"inconveniences" poems
I'm tested everyday,
Tempted to throw away
The sanity that's kept my mind at bay
If inconveniences are shadows,
then troubles are ink-blotted water
trickling through the canals of my temporal lobes
which causes me to follow
any thoughts of failure instead of success
better to wallow in bed then get dressed
I almost forget that I am blessed.
I aggress the trickling pain
by staring skyward
like a man seeking the opportunity
to fly
soaring above the problems that cloud the eyes
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 6:20 PM UTC
My body is the training ground for
All of the reject demons
My inner demons failed to qualify as the right sort of fight
To match with any worthwhile struggles so
My inner demons are over dramatic children
They do not wage wars
They throw tantrums
They stand inside my temples and pound the walls
When they do not get what they want
And shriek ringing into my ears until they turn blue
Then fall asleep when they get tired
Forgetting that they were supposed to be upset
My inner demons are pretentious
They call themselves demons
When they are more like imps
They tickle at anxiety with the nerve to call it an attack
And separate velcro and seams with the audacity to say that
They broke something
Then press on my heart
Daring to call it an ache
My inner demons are clumsy
They walk with their toes curling around my eyelashes
And slip and spill their handfuls of tears
At inopportune moments
As I tremble due to the ones
That have tripped and tangled themselves
In my heartstrings and vocal cords
Causing me to grasp my rib cage in desperate attempts to reach them
And tear apart the inconveniences
My inner demons are shy
They sway in my veins to the rhythmic pulse
With clawed hands outstretched to the blue walled sky
Cautious to never leave a scratch through my skin
They dance on nerve endings and muscle tissue
With footwork just gentle enough to not summon bruises
And hold themselves still against my capillaries
As if their presence might distract my blood from
Its daily circulation
My inner demons are hoarders
They over-stuff the filing cabinets in my brain
With reports and analysis of too many situations
And pick up old emotions and hide them in the recesses
Of each ventricle and aorta
Creating pseudo-space for newer, stranger, replicas
Then pack extra breaths into my lungs
Storing "just in case" inhalations and overused sighs
They insulate their homes with extra calories and extra clothes
Hiding until they can forget themselves
My inner demons are moody
They like to stitch up new wounds with the thorns of roses
And pry open old ones with feathers
They tie my tongue with pages of foreign textbooks
They tie my tongue in gauze and cotton
They tie my tongue with other tongues
And pins and needles and teeth and drawstrings
They are self depreciating and they know that they
Are not worthy of their title
My inner demons are pathetic
I suppose they're right where they belong
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
Who here loves *******
I mean, dogs
Obviously…
Immature people.
I love ***** shows.
Seeing them all groomed to perfection, not a hair out off place
A shame some cute faces will just go to waste.
While some may whine and some may resist,
If it’s not monetised, well… does it exist?
Lined up in a row
Look at them go
Praying and hoping to win best in show, just for a itty bitty wittle headpat, while the owner gets useful things like money.
Cause a dog can’t use money, that’s just silly
Nails perfectly trimmed
Intelligence dimmed
Watch how they walk with a little trot, so proud of themselves,
its like they forgot they only have the same rights as their owners in 6 countries.
But dogs don’t need equal working rights, that’s just silly
Look its absurd
When they whine all their words
Clogging up space with their frilly likes and their silly ums that totally like inconveniences like everyone because they have to um like listen to a ***** talk for um longer than they like totally like um have to like ***
But they aren’t so bad, especially when you’ve had
A ***** that wont behave, a ***** that’s gone mad
Howling at the moon with their wandering wombs
It’s like there’s no party, only balloons.
If a ***** wears pants, do they go on all fours
Or do they get sent home for showing more than their paws.
Gasp at how they growl, protecting their hairy bodies, which, silly them, they don’t own.
They must be culled
Anger dulled
Knock in their thick skulls they are nothing but a *****
We all love ***** shows, we love the ******* even more.
So come on ladies, get down on all fours.
Feb 23, 2022
Feb 23, 2022 at 4:37 PM UTC
*This is a poem I wrote looking out my window this same evening in autumn I think I was just feeling a little lonely..
