"infuriatingly" poems
There's a nail,
he's set up camp in my brain.
Hammered with daylight,
held infuriatingly fast by night.
Even the stiffest claw
would be of no use,
not anymore.
His presence would herald slumber,
were I of a normal stock.
But no. He brings attention to
the tick. The tock.
If I inch him further,
with fervour,
maybe he will abdicate,
adjacent to his entry.
But I know he'll return,
pitching by the morn,
leaving my rest
completely,
utterly,
torn.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 9:27 PM UTC
We fed ourselves on New Year's well
Gifts were exchanged over the song The First Noel
The evening before Christmas drinks were had
Many fooling themselves that they are glad
Throughout the cheer, men, women, and children in Yemen forgotten
Leftover turkeys and roasts would be hurriedly eaten even if found rotten
Starvation has Yemeni bodies eating themselves
Have you seen photos of their emaciated figures on newspapers' shelves
Pregnant women and newborn babies with dead husbands and dead fathers
How do they care for themselves when in the grand scheme of things no one bothers
Saudi military should go **** on themselves
Murderous cowards that they are playing with Santa's elves
Women in Yemen being ***** and domestic violence bring me to tears
Would they get away with their satanic work if the U.S. wasn't kissing their filthy rears
Seriously dangerous diseases running rampant
Yemenis beautiful skin no longer so lambent
So few of us care enough to choke up for our Ahmeds and for our Imans
I ask infuriatingly will it take a whole country's destruction to rise for Yemen's Marwans
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 10:45 PM UTC
You know what, this is not a love story this time. In this case, it never was. I thought it was, but I was mistaken and lied to by my lonely heart. And For once, I am standing my ground and telling you what you deserve to hear.
**** you.
**** you for making me so dependent on you that I was scared to stand up to you, even though you were cruel to everyone I loved. You may have thought you were cute, you may have thought it was your odd way of love, but it was honestly just an excuse to be an utter ***** to everyone and none of us should have tolerated it.
**** you for competing with me. I am not a competitive person, but you'd laugh and comment how you were better, smarter, more mature. It drove me wild. Not only because your arrogance made me want to drive you into the ground, but also because it made me feel like I had to prove myself to you, brag in front of you, compete with you to feel worthy.
**** you for turning on me at my weakest. Over a boy for god's sakes. I was your best friend, the one you turned to and confided in, and you started to completely disregard me over a boy I had feelings for first. You had no respect for our friendship in any facet, and it made me regret letting you in at all.
**** you for always being at the back of my mind, for being so infuriatingly insidious that I have to always check up on you and worry about you even though you don't deserve it. For doing things that don't make me feel anything but pity and concern for your life, instead of being proud and maybe thinking I could accept you.
**** you for making me want to **** myself. For being the selfish catalyst who showed me the cuts on her legs and made me feel so guilty that I didn't deserve life. Everyone deserves life, even the cruelest of people, and to purposefully make me feel that worthless, just to try to win me back, was the most heartless, selfish, thoughtless thing you could have ever done.
**** you for being similar to me in any frivolous way, because now I am utterly terrified to be anything like you. Obsessive, rude, cruel, thoughtless, and selfish. I fear for my boyfriend, my friends, everyone around me because I know being your friend has given me the capacity to be just as ruthless as you. And I hate you for it.
**** you for making me forget anything pleasurable about our relationship. All I can feel is a burning frustration when I hear your name, or an overwhelming sadness, or endless anger. None of it is pleasant.
**** you for everything you've done to me, and **** the dark part of my heart that exists now because of your knives stabbing me in the back.
**** you for still making me think about you, and **** you for any part of me that is like you.
I'm done with you. This is the end. Its ******* over.
And just remember.
**** you.
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
She was the resident insomniac
(The lack never showed on her beautiful mind)
Her green eyes pierce the dark at 3 in the morning
(The only thing sharper than her gaze was her wit)
She was the wisps of flyaway hair
The shadows magnifying her cheeks
She was a collection of features
Eyes, lips, hands
Melded seamlessly, stitches invisible under the moonlight
She waited up night after night
(Her stubbornness was infuriatingly admirable)
But the open window yielded not a soul
And still she lay there, fingers twitching erratically
She was never one for happy endings anyways
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
Dear "adults",
I hate it when you look down on those of us in high school,
As if there's some sort of unspoken rule
That the time we spend in such a place
Is supposed to be sublime.
"Stop complaining."
I'm sorry, I assumed that when you asked about my day
I wasn't supposed to mask what I say
And tell you that everything is swell.
To what extent will you dismiss my discontent
Toward the discipline with hardly any discipline nowadays?
"You'll miss it. Just wait until you get into the real world."
The "real world"?
Why, suddenly, is my world not real enough for you?
From all I've been through in my life,
High school has presented me with the most strife, and so
Since when is a bit of resentment
Unjustified?
The nerve you pride
Yourself in having, presuming
That there is any amount of artificiality in my reality
Is infuriatingly consuming.
How can you think we could make any sense
Of the difficulties surrounding anything but what we've experienced?
This I cannot comprehend.
But maybe you want us to pretend?
"How was school today?"
Oh, it was okay.
I only dealt with misunderstanding,
The pressure of classes being so demanding,
The difficulty of self consciousness
That is amplified each day by bullies' relentlessness.
I only endured mental exhaustion
From switching subjects each hour, without option.
I simply struggled with your expectation
That colleges should long to give me an invitation,
Even though I'm being forced to commit to
A life plan I've made based off the little I've been through.
