"incapability" poems
Being suicidal doesn't mean i'm going to **** myself
Being suicidal is having this unexplicable ache while you're living
It's waiting for your life to end, and wishing you didn't have to carry on
Having this ache, an incapability to feel happy living, doesn't mean that I am going to **** myself -
It just means I wouldn't mind dying.
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 11:02 PM UTC
I used to believe in good old days,
Still concerned about the little ways.
To get back in my childhood era.
Those uncountable acquaintances,
Now they are just faded faces.
Buzzing around oftentimes,
I do look at them with all my gracious Rhymes.
Those long sandwalks, I heard many voices & those preacher talks.
Standing on the top of a pile,
I saw the world with my pure human eyes.
My incapability of not performing as others,
Don’t forget we came from different mothers.
Though the course may be disturbingly fascinating,
Spot you there at the end of the lives you kept devastating.
I walked clean and I did no mean.
There was nothing to fear, but one day someone molested me who was so near.
Crippled inside myself that night,
Was so devastated couldn’t spoke a word inspite.
Moments still glare, dig in your knife so that you can pare.
Shadows no more controls me,
I fiercely play with them, and still move freely.
Enjoyed every bit just like my first bicycle wheelie.
I did both,from playing with slum folks to slept like a sloth.
Now I miss my never ending era.
Entered my puberty,
with little bit of curiosity
To not to have those thoughts control authority.
I was wild, a state called child.
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
Never judge a book by its cover - they say.
Never believe a man's word over his actions - they say.
Never trust without reason - they say.
Why not? - I say.
Humanity (as a virtue) is being crippled by humans as they
stride
past the crippled man, hunched-back and desperate to extend,
to stand up,
to reach out
for that can of coffee at the grocery store.
As they violate, debilitate and penetrate our
minds by starving
us of
education
and
taunt
us
with
grant
money.
As they reduce our
complexity and significance and capabilities
to
stats
charts
numbers
lines
dots
.
As they stand, staring
up
eleven floors
at a flailing, failing student ready to
jump.
As they stereotype us
into boxes
that we use to hold our belongings -
our interior design.
As they spend more
money in one day
than they
pay
the gardener over
a week.
As they scoff down ketchuped french fries
after saying they were
starving
whilst they edge
forward
at the
robot
to
ignore
hungry begging children.
As they complain about being
alone
when the others around them are also
human.
That's just it.
The 'they' that we always speak of,
'They'
are us.
Unsheltered, not oblivious -
we see the misery, suffering,
pathetic pain -
but we are ignorant of the
barefoot woman with
a load
on her head and
a life
on her back,
asking for a
lift.
Some of us see the strain
but convince ourselves that our efforts would be
insignificant,
assure ourselves that it is
hopeless,
we are helpless.
Science and religion
seem like parallel lines but
they
converge on the point that
Mankind
is a superior species.
'Made in his image.'
'Increased cranial capacity, developed the ability to reason.'
Yet we use that magnificence to justify our
INcapability?
Advanced beings in an age of connectivity and
so disconnected from the essence of our own kind.
We decide
to be
alone.
There are rainbows of
'umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu'
but Ubuntu becomes
'don't want to'
and apathy is what makes us insignificant
- indifferent and inhumane.
To those who
can read this,
we
are hypocrites
- together -
which means that we are never alone and thus we are made
able.
We are not helpless, we just
Help Less.
I refuse to hope less in humanity
and allow us to be coaxed into an inferiority-complex
when we can have
progress and
success but
Only after we have
oneness.
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 11:00 AM UTC
watch you, whisper to you
i want to touch your body
every inch of your flesh should be categorized in to a file cabinet
to be ordered by sensation and rhythm
a ***** sweaty affair of taking inventory of the defense of the other team
"what hurts them" "what helps them" "what makes them giggle" "what makes them moan"
i know what it takes to make them moan
its a war out here and every is invited,
to the war of the lost, stepped on, and rejected
against the rainbows, puppies, and ******
i want feel your sculpted dancing legs
i want to lick the death off her skin
carcass her imperfectly perfect body
********** the subject is a delicate process
first, the physical clothes,
then, the emotional barriers
finally, the mental incapability
at the end, you are presented with the most pure human form
a fully **** model of your great white buffalo.
for me.... it the one that got away, she sings in the shower
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 3:21 AM UTC
Why is it that it is when I am most alone, I feel most present?