Life, it passes by outside the cold chained window
As I stare out into the light, out of my lonely dark corner
My eyes burn a little, I don’t mind though, I’m used to the pain life brings me
It has grown to a dull itch rather then a perching pain
It has been made null and done in by the pain my heart brings me
For the love of my life, the one who lied about his feelings,
He, he has ripped it out of my chest, painfully and slowly
Taking his time and plotting each and every single step he shall take
To make me suffer more then I should
I see a copal, and how cute they look together
But then I look into her hims’ eyes and see, I see what I saw in my hims’ eyes
I shan't worn her for tiz her own petty fault as was my own when my "incident" happened
I’m not mad at him, I’m sure he couldn’t help it, it’s just one of those unfortunate inconveniences
I hope it was anyway, even so I’m not mad, it was my own fault
So as happy life goes on outside my cold chained window
I watch and wait to see all the unsuspecting victims who will end up like me
But they’re different, they think they’ll have someone to blame*
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 4:08 PM UTC
They'll find me hanging upside-down.
Ankles bruised by the ropes
From which you strung me up for field dressing.
Lacerations where you’d cut my throat,
Bled me dry, spilt my guts,
And broke past my ribs, to uproot my heart.
Can they carbon date the remains of my reputation?
Trace the ****** back to your mouth?
Will they know the cause of death to be the
Malignant rumors you couldn’t help but spew?
Your false words: the final nail in my coffin.
Do you regret ever letting them past your lips?
Slowly, my reputation crippled by the aggressive
Cancer that was your embellished utterance.
And it didn’t bother you in the slightest.
You marveled at the sight of my struggle.
And amazing how these things seem to spread.
One caustic, contagious, breath from you was all it took.
Though the slanderous virus wouldn't make it 'til morning;
Addicts to their fix; gossips, crave your empty words.
Like ******* the rush is intense but brief.
Interest fleeting, they move on.
Off to the next peddler.
For all these inconveniences, I thank you.
Thank you for lifting the masks that curtained your distorted self.
How blind I must have been not to see it outright.
Another leech, feeding on slighted words.
And to think; all it costed you to buy in
Was me...
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 8:10 AM UTC
I'm angry
I'm angry that this is the world we live in
I'm angry that I can't walk down the street without being harassed
I'm angry that I constantly have to think about how people will react to what I wear
I'm angry about the everyday inconveniences this world has made for me
But more than anything I'm angry that I have to think twice about helping an elderly man into his car
I'm angry that today there was a disabled man slowly pushing his wheelchair across the parking lot and I didn't help him
Because that's the world we have created
A world where we are consistently aware that even by being good we can be punished
I am so angry that I sat there and watched that man for ten minutes
And didn't move because how could I know that he wasn't another Ted Bundy
How could I know
We have created a world with such a deep chasm of distrust that I can't even believe that this poor man was truly disabled
As a woman I have to be afraid of a man in a wheelchair
A man who seemingly cannot walk still has the ability to terrify me
I am so angry
That I am limited
Not only by the things that I wear and the places in which I can go alone
But I am limited in my ability to make the world a better place
I am limited
And I am angry
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 8:24 PM UTC
"wish everyone was loved tonight
And somehow stop this endless fight
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days"
Better Days by the Goo Goo Dolls
<>
Yeah yeah. Dating myself.
Some reason find myself listening to the GGD,
(A less embarrassing initialization)
Heard it a thousand times,
Classic easy listening rock.
A sweet wish, everybody knows, ain't gonna happen>
But, In my hand, a -perfecta summer day,
Steady sun, genteel sea breeze, low humidity,
The insects tolerate a shooing away, go easy and disappear,
House empty, everyone doing something and
You know where I am, tip~tapping on my iPad,
Yup, in that room, where poems are fan circulated,
And fall, freely, from the wood ceiling directly
Onto screen, my only job, to screen
The screen for typoes and other such minor inconveniences
There is no time to calculate,
No time to measure, no errors to complete that can't be undone,
And To mourn,
And the Angels have come in silently,
The day so fine, their human side,
Returns for a sun tan and the heat that heals
Burns, wounds, fissures, and even stalling
Out the growth of the bad cells our bodies
Con~tain;
They do not run nor hide,,
whispering I am too pessimistic,
And the Day will bleed into sunfall,
With colors sublime and god designed,
And if ever there was an evening
That the possibility greatest that
tonight
Everyone could be loved,
Even me,
Even you,
Even us,
The air has harmonies in the air flow,
And tonight, will be the time
When we all remember with a sly grin.
that we commence by loving oneself,
And then cell splitting,
and saliva sharing,
following tears and sweat,
and cradling arms
will entwine
Only Love Poems
Jul 19, 2025
Jul 19, 2025 at 3:14 PM UTC
.it's called pronoun usage focused upon the experience of claustrophobia, or rather, the lack of... hence: one thinks in order for one to be... unus, cogito, unus se, per ergo; these people went after grammar... not a good idea; i've had my doubts... but... i also have my... rigid beyond religious orthodoxy credos... infringed upon denials! grammar is one of them!
well...
if we're going to go about our
verbiage as we've done...
pronouns...
sorry...
i have to do this...
or rather...
one has to resort to this...
one must think / hinge on such
matters...
one must execute such...
