattered in shades of green,
Cavernous, shadowed, cryptic, familiar-
We were advised to go as the crow flies
I cried to a nameless God that your crow’s feet
Were from insurmountable happiness, not the pressures endured
I’ve forgotten much since the storm some-178 weeks ago
Though my body remembers yours over and over again
My skin has yours imprinted, correlated
Forged into one point on the axis between here and there
You the X, I the Y
The Earth crept between the crevices, curling
Through the distance between the Right radius and ulna
Elbows breaking knuckles, blood remains to be spilt
Blood doesn’t connect, if anything it merely separates
Scarecrows don’t help much when the crops won’t grow this year
Ants crawled out of the barrel of a shotgun
Observing the process of cleaning bones after tragedy
Follow the moss to find your way North with no direction-
Sometimes on the other side it’s not greener,
It’s more terrifying than ever before
Terrain untouched, unspoiled, sacred-
Climb up the trees with me, find your quiet
We won’t carve our names but we’ll find our niche
You’ll have quills and I’ll have armor
Not even the thought of stolen arrows,
Lost time through distance,
Or perhaps a slew of chemical imbalances
Can reach us up here
I chose to glue your pieces back together with mud and straw
Taken from the fallen, the loved and now distant memories
You may be an abandoned military base offshore
What was once used by many-
Witnesses life again, life of a different kind
The vegetation will ease its way into the cracks
Constructed when the foundation began to decay
It has a beauty of its own, one of self-sustainment
An everlasting beauty that connects itself
To the surrounding extravagance, often times ignored,
Death isn’t the only way to be forged into nature, remembered
Fear doesn’t always win, nor death do us part so soon
I hope your skin and bones remember before the end
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 1:34 AM UTC
If i could,
I would,
Carefully take you apart,
And put you back together,
Piece, by fragile piece,
And i would not cease,
Until the job was done.
Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes,
Until the cries that had chained you down,
Had been removed from the ground.
And if i could, i would,
Take my tools
And attentively drill out
Your insecurities,
All those flaws, you believe to be
Impurities
And ***** in self acceptance so tight,
So that never again at night,
Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself,
As you sparkle in the moonlight.
And if i could, i would,
Clamp together,
Your hopes and dreams,
Your self belief,
And tie them together at the seams
With double knots,
So that you never forgot, how
Capable you are.
I'd take each glittering star,
and plant them in the pupils of your eyes,
So that each time you cry
You'd be reminded of the beauty inside,
Of you.
And if i could, i would,
Paint over your frame work,
And tentatively cover up those scars,
So you'd never again see the hurt,
And never doubt
Just how perfectly imperfect you are.
And if i could, i would,
Saw away your sorrows
So when you thought of your tomorrows,
You weren't filled with dread,
You were filled with joy and hope
And optimism instead,
So that before you went to bed,
You were not filled with self defeating thoughts,
Ruminating inside, that pretty little head.
And if i could, i would,
Weld securely into place,
A genuinely happy smile,
Across your dainty face,
And a hand in yours,
So you'd never have to brace
Anything alone.
And if i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.
And if i could, i would,
Attach wings to your spine,
So there'd never be a time,
That you'd stumble and fall
You'd stand tall.
And if i could, i would,
Take the lonely shadows of your heart,
Rip them apart
And blaze them,
In a light so bright
It'd never die out,
You would never again doubt
All that you are,
And all that you can be.
And if i could, i would,
I'd set you free.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC
Upon every arrival of every celestial birth,
There is only one common normality.
A susceptibility to an infinitesimal design,
A kink in the chain, the war of our mind.
This psychosomatic condition is no stranger,
A rendition of life’s existence.
Confinement exacerbated by poor health in the gut line,
Hormonal imbalances manipulated by addictive influences.
Paradigms shifting in front of awakening eyes,
Psychedelic truths hidden within the tides of time,
Confusion and conflict preventing expansion of evolutionary consciousness,
A cyclic pattern, the sadness in all our lives.
