"inconveniencing" poems

*I look me in the eye Then look around me I instantaneously heave A loud silent sigh of relief It’s a heartwarming realization That mine insecurities Are a mere drop in the ocean in the expanse dichotomy of inconveniencing cicumstance That most people willingly or unwillingly Find themselves in A silent inward prayer is all That I hurriedly mumble To He the perfect engineer of life itself.*

0

Sep 9, 2013

Sep 9, 2013 at 6:05 AM UTC

enigma-1

Unspoken gratitude*

*I look me in the eye Then look around me I instantaneously heave A loud silent sigh of relief It’s a heartwarming realization That mine insecurities Are a mere drop in the ocean in the expanse dichotomy of inconveniencing cicumstance That most people willingly or unwillingly Find themselves in A silent inward prayer is all That I hurriedly mumble To He the perfect engineer of life itself.*

15

some of us walk insistently, instinctively, and instantly to and upon the edged path, this physical nexus & abstract mental locus, a cliffside enticing rock strewn trail, drawn of men, by men, for men (yes, men are people too, still) enthralling views, down to the riverside, where eyes intuit the beauteous aroma of precious precocious precarious precipices and the near-stench of mortality amidst wafting scents of inane undesirable need, hints of destruction, or, alternating eager relief, like a ****** infused, instant attractiveness, making weakness in the knees, all too real, trembling with a delicious accented edge of a fresh, familiar scent, fresh baked bread, an all enveloping consumption need now! to crave what we fear, to fear what we crave our cravings are craven, this twisted sense, annuls our common sensibility, yet, titillates our pleasured imagined relief, releases, our unsated, even better, our insatiable curiosity to tremble, an entire body enjoined by vibrato~ enticing tremulations, shaken and stirred, this danger choice releases something primordial, escape? a reckless wrecking so deeply designed, it has its very own designation…death wish multitudes of easy choices afforded my senses, and by accident, all mine chosen, all nearby, I travel the esplanade près de the East River, where even if calm is the sole visiblilty, undercurrents and the unpredictable passage of container wakes and the larger freighters will hand you down, so easy, to become parcel to a littered river bottom of centuries’ artifacts but even more tempting, the balcony, a hop, skip and a jump unlocked, mere ten steps, no need for a running start why it’s the “height of convenience,” he ruefully winces, and not even any TSA lines or inconveniencing “conveniences” Why this calamity seems so desperately desirable, Why this unabrogated feat so featured, nay, even feted in our hot? cold? bloodstream “Why just men? *I don't know, Perhaps, it is all I know.*”

0

Dec 5, 2023

Dec 5, 2023 at 5:42 PM UTC

nat-lipstadt

Men & Heights. (A Companion Piece to “Do You Know Why Men Cry in the Bathroom”)

some of us walk insistently, instinctively, and instantly to and upon the edged path, this physical nexus & abstract mental locus, a cliffside enticing rock strewn trail, drawn of men, by men, for men (yes, men are people too, still) enthralling views, down to the riverside, where eyes intuit the beauteous aroma of precious precocious precarious precipices and the near-stench of mortality amidst wafting scents of inane undesirable need, hints of destruction, or, alternating eager relief, like a ****** infused, instant attractiveness, making weakness in the knees, all too real, trembling with a delicious accented edge of a fresh, familiar scent, fresh baked bread, an all enveloping consumption need now! to crave what we fear, to fear what we crave our cravings are craven, this twisted sense, annuls our common sensibility, yet, titillates our pleasured imagined relief, releases, our unsated, even better, our insatiable curiosity to tremble, an entire body enjoined by vibrato~ enticing tremulations, shaken and stirred, this danger choice releases something primordial, escape? a reckless wrecking so deeply designed, it has its very own designation…death wish multitudes of easy choices afforded my senses, and by accident, all mine chosen, all nearby, I travel the esplanade près de the East River, where even if calm is the sole visiblilty, undercurrents and the unpredictable passage of container wakes and the larger freighters will hand you down, so easy, to become parcel to a littered river bottom of centuries’ artifacts but even more tempting, the balcony, a hop, skip and a jump unlocked, mere ten steps, no need for a running start why it’s the “height of convenience,” he ruefully winces, and not even any TSA lines or inconveniencing “conveniences” Why this calamity seems so desperately desirable, Why this unabrogated feat so featured, nay, even feted in our hot? cold? bloodstream “Why just men? *I don't know, Perhaps, it is all I know.*”

