"immobility" poems
Stillness and immobility
They look just the same
But one can be bliss the other is pain
The stillness arises when the tension is gone
When the tension grows immobility is born
The blessing of stillness it flies high and wide
The curse of tension pulls the mind closely tied
Stillness and immobility
They look just the same
But one can be bliss the other is pain
In the eye of a storm mighty worrier she waits
Her opponent exhausted from the forces he breaks
From the centre she moves in any direction
Her hands tied only by one thing - affection
Stillness and immobility
They look just the same
But one can be bliss the other is pain
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 7:18 AM UTC
"you are so strong"
my eyes stared into nothing,
burning with the absence of tears.
i knew there would be a point
where i could not cry anymore.
what was everyone seeing?
because all i felt was weakness,
pain,
emptiness.
my exterior was bruised and beaten
but only inside could i feel the effects.
i was not strong
i was fragile,
scared,
and vulnerable.
frustrated by words of praise
i sank deeper into my delusions,
and perfected my 'brave face'.
i was not strong
i was struggling.
listening to the vital carts
wheel in and out,
my door never a separation
but a portal to demons
wielding gurneys,
needles,
charts and machines.
i was restless in my immobility.
i was not strong
i was numb.
calling for my mother at 4:00 am
she carried my weight,
she held my hand,
she washed my hair,
she changed my clothes,
she slept, barely,
at my feet.
i was not strong
my mother was.
days piled on;
hours lost in isolation
maddening my mind
and diminishing my willpower.
with every test,
measurement,
and procedure
i felt helplessness
swallow the living light in me.
still, i complied,
i waited,
i did what was asked.
i was not strong
i was a quiet fire.
looking at my damaged body,
examining my inflamed veins.
my face was swollen,
my hair matted.
i shook in my skin
disassociating my identity.
i was not my condition
i was not my self disgust.
i can not say that i feel better
just different,
which is neither positive or negative.
reflecting on 10 days as a ghost
getting acquainted with myself,
filling in the blanks.
i was not strong
i was surviving.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 10:49 PM UTC
all fell silent around me
tho could hear humansounds from highway now ethereal
as if noise had been turned down on world
no longer screeching threat
where is everyone what are they doing
suddenly irrelevant as now realized
piece of every soul i ever touched
i carry with me forever
i light at night to keep warm
big fireside grinning buddha meditation
never forgetting
until so swollen with joy of
our six degrees beautiful imperfect chaos crashing
can hardly breathe but to love everyone
all better now no longer cold and empty
can feel multitude of proud heartbeats
can hear a thousand new cough lungs
sweet histories and meanings
left with calm immobility no need to tell
they know too the cold night old soul warm heart connection
now sure of this
paralyzing somatic reconnection
creep thru solemn autumn garden
whoever's next in line
can have what's left
done fighting
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 4:38 PM UTC
We run through golden drops of sunlight
with reminders tied around our wrists
memories in baskets of woven wind
Tomorrow chases us
as we chase yesterday
The synchronicity of our steps
becomes the rhythm of time
lost in the streets of reality
while navigating maps of wonder
our lives are repelling forces
that now face the immobility
of our desire for freedom
so what's left? Besides you
running toward this morning sky
and me, sinking in a shallow sea
of words and puzzles, that time built for
you and I
Feb 20, 2022
Feb 20, 2022 at 12:32 AM UTC
I saw the colors of dreams. They are green and violet like the sky, I’ve walked in the purple valley of a glass colored day felt the warm ashes of molten snow in a flash of time. Eaten the Rubaiyat in a Princes place among the black trees and witnessed the death of a thousand twins. I realise now the generous light emitted by letters and words, have tasted inspired delirium. Scanned the immobility of time and place, contemplated the harmony of the disunity of inner vision, and questioned the effects of a false reality. Seen male and female linked in a new symbiosis, which has given birth to a new species, which has given birth to us, we who are the beginning the end and the continuum; those without limitation, without dimension. We, who are the rainbow sons of Lilith…………
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 2:03 PM UTC
The way the stand so much taller than me,
for so many more days than me.
They must be wise for I can see
No reason why wonder could not occur when immobility
stands in the way.