This idea is immortal and internal in the human genome,
The greatest subterfuge,
Amnesia
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 3:15 PM UTC
If i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 6:10 AM UTC
Poetry is the altruistic apogee of the individualistic emotional egoist.
The lack of feeling, and the lack of empathy,
the petty attempt to hide them with creativity.
It’s truly astonishing how we can fool ourselves into thinking we’re kind
When we’re just wasting our time, pretending to see when we’re blind.
How could we ever emulate our chemical imbalances on one another?
The only way to do it is the kindly overrated feeling of love and affection.
And why would we need words, if we’re sure about our love for each other?
Oh, we’re puzzled to believe that our puny poetry represents felt perfection.
Yet we just walk through the valleys of lyricism,
Lost in our own wishes for joy or demise
And yet we become shadows of perfectionism
Filled with the detachment we criticize.
Our representation is our perdition
We've lost ourselves in our own mission.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
I don't need drugs. My brain is drugs.
Maybe it's a side effect of a mother that dropped acid for the first trimester of pregnancy and then some.
Maybe it's a side effect of the abusive step father that told me I would never amount to anything and that I am ********
My brain processes things at about a hundred miles per hour. In conversations I am always three steps ahead of what ever was said last. I make connections in things that are unconnected.
They tell me this is adult ADHD. They tell me I should be proscribed a pill to help my brain focus.
But focus isn't what I want. Nor is the drowsiness that comes with Lorazepam, the fog that goes with Prozac. I have been separately proscribed these things without ever filling the bottles.
But I fear that if I fix all my chemical imbalances, my medical maladies, that I will disappear into a fog.
Who am I without my OCD, without my brain over processing, over loving, over caring. Without the pain in my chest from another panic, my bouncing off the walls and singing to myself.
Maybe I am unwell.
But who am I without my unwellness?
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 2:37 AM UTC
If i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 2:06 PM UTC
So what is recovery?
Is it that tingle in your cheeks
When the corners of your mouth meet
Upwards.
Is it that sparkle in your eyes
Because they're no longer suffocated by your cries and you now have the potential to realise
You are strong.
Is it that glimpse of light, that for so long had been out of sight, that you cling onto tight, through fear
It's only temporary.
Is it rediscovering yourself, rebuilding your health and developing a new wealth
Of coping mechanisms.
Is it realigning the chemical imbalances in your brain, so you no longer feel insane, so there's not less pain
But a mind that can handle it.
Is it the glimpse in the mirror where you don't turn in horror but you greet and honour the person that you are.
Is it the fear, that's consumed you year by year, that's brought the end so near,
That starts to evaporate.
Is it eating a meal, and not having to feel like
You need to punish yourself.
Is it hearing voices, but no longer allowing them to dictate your choices,
Because they don't own you anymore.
Is it putting down the bottle, because you're fed up of the throttle
It had you in.
Is it the feeling when you finally win
Back your own heart and mind
When finally you look inside
And don't find
Darkness but light,
When the night no longer scares you
And the days you can finally pull through
Or is it simply a phase
A gaze at what could never be
For there is no clarity,
No prospect to be free
In chains and nooses
And scars and bars.
In bodies that fight to survive
Trapped inside a mind that fights to take our lives.
Some of us; shall never be undone
We fight a war;
That could Never be won.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 6:46 AM UTC
"I'm so OCD"
OCD isn't a joke.
Washing your hands over and over again until your skin is raw isn't a joke.
Doing things that your brain tells you to do, regardless of what, isn't funny.
Not having control is not a joke.
"You look so anorexic."
Eating disorders are not a joke.
Refusing to eat until it kills you isn't a joke.
Throwing up over and over again to get a body that you will never be happy with isn't funny.
Being control by the one thing that makes you feel like you have control isn't a joke.
"That made me so depressed."
Chemical imbalances in the brain isn't a joke.
Wanting to do nothing all the time isn't funny.
Wanting to die all the time isn't a joke.