59

It was late And the night was beginning in earnest When I learned about love. I sat one night And eavesdropped without intention Into the intricate lives of a pair Creatives, artists doomed to a life of non-satisfaction Yet they are humans too They may conjure out (in this case) music out of thin air Melodic moments and sensuous sing-songs But they feel pain too And try to lose it in viscous, pungent, happy-making liquid. This fellow, bearded and thick spectacles atop his nose (Is there a more stereotypical artist?) Would lose his father soon Intuition and expensive healthcare told him so What to do? Well take a sip and another and another Because drunken words are sober thoughts. A dog he suggests, so that his mother will not be lonely Who will care for it? We will of course he says, And she is lost at 'we', a confirmation of their union To take over the world, together. Is this not love? I sat another night Encountering two whose sips became gulps And gulps become swallows Diving into the pool of intoxication Rid of all senses they walked, together Up and Down carriages, Stumbling in unison Destination unknown, they would find it together Matching trench coats flapping in rhythm Giggles as they rocked to the swaying melody of the train They may have appeared as two nuisances, inconveniencing others But they were two foolish lovers, Holding on for the moment in a night they would forget Is this not love? The last night on the last train A soft pitter-patter of midnight rain An arctic breeze had blown in Across me a couple huddled Touching Not groping and wandering with perverse hands Subtle sensual caressing Involving no movement Just the pair joined in body and soul Tucked into each others arms Clicking together as two jigsaw pieces Slowly slipping into splendid slumber I wondered Is this not love? And when will I find it?

0

Sep 15, 2013

Sep 15, 2013 at 12:19 PM UTC

caleb-azumah-nelson

Love on the Last Train

It was late And the night was beginning in earnest When I learned about love. I sat one night And eavesdropped without intention Into the intricate lives of a pair Creatives, artists doomed to a life of non-satisfaction Yet they are humans too They may conjure out (in this case) music out of thin air Melodic moments and sensuous sing-songs But they feel pain too And try to lose it in viscous, pungent, happy-making liquid. This fellow, bearded and thick spectacles atop his nose (Is there a more stereotypical artist?) Would lose his father soon Intuition and expensive healthcare told him so What to do? Well take a sip and another and another Because drunken words are sober thoughts. A dog he suggests, so that his mother will not be lonely Who will care for it? We will of course he says, And she is lost at 'we', a confirmation of their union To take over the world, together. Is this not love? I sat another night Encountering two whose sips became gulps And gulps become swallows Diving into the pool of intoxication Rid of all senses they walked, together Up and Down carriages, Stumbling in unison Destination unknown, they would find it together Matching trench coats flapping in rhythm Giggles as they rocked to the swaying melody of the train They may have appeared as two nuisances, inconveniencing others But they were two foolish lovers, Holding on for the moment in a night they would forget Is this not love? The last night on the last train A soft pitter-patter of midnight rain An arctic breeze had blown in Across me a couple huddled Touching Not groping and wandering with perverse hands Subtle sensual caressing Involving no movement Just the pair joined in body and soul Tucked into each others arms Clicking together as two jigsaw pieces Slowly slipping into splendid slumber I wondered Is this not love? And when will I find it?

53

*How you comprehended my myriad a murmur My mind can barely understand even with a hammer Hard hit on my head I a diaper-wetting toddler nestled in the warm bed Of your comforting arms You, in constant vigil feeding me honey-sweet plums Singing me lullabies in your soft mellow voice Your seemingly palpable heart always in a state of rejoice Kindness well-articulated on your visage Your demeanor that of a revered sage. Your unmatched audacity to defy odds Neutralizing all prods Initiated by inconveniencing circumstance A goddess of stern indefatigability, your experience in life expanse.*

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Dec 19, 2013

Dec 19, 2013 at 4:32 AM UTC

enigma-1

Mama.