I feel like an alien on Earth. I do not understand how I was birthed here.
My home is beyond my physical state, my home is beyond my emotions, and even my desires. My home is where none of those things could dream to reach, in all their perversity and incapability. I will not hurry from Earth, but I do know that this does not even slightly resemble my home.
How blessed I am to know what I am not.
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 2:39 AM UTC
Love, night, bodies, world, eyes,
Darkness, lust, life, belong, shine
Losing, time, Lord, death, grave, heart,
Helpless, hope, weep, bleeding
Agony, devil, embrace, souls, yearn,
Escape, awaken, lies, smile, light
Irrelevant, breathing, die, lips, kiss,
Illuminating, feared, everlasting
Unrighteousness, hatred, desired,
Christ, disgust, ever-changing
Grace, insanity, lingering, sinner,
Ailing, lurking, weakening, savior
Desperation, facade, knives, flaws,
Infected, evade, corrupting
Temptation, forgive, repent,
Contorting, unbreakable, incapability
Bewildered, demon, pain, lost,
Hopeless, dream, aching, shattered
God, truth, impossible, despise, drowning,
Shame, sparks, destroy, longing, flawless
These are my words
But is anybody
******* listening?
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 9:32 PM UTC
The idealisation of the far-fetched reality ,
Doesn't make it right.
The happiness coming from someone else's pain,
Doesn't make you thrive.
The insensebility of taking wrong decisions,
Doesn't make you look cute, just cruel and naive.
The passing on of the confusion,
Shows your incapability of commitment or in general Life.
The repetitiveness of a command,
Doesn't make people oblige.
It's a simple game...
A game of what's wrong and what's right!.
Of seeing things you ignored ,
Being a self-centred blind.
It's an opportunity to open yourself up,
For the things you've done to others,
and putting yourself in their shoes...
And.....REALISE.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 5:24 AM UTC
Lights dimmed
Red soft lights
Baroque colors everywhere
Like sipping wine in a coffin
Sweet, free, dead.
Like blood pouring out the vains
And it pains but there's no pain
A soft image of you. Dark ...Slim ..
Distant.
Constantly there
In my head
Constantly out of reach
In my life
And if I can take in this ******** I would.
and if I can make it better, I would.
And if you're disappointed then let it be.
Cause I made it be .
The rules and regulations put on me.
Renting a few moments of life, and a moment of you is what I need.
A moment I would pay morals for, disappointment for, guilt for.
Work, snakes, frienemies, money ***** white collar slavery, broken family, unwanted love, incapability, mistakes, lost.
But the image of you feels sweet.
A sweet maroon glass of wine
Divine
Mine ...
I wish
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 8:20 AM UTC
Our hands and mouths are like boats, they flip about in the turmoil of the sea's final storm.
so indecisive
knowledge is key; key is bankruptcy.
only if you have the key...
can you antelope, I can elephant, in the tetris island.
YOU FOOL. of course not. try again.
The beeper is left cold.
Only because you have to answer. you could change this you know. there are other possibilities.
like what? ranger ice?? I don't think so.
haha
no I laugh at your incapability of answering this question which is ,oh, so simple.
I'll give you one more chance
Glen.
One more chance.
Jun 24, 2012
Jun 24, 2012 at 7:14 AM UTC
My professor tells me-
"You have to be a strong individual."
I arm myself, I fight my demons,
I strive for the dignity and worth of individuals,
I can stand strong
Because I draw my strength from you.
Weighed down by social realities and unjust inequities,
Angered at the politics of life,
I lie in anguish and sorrow
And in my sense of incapability and numbness,
I think of you.
You, who cries with me and makes me smile,
You raise me back to living
Because you believe in me.
When I choose to talk philosophy,
And struggle to articulate my confusions,
I can stand
Because I know you don't judge me.
I see a little girl, bathed in dirt,
Her only toy a stick picked from the gutter,
And I break a little inside
At what is, and what ought to be.
When I'll eventually be convinced to take up a role
In such games of power,
I know you will be there to keep me tied to sanity.
When I lose my faith in human goodness,
Eclipsed by the hunger of men and women,
You take my hand and make me believe
In the beauty of art, of language,
Of music that punctures the soul and soothes the hurt.
In a world that understands only violence and **********
You show me friendship and compassion.
You could say it’s impossible to isolate oneself from the world.
You’re right.
But let not the whole annihilate the part,
Let not the universe overcome the soul.
