Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"immobilized" poems
Inside these dimensions of my prison, paralyzed, immobilized, shattered in fragments of fear, I utter stifled screams from my body heap, piled on the hardwood floor c        r      u                             m   b         l i          n g trapped, desolate and wretched in mind, what is left of me after invasion and ravage? Chase away this these vultures and thieves, so to shut out this duality blinding me, a rabbit caught in headlights                                                        up                                         me                            pick
0
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
Rest & Nutrition
I put so much effort into random places, so much effort into random faces face it im faceless placeless drifting shifting thoughts towards destiny feeling empty, wondering whats left in me...? messages esoteric terrorize my rhetoric pedestrians staring glaring gazin gotta get a second look shook layers shed, fall from those ancient snakes left for dead suffocated, stranded damaged god ****** this sunless planet is madness immobilized try to find sense in a broke world what are hands without manipulation? and in life? death is a stipulation a fools gold is never within grasp so clasp delusions Grandiose with a toast to sham pain and champagne emptied grails course through mans veins oh to see what mirrors saw would reflections appear at all? peer into the endless ego see nothing but self libido we are all weary travelers, existences' eternal passengers remove masks, flasks, end the charade let serpents slither, and sun bath away from the shade embrace the end of nights push away the start of days just keep in mind which way             the pendulum sways
0
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 10:29 PM UTC
ancient snakes (masquerade)
I am too close for him to dream about me. I'm not flying over him, not fleeing him under the roots of trees. I am too close. Not with my voice sings the fish in the net. Not from my finger rolls the ring. I am too close. A large house is on fire without my calling for help. Too close for a bell dangling from my hair to chime. Too close for me to enter as a guest before whom the walls part. Never again will I die so readily, so far beyond the flesh, so inadvertently as once in his dream. I am too close, too close—I hear the hiss and see the glittering husk of that word, as I lie immobilized in his embrace. He sleeps, more available at this moment to the ticket lady of a one-lion traveling circus seen but once in his life than to me lying beside him. Now a valley grows for her in him, ochre-leaved, closed off by a snowy mountain in the azure air. I am too close to fall out of the sky for him. My scream might only awaken him. Poor me, limited to my own form, but I was a birch tree, I was a lizard, I emerged from satins and sundials my skins shimmering in different colors. I possessed the grace to disappear from astonished eyes, and that is the rich man's riches. I am too close, too close for him to dream about me. I slip my arm out from under his sleeping head. It's numb, full of imaginary pins and needles. And on the head of each, ready to be counted, dance the fallen angels.
0
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 6:53 AM UTC
I am too close for him by Wislawa Szymborska
I can't compute and become mute When you walk by My circuitry is fried Because your program is an encryption And your pulse is electromagnetic My car dies, so does my phone, so does my home I'm immobilized And demoralized By immoral ties To temporary generators They're validating veneraters Ultimately unsatisfying When you're still not buying I'm attracted to your charge Until there's a battery Yet you're the cure to your lure The EMT for your EMP Your negative charge casts a cloud around my nucleus But if you could be positive for a change We could meet in the middle And feel energy in our synergy But as soon as I feel electricity between us You shut me down With your EMP I can't get free
0
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 6:14 AM UTC
EMP
stars hang out at night linen left to dry red geraniums along the balconies nodding, nodding willing to agree to anything just to keep their color a gang of kids running through the streets faceless pranksters the moon a plate held before each face who am i? saying who am i running through the streets saying who am i the shadows of the buildings becoming cats that move away the trees immobilized left to stand alone in the dark rubbing their bark from regret like cicadas oranges have more delicacy softly falling, falling in the groves on the hills softly eaten, eaten by the earth swallowed whole as if by a snake not earth as if by millions slithering in the groves at night millions stalking the oranges that fall softly softly to the earth hunting there in the groves that form a ring around each town
0
5.7k
oranges from the south of spain
Hummingbird heart flutters in your throat. It's like having someone squeeze your lungs slowly. It must be what dying feels like, Hummingbird heart. You know how their wings beat so fast and hard, How you only see the blur? Hummingbird heart, It HURTS to be so fast inside. Whirring like a machine out of control, overheating, Friction fire in your throat, Tears escaping bare and raw. It hurts to be so vicious, like a runaway train with sparks flying. Hummingbird heart, Stuck on the other side of glass, pounding, pounding to get out. Hummingbird heart, faster, faster. A balloon about to burst. Whirring, spinning, shivering. Hummingbird heart, Nowhere to run. Hummingbird heart, Nothing to be done. Hummingbird heart, Hemmed in, stuck fast, immobilized. Hummingbird heart, Speeding up, frantic, painful. Hummingbird heart, You don't have long.