Oak.
Chestnut.
Tree.
I wish I could see,
What it is to be.
To stand.
To live.
To perish.
Constrained,
yet free.
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 6:33 AM UTC
I saw a very old woman out in the cold
There was rain
There was a hyena
Eager to take a piece of her
And she cried out feebly for help
And she was answered
Or rather she now had company
A red-eyed and horned monster
It trampled on the only hope she had:
The feeble voice
Muted like a zombie
And the beast
Coughed out a fire of destruction
Breathed immobility in her
To eager but not quite able
To lick away her life as well.
Helpless, rejected and dejected too
Talk of desolation and poverty
Never again back to her land
Her only inheritance; and heritage too
The woman dies of hunger and disease
The monster wags its tail in joy
Then turns back and leaves her
Unburied, unattended, unmourned
Left her for the hyena to do the rest.
Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 5:31 AM UTC
Poem a day, day 8
Pressure creates urgency
It can evoke action
Or cause immobility
I wait til the edge
Of my deadline
And make myself do it
Sometimes it flows naturally
Forcing me to stop second guessing
Then there's today
Late for bed
Keeping others up in our bedsit
Waiting... Blank
**** pressure
Can't focus
What am I doing?
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 3:28 PM UTC
i stopped in the crosswalk to light a cigarette
then continued on my way down the street
the cars were of no threat to running me over;
they've been still in the streets all day, a traffic
blockade of holiday proportions
and as i stare through every windshield into the
warmth and luxury of the car's interior, I see nothing
but looks of misery, boredom, a sense of stagnant souls
and i began to laugh and smile like it's my ******* birthday
and i smoke my cigarette and become the only thing traveling
down this four way mall highway full of automobiles and people
they roll down their tinted windows and pelt me with their trash,
their negativity, their wasted times, their immobility and weight
and i begin to laugh harder, my smile lines stretching towards heaven.
merry christmas, shoppers!
merry christmas, chumps!
Dec 19, 2011
Dec 19, 2011 at 5:29 PM UTC
if you could only ease my eyes from their sockets
and pop them into your own head, unfettered,
you would see the truth in my words.
i've gone and spilled my guts here- the letters
are viscera and blood upon the page.
how brave they are to carry my sentiment,
how strong to bear my burdens.
dig into my intestines in an effort to understand
why i am leaden: they are bags of sand-
or is my immobility caused by the black hole in my gut?
tonight i'm the sidewalk, trodden on, grey, stained with yesterday's glut.
i am sober tonight, i swear. it's you who swells
and fails to understand what i am talking about.
i will not watch myself fade and sink for any longer.
tonight i abscond from your corner of hell.
"i am the combined effort of everyone i've ever met",
so baby, if i'm failing, maybe i just haven't found the right people yet.
we are both responsible for this crash.
you didn't start the fire, but you handed me the match.
my chest cavity is hollow. my body is rotting out from beneath me. i stagger on scaly feet.
when was the last time i bothered to eat?
if i come home tonight, i'm bringing my army with me.
tonight i'm bringing it all back.
i will not face this basement without something harsh to numb the pain.
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 1:53 AM UTC
Age old forests compressed
To thick primeval ooze
Interred between layers
Of sediments fused
By time and tonnage
To hard papa rock
Concealing CRUDE OILS’
Subterranean shock.
Shocking in value
Escalating with time,
Shocking in politics
Which equates to a crime,
Implications shocking
When you stop to see
That resource limitations
Have diminished quickly.
Consider the clout
When a fast world of cars
Without hydrocarbons
Would seize up like stars,
Stars, in the sense
Of their immovable grace,
For a fuel less planet
Would IMMOBILIZE this place.
Abrupt immobility
To bring chaos and mess
And the utter lost beauty
Of a girl in a dress,
And the time and space
To smell a good rose
Instead brittle chaos
Malevolently posed.
Bleak desolation
Of the world we hold dear
And a massive regression
To impoverished fear.
Marshalg
Looking thru the hour glass
4 July 2011
Only way to deliver this poem is SLAM and with vehemence!!
