"inflicting" poems
My pain is not a poem,
my poetry isn't poetic.
It's cryptic and a message,
cutting up and breaking
branches. Comprehensive;
my poems are suicidal, files of
medications and prescriptions
are seemingly all my mind
can write. Jumping to conclusions
and indenting my addictions,
inflicting this confliction, convictions
I don't mention. Those rhymes that
I have wrote; it was the drowning as I broke,
a broken draft of notes, that sing:
"you'll never learn to float,"
Acid, or is it water?
I'm hoping for the latter,
well I guess it never mattered,
years doubled and I'm sadder.
When does it get better?
When do I get better?
I guess it never will, and I'm
home but I'm not here,
I'm stuck, I'm stuck, I'm stuck,
and all my heart
can pump is tears-
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 8:06 PM UTC
dearer to me than my heart
dearer to me than my soul
and i bleed
I lose
with my heart and soul
Inflicting pain, sorrows
griefs -- endless remorse
Once my homeland was pure
it was freed from blood
****** insensitivity
once my homeland was free of evil inhabitants
sorrows multiplied a thousand fold
gathered in pain-inflicted tears
with lump in throats
distant from your presence
i cry-- for your loss
On the rooftops of tragedies, my heart sink more
like an orphan, an abandoned child
my homeland bleeds
i scream within
i feel the abandonment
dearer to me than my own voice
dearer to me than my own eyes
and i am silent
I am blind
losing my sight, losing my voice
as my voice can't reflect the pain i feel
my eyes can't cry any more
reflecting ocean of deprived
once my homeland was free of pain
people were safe
we running like rivers
do not say it
our country was a flesh in body
now it is a dead body amongst many flesh
forgotten the promises
forgotten the true colors
in the name of revenge, we humiliate humanity
my intention is not to write poems
in my soul, i embrace nights long
this land absorbed wounds, tears
blood, fights, and many martyrs
who are forgotten
my country is our hope
we are growing in broken shadows
this siege is waiting us to drown us
in the middle of lonesome warrior
nobody can feel in absence of love
who are incapable to feel
to take, to absorb
love require us to cry, to embrace
today our homeland is deprived
abandoned, bleeding
she is under siege
as we forgotten to love
we deprived her of her loyalty
we deprived her of her love
we deprived her of her true lovers
My homeland I feel your pain
in my heart I carry all with me
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC
I wonder if
Forget-me-nots
are flowers that
bloom in May
Like how we both began;
as little Summer flowers,
dancing 'neath the Sun--
screaming not to be forgotten
And yet you did--
inflicting pain
like acid rain;
so I too, shall do as you!
But I'm a terrible liar;
and to not feel so empty inside,
I'll heed the flowers and
forget-you-not~
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 4:52 PM UTC
She comes to me every night...
When all is asleep with stars lit yonder.
Comes to me with subtle might
Peeking fiendishly from darkness's cover
Await such time she'd choose to show
Await the chance to finally take.
Ready to pounce like a well tensioned bow
Arrow-like talons, ever honed to stake.
Awake or asleep, she would come without fail.
Creep is her gait; this shadow clad figure.
Always a ***** in my impervious mail.
Claiming her wants with ferocious fervour.
Deemed to be strong, easier to succumb.
Don't fight...don't struggle... Don't call for aid...
Just wait and will yourself numb
She'd come regardless of prayers that's said.
She was here with me last night
In bed, I stared at a being that's faceless...
And my heart wrenched tight.
Gripping and feeding me senseless...
Soon as she came, she left but not before
Siphoning the good and replacing with dread...
Stole was what she did; left me wanting more...
Once deed is done, into the dark she fled.
I know her all too well,
Nocturnal guest that I unknowingly invite
Her intentions to incite, not quell
Send me spiralling through emotional blight.
Day will recede, making room for dark
She'll come; swift and without sound.
She'll arrive majestic; inflicting her mark
I'll wait for her, ready and unbound.
Looking forward to her return
This silent foe whom I find familiar.