0
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 9:21 PM UTC
The Whir of Tiny Wings
Homophobia is not funny. Care to hear what is? The wrenching fear boring holes in your best friend’s once bright eyes every Thursday afternoon, when she must enter a changing room filled with hostile glares The violent purple bruise re-emerging beneath your brother’s left eye the same bruise he told your mother about three weeks ago that he’d “gotten in a rugby accident” The gnawing feeling of loneliness in your classmate’s stomach as she lies in an otherwise empty bed no longer able to hold her girlfriend’s hand in public following a run-in with her mother at the supermarket The boy next door who can’t bring himself to leave his bed Immobilized with anxiety and wrapped up in the sheets (it’s been six days, nine hours, and forty-two minutes since he told his best friend.) The young woman who serves you your coffee on Saturdays living on less than minimum wage for three years now Since her mother left her to the streets The kind boy you used to date, he’s been single for years Caught and confused between miserable safety and endless happiness - - - I lied before. Not an ounce of wit lies within these words. This is simply an open letter to homophobes: Find some ******* ******* originality for your jokes.
0
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 9:04 PM UTC
Queer
forgiveness for self is a thunderstorm ferocious, cracking sounds so god awful fearful that one questions his-her sanity, an overage so unnatural that only nature could create it it is a moment momentousness when the exhalation of exhaustion, the winner and loser, both you, surrender ne’er knowing which you is which, life’s son of ***** or just a plain jane mothering version, either way you say to yourself got to get past that lousy stinking love affair win the race to clean slate, where the end is insight where everything replaced in its used to be placed goaded into melted nothingness, goaded into believing that’s a real thing, that when you finally get there, enough is enough,   get out of jail ticket will work, but it ain’t never free, even if you paid for it in what you call throwing bad after good, monopoly money, nope, ain’t never free no idea what to put in the second empty closet, who needs an attached to-the-wall-tile toothbrush holder with one extra emptying space, where to hide picture albums in a space outta sight, outta mind, you still can find why you didn’t care enough to daily mat-wipe street shoes before riveted in place before entering your own! apartment and no, you are consciously unconscious immobilized by the missing calling out of her “don’t forget” in the car’s ashtray, a red kissed blotted red lipstick tissue that needs discard-action, but you incapable of either, those collected records and cd’s, her teasing your old fashion ways, reluctance to let go so you read “that to forgive one self doesn’t forgive forgetting” and it hits home, home run, score to the core, since you wrote those words on a sun rain afternoon, a punctuating thunderstorm day refusing to decide which haunts worse <>
0
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 5:04 PM UTC
“forgiving myself doesn’t forgive forgetting”
forgiveness for self is a thunderstorm ferocious, cracking sounds so god awful fearful that one questions his-her sanity, an overage so unnatural that only nature could create it it is a moment momentousness when the exhalation of exhaustion, the winner and loser, both you, surrender ne’er knowing which you is which, life’s son of ***** or just a plain jane mothering version, either way you say to yourself got to get past that lousy stinking love affair win the race to clean slate, where the end is insight where everything replaced in its used to be placed goaded into melted nothingness, goaded into believing that’s a real thing, that when you finally get there, enough is enough,   get out of jail ticket will work, but it ain’t never free, even if you paid for it in what you call throwing bad after good, monopoly money, nope, ain’t never free no idea what to put in the second empty closet, who needs an attached to-the-wall-tile toothbrush holder with one extra emptying space, where to hide picture albums in a space outta sight, outta mind, you still can find why you didn’t care enough to daily mat-wipe street shoes before riveted in place before entering your own! apartment and no, you are consciously unconscious immobilized by the missing calling out of her “don’t forget” in the car’s ashtray, a red kissed blotted red lipstick tissue that needs discard-action, but you incapable of either, those collected records and cd’s, her teasing your old fashion ways, reluctance to let go so you read “that to forgive one self doesn’t forgive forgetting” and it hits home, home run, score to the core, since you wrote those words on a sun rain afternoon, a punctuating thunderstorm day refusing to decide which haunts worse <>
Continue reading...