Jul 3, 2011
Jul 3, 2011 at 10:40 PM UTC
you made quite an impression on me
old man. Something about the dichotomy
of your mangled mechanical motion
and the cobble stone streets of Portland
-and every other city constructed with a bipedal complex-
made about as much sense to me as a lilac shooting
upwards through the parched desert earth. From the other
side of the street I saw your ***** calloused
hands grasping the wheels of your entrapment.
Hands for horses crooked legs for reigns,
your mind harbors the immutable knowledge that your
wheeled prison can't be escaped. But then, for a moment, it happens:
With a desire for movement unparalleled by even the most
diligent of wayfarers you break free from
the confines of immobility.
you are a great steamboat disembarking
from a familiar port, traversing the
***** rivers of black tar and cement,
fires stoked by the thoughts of what was and is no more,
drifting along to the tempo of a softly beating heart and
the feel of a woman's touch....
it pounds and you listen
and you and her are wrapped
tightly under sheets of linen again,
legs intertwined, arms embracing
the undulating curvatures
of a supple young body
and she says she loves you
and you say its requited
and she says we can make it
and you begin to run your
clean youthful fingers through her hair
and then boom,
your ship runs aground
and you once again become enslaved
to your affliction. Upon the curb
you sit old man, stagnant,
face in your ***** hands
thinking of where
you've been
and where you will never go.
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 6:53 PM UTC
pick the words simply
pick the words gently
pick them wisely
I will not think about it
there is no way, really to tell those stories
of beatnik couples who lead their lives with shaved heads
chorus dancing on their shoulders
and the smell of faint jasmine coming from their beds
drenched couples dark eyes and long hair
family affairs and endless nights of dislodgement and despair
grunted, shrieked, rolled in the mud
screamed mercy as I gasped for air
the grass rubbed against each other, only but slightly
whispers purge through the willow
the soul is stretched on the ground in essence beneath the feet
a coffin is sorely hushed into the grave
mothers silent thoughts fill heavy in the wind
it was that silence that took that life
it was not the knife
or the blade
it was that silence
they laid on the field till hormones injected sounds
that clung to the ground
that composed the life of one being in two
mirror smiles, and souls sacred
sacrifice forbidden
the sacrifice will happen
we fool ourselves so our tears will hurt less
hands pressed against chest
why am I like this
who are we
this forest is stained with calmly matter
this forest is stained with saddened childhoods
stained with empty fathers and raging mothers
hearts are stained
lives are stained
ticking time bomb
drenched, wedding dress with immobility
drained, tuxedo with non sense
only to wake up 20 years later with
adultery splattered on your genitals
chaos imprinted on your fingers in every language
and then dismembering,
built with tyranny
falling apart limb by limb like a cremated body
seconds pass as if you were drowning
to come out of the water
is to risk everything
do you want to live
there is no excuse for your masquerade
your so called love parade, your color filled renegade
brittle bones sit staggered along the skin
of a youthful resident
who will cry no more at lucrative behavior
of taunt gestures and a underlying laughter
that only similar skin can touch
with its own experience and understanding
on that thing that sometimes looses its meaning
beneath conventional skies
I am a human, I am not a human
a soul love love
I witnessed that
suffocated between similar height
and jawline
Apr 11, 2011
Apr 11, 2011 at 5:00 PM UTC
It's like live how? like you make it
copy down the sad crown
ride the wheel you made it
the strong misguided hatred.
-eclipse-
Bathing naked
The flurried atom swarms and indulgent desires strip me of my latest confirmed identity.
thoughts and painted-eyes
Department earlobe tenants remorse filled by the
phantasmagoric patience and comfort of pain.
So plain and petty feels like I'm crying "lone wolf!" double knot shoe tie
finite coffer rusty nails-stick latent reparation clips of manta ray striking tail whips.
The core is stifled to trip and fall upon the wet autumn leaves, broken twigs, and an earthly wisdom. Carry us, oh misleading stranger to a different home with Velcro that sticks to platelets and crust that covers elbows.
Hatred is stronger for the long-suffering and confusion when what we need is light
The fierce reserve beckoned to fight after immobility subsides and clears clutter away from the self-loathing, shame, and spiritual fatigue.