When I begin to feel small and insignificant before the magnitude of life’s challenges and wonders,
You remind me of who I am.
We, who must share our lives with millions of others,
Let’s make our lives our own.
Why should the world bind us?
Why should life find us
Waiting for the world to change?
Let’s not sit through as the movie of our lives plays in the background.
With you by my side,
I can say loud and clear:
Come, let us stand strong together.
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 1:11 PM UTC
This body is to narrow to start the concrete picturesque poetry
As a marvelous bright sparkling spring into the pitch black marvel stone
My poems are shallow water running out of time climbing backwards
Shanti dances, Shakti watches, I ride the glossy magenta mountain byke Elementally through the potentially ***** city, gulping two little
flying spoons wwhhpp mhm
of
Brilliant IO Ag
Helth guarantieed on the nulth spelling positive not
Obtrusive politely declined skipped suggestive
Visually objective little pencil box down bellow
friend _ this is blank !
Absolutely! Absoulutely! A ****** stream of no perservatives no ***
Objecting flowery flunder opiates Words grow from
Barriers between insufficient gestures from human
Jazzy left ear leaving laments of sounds incapability to stay
Endlessly entwined and glued together as your soul loves
Tender tactile cats touch on your desperate desert sju++
Ave Gratias Plena Ava Gardner Avon Avion
My throat is not of a managment made suits suiting suitcases
I'm Tired Of Fraternities Or True Females Always Ends Well
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 3:37 PM UTC
The breath in my chest
Scraped against my esophagus
As the preacher read his
Introductory scripture and a
Mourning loved one doubled over
In grief and despair as she
Struggled to bid adieu;
The hairs on the back of my neck
Stood horizontally and
Perpendicular to my concrete floor
As I heard the sweetest soul I know
Choke on her sobs on the
Other end of the receiver,
As she struggled to understand
The onset of pain and finality
She was forced to swallow;
My stomach hollowed and
Acidic anger bubbled and carved out my insides
When I read my best friend's texts,
A series of words
That seemed too cruel to be true,
A riffraff of interrogatories and
Unsettled punctuation,
Summarizing the momentary suspension
Of her resiliency
As she processed the
Breaking of her heart;
And now I lay motionless
On my mattress,
Hot tears masquerading behind my
Tightened eyelids as I writhe in
Empathy,
Alone in my incapability
To end the pains and the woes of
Those around me,
As my body thus must then grieve
For me.
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 12:13 AM UTC
The way you spoke felt the way hot sand felt between my toes, a kind of painful pleasure that eventually made me run back to the ocean to cool off. You remind me of the ocean too, although not the ones seen in holiday brochures. More like the angry part of the ocean I saw in Spain years ago, rising high and mighty above me, putting me in my place. It even knocked me down, just like you did.
I don't regret knowing you, I just regret loving you. I regret surrounding myself with you and your incapability to love anything other than yourself, your incapability to care about anything that didn't directly involve you. How sad, how unfair that I am left here to drown in self-loathing and you are still out there, still happy, still care-free, still clueless about what you did to me.
I miss something particular about you; not your hands, not your lips, not anything near your skin. I miss the little neurotic pieces of your mind and the way you said my name that night. Most of all, I miss just having someone to talk to. How stupid of me to convince myself you are all I need, only to have you leave like everybody else. It's frightening that even though I am surrounded by people, you're the only person that really exists to me, the only person that made me realise I'm not alone. And God, I am so lonely.
I'm leaving. I'm scattering my soul to the wind in the hope I'll find myself someday. Try to love yourself and next time, fall in love with someone who looks at you as though he can see your soul more than he can see your skin. Stop looking for reasons to die and start searching for reasons to live. You are worth more than what you settle for. You are not alone.
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 11:49 AM UTC
What makes you so sure your sickness need not be heavily medicated?