"inconveniences"...
one must, press on such
matters...
just so, one is able...
to counter the trans- pronoun usage...
with a royal,
pronoun usage;
happy?!
go on... two is able...
two think...
figure it out... tow along;
as a Nascar wreck...
because started thinking...
is pluralism intact
pluralism... on the basis of
an isolated instance of
a disfranchised base within
the confines of He... or She?
no?
well... the royal pronoun
intervention...
as one would expect...
or rather, as one would hope so...
hello?!
i think the lunatics have run
the asylum long enough...
their supposed asylum,
formerly known as society?
not good enough...
call the guys in the white coats
that... everyone seems to fear.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 8:22 PM UTC
sorry you **** babe -
probably because you're a lying,
thieving,
attention-seeking *****
probably because you're an inconsiderate,
inconsistent,
ingenuine little *******
sorry you had it all coming to you -
sorry everyone's forgotten about you -
sorry you're a miserable excuse for a human being.
sorry you slice up your arms and parade them around
and still no one cares.
sorry you'll stop at nothing for an inch of spotlight,
and still no one gives it to you.
sorry we all know about you now,
sorry you can't handle it,
sorry you had to run away like the
***** you are*
because you burned all your friends along with your bridges.
sorry we caught on,
sorry we're not taking it,
sorry you're alone (so all alone).
sorry you can't handle all the
minor inconveniences in your life
with the grace everyone else does,
and sorry you lack the integrity to try.
sorry you have to pretend to be ****** up
(*honestly, what in your life
is causing you pain?*
is it the parents that love you,
or the friends you could still have?)
sorry you **** babe -
and i'm sorry i don't give a ****
Apr 21, 2012
Apr 21, 2012 at 1:01 PM UTC
Dear Heart,
I know that you are tired, because I am tired too.
I know that you are fragile and hurting,
-I can feel the hopelessness in your fading beats.
I tried my utmost best to take care of you in the little ways that I knew how
But still, you are slowly bleeding out
-I failed… I failed you.
One day in the future I will get the courage to ask you for that undeserved forgiveness,
The forgiveness that I cannot seem to even give to my body,
And I hope that on the day, I will be able to beg you for that same pardon with the humblest of hands.
I pray that when you see the scars on my swollen knuckles, you will not despise me,
Instead you will look at me with pity filled eyes
And tell me that my sickness, this awful sickness, was never my fault.
I know that you are scared, because I am scared too.
But mostly I am scared for you,
For I am not getting better am I?
Dear Heart,
I am so sorry for letting you down,
For treating you in the most indecent of manners,
For all the permanent bruises that I have given you
…And for the damage, and what unspeakable damage I have done unto you…
I am monster.
I know…I know that you are exhausted,
But I don’t know how to ask for the help that you need.
I have forgotten how to speak truthfully and honestly about how much it hurts
How do I tell them what I have done to you?
You deserve better.
But I am not the better that you deserve
I am the ****** luck that you got stick with
And for that I sincerely apologize.
You deserved much better.
Dear Heart,
I cannot promise to help you
Because deep inside of me I know that I don’t have the strength to.
I cannot save you,
And for that I am sorry.
The truth is that I have forgotten how to be free.
I don’t know how to any more.
I somehow un-learnt how to keep in what I take in
But no matter how many times I purge my sins and ask myself for redemption,
The little morcels of guilt always seem to remain in the very centre of my gut.
Dear Heart,
This punishment was never aimed at you,
But you deteriorated and withered from it none the less…
You should have been treated with more respect
With love and care…
Please grant me your resolve
And give me the serenity to accept all my imperfections
Please tell me that you forgive me.
We are a broken pair, both you and I
-You we were never meant to suffer
But you did
And you are still.
Never forget that you are precious to me,
It was never my intention to hurt you in the torturous ways that I did…
Your pain was an unfortunate side-effect of my selfish inability to be free
And for that I apologize,
I apologize for the unbearable inconveniences that you have been forced to face
Please find it within you to forgive the mess of host that I have become…
Yours sincerely,
By: Lulwama Kuto Mulalu
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC
Inconveniences.