*How you comprehended my myriad a murmur My mind can barely understand even with a hammer Hard hit on my head I a diaper-wetting toddler nestled in the warm bed Of your comforting arms You, in constant vigil feeding me honey-sweet plums Singing me lullabies in your soft mellow voice Your seemingly palpable heart always in a state of rejoice Kindness well-articulated on your visage Your demeanor that of a revered sage. Your unmatched audacity to defy odds Neutralizing all prods Initiated by inconveniencing circumstance A goddess of stern indefatigability, your experience in life expanse.*

14

Selectively mines, on conditions that I don't step out of line, don't dare ask too many questions because it makes you answer with more questions where I'm turnt into the bad guy, the one who doesn't understand, it's all my fault somehow, it's because of me, I failed to give into to ridicules accusations or allow defeat, I was pushed past the point of breaking , I even lost me a few times, I've been insane for as long as I can remember but this time it's completely different, I wake to walk in fear every hours of the day, I'm made to feel ashamed for loving you, told I'll never be as good as the one you're faithfully into someone whose not even known you not the real you not as I do, seed after useless seeds polluted a once healthy womb, drop after drop tears fell hard on shadows passing me up, leaving me for what may become a happy ending to this fairytale nightmare,screaming myself away flinging covers off of me, laughing as I cry out darkness, so dark and the scents nostalgically unpleasant, the many times her scents lingered on you even in thought I conjure up the smell of lies, the musty deceit, the filthy metallic accusations thrown at me Selectively mines when it suites your ego and when it's not inconveniencing you, I'm turnt into the bad one the person whose always to blame, the one who doesn't understand, it's all my fault somehow, it's because of me, I failed to give into to ridicules accusations or allow defeat, I was pushed past the point of breaking the reason you need her - where I no longer have a place, I had no choice too, I had to move on. Hardest things to do when your reaching for a hand but end up with straws, darkness and no help, dreams unpleasantly real, craving a touch a kiss, to be notice. **Knock knock, whose there?** *No one.... Just your Wife of 11 years.* Always Me Ayeshah ® Copyright 1977 - Present © K.A.C.L.N © All right reserved ®

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Feb 4, 2014

Feb 4, 2014 at 4:26 AM UTC

Ayeshah

Wife of 11 years.

Selectively mines, on conditions that I don't step out of line, don't dare ask too many questions because it makes you answer with more questions where I'm turnt into the bad guy, the one who doesn't understand, it's all my fault somehow, it's because of me, I failed to give into to ridicules accusations or allow defeat, I was pushed past the point of breaking , I even lost me a few times, I've been insane for as long as I can remember but this time it's completely different, I wake to walk in fear every hours of the day, I'm made to feel ashamed for loving you, told I'll never be as good as the one you're faithfully into someone whose not even known you not the real you not as I do, seed after useless seeds polluted a once healthy womb, drop after drop tears fell hard on shadows passing me up, leaving me for what may become a happy ending to this fairytale nightmare,screaming myself away flinging covers off of me, laughing as I cry out darkness, so dark and the scents nostalgically unpleasant, the many times her scents lingered on you even in thought I conjure up the smell of lies, the musty deceit, the filthy metallic accusations thrown at me Selectively mines when it suites your ego and when it's not inconveniencing you, I'm turnt into the bad one the person whose always to blame, the one who doesn't understand, it's all my fault somehow, it's because of me, I failed to give into to ridicules accusations or allow defeat, I was pushed past the point of breaking the reason you need her - where I no longer have a place, I had no choice too, I had to move on. Hardest things to do when your reaching for a hand but end up with straws, darkness and no help, dreams unpleasantly real, craving a touch a kiss, to be notice. **Knock knock, whose there?** *No one.... Just your Wife of 11 years.* Always Me Ayeshah ® Copyright 1977 - Present © K.A.C.L.N © All right reserved ®

33

I. Midas i like to look at your picture because it reminds me that you are just a man your hands have handed me horseradish and hard liquor and you’re about as chatty as the women on the view but it's great because i'm totally into this view and ohio was gray until out of the blue, you touched me and i turned to gold --- II. Indianapolis i want to rage so hard in this life i want to be so exhausted from living that i don’t even have the urge to fight back on my death bed and i’ll be too worn out to walk into heaven that the angels will have to carry me in only to have peter push me through the drop door and i’ll plummet straight into purgatory which i’m convinced is the state of indiana where there’s inexplicable construction funded by taxes from the four people who live there inconveniencing all the rest of us who are just passing through peeing in your roadside wallpapered bathrooms and marveling at your cows of many colors the loudest noise in indiana is probably me screaming it’s like each telephone pole took two days off my life but i lived it. if driving through indiana meant giving life a chance, fine. i found a vegan restaurant in indianapolis and i got lost in indianapolis and i hated the fact that i got overwhelmed in indianapolis but god put it there. so while the angels escort me towards the drop door, my legs will be too sore from LIVING my LIFE and i can turn around and look at peter and say have fun standing in the same place on your stupid pink cloud and before i know it i’ll land with a thud in a truck stop on I-70W surrounded by billboards advertising breakfasts and best westerns