55
I saw an old man crying at the precipice of his sanity, ten stories above the sea, and the world at his feet, a helo-deck: a principality that had the worn out lay of home. So trivialized. So fantasized. So immobilized. Transmitting pirate-radio-waves eternally. Seized the tower. Hoisted the flag. Crowned the queen. "I've no blood right, only a passport," he said. "But do have the right mindset: I can't leave, we're so dangerous. Don't be a stranger now, we'll never be this dangerous again..."
0
Nov 22, 2022
Nov 22, 2022 at 5:45 PM UTC
Sealand
I've hit a wall lately A wall so tall it seems impassable. I wake up daily to it encompassing my bed. Making waking up a test of endurance. Once I'm passed that, there's just another wall. Around social interactions, work, moving, and to be honest. It's all just ******* walls. Walls I thought I broke down, that are now 10x as big. Did I mention my fear of heights? I take pills that are supposed to help, and they do, but these halflives are nothing compared to these walls. They're made not of cement but of sentiment and wicked dreams. Thoughts of all the horrible options that could be. Thoughts of a depressed self and a depressed spouse. "You think the kid can tell?" That I'm loosing my grip? That I'm terrified of the monsters under the bed? I'm immobilized by my own mind like a car tire boot on my will to try. Wish someone would tow me off to oblivion. Or at least a place I could relax. I'd modestly ask for just a few moments escape. From all these walls
0
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 9:16 AM UTC
Walls
When you left, you took with you my ability to move, My ability to breathe, my ability to speak. You stole my muscles and my bones, My senses and my desires. I can no longer taste your lips on mine, Or smell your shampoo on my pillow. I can no longer hear your voice calling my name, See your smile, nor feel your hands wrapped around my waist. All that is left for me to feel is the crushing blanket of loneliness, A knit wool too warm to cuddle with under the covers, Too heavy to hold to my chest to give it freedom to rise and fall. My body is numb, my brain is numb, my heart is numb. I can feel the darkness of the vast and empty night sky above me, Slowly lowering down to Earth, directly to my empty bed, And for a single moment, I want to feel like the universe is safe, Like it isn’t about to crush me and my heart isn’t about to explode. For I am left without shield, you, my warrior, my one-man army, And I am immobilized and unprotected, And there is no way in hell I can win the next World War against myself. Escape is my only option to divert the attention from my hiding place, To prevent the enemy of me from further destroying my soul and consuming my body. So if I’m lost, please don’t find me, and if I jump, please let me sink, For darkness has fallen on this sunlit winter day, And the sweet crescent moon no longer casts a light on my pillow, Leaving only shadows of Heaven in the darkness.
0
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 9:24 PM UTC
Immobilized
Colors flood my vision Sounds unimaginable Achieving pleasure and pain The world is spinning around To the sound of music Flashing lights give way In a trance Feeling the intensity of the spectrum Immobilized Sound waves pounding Laying in a pool of color Dazzled by the sound and color Enchanted by its deliverance Encompassed by neon lights Ravaged by the beats Overwhelmed
0
Dec 23, 2011
Dec 23, 2011 at 2:52 AM UTC
Sensory Overload
There always was a face under this mask-- living skin, stifled under the thick, white layers immobilized by: fear the expectations/exhortations/excoriations Logic found at the bottom of empty wine bottles, the dregs and sludge of sediment. Hairline cracks, deepening, flaking, peeling, tiny pieces, larger chunks, the slow work of years until my fingers ripping, prying, tearing a sudden rending of it all. I raise my naked face to the sun, feel the wind on my cheek. Take one, long, full breath. Hello. It's good to be.