With every touch I cringe and burn
Oh secret friend whom I'm beginning to savour...
She is synonymous with various names
Each would bear the likeness of semblance
Let fly her cloak of not dissimilar aims
Endearingly I call her...,
Despondence...
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
a shadow lurks to where I go
trailing me, inflicting doubt
on the path ahead
to the great unknown
it grows bigger
and my feet plant themselves
in resonance
soon I will become its slave
heeding its words as truth
denying my mind a clear verdict
only to bring me closer to the shadow
and cower in its safety
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 10:12 AM UTC
slave is someone who does not have authority over their own lives slave is someone subservient controlled dominated by somebody something slave works very hard for little or no pay slave is property of somebody something slave is someone forced to obey
sycophant is someone servile who overly flatters more powerful individual for personal gain sycophant is bootlicker brown-noser fawner flunkey doormat lackey lap-dog yes-men parasite toad-eater (pause reposition) somebody possessed of excessive vanity may cultivate sycophant swarms
side by side they stand clothed in black not quite similar the one slightly taller possibly because the other suffers poor posture perhaps they are related because in odd way they appear alike or of same ilk yet upon closer scrutiny it becomes apparent they have very little or nothing in common the taller one with troubled sad eyes the other smiling obsequiously the taller one more muscular ***** from working menial labor the other with curved spine slumped shoulders because of undue bowing and crouching while blowing smoke up other people’s *****
sadist is someone who attains ****** gratification by inflicting physical pain shame to other people sadist is someone who delights in excessive cruelty degradation to others
********* is someone who achieves ****** pleasure from being hurt humiliated abused dominated punished often self-inflicted ********* is someone who enjoys being harmed misused mistreated ignored by others
sadomasochist is someone who gets ****** gratification by alternately or simultaneously enduring hurt causing pain to somebody else sadomasochist is combination of sadistic masochistic tendencies in someone who obtains ****** pleasure from inflicting submitting to pain cruelty
sycophant slave snakes up leg of movie actress dictator who gains pain through pleasure 2000 miles from equator IED cell phone detonator sycophant dilettante ***** up to sadistic art critic or publishing editor on escalator while below on main floor of shopping mall ice rink figure skater pirouettes bows to nominator surreptitiously bribed by infiltrator mutilator
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 4:38 AM UTC
Depression is oppression.
It's a deadly hidden message
Defined by self-hate.
It seals its prisoner's fate.
It holds you captive and throws out the key.
It stabs and jabs just to see you bleed,
Inflicting wounds that scar for life.
Destruction is its mother and death its wife.
You can cry, but it will always ignore your screams.
It terrorizes your soul and haunts your dreams.
It sends you false hope through a bottle or pill.
It destroys your goals and inflicts its will.
You can't run, nor can you hide.
By its rules you will abide
Until it celebrates that you have died.
Open your eyes, or you will be its prey.
It will blur your vision in the most twisted way.
It will seek your destruction and call for your head.
You will lie and wait but never rest in your bed.
Peace will come to those who want peace,
But as long as you feed him, you will see the beast.
You can't run, nor can you hide,
But if you conquer the beast, you will survive.
Prayer and hope can lead the way.
Cling on to every word you pray.
Hope is in truth.
Hate is in lies.
Pray for your soul and open your eyes.
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 12:49 PM UTC
I am...
Funny word that
So perfect, so fitting
****** -"relating to the mind." "A psychopath"
"Somatic " - "relating to the body, especially as distinct from the mind."
Its great knowing the pain I feel...
All of its in my head.
I'm crazy for inflicting it on myself
But im ****** i cant help it
Psychosomatic is what I am
Mind over matter...right?
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
I always have this nightmare.
This nightmare has no ghosts, or zombies, or anything unreal.
This nightmare I have is about a sad boy, who hates the world and struggles with everything in life.
This nightmare is about a boy who can’t focus on studying because he has to focus on keeping the rope under the bed.