0

Apr 19, 2016

Apr 19, 2016 at 6:16 PM UTC

regina-regina-regina

a melodramatic romanticization of the american midwest

I. Midas i like to look at your picture because it reminds me that you are just a man your hands have handed me horseradish and hard liquor and you’re about as chatty as the women on the view but it's great because i'm totally into this view and ohio was gray until out of the blue, you touched me and i turned to gold --- II. Indianapolis i want to rage so hard in this life i want to be so exhausted from living that i don’t even have the urge to fight back on my death bed and i’ll be too worn out to walk into heaven that the angels will have to carry me in only to have peter push me through the drop door and i’ll plummet straight into purgatory which i’m convinced is the state of indiana where there’s inexplicable construction funded by taxes from the four people who live there inconveniencing all the rest of us who are just passing through peeing in your roadside wallpapered bathrooms and marveling at your cows of many colors the loudest noise in indiana is probably me screaming it’s like each telephone pole took two days off my life but i lived it. if driving through indiana meant giving life a chance, fine. i found a vegan restaurant in indianapolis and i got lost in indianapolis and i hated the fact that i got overwhelmed in indianapolis but god put it there. so while the angels escort me towards the drop door, my legs will be too sore from LIVING my LIFE and i can turn around and look at peter and say have fun standing in the same place on your stupid pink cloud and before i know it i’ll land with a thud in a truck stop on I-70W surrounded by billboards advertising breakfasts and best westerns

18

*Tongues of flame ravenously lick Every inch of her and everything in contact With her is lit aflame and maybe that’s quite impolitic As it’s inconveniencing with a tendency to distract. Well, as beings fidget and squirm in impassioned Ecstasy she nonchalantly goes about her business In slow haste completely indifferent to the ‘fashioned’ Whirlpool of raging emotion she’s stirred in acute finesse Qualities that constitute an ensemble of a femme fatale Most of her actions defy most established forms of rationale And presumably, she could have gone through the rigmarole Of dressing up she’s certain she’ll slay heart and soul A splash of color and valor And discretion’s sidelined, she glows with glamour.*

0

Jun 11, 2016

Jun 11, 2016 at 3:05 AM UTC

enigma-1

Lady in red.

*Tongues of flame ravenously lick Every inch of her and everything in contact With her is lit aflame and maybe that’s quite impolitic As it’s inconveniencing with a tendency to distract. Well, as beings fidget and squirm in impassioned Ecstasy she nonchalantly goes about her business In slow haste completely indifferent to the ‘fashioned’ Whirlpool of raging emotion she’s stirred in acute finesse Qualities that constitute an ensemble of a femme fatale Most of her actions defy most established forms of rationale And presumably, she could have gone through the rigmarole Of dressing up she’s certain she’ll slay heart and soul A splash of color and valor And discretion’s sidelined, she glows with glamour.*

14

I can't **** myself Because my parents just bought me a new computer, And that would be a waste of $1000. I can't **** myself Because I put down my first college payment, And that would be a waste of $500. I can't **** myself Because I still have half a pack of Marlboros, And that would be a waste of $4. I can't **** myself Because I told a friend I would see her tomorrow, And that would be rude of me to cancel our plans. But then again, I guess it's rude of me to make plans for a future That I don't expect to have.

0

Jun 23, 2013

Jun 23, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC

briana4545

I Should Probably Stop Inconveniencing People

I can't **** myself Because my parents just bought me a new computer, And that would be a waste of $1000. I can't **** myself Because I put down my first college payment, And that would be a waste of $500. I can't **** myself Because I still have half a pack of Marlboros, And that would be a waste of $4. I can't **** myself Because I told a friend I would see her tomorrow, And that would be rude of me to cancel our plans. But then again, I guess it's rude of me to make plans for a future That I don't expect to have.