Maybe today is the day. This spot is reserved anyway and the wolves seem hungry.
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 1:12 PM UTC
You brought me a monster disguised as a mime
Said it was my time to get it talking
I pondered what great a gift to set something free
While in the shadows you put blood in the water
Then fed it to me
I remember lips moving, but never the words
I remember immobility, but never the verbs
(How two-faced is instinct when masked
With a drug you've never tasted before?)
I thought I had shaken this feeling of quiver
Until you delivered me straight to the sheep
Who immediately sank their teeth and grinned
They still had fleece: The joke's on me
At the same time your obsession wavered
Said to savor the memories and the mystery
For what I didn't know would **** me
And so your hands are clean
But I knew something too
A sober fool- yes
But even drunk on your first elixir
I could see through you
Kept coming back to catch you in the act
Partaking in your habits to appease your false politeness
Until it painted my world black-
But I was so close
Just wanted to know a piece of you worth saving
But you feared my mind's sedition-
You mistook napkin stories
For published ammunition
And so gained pleasure in wetting your fingers
And putting out my flame
Keeping secret tallies with your body-snatchers
As to when I'd burn out and fade away
But what you never told them
And will never tell the future
The truth-
Your scars may be invisible
But fire burns in fury when it's blue
So I'll be waiting in my exile
Till the end of days
When the haze has lifted
Your spell has broken
And the Creator returns to its rightful owner
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 11:45 PM UTC
I stared at your face I was touched by the look you had on your face it contained sadness mixed with
Beauty and the unforgettable serious that holds as you look upon your face your blond hair frames you
So well the more I looked the more the human ebbed and flowed from your picture I’m only left to
Guess about the real you but you came at a time when I need to connect to another human being
Stillness the photo was snapped when your lips were open as if you were getting ready to speak it
Creates a haunting quality blue eyes of cool hard or tender they match your circumstances to rule
By the spirit if you are invaded you fall back to the wall now everything is right your strength rushes
Forth your fortress at your back is not your power or defense it is your confidence the inner swelling
Well you are not unfamiliar with life’s jagged edge your hands not visible truly will carry the marks of
Scars a defender will call out the warning then lead the necessary charge with a boldness the field holds
No greater honor than selfless sacrifice a pillar that stands fearless when you know you are in the right
Only the lonely know true glory a rock Asbury carbon by this fuel a dynamo has its switch flipped she
Drinks courage in like it’s her own homemade brew she strikes a pose sweet as a rose and truly the river
Widens its flow the heavens burst into a glow a soul of fire has passed among the dark and wild wood
Just a visitor that left her words that were indeed silent with wisdom beamed from her essence she took
And held our imagination for a little while shared her humanness broadened our existence stillness
Captures by its frozen immobility it wills and holds you until it evokes in you a response tenderness
Speaks a language all its own it never fails it has all the emotional tools that works in the soul thanks
Desert woman there are truly streams in the desert you prove that thank you
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 7:46 PM UTC
Fear of the next day
Content at the thought of being inside
The world and the people you know
May be there but do they care
Really care and pass their day in the
Mirror of your life
Hankering after a peaceful finale
A strange edifice of warming thoughts
Surrounding my heart and my simple body
Do not keep a vigil on me
Don't pretend you care
When you quite simply aren't even
In the wreck of the days proceedings
I cannot tell you the things you need to hear
My voice is silent as the moon
I feel sorry for you but then
You feel the same way for yourslf
Isn't that how it gets when time
Just ticks away at the clockface of immobility
My love is still here as ever it was
I always think poor man
I can't justify this message as it manifests
A lump within my throat and I can hear
My heart beating out an untimely rhythm
Afraid of the future, don't be
Your resolve is impressive
Continue your day to day survival
You will surprise yourself as weeks
turn into months then years
There is a life, just believe it
For each must bear the hard cross of lost
Passion and of pleasant encounters
It seems that these count for nothing in the
Short term of soul searching and nostalgia
Nothing is now beyond you
Your best period may be just about to arrive.