Stop making jokes about things you don't understand.
And if you are dealing with any eating or mental disorder, I am so proud of you for still being here and staying strong. I know how hard recovery is. You will overcome it.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC
I don’t want anything for Christmas
Nothing you can put under the tree.
What I want cannot be purchased.
It can’t be wrapped up expensively;
It’s not about ribbons and silk bows
Or fancy paper laced with gold.
It’s all about what the world needs
And has needed since days of old.
It has to do with people crying
And begging for what they need.
It has to do with children starving
The victims of our nation’s greed.
Drive the streets and look around
And who has got and who has not.
Look at all the rich decorations
And at all the empty urban lots.
Ask yourself how this can happen
In the richest country in the world.
Shouldn’t there be food enough
For every single boy and girl?
And shouldn’t there be jobs enough
For every one who chose to toil?
What happened to good will to men?
Has that concept been left to spoil?
What I want for Christmas can
Be stated in a very simple way.
We should learn to pull together
To chase the imbalances away.
We have enough of our resources
To abolish hunger and poverty.
We can be a nation of compassion.
That is what I truly want to see.
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 2:18 PM UTC
Live your life
though it's not an easy thing to do
especially for those who are not born with inheritances
every step of the way is rampant with imbalances
it's also because the world is riddled with contrived rules
everywhere it's still primeval law of the jungle
sometimes we're not strong enough
but at all times we need to think for ourselves
protecting ourselves is the only way
making it possible for us
to live a life
many choose to conform to the practices of the society
some choose to stay true to their humanity
the two choices often find themselves in conflict
not saying there's no reconciliations
staying true to yourself
is not preordained to be a confrontation to the world
sometimes it can be more of an integration
because when you know yourself
you become tolerant of the world
because the more you love yourself
you have to learn to love the world
and slowly you'll be able to live out
your own life
the process is never easy
but it's the only way to understanding life
to loving it most of the time.
Jul 19, 2023
Jul 19, 2023 at 4:34 AM UTC
you cannot wish love into existence (or how it came to be)
came and was asked,
make us a star.
smiled and whispered to the
mother night belly black and
and their star,
unequivocal was given
came and was asked, for a cooling fooling breeze.
smiled and whispered to the clouds,
rush past us faster and shed us thy ease
and so refreshed,
gave up hands high grace salutes
came and was asked, why be alone,
whisper for her
to love you
smiled and whispered
this I cannot
nor would I want to do
came and was asked,
why be alone,
whisper for you
to love her
smiled and whispered
this I cannot
nor would I want to do
whisper what you will
but love
is a wondering and a wonderment eternal
a perpetuity of never knowing,
perfect surety is not love
it is a why without an answer,
a question's question imperfection
why you love today,
maybe a continent different
why you used to, or first to,
and tomorrow's raison d'être
as yet undreamt, unrealized,
you can whisper many things into being,
but beings in love are motions special,
and entitled to a category special
admixture of reason and lust,
hunger and thirst,
needy to be needed
needy to be giving,
the balance whacked,
constant change its formulae
called vagaries, chemical imbalances,
e-motions
should I whisper,
call out for love,
making it so,
there would be no why,
without the why,
what worth this be
so when you do whisper
I love you,
admit it is a question
and an answer simultaneous,
it is a whisper of certain uncertainty
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
My crooked teeth are imperfect.
My weight is imperfect.
My skin is imperfect.
My thought process is imperfect.
My actions can be imperfect.
I am imperfect.
My teeth help me smile, which people love!
My weight just means I'm better to hug and cuddle!
My skin makes me different, which is always okay!
My thought process is just more advanced and sincere!
My actions are a result of chemical imbalances!
I am okay with being imperfect because imperfections make me who I am!
Feb 21, 2020
Feb 21, 2020 at 10:00 PM UTC
being in your own personal prison is so lonely.