14

I'm so sick of not having the words to describe how I feel anymore. The smallest of provocations makes me cry, sometimes as soon as I lay down the tears start flowing and I can't ever stop them before I text a friend, or my boyfriend. My boyfriend, who treats me as if my feelings are dumb, though he swears he doesn't mean to. They reply with "what's wrong" and I can't give them an answer My best friend says it's OK, My boyfriend sends a confused face. And time and time again I apologize for not knowing what's wrong, for inconveniencing them with my feelings, but saying this makes me feel even more helpless. I can't even tell the truth to myself anymore. I'm lying in my bed crying for no reason. Help me please

0

Feb 26, 2016

Feb 26, 2016 at 7:20 PM UTC

hayleybear12

Am i depressed?

I'm so sick of not having the words to describe how I feel anymore. The smallest of provocations makes me cry, sometimes as soon as I lay down the tears start flowing and I can't ever stop them before I text a friend, or my boyfriend. My boyfriend, who treats me as if my feelings are dumb, though he swears he doesn't mean to. They reply with "what's wrong" and I can't give them an answer My best friend says it's OK, My boyfriend sends a confused face. And time and time again I apologize for not knowing what's wrong, for inconveniencing them with my feelings, but saying this makes me feel even more helpless. I can't even tell the truth to myself anymore. I'm lying in my bed crying for no reason. Help me please

11

Am I your ghost? Haunting the halls of your mind Rattling door knobs and banging on windows Begging to be let in You are my ghost Floating around the edges of my heart Embedded in the carpets of my consciousness Or am I your demon? A nuisance and a thorn in your side Something that just won’t go away No matter how hard you try I keep coming back Torturing and inconveniencing I see these as words left unsaid Trying to right a wrong that was done long ago You see them as something to forget To Push aside, and try to hide The worst thought of all Is you probably see it all as nothing But a chapter in your past Already closed I am no ghost to you If I was I’ve evaporated long ago

0

Mar 2, 2019

Mar 2, 2019 at 4:53 PM UTC

dominiquerispoliwrites

Ghosts And Demons

Am I your ghost? Haunting the halls of your mind Rattling door knobs and banging on windows Begging to be let in You are my ghost Floating around the edges of my heart Embedded in the carpets of my consciousness Or am I your demon? A nuisance and a thorn in your side Something that just won’t go away No matter how hard you try I keep coming back Torturing and inconveniencing I see these as words left unsaid Trying to right a wrong that was done long ago You see them as something to forget To Push aside, and try to hide The worst thought of all Is you probably see it all as nothing But a chapter in your past Already closed I am no ghost to you If I was I’ve evaporated long ago

24

Mother Nature has a way of Inconveniencing Us with her duty While making us appreciative Of her her beauty

0

Feb 26, 2018

Feb 26, 2018 at 4:29 PM UTC

diangelo-tyler

Nature

Mother Nature has a way of Inconveniencing Us with her duty While making us appreciative Of her her beauty

5

I always waste time, Thinking about what I could have said, You never look back, You said what you would have said, I don’t know why I regret it so much, The remorse in my eyes, Says more about how I feel, Than the words stumbling out of my mouth, This nagging feeling of inconveniencing you, Obscures the actions I make, I feel so lost in the wake of this moment, It’s as if I had been brought back into a dream, Turned into the nightmare I felt before, And I’m wondering if this time, I’ll end up falling through the never ending floor, Because I came back to you, In a state of pure vulnerability, And this time you truly rejected me.

0

Sep 10, 2018

Sep 10, 2018 at 11:52 PM UTC

Escapism

wasted my heart on you

I always waste time, Thinking about what I could have said, You never look back, You said what you would have said, I don’t know why I regret it so much, The remorse in my eyes, Says more about how I feel, Than the words stumbling out of my mouth, This nagging feeling of inconveniencing you, Obscures the actions I make, I feel so lost in the wake of this moment, It’s as if I had been brought back into a dream, Turned into the nightmare I felt before, And I’m wondering if this time, I’ll end up falling through the never ending floor, Because I came back to you, In a state of pure vulnerability, And this time you truly rejected me.

18