0
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 12:37 AM UTC
Plaster of Paris (2013-2014)
I was frozen to the bed When he reached inside me With his hands and his staff And stole something from me. Yes, I was bleeding, But he did not draw his knife. It was fear that kept me immobilized. His act, perpetretrated while I was mentally tied, Has taken my ability to feel safe in my own body. It has ruined dark corners and altered my mornings, Left me feeling vulnerable and torn shreds through my psyche. The **** of a partner ruined all intimacy. His crime was not one of sheer physical brutality, But an act of Mental Violence That has forever altered me.
0
May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 12:20 AM UTC
Mental Violence
In 2008, I lay upon the floor,   disabled, pain hobbled, my back unable to properly space the Lego discs that keep a man upright king and absolute ruler, was I of the carpet. in the little blue room off the kitchen, where solace in loneliness, was my little heaven in hell. It was my blue period, When you decided to leave And try to take everything But hang around our apartment to practice, practice making misery your profession. It was the same little blue room, years before I ran to, for a few hours rest after tending to you, nursing your cancer needs, fetching, most fetching, I fetched and fluffed, shopped and tended, and comforted, after working all day. Now three years on, on the floor of the same little blue room, unable to move, weakly, wounded, brokebacked, I was a soldier, in a deep trench, almost paralyzed, caught tween desk and bed called your name, even though there was nothing you could have done. Role reversal, years later, roll reversal, roll from the bed to the floor, fallen, immobilized, I rued the morning light, for men must work and women must weep, work and weep, this morning, I was responsible for both. I called you name repeatedly, in a peculiar voice, agreed, the voice of wrack and ruination, after hearing you slippers shuffle a two step at 2 Am, outside the little blue room, oh for many a minute, in the middle of the night, calling, calling perhaps, you would help me to rise, oh yes, just to help me stand, on my bent back, my own legs Somehow one finds a way, is it not always that way? Later, I asked. Did you hear me call you name in the middle of the night? Oh yes. But your voice sounded so weird, I would not go in. Years later, I asked again. Just get over it, you replied, matter of factly. Today, years later, I ask again, right now, right here, I ask but a different question. Do you think I am over it now? Oct 15th 2011
0
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 6:42 AM UTC
Do you think I am over it now?
In 2008, I lay upon the floor,   disabled, pain hobbled, my back unable to properly space the Lego discs that keep a man upright king and absolute ruler, was I of the carpet. in the little blue room off the kitchen, where solace in loneliness, was my little heaven in hell. It was my blue period, When you decided to leave And try to take everything But hang around our apartment to practice, practice making misery your profession. It was the same little blue room, years before I ran to, for a few hours rest after tending to you, nursing your cancer needs, fetching, most fetching, I fetched and fluffed, shopped and tended, and comforted, after working all day. Now three years on, on the floor of the same little blue room, unable to move, weakly, wounded, brokebacked, I was a soldier, in a deep trench, almost paralyzed, caught tween desk and bed called your name, even though there was nothing you could have done. Role reversal, years later, roll reversal, roll from the bed to the floor, fallen, immobilized, I rued the morning light, for men must work and women must weep, work and weep, this morning, I was responsible for both. I called you name repeatedly, in a peculiar voice, agreed, the voice of wrack and ruination, after hearing you slippers shuffle a two step at 2 Am, outside the little blue room, oh for many a minute, in the middle of the night, calling, calling perhaps, you would help me to rise, oh yes, just to help me stand, on my bent back, my own legs Somehow one finds a way, is it not always that way? Later, I asked. Did you hear me call you name in the middle of the night? Oh yes. But your voice sounded so weird, I would not go in. Years later, I asked again. Just get over it, you replied, matter of factly. Today, years later, I ask again, right now, right here, I ask but a different question. Do you think I am over it now? Oct 15th 2011
Continue reading...