I cannot stand the sight of my own body and
it's like there is life trapped inside of a home I am not programmed to love.
chemical imbalances are easy to blame
so instead I focus on that fact that I cannot go longer than 26 hours
without caving into the persistent animal that
lives under my diaphragm.
the loneliest moments of my life
are when I find myself in a dark room
with my clothes off and my demons out to play.
they laugh and they pull at every inch of my collapsing body.
with tears streaming down my face I cup at my stomach and thighs.
it's like I'm screaming
I'm sorry
but actions speak louder than words
so I'm probably whispering.
the structure of temple may be beautiful
but the demons that reside inside
do not agree.
I am not fighting a battle with myself.
I am fighting against myself.
against my flesh and bones.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
There is a pain inside my chest
It slowly unfurls
To show its hideous face
And yet its not hideous
It terrifies me
Because its no manifestation of a physical condition
It is the child of the small imbalances triggered by the moving of a thousand suns and their descendants
In mysterious ways
There is a pain inside my chest tonight and I cannot tell you how much it hurts to have not felt this before
To see and think and feel the way a hundred thousand have done before and I'm going insane
Stuck in this battle inside my head
Roars of machinations faraway and souls so close to my own it terrifies me
There is a pain inside my chest
It wants me to live again
A demonic beast
With a distilled heart of magnificent proportions demands action
And it lives inside all of us
We simply learn to live with it, like some lifelong pain of heartbreak or the smell of flowers you liked or the the warmth of the sun upon your skin after a long winter night or
The smile on a face so akin to mine
I'm looking for definitions but I'm out of words now
I need a gun and bam
Shoot myself where it hurts the most
But I won't
The pain inside my chest is a story
Of a thousand years
Of pain
Of suffering
Of loss
And the slight cracks from where light escapes and flirts with the darkness
And the life that emerges out of nowhere to defy all
To defy even god
The pain inside my chest is the same as the one inside yours
Veiled by a smile
Or thoughts
Unavoidable disasters
Manifesting its own life, its sorrows and tears
Its own joy, its own love and its own sun
There is a pain inside my chest
Guess this is what it means to be human
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
****** off metaphoric empowerment
Drained from mental imbalances
Constructed from symbolic injustices
Surviving political malpractices
Jaded mind and a jellyfish spine
Land minds and a dozen dimes
Days roll on this glass rock
All I hear is the tick and tock
Thirty three is all I read
Number seven is all I need
Fragmented thoughts and acquired taste
Requires thought of fragmented hate
Twisted tongue over a gun
It's old and useless, but cool and vintage
Jan 24, 2011
Jan 24, 2011 at 7:12 PM UTC
My chemical imbalances
Make me unstable
Releasing pieces of my mind
So I'll become stable
Still calculating the halflife
Of my sanity
Alpha, beta or gammma,
Would not catorize me
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 12:58 PM UTC
Though we wish,
can we ever find our
prince charming..
A shoe may fit, but is it comfortable.
And our happy ever after is but a moment,
of chemical imbalances before we realise.
That we should have smashed
the happy ever after.
As glass always cuts deep
it only takes time.
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 5:38 PM UTC
Another day starts
another night gone
where did the time go?
where did I go wrong?
missing my former self
like a long lost friend
but I wish him good health
can only reach him by pen
I haven't slept yet
there's one letter I gotta send
can't look in the mirror
too tired, when is it gonna end
a thousand questions no answers
why the **** am I like this?
a life is built on little chances
maybe it's genetic, fantastic
if I had kids and they got this
if I had a mind then I've lost it
if I can't bare the pain myself
how can I share this sadness?
but I already do
because it's madness for two
to my mother, I love ya
to my father, I love ya
to my sisters, I love ya
to my girlfriend, I love ya
to my friends, I love ya
to the meds, I love ya
to my docs, I love ya
to my former self, I love ya
to the thing I am
to the man I was
the pressure is pressure
and I'm a hairpin trigger
something hard yet soft
like my wasted brain
when will I go off?