You walk around, your body hanging like your favourite outfit that you never wear anymore,
stumped in a box
The street lights breathe like the cigarette that you smoke at the end of the night and regret immediately after,
the cigarette that tastes like glue,
The pads of your feet blink to the floor,
Your soft eyes watch the people and their smiles, they once represented jealousy but now sail past you like leaves of boredom from nowhere,
You chew on an energy bar as the purple plants, bike riders, suit case carriers and fire hydrants stroll by,
You make fists to fit eye sockets, but your hands stay by their sides
waiting for the courage to find the change that promises never to come,
You sit on the bench and wait for somebody who might chemically excite you
Your mouth clamps shut and your food rots inside of you molding your breath,
The dog walkers follow their excuses not to be lonely
and you crave a machine to make you feel better,
no human will do,
And the cats purr against tree legs and look at you as though you are stupid,
You sit around your friends wanting more intoxication
anything but this elasticated dribble of saliva they call ‘the gang’
Because another ‘gang’ is just another situation where you can feel alone and misunderstood again,
another metaphor for your life and incapability to feel comfortable,
You bathe in quiet awkwardness that only you feel
and cry when no one looks or when no one decides to see,
And you wallow in the self pity that sleeps in beer cans and wine glasses
searching at the bottom of them for someone who can relate to your loneliness,
And everyone thinks they’ve got the answers but you do too and you think the answers are no good either,
You call out on roof tops in the loudest voice your thoughts can muster
And the teachers who get paid to care have given up too,
So you sit like an old book being read over and over again melting to resemble an instruction manuel or something equally repetitious,
And you wait for the time to pass,
and the people too,
You wait to be interested by something,
anything that will comfort you,
But you seek solace in the smell of dustbins, petrol, sea salt, beer froth and your hands in the shower,
And hope that they’ll all
come together
and somehow
let you know
it’s going to be okay.
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 8:20 AM UTC
I’m wondering which will go first. Will my lungs explode from the incapability of breathing? Or will my heart burst from the longing of something that isn’t there anymore? I’m not sure which will happen first, but, I know that both are inevitable. I went back to the place where you and I went for our 1st date today. It’s been nearly eight years now. I miss everything about you. The disease has become worse for me. The pain in my chest is excruciating. I feel as if no one understands the extent of pain that I’m going through.
Everything is slowly blurring from my mind. I hope that one day the sickness and lonely desertion will go away. I hope that time heals my wounds. But for now I hope that this day will end soon. I pray for a change. I wish you were here. I need you to make my pain go away. I wish you could caress me in your arms. I walked around the desolate town today. I only saw shadows of where you had been.
Suddenly, I am falling, although I’m not sure as to where I’m going. Things turn from color to black and white. And then, all at once, I feel a sharp pain in my ribs. I realize, then, that I am falling forward onto gray concrete. I scream out “Help” but all I hear are faint voices in the distance. I feel nothing. I see nothing. I hear nothing. Time has passed now, I feel as if I’m a ghost inside my own mind.
Then, out of no where, comes your hand. I know it is yours because your veins are distinct. You have one on the left side of your right hand that protrudes through your skin. Then, I see your eyes, bright & enchanting green with specks of brown in them. I can see the brown now because we’re in the sunlight. The sun gets bigger & the sky becomes bluer. You’re pulling me up from the concrete. I don’t know how or why this is happening. What I do know is that it feels like a dream. Maybe it is. I can’t be sure. But then I feel your hand intertwine with mine & you say “Are you okay, Margaret? I’ve missed you terribly.”
I know that this is all in my head. I know that I’m dead and that you are, as well. I’m happy that the pain is gone, though. I’m glad we’re together once more. I never thought that such a place was real. That the flowers are blooming and the trees are swaying in the gentle breeze. You have my hand and we are walking down this path. I don’t know where we’re going. I do know that it is so beautiful here. To be happy is to be in a place that brings you happiness. I know that this is true. Being here for an eternity is much better than the pain I felt while existing without you.
Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 9:55 PM UTC
sometimes, it feels like the bath filling up with water,
you lie there and try to relax as it
slowly inches up your thighs and past your slumped shoulders.
or like watching the clock move, watching the day turn on and off-
incoherent, stunned, you try to drown your incapability in apathy
like being strapped to a bed
like being force fed, out of your control in a way that forces you to feel it.
sometimes, it feels like breaking your bones,
a sharp snap you can hear for years when you fall asleep
shooting pain up your spine and straight to your fight-or-flight response
it feels like choking,
it is not slipping in and out, it is violent crashing waves
the tide came in while your eyes were closed
and you're being thrown headfirst against the rocks
sometimes, it feels like keeping a secret,
like holding your tongue, like shy muffled smiles
and pulling misguided threads on your years-old sweaters.
it tastes just like guilt but also a little bit like copper,
almost familiar but with a difference that keeps you up drenched in sweat
it feels like "you did this to yourself" and all you can hear is "it is your fault"
it feels like nothing, sometimes, too.