This nightmare is about a boy who can’t focus on eating because he has to fight that urge whenever crossing a bridge.
This nightmare is about a boy who can’t have friends because of his anxiety and his lack of ability to cope with life.
This nightmare is about a boy who uses alcohol and drugs as a crutch because it works better than therapy and pills.
This nightmare is about a boy who still cries over his mother, creating memories of her instead of reliving them because she was gone before he was born.
This nightmare is about a boy with no dad because he ran away from the future of this boy.
This nightmare is about a boy who tries to forget about the pain by inflicting pain on himself.
This nightmare is about a sad boy who is lost.
This nightmare is real.
That boy is me.
I’m still waiting to wake up.
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:26 PM UTC
She wakes up with a shock, instantly feels the blood boil from her head down to her toes. Its the sound of that door.
The repetitive sound of that door slamming is a reminder of the poison in her life who seamlessly seeps into her heart continuing to infuse her mind with hate.
That door is used for a swinging entrance into her soul leaving it with touches of darkness until she simply can't understand how to love another person; how to empathize with another's time of distress. She loses touch, suffering to understand what love is.
The life who uses that door brought her into this world and smothers their existence with cold truths, lies, neglect, and stories of their past; inflicting damaging images and thoughts that cannot be unheard.
She's trying to persevere, but they persist to acknowledge their unreceptive response to her cry's for help, it destroys her light; leading her down the path where the poison starts to consume all her thoughts and distorts her rights to express herself with the constant feeling of never being heard.
You built darkness in her and every layer affects even the smallest of challenges in life but you left her with a flame of curiosity to understand what others could not even care to comprehend; she sustains her curiosity for life.
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 6:39 PM UTC
I return home
from another long night
putting on shows for
people I do not know
and with people
I can scarcely
relate
to
my legs ache,
my hands twitch,
little bites and
bruises liter my body
like some kind of
war paint
there is no satisfaction
in this any more
there is a deep unfulfillment
in the life I am now living
I move slowly,
each action taking more
and inflicting more,
while I contemplate the
meaning of my life
(once again)
and look about my bedroom
wondering why I have allowed
it to become so
messy
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 11:23 AM UTC
Oxygen is precious
and I continue to waste it
contemplating life
and the decisions I make in it
but I can't decide if it's
sadness or anger I'm filled with
I clench my jaw constantly
and I cry in my sleep
don't know what I'm worth
every day I'm reminded I'm weak
decisions decisions, a lack of ambition
or rather the strength to acquire
what I desire and I know
life is truly a lustrous haze
My soul wants to dance
whilst my heart wants to fight
inflicting pain on others
only to lessen my strife
my mind is a complex maze of thought
thinking we were gifted with intelligence
but now I get it, it's a curse to see
understand, realise and go on knowingly
that life is hard and the world is not fair
well I realised it young
so I can admit that I'm scared
the people that comforted me,
stood by my side, seem unaware
I hope people see something in me
because I don't
I see pain filled eyes when I wash my face
I connect with a reflection
that has felt my pain
I doubt everyone else is different
we're all ashamed
the circumstances differ but
the pain is the same
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 1:12 PM UTC
I adore you.
for your thoughts and the ideals that are effortlessly created in your head.
the way it is so easy for you to speak of reality in public but when you're all alone you're not so sure you even agree with your views.
I adore you for the way you try to keep yourself together for the sake of others concern.
you never wanted to be a burden
you never wanted to be pitied
you never wanted to show weakness
and I adore you for being so strong you fail to realize your own potential.
you're a self-inflicting walking contradiction but to every one else you're seen as the one that has it all figured out.
and for that, I adore your hope and your will to pick yourself up after the countless times life has knocked you down.
you are one to be adored,
my love.