For my friend Ken
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 4:07 PM UTC
May I have a slice, please? Plain would be fine...
a plain slice of happiness
no sir, I don't have Cancer or MS,
I'm not not a paraplegic or quadriplegic,
haven't served my country and lost limbs,
I'm nowhere near as heart sore as so many,
my plain pain is just -
plain but powerful
in a plainly powerful way
is it possible that
when I feel
that life has taken a nose dive
when it crashes,
I'd prefer to sink than swim?
is that ok?
hope so.
drown in molasses of every day,
try that an any age,
struggle with every decision made,
wrestle with forces that come
at you from every side of life...
wry smile, wry groan,
there is no explaining,
when you chose one thing over another
it is one that missed out
that,
of course was...
is my heart shattering,
my tiresome immobility,
lessened because it is
unseen on
the outward unbound,
leeward side?
is plain pain somehow
insufficient, lacking in
character?
the delirious mystery
of my thoughts
doesn't need spicing,
oregano or basil,
sympathy cards,
and tsk tsk cluckings....
but the steady erosion of exhaustion
weakens me in ways
that leaves me
asking, hoping,
for just
a plain slice of happiness
how can that cost so much?
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
You
You drive me nuts
All I can do is think of you
And how you so easily control me
I pride myself on being independent
But all you do is look at me
And craving your control
I become yours
Craving your hand on my throat
Your marks on my body
The immobility from your control
Your body pressed against me
I must feel your bite on my skin
You pulling my hair
Your hands roaming my body
Your breath on my chest
I must hear you say "mine"
The quit sound of undoing my bra
Your sigh of approval as you look at me
Your breathing next to my ear
I must see you smile at me
The pride in your face for having me
The relaxed version of you
The controlling you
You make me crazy
But I'm addicted
I must have more
You
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 7:57 AM UTC
The light was unexpected
Frightful
Its debut was never foreseen
Arbitrary fear
She is unable to open her eyes without
Fear of the light’s departure,
What is the dove never flies again?
Or the wind ceases to soothe?
Of the bars of her rotting cage
Disintegrate
But her eyes don’t understand that
She is free?
The cage remains
Indefinitely defining immobility,
Self-suffocation
Hands frozen around her face
And all she is able to see is
Her broken reflection
And him, unidentified and without identity,
Abandoning her
To a ceaseless cycle
Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 9:18 PM UTC
In the bosoms of all that is
There is darkness
For all things come from it
And all things end therein
There is peace in the darkness
It is untouched by the entropies of the world
Chaos it knows not, warmth is its being
In its kindly embrace, there is no conflict
There is truth in the darkness
It was before aught else came to be
When even the deeps of time,
lay without foundation,
The darkness reigned supreme
There is wisdom in the darkness
Forever it has sought to teach
That the senses unsullied by light
are pristine, profound and everlasting
There is beauty in the darkness
Such that needs no eyes to see
A realm of peace and harmony
in balance with all that should be
There is life in the darkness
It has fostered all that there is
For it lived before even emptiness came to be
All has passed through its gaze
There is eternity in the darkness
Enduring through the ravaging light it has,
transcended the realms of being
The darkness shall exist
Unconquered, unbroken
and forever awaiting those that seek
the joy ; that dwells only in,
the hallowed immobility
within the halls of darkness
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 6:17 AM UTC
black storms rage in his eyes
fierce, frightening dust devils
making silent apocalyptic statements
while searching for identity
recording the sound of color
black, white, red, green, blue
experiencing a drift of thought
as if floating in a dream
menaced suddenly by vowels
distorted, disconnected in delirium
he perceives a frequency in the air
like disturbed hidden speech
or a dream that cannot find
its alternative
and whose function it is
to study drug wasted features
of a skeletal torso
or to recall the unrelieved
immobility of time and place
to write the color of sound
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 5:22 PM UTC
It’s too quiet here despite
the mutterings of the furnace, angry
at me? At nothing.
There’s the jackhammer on the stale
gray concrete just outside;
I feel it more.
There’s the pounding rushing
feet stampeding all around my knotted immobility racing my
heart my hurt-- still
it’s silent,
as I stare into the empty
void
devoid
of you.
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 1:30 PM UTC