every suicidal thought
has got me caught off guard
nobody said it would be easy
never said it would be this hard
feel like I'm watching my life
end from afar, everyday is
an outer body experience
restlessness got me delirious
and I just thought about death
again so this could be serious
Can't see a way out today
chemical imbalances are not okay
stopped taking my meds
want to lose the fight my way
**** what the doctors say
it's all well and good to say
it helps to talk to someone
but I can't find the words today
to my mother, I love ya
to my father, I love ya
to my sisters, I love ya
to my girlfriend, I love ya
to my friends, I love ya
to my meds, I love ya
to my docs, I love ya
to my former self, I miss ya
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC
This independence they speak of seems like a myth
I dipped my toes into the vast waters of the reality of life
Only to be overpowered by the immensity
Making me retreat back into this place
Where I have remained
Incarcerated inside of myself
Just a conglomerate of disorders
Inhibited by chemical imbalances
Needing constant reassurance
Like a child
Pathetic
My desire for nothing less than perfection outside of this unreality
making me cling on to apron strings
That should have been severed many a moon ago
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
I love you
I know I do
But I can't feel it
The numbness has reached my heart
No matter how hard I try
No feelings break free
They're lost somewhere
In the darkness
I don't know how else to put it
I don't have words to explain
It's just these chemical imbalances
I hope you'll understand
I love you
I really do
I just can't always find it
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 9:36 PM UTC
If i could,
I would,
Carefully take you apart,
And put you back together,
Piece, by fragile piece,
And i would not cease,
Until the job was done.
Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes,
Until the cries that had chained you down,
Had been removed from the ground.
And if i could, i would,
Take my tools
And attentively drill out
Your insecurities,
All those flaws, you believe to be
Impurities
And ***** in self acceptance so tight,
So that never again at night,
Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself,
As you sparkle in the moonlight.
And if i could, i would,
Clamp together,
Your hopes and dreams,
Your self belief,
And tie them together at the seams
With double knots,
So that you never forgot, how
Capable you are.
I'd take each glittering star,
and plant them in the pupils of your eyes,
So that each time you cry
You'd be reminded of the beauty inside,
Of you.
And if i could, i would,
Paint over your frame work,
And tentatively cover up those scars,
So you'd never again see the hurt,
And never doubt
Just how perfectly imperfect you are.
And if i could, i would,
Saw away your sorrows
So when you thought of your tomorrows,
You weren't filled with dread,
You were filled with joy and hope
And optimism instead,
So that before you went to bed,
You were not filled with self defeating thoughts,
Ruminating inside, that pretty little head.
And if i could, i would,
Weld securely into place,
A genuinely happy smile,
Across your dainty face,
And a hand in yours,
So you'd never have to brace
Anything alone.
And if i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.
And if i could, i would,
Attach wings to your spine,
So there'd never be a time,
That you'd stumble and fall
You'd stand tall,
You'd rise above it all.
And if i could, i would,
Take the lonely shadows of your heart,
Rip them apart
And blaze them,
In a light so bright
It'd never die out,
You would never again doubt
All that you are,
And all that you can be.
And if i could, i would,
I'd set you free.
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
I'm tired of Love lost,
of cookie-cutter me missing you
and all of the ridiculous rhymes that ensue.
More and more I am fed up,
plainly sick of inflated ego's insulated by chosen ignorance
or inborn imbalances,
maybe a history of inbreeding
from a catalyst of parochial need.
You are a parody of mental health
shaping the shifting black and white
to propound cheap love, I feel this as a slight.
Committing any wisp of originality
to become an unconscious marketing ploy,
you're looking for glory in methods unlearned
now butchered, bleeding clichés
to stain pages and pages
with your sullen insecurities.
For that I name you an idiot,
a slavering jowls dripping greedy soul.
Comprehend there is no invalidation of your emotions,
just a damning of self neglect and hidden pride in suffering
all laced with the unspoken demand for my respect.
Dec 10, 2010
Dec 10, 2010 at 6:22 PM UTC