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 12:18 AM UTC
what the hell is love anyway? why is there this supposed special connection to someone. And why do we fret so much when it goes away? what makes it different than a friendship? is it the extra doses of horomones you get from kissing? (wich, lets face it, is oly a trigger to the brain to think of ****** contact) why must humans search and find this ONE person the propose impossible promises to? Most animals just let their ****** need envelope them when they choose and dont think too much on the subject. But doses of religion and morals of society prohibit us from doing that. Are those morals the things telling us to seek out this unreasonable aspect of love? are those morals the secret to these pain-inflicting circumstances? becasue, all feelings are are certain levels and mixtures of horomones in the brain, so love is nothing more than a science. The thing that seperates the link between enjoing someone as a friend and as a suitor is *** and the eason people get heartbroken and cry over losers who hurt them are merely the fault of morals
Jun 6, 2010
Jun 6, 2010 at 4:50 PM UTC
Oh, what I would give to be nine and benign
Because as I grow older the flow of concepts grows heavier
And swirls around me rapidly
Creating a whirlpool
I can feel the world pull
In the gravity of ideas
Given weight by words
That brings down birds
We look up only to see Jupiter
And we live on the Earth's back
Weighed down like mules by it's presence
Carrying conflicting considerations
Ideas inflicting incineration
The rain precipitating from the clouds in our minds
Develops a lofty humidity within humanity
And the leaves on the trees point downward
Erecting walls
To trap us in our gravity garrison
Plotting ways to crush each other
Time becomes the most effective method
As we wait to weigh down wanderers
With a point of view
In our gravitational pull
To make them our mule
Carrying our concepts
To strengthen our impact on the maelstrom
As our brain gets bolder
The water gets colder
But this ocean keeps spinning
Keeping the frigid water from freezing
And the gravity of what we think
Is the gravity that makes us sink
From concept cradle to gravity grave
Tranquil transcendence is what we crave
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 8:12 AM UTC
I felt hatred deep through my veins,
It burnt my skin
Planting the seed of vengeance
‘How dare you’
Your words flashed in my mind.
You tear open my wounds
With your pitiful words,
You **** me every time,
You breathe my name.
You confess your love,
That chokes me every night.
You’re the poison that I ingested,
Voluntarily, naïve little thing.
You strangle me with your words,
Stifling the smothered screams.
You gnash my skin
With your ****** teeth,
You tear open my insecurities,
Piece my piece I pay the price
Of surrendering to the devil.
You call me lovingly,
‘Little pet’,
You expect me to swallow your lies,
The shackles of your tribulations.
You whisper sweet nothings,
Of how I’ll ‘join the great majority’,
And you’ll hunt again,
A prey to torture,
A sacrifice.
How can I let you?
You broke my soul,
Tarnished my body,
For your sickening self;
You reduced me to ashes
For what?
I wait for you to return.
You’re asleep,
Are you tired from inflicting torture?
Oh how sad, aren’t you the victim here.
I sneak up to your lithe form,
You breathe my name,
Is it a silent prayer, darling?
I plunged the knife deep into your heart,
The ***** he doesn’t feel.
Your eyes open, you’re shocked,
You didn’t expect betrayal.
The predator, soaked in blood,
Calls out again, the last time,
Losing his breath, sweating profusely.
‘Die, pet’
Nice retraction, right?
The Hunter dies pleading the hunted,
Ragged breath, such music to my ears.
You die, a meaningless death,
You succumb to that knife you use to ****
**** the others, **** me.
You die, a sobbing mess,
Too cold for life.
Jul 13, 2021
Jul 13, 2021 at 9:45 AM UTC
The chilling nature who stood still,
Once decided to dance her way,
Inflicting a stir around as she moved,
Causing the world a great loss.
Thousands took their last breath,
While countless lost their shelters and families.
Rescuers sweat day and night,
Holding on to a fading hope.
The city that was once smiling,
Turned to a mass of shattered rubble.
Homes that were once full of laughter,
Declined to a mass of ****** dust.
The nature stopped her dance and left,
Leaving behind a cracked dance floor,
Leaving an air of cold death,
Leaving the whole earth mourning.
Feb 13, 2023
Feb 13, 2023 at 1:23 AM UTC
I sought satisfaction in stupid sheepishly and shallow strides.