They plague you.
Your skin isn't thick-
one scratch and there's blood.
The sun beats down on you
and you cower towards the shade.
I envy you.
I pity you.
Put your hands up and fight.
These blisters don't hurt me.
I've walked on eggshells,
I've swam through deep waters.
I'm sure I can find my way home
from here.
-I'm sorry we can't relate
Jul 28, 2019
Jul 28, 2019 at 11:17 PM UTC
Dark, grey clouds in the sky,
unending rain cascades.
Some chilly air blows by
as it swirls savagely.
Water drips everywhere,
icy cold and sticky wet.
Some inconveniences,
bad weathers of our lives.
How we wish for the sun.
How we hope for such warmth.
Then again, after the rain…
A rainbow may be seen.
And, there is always tomorrow
for the sun may chose to show.
But, then again, if not…
Just don’t forget our umbrella,
for us to make it through the rain.
Jan 29, 2011
Jan 29, 2011 at 4:22 AM UTC
Center pressure on the tip
Of the glassed pleasure,
Release a million particles,
Watch them rest on the air.
Thousands of master dancers twirling, spinning,
Sashaying their paths to refuge.
Inhale, exhale.
The atoms entice, capture.
Pleasuring senses with alluring influences.
Just like a ballerina, trapezed,
Carefully and gracefully
Leaning her swan-like neck
Away from her poor partner,
Afflicted by the contrast of halitosis.
Another focus of pressure:
The last of inconveniences amended.
Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 8:44 PM UTC
Your sweat dripping and mixing with mine
Your sudden ramblings and whine
The uneven summer sun tans
The reds and scratches on your back
All natural, and all I ever want
These are the things
I daydream on the daily.
These are the days
I imagine myself living.
Your absence,
the single worst lethal threat
Your face,
so close while catching our breaths
Our hands,
always there for each other to hold.
All these makes for the moments
that makes our love worthy of it all.
Oh I beg you to please annoy me.
Cause me all these inconveniences.
Come closer, stop being such a tease.
Make me the most vexed woman to exist.
Apr 16, 2023
Apr 16, 2023 at 4:16 AM UTC
Most would say there's always something wrong with me
The typical aches and pains
Occasional dramas
That's why it's so crazy, I find
That when I want to scream out the most
I lose the ability to speak
To explain
To reveal the real secrets behind the smile
The epic tragedies masked by mundane inconveniences
Vulnerability
Jun 23, 2022
Jun 23, 2022 at 3:20 AM UTC
I wish that I could be like you
go through the day and handle minor inconveniences as what they are
rather than breaking down because you dropped a paintbrush
I wish that I could be like you
laying down in bed, closing your eyes, and going to sleep without trouble
rather than struggling to be able to close your eyes
I wish that I was like you
drinking because it's fun or something new to try
rather than it being an escape from reality and a new addiction
I wish that I was like you
able to go through life without needing something to numb it down
rather than using every blade, drink, drug, or person that you can.
I wish that I was normal
rather than this mess of a person that can't get up
to take a shower most of the days
but you say normal is overrated
maybe to you, as you're so used to it
but for a freak like me, god, for a freak like me
that's paradise.
Aug 18, 2021
Aug 18, 2021 at 12:17 AM UTC
We fell into bed on an instance
No need for introductions
We left all of those behind
In the bar of inconveniences
As we fumbled in the words
"My place or yours ."
She reached into a pocket
Lined in purple satin promises
And handed me her keys
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 9:27 PM UTC
there are some things you can't paint pretty
to me, words can be like a rain storm in the way that the sun is hidden
but the world looks softer, the lines are blurred,
all of the harsh and bold are pushed into drains on the sides of the streets
sometimes, certain things have to stick out;
things that natural inconveniences can't blur or soften;
things that tell you to get used to the lump in your throat
i found out through a facebook status
9:13pm on a thursday night, i found out
through a facebook status
the one and only
mess of a blue eyed time bomb
will never walk past me in a grocery store
leaving a scent of falling in love for the first time and
p r e s s u r e
so much pressure
because
she
is
not
here
anymore
and it makes me wonder
in those 2 years that we did not speak
what changed
who did she become
how bad did it get
before she thought her best bet
was a gun to her head
you hid from life in way that made
your loved ones lose sleep
you left this life in a way that makes
this town a little more dull
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 6:34 PM UTC
so many inconveniences
-
the tiny parking space I am given
the red lights on the way to work
the empty pack of cigarettes
the commercials on the radio
the obnoxious children next door
the distance between you and I
the fact that you are just a boy
the realization that I am getting older
the light that flickers on my vanity
the churning in my stomach
the god awful heat wave
the lack of flowers in my garden
the lack of a garden in general
the promise of you moving on
the ache residing inside my chest
the empty pill bottle on my dresser
the nightmares about you
the heart that refuses to let me die
-
so many inconveniences
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 12:01 AM UTC
Are you ever near the midpoint of a dark, bleak day?