it feels like emptiness, it feels like 'scared-to-be-touched'
it feels like absolutely hollow,
like knee-jerk reactions when people put their hands on you
like your fight-or-flight lever is broken and you're trapped inside of a burning building with flight on your mind against painted-shut windows
it feels a whole lot
like they took the exact definition away from you that day
like you have a bunch of "almost"s
like a puzzle that has been worn through generations, sticky fingers and gluing together corner and middle pieces
it feels like something is missing,
it feels like you do a manual reset of every feeling to try and sew yourself back together,
it feels like someone bent your needle and frayed your thread and you are trying but they took all of your chances away from you
a little bit vague, inexplicable, 'you-had-to-be-there', like everything, like nothing,
like helpless, if you had to give it a title.
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 9:29 PM UTC
It snowed that morning,
scarring the end of something
forgotten,
pitied lost repression,
buried with each shy snowflake.
Uncontested petals from the
formerly statuesque tress, fell,
sundered,
dancing their merry little
way to the vacant ground.
And a feather dropped from
an outcast swan, alone it
forlornly
surrendered to the frigid
incapability of the terra firma.
On that Saturday morning,
nothing could have fallen,
plummeted
as sporadically as I did,
for each of your rays.
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
I
warned
you of my
toxicity, begged
you to abandon me,
but you were too far gone
living in ignorance of
our perpetual fate,
absorbed by
a hope
for eternity.
At last you finally see
I stole you, like the others,
****** the life from your heart.
My mind is tainted, owned not by me
but by my godforsaken crewel anxiety.
I never deserved your love, my dear
but you fell for my curse even
when I constantly remind
that my specialty lies
in the incapability
of ever being
loved
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 2:29 AM UTC
When Youth’s roots stem with dreams:
Infinite, as the shimmer of the night sky’s stars
Blossoming into megawatts of galaxies,
Megawatts of dreams ,
Carried deftly through lightly perfumed Youth -
Let’s chase them while we can.
Yet while dreams are carried on this tickling free-willed pollen,
A tiny spore of such fragility,
Even the faintest of wrong winds could
Lose it! Lose it!
Winds of despair;
Of not daring;
Of incapability;
Winds of constriction will change her course!
With their vicious blast
The beauty of dreams fades into that dense air;
That dense air filled with broken dreams,
Losing their journey of being carried,
Being carried across new continents,
Where the glories of dreams roam.
Yet! All it takes is the fiery force of
Unfaltering passion
To plant your tree of life from dreams into reality,
To mould worlds of your visions -
Let’s chase them while we can.
Like the journalists who lived to chase the truth and
And the historians who lived to chase the past -
Let’s chase them while we can.
Jan 12, 2012
Jan 12, 2012 at 6:10 AM UTC
serial killer love 3/1/17
you've never killed anyone but you did ****** my sense of being, my hope in security, and any trust i still had left.
you never touch dead human flesh, but you made my skin melt, my heart skip, and my lungs gasp for air.
you'd never admit to it, but everything you said held my heart and your silence ripped it out.
did it feel good? making me feel bad.
do my tears get you off?
does my incapability to move on keep you going?
you are a person, but also a ****** weapon.
so next time you rip a girl apart, please stay to stitch her back together.
serial killer lover 3/2/17
but it wasn't even love at all. it was all part of the game you were playing. you are simply a serial killer lover, and nothing more. you break hearts to add to your collection, but you have no recollection of the bruised bitten bodies you leave behind on your search for warm flesh.
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 7:17 PM UTC
Please don’t be fooled, my love
My eyes, appearing at peace
But, dear, there’s a storm inside
Save yourself from my
Ailing, infected, insanity
My specialty lies within
The incapability of being loved
Please escape while you can
For, I am eternally helpless
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 9:00 PM UTC
You never have to be a flower again
or play those kettle drums, Sheba
bygone from sleeves, dalliances worn.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
we live in a society
were people are judged
not just biased off the way they
look but also how they act
and with what they enjoy
society today is over run
with the new I phone I pad
instead of the wheres moms and hows dads
we are so consumed by technology
that when it comes to a actual conversation
we cant stand but to use ttyl or brb
when we could just say the true words
instead of abbreviations such as
when we text
its always lol
but are we really laughing?
or is it just a means of expression
of to days incapability of sociable
events and activity's.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 11:50 PM UTC