95
Hopelessly wandering I am at an impasse Immobilized by desire There is no way out. Freedom awaits me I can hear it's cries But I turn a deaf ear My lover pulls me back. A hypnotising smile And tranquillizing touch Invade my mind And Control my body. Liberation will come someday I can hear freedom cry Another day I will leave perhaps Today my lover needs me. Captured in a conundrum Intriguing mystery abounds Captivating me to decipher Perpetual perplexity. I hear the screams closing in Freedom is more persistent I ready myself to join the calls But my lover has my hand. © Tina Thompson
0
Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 7:20 AM UTC
[DeAdLoCkEd]
Piercing your eardrums Cower in fear as you hear the deafening howl of a hellhound Echoing of deathbrought crying and screaming of banshees Body burned from the inside incineration by the infernal flames burning from the black flames of hell While being immobilized by the cold lifeless kiss from death Pain? None come close to that feeling when you find out that your loved one loves someone else
0
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 7:07 AM UTC
The Breaking Point
Immobilized I gaze at the ceiling Remembering the moments that led to this evening I choke on the words I dare not say Forced to deal with the pain that plagues me each day Piercing each nerve Giving way to exasperation Resentment hangs heavy and I feel suffocated Another day alone plotting my reparation These fantasies could end my senses and reason I wish I could inflict the same anguish upon him Wounding his pride leaving him with nothing If only he could feel helplessness and shame To a degree in which he would never be the same Only then could my hate begin to wane
0
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 10:06 PM UTC
Eye for an Eye
We are immobilized veins thick with toxins brains saturated with synthetic sensation. Get out of bed pill pundits. Who do you love? There is bliss without a script. Somewhere. Look at yourself ****** harlots. Now look in the mirror. Is it a surprise that the same face didn’t appear? Stand straight, sloppy sippers. Take the flask out of your glove compartment you can’t pregame life. Come clean, nicotine queens. We say we do it because we don’t care when we die but I care if you draw your last shallow breath before mine. We are the machine, **** fiends. We can’t be fueled by ten sacks and melancholic dead dreams. I am envious sober superstars, of your greatest feat, waking in the morning and walking on your own two feet.
0
Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 3:58 AM UTC
Yearning for a Life, Unmedicated
The innocent and the ignorant think it’s always just like the movies and criminal tv shows. A black eye, bruises, a battered and beaten woman crying in a shower or hospital bed. They always ask “why didnt you go to the police?!” I can remember how it all started, even as far back as middle school. My neighborhood was the last stop for the bus which only left us the choice to sit in back with the bad kids, the older boys. They made me sit on their hands, talked about my ******* grabbed us, touched us and tormented us. Unless she is black and blue, no one will believe she’s the victim. He was going out for a smoke and I needed fresh air. I followed him up the stairs and somehow was at his room, he just had to grab his pack. I asked for a drink of water... I woke up, he had me completely immobilized with his body and just one hand, shirt up, pants down. I couldn’t move at all. “He knew I wanted it, that I liked it”... I tried to take control, I tried to ****** him to let me go. Finally I but his lip so hard he let me go. I left first thing the next morning. I drank too much and I could not drive home, I asked to sleep a little at a friends house before driving home. He took that as an invitation for *** He pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed despite adamant NO NO NO. I was a ***** a tease, what was I holding out for, he knew I wanted it... he finally got his way, I had no where else to go. I’ve woken up to boyfriends touching me, having *** with me - somehow the understanding was that this is my duty as a girlfriend, conscious, willing or not... These stories can go on and on. They didn’t beat me, I wasn’t battered and bruised but I was forced against my will. I knew there was no proof to support me, and who would believe the girl who stayed out too late, drank too much or gave in to her boyfriend. Boys will be boys I have witnessed this with many friends and was speechless to speak out... it’s not as easy as you think. It has become an expectation for women. Sometimes you finally give in just to make the harassment stop. But there are those men, the ones that will take their time, that no means no, who realize there is time to get there if the feeling is right... we need more men like this. Raise your boys right and your women strong. ❤️
0
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 8:02 PM UTC
Me too