Scared subconsciously, I swallow and sustain substance for pseudo self esteem strengthening.
I seemed of in service to slumber and stinging sadness, shots sank like ships, submerging into the sea of my swarthy stomach in seconds.
I somewhat sympathies as a sailor, sweating, struggling and swimming in slipping sobriety saturated in my sulking style.
Scanning swarms of serial swindlers, striking sculptures stances of self-doubt.
I stammer in a storm of slurs, ******* down my safety, stopping myself at the stoop of the saloon I see a seductive silhouette staging the space.
She stroke my sight, standing sanguine in scarlet, soul sold in high heels.
The smoothest sculptures in seven square miles were subjugated into scree and I was ****** in submission.
Stubborn staggering suitors, stand shaking silently as she is stopped by sharks stalking and snarling sycophantics.
So straightforward in suggesting their secret starvation to strip sensations, seem by seem, like a sub-par **** cinema scene.
They step and speak short.
She smokes off, stranding the scree in smoldering slaughter.
Its sad this soul-less sanctuary soaking up sorrows.
So self inflicting, and so satisfyingly side splitting.
She sported her spurned, scorned off into sadistic solitude and stained sticky stigma, sobbing to sleep.
So spent from simple stocked, stored and supported senescence of ceremonial subjection of ****** status.
I savior my sincerity, and stretched out of this strange stadium of stooges.
So long scarlet sanguine I sang softly, as she stole my sight suspiciously in sync with hers.
Sacrificial seconds split from smearing stolidity to sharing a smile.
That's simple satisfaction, so I seen scripted in sitcoms and shows.
Supporting sapiens in stasis to see sappy stunners on screen, to stare snoopy, as stabs and slashes strike socially into socialites of so called sanity and sovereignty.
To sweetly pay salvage as slaves of soppy studio slander.
Such is this sorry Saturday night, I am solidified in sedation.
Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
Persephone smiles the darkness to light
Yet I am but blinded by my own vice
Twas my greed which choked her dreams of youth
To ferment her innocence in sweet vermouth
I bear the warriors of battles lost
Greet them with warmth bitten by frost
And heroes who see the journey through
To the Elysian Fields where hope's renewed
I cage the souls whose just deserve
To feed the fires beneath the earth
Tormenting Demons with whips of flames
Wicked Witches Inflicting infinite pain
Who am I but that which has been written thus far
The God of the Netherworld, Lord of Brimstone and Fire
Yet more than that, I've become and so I am
So fear me not less thou be ******
Persephone smiles the darkness to light
For those who dare to stand and fight...
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 8:05 AM UTC
I am tired of being a beggar
Gripping you to my desperate chest,
it only makes you turn on me
My anger, my hate, is only
love pushed back into my giving bones.
Take it, take it,
take these tears
I do not want the world without you
I live on your fingertips
but I can't reach your distant face
Maybe I should take the note, stay away
where I no longer feel the distance
in every space
Hell is loving at arms length.
So why be loved but a beggar
that is a game
inflicting an ounce more love than the pain
reeling me back just to feel cold again
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 9:45 PM UTC
“What can a poem do?”
—————————-
***”A poem
is a not a tourniquet
when you’re bleeding.
It’s not water when you’re thirsty
or food when you’re hungry.
A poem can’t protect you from an airstrike,
or from abduction, or from hate.
It’s hard to write when our words feel
like they’re not enough—they can’t do
the real, tangible work of saving lives,
or making people safer.”***
(see (1) Maggie Smith)
<~>
as is my wont,
I write,
as is my Natted~inhabited,
retiring to the local watering holes of
Cerebrum & Cerebellum,
them regular haunts,
where all requests are mailed, processed, satisfied & marked;
‘return & render to the sender, who’s on a cerebral ******
and that request?