When nothing at all seems to welcome your stay?
When inconveniences overwhelm and obliterate
So you can’t lie and contemplate without
Another hindrance to dim the clouds
But at that fixed point in conditional fatalism
I know that though I was bound to live through distress in its drift
I am being called to call my power and foray
Against the angst, the dark, the grief
Here I bring the day to its end
A new day dawns! In the late of the day,
In my quaking, in my gloom
In everything thing I’ve brawl against to counter monotony and grow
In depression lost, passed, and away
At this time I dawn a fine new day.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC
I hope your wifi signal is always just ****** enough that your YouTube videos buffer forever.
May your favorite sports team make it to the championship game every year and lose. Every. **** Time.
I hope every grade you get for every class be an 89, a 79, or a 69 so it stings you every time to know you were almost good enough.
May you always get stuck in rush hour traffic.
May your favorite Thai dish always be a little too spicy for you to eat.
I hope your favorite sunglasses go missing and you never find them again.
I wish nothing but mild inconveniences for you for the rest of your life. I want you to hurt for hurting me, but I still love you too much to wish you any real harm.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
We were twenty minutes outside
Asheville when we slipped, carelessly
From the edge of the earth
Into an oil painting.
We were, still are really, perpetually
Twenty minutes away when the traffic
would clog, and Michael would blow
Into a tissue; trying to clear both.
Every curve would birth another stretch
Of road, another ridge of mountains, their
Sight not unlike the unlikely vantage of seeing
your shoulders for the first time in film.
Then we’d break again, sure that this was
Some sort of ******* afterlife, full of minor
Inconveniences and signs warning that
‘Bridge ices before road,’
Mocking us in our perpetual summer.
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
"left me in the dust"--I've become dust literally
and my legs now melt like lipstick left too long in the open sun.
pungent words, medication--morph into heat waves, brilliant intensity.
red-violet, gamma magnified--I swallow them whole like you swallowed me.
my spirit will crawl inside you through the holes in your soiled skin
and I'll make you breathe me in
like winter smoke, a gray cloud
of inconveniences and memories better forgotten,
to remind you of the burdens of love and life
the turmoils of entanglement, the sacrifice of my energy
wasted on the feeble candle of your inner light
and the insignificance of adolescent love.
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 2:08 AM UTC
I'm in Love with an *******
It might sound harsh,
But its mostly just accurate.
He says his feeling for me are in a state of 'flux.'
He says a lot of things like that.
He thinks I repeat myself too often.
It's one of my many flaws he feels compelled to highlight
With alarming frequency.
But he says a lot of things like that.
He ***** me like he has something to prove though.
(Probably because he does.)
It's almost biblical **** I swear
we can move mountains then.
Or more impossibly,
we can show each other we actually care.
The things his wandering hands can whisper to me
Coupled with the things his hips can scream
Give me brief moments to believe
this is real.
But then its over.
And it's back to
nit-picking
bickering
******* contests.
We will never be comfortable.
We will never behave.
We both know how this will end.
An endless loop.
The world's worst song on repeat.
He says a lot of things like that.
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
Now I walk almost with ease through these nightly rituals
Disconnecting as much as I can from this frenzically speeding mind
Always the same.
Monotonously I wade through the murky waters of this devilish playground
Just enough energy to swim to the top now and again to gasp for air
Their seas of haunting chants is suffocating
Always deceitfully encouraging me into states of panic and despair
Always the same.
I have danced this dance many times before
Yet their persistancy makes it feel infinitely longer
My body aches from their puppet strings, holding me up before slumber
And my thoughts are disheveled from their constant trespassing.
But look here in my mind, that despite inconveniences still prospers, unstoppable.
Their manipulation, you see, although practiced in the mind, only hinders my brain and body
And is shrugged off every day as I wake from sleep,
No, no, it is not the same.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 11:58 AM UTC