The innocent and the ignorant think it’s always just like the movies and criminal tv shows. A black eye, bruises, a battered and beaten woman crying in a shower or hospital bed. They always ask “why didnt you go to the police?!” I can remember how it all started, even as far back as middle school. My neighborhood was the last stop for the bus which only left us the choice to sit in back with the bad kids, the older boys. They made me sit on their hands, talked about my ******* grabbed us, touched us and tormented us. Unless she is black and blue, no one will believe she’s the victim. He was going out for a smoke and I needed fresh air. I followed him up the stairs and somehow was at his room, he just had to grab his pack. I asked for a drink of water... I woke up, he had me completely immobilized with his body and just one hand, shirt up, pants down. I couldn’t move at all. “He knew I wanted it, that I liked it”... I tried to take control, I tried to ****** him to let me go. Finally I but his lip so hard he let me go. I left first thing the next morning. I drank too much and I could not drive home, I asked to sleep a little at a friends house before driving home. He took that as an invitation for *** He pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed despite adamant NO NO NO. I was a ***** a tease, what was I holding out for, he knew I wanted it... he finally got his way, I had no where else to go. I’ve woken up to boyfriends touching me, having *** with me - somehow the understanding was that this is my duty as a girlfriend, conscious, willing or not... These stories can go on and on. They didn’t beat me, I wasn’t battered and bruised but I was forced against my will. I knew there was no proof to support me, and who would believe the girl who stayed out too late, drank too much or gave in to her boyfriend. Boys will be boys I have witnessed this with many friends and was speechless to speak out... it’s not as easy as you think. It has become an expectation for women. Sometimes you finally give in just to make the harassment stop. But there are those men, the ones that will take their time, that no means no, who realize there is time to get there if the feeling is right... we need more men like this. Raise your boys right and your women strong. ❤️
Continue reading...
12
Like a rock immobilized, Even breathing had Escaped me. I tried To cry out but only A whimper came about. Shyly she sauntered so Close to me, smiling from Such a seductive scent. The bewilderment Of my heart, Thrown off script. Sighed did I, As she left my eye Headed to some class. A campus can be Quite the cruel place.
0
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 1:59 PM UTC
Cruel Campus
I was only 7, So was she, Her illness came, A tumor in her brain, Killing her, Making her slightly demented, That explains why she beat me up, She was my best friend, And at 7 that meant everything to me, The doctors, They tried saving her, But in reality it seemed like they were killing her, At 7, I watched her go through it all, They shaved her hair, I remember the stitches on her head, Or maybe I'm making that up, Her memories are buried, But I remember how she gained weight, The skinny little girl Became an overweight,immobilized child, Slowly my best friend couldn't walk, Couldn't feed herself, Couldn't bathe herself, I watched as she died, I went to her wake, Her lifeless body,purple and cold, I placed a note in her coffin, To this day I'm unsure what I wrote in it, I hope something comforting, I went to her funeral, And I didn't cry, I remember feeling bad about it, But I was just remembering the good times, When we ran around the hospital getting candy in the store, So unaware, When we dressed up for Halloween, And when we shared a bed, We are still best friends, Best friends even in the grave.
0
Sep 26, 2011
Sep 26, 2011 at 7:04 PM UTC
Tumors **** people not friendships
I want to melt into you Lay my cheek upon your chest Dissolve my emotions in your shirt Whisper to you that you're the best Cuddle up to greater warmth Hold me close like precious treasure Eyes closed to savor this moment Fingers play alone for pleasure Immobilized by your magical touch Continuously I grow fonder Drastic desires flood my mind Pull me, bite me take me yonder
0
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 11:37 PM UTC
*Take me yonder
Caught in a web Unable to break free Trapped Immobilized My heart is a castaway On a desert island Always seeing an oasis But never quite reaching it No hope Of rescue Merely tortured survival I have foundered on the rocks Lured by the incomparable song Of a siren Deluded by illusory dreams Longing to slake my thirst To find some relief From the searing heat The soul rending pain Hooks gouge my flesh Stringing me up Over a pit of molten fire I have no strength left Even to scream I merely whimper Piteously Begging for an end To this agony Alas No mercy is forthcoming My sentence is eternal Always just within reach Of my heart's desire Seeing clearly But never able to grasp To realize No change No hope Only pain I am stuck In limbo.
0
Jun 8, 2011
Jun 8, 2011 at 12:38 PM UTC
Limbo