‘give me the words’ (2)
those ‘to do’ words, floaters, direct to top of list,
those ‘can do’ words, that can effect the affect,
spare the despair, realize the fungible, concretize cures,
soften hard waters, giving a worsening worn life fabric a
curated baby blanket feel, a 4-ply human tissue of
‘words that tell me everything’ (2)
salve solution verbs that bounty-wipe spills in entirety,
vacuum up spillage spoiling of 17 days of terrible nouns,
uncovered-unknown rages caused by inflicting prepositions
released a hatred rising,
safety rebury it deeper, drug & destruct the sleeper agents,
and let me start over again with
‘telling me everything by saying nothing’ (2)
the pausal silence, the quieted spaces tween the heartbeats,
where ‘reflection,’
the noun,
and its world of alternations,
reflection,
the noun,
look inwards, but shining outward,
this, this!
is where the poem goes to do!
enervating & arresting
its contradictory powers
rock you into wild docility,
possessive and submissive,
contradictory interferences,
smoothing the roughness,
closing the gaps it opens,
healing the caused truthful cuts,
with words that tell you
everything and nothing,
open the holes, filling the gaps,
that is what a
poem do,
in and by
the manner it is spoken…
<~>
“Sometimes a poem is the stone you carry in your pocket—the one you rub when you’re worried. Let’s fill our pockets with poems.”
(see (1) Maggie Smith)
Oct 24, 2023
Oct 24, 2023 at 10:10 PM UTC
How can you live with such a negative mind
Only thriving on misery and tales unkind
You wonder why you have such bad luck
When its all Happiness you drain and ****
Your outlook is dark and bleak
No positivity do you seek
Inflicting your woe on all that will listen
Like a plague, sorrow you do christen
Your outlook physically drains me
I have one and only single plea
Is that you seek some positivity
What will it take for you to see
That from the bad comes negativity
No good can come from misery
This is the truth you fail to see.
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 4:08 AM UTC
The Samurai sword cuts
Through my soul
Each syllable marking a
Swathe through my heart.
Those words
Couched in wellbeing,
laced with malice.
Careless
You seek to heal your pain
By inflicting another.
Fear
For the loss.
Control of another your comfort.
Destroy my heart then oh wise one.
Try if you will,
But remember,
I know!
Your words may hurt but
I am strong
They will not destroy.
I have decreed it so!
Within this lies my strength.
I will not surrender
Nor flee
But fly.
Beware your weapon yielding
That you cut not your own soul
In two
Beware.
Oct 21, 2009
Oct 21, 2009 at 1:02 AM UTC
If one heart breaks too many times, the outcome is severe,
This is my first-hand account, and why I’m standing here.
I was not protected, believed, comforted or heard
To expect I’d rally differently, or better is absurd.
Who the hell do you think you are?
Creating demons, and inflicting scars
Never showing me affection, and rarely being kind
Really does a number on a child’s simple mind.
I slid a razor over my skin, the first time when I was six
The cuts have healed just fine, mental anguish ******* sticks
The problem is, the six year old, you tortured has grown up
Turns out I can be loved Frances,
so I filled my own cup
You mean nothing to me Frances.
Ivan, **** you too!
I hope you know, in many ways,
I've killed the both of you.
Sam I ******* hate your stupid *** for what you did.
Do you feel remorseful now, or are you still ******* kids?
My wish for you… suffering, much more before your dead
If I were you, I’d **** myself, just like the voices said.
Eric you aren't worth a single word from me or a wisp of air,
You could die today in fact and nobody would care.
Ivan you’re the disappointment, you aren't even a man.
Get in my face you ******* coward and I’ll drop you where you stand.
Judge not, lest he be judged himself; old man I wouldn't dare
You should have ******* stopped him Ivan, after all, you were right there
Instead you did what you do best and hid under a hood
You probably think we'll meet in hell, but me and God are good
Keep yourselves away from me, I am better than y’all
My heads held high, were toe to toe, I’m big now and you’re small.
Those of you reading this might think I’m being mean
Trust me though when I say this you ain't seen anything
Heidi Shavill
2013
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 1:02 AM UTC