School is a privilege, we know,
Yet, so is possessing a job.
So why, then, am I a snob,
When you're allowed to 'complain'?
I realize that life could be much worse for me,
And someday high school might seem like a breeze,
But until the day comes when I become aware
That the troubles of high school cannot compare,
Let me have my time to vent, please.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
A mystery you can read and hear:
reading without understanding
and hearing without seeing
The wicked studied and searched diligently
to be on the right side at the right time
only revealing and judging themselves as evil
For without the Prophet's spirit
your interpretation reveals your spirit
oblivious to its grotesque nakedness
Only in private are mysteries explained
as parables were thousands of years ago
for you don't throw pearls to pigs
Then the mystery is as plain as the news
but not as the world count news
even as time is not as the world count time
Infuriatingly frustrating to speak plainly
it's obvious and inescapable as the sun
then your eyes open and you see the blind
Broken, stumbling, falling and crawling
proud of their wits, strength, and unity
I turn to see and touch the face of the sun
Mar 21, 2022
Mar 21, 2022 at 12:58 AM UTC
Search the chorus for a proper voice
a noted ring, a centering of whispered scream
like a elm glade catering on a soul cliff
the cliff, flies unforgiving, with smoke sting
a pest, but faith's river flows through amazing
infuriatingly slow
through a windowpane a pine vestige
We see nests unveiling
the falcon's spread magnificence
in September fade
remembering.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 1:51 AM UTC
I am infuriatingly out glowed with ecstasy
by post traumatic serotonin rush of the accident of
that my law breaking motor bike hit in another car
whom purely taking his turn to the left
Now it is the dawn of dusk, last few seconds of the day
but I never wanted to wash the blood of the scratches I got
instated I purely enjoy seen them drying up
nonetheless It felt to my juvenile mind some protagonist kind of a pride about me
keep walking with blood splatted white linen shirt and black shades
I am an ecstatic
I showed both the fingers to the docs and to the hospital staff
you know the prospect patient with an insurance
I was an innocent law breaker, Juvenile
thus no wonder why I see that turning to the left is never right
and of course neither to right is right because
the hospital , that was in the right from the junction
I only rode my bike straight in narrow bleak space of
all among the mid day traffic jam of insanely busy people
by the way car driver was a good guy
though he doesn't own that hybrid black boy he drove
we shook hands , shared good byes and I came back home
then breaking the virtue of healthy non smoking
I lit a cigarette
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 8:34 AM UTC
The way your smile looks like
a few rough times came in and knocked out your teeth
but the child stayed,
your laugh and it's booming base
like I'm at a metal concert being thrashed around by hundreds of people.
The way your eyes look like someone said something mean to you but you told them to **** off,
the way your skins feel against my skin soft like satin with an underlay of warmth.
How you didn't talk to me all week and I'm not mad
in fact all I did was think of you
and your smile, your laugh, your voice and your body against mine.
Finally,
the way your hug makes me realize how infuriatingly fragile I am and your arms are like the paste that holds me together.
I'm falling and I'm scared.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 7:32 PM UTC
Which is better
To feel nothing
But a halcyon calm
Like a fine summer morning,
Or to be ****** to and fro
By the ice, spray, and lightning
Of the tempest?
To stroll the meadow,
Or to climb the mountain?
I've gone through both
Yet the answer still eludes me
I remain as ignorant as I was
In the days of my youth
But what I do know
Is how my chest tightened
How my breath caught
When you sent me a message
(Your very first)
And how my lips impulsively purse
As I peek at yours
And at the speck of a mole
Resting right below
What I do know
Is how I couldn't keep my eyes
From straying towards your corner
(Still can't)
And how my hand trembled
Just as I squeezed your shoulder
Bidding you farewell
Or how I've worn out my iPod
Replaying Jay Chou's ballads
As I sang my heart out to my steering wheel
Numbly crawling through
The maddening, seething traffic
And how the breeze eats my cigarette
Down to its filter
As I stare up
Dumbfounded
Mapping out
Tracing your face among the stars
How my neurotransmitters **** me
Closer and closer to a heart attack
And how my soul weeps and bemoans
The yawning chasm betwixt us
While you sit there infuriatingly oblivious
Chattering away about Warcraft and barley tea
All these things are
The few of what I do know
The last of which
Is how I'll never have you.
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 9:39 PM UTC
How can I call it a loss
When there was nothing there
Nothing to work with
Nothing of value
You were never a friend
Infuriatingly ignorant
Of the poison you pour
Down everyone's throat
No, this is not a loss
But a liberation
Free from spite that you carry
Free to not worry about what havoc
You will unleash when I am not there
To keep you at bay
Away from my family
Away from my friends
Take your Spite
Take your Jealousy
Your Hated and Envy
And place them on someone else.
And don't fool yourself
Make the decision for me?
No, you just beat me to the punch
Telling me I was not your friend
I don't think we ever were.
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 11:12 AM UTC
You are earth but I can’t feel the sky closing in
You haven’t seen my face but marked like mine
I’ve seen your hand in my sunglasses
And that’s just enough fight for me
Calling out does no good for petulant screams
I can’t believe you’ve never seen the sea
I know now you’ll never again want me
Ghosts in my hall and monsters in my soul
I couldn’t betray them if I tried
Silence is no sorrow I’ve ever known
Gravel and rock in my path wear and weather
All of my best feet have jaded holes
Lies untouched are never unspoken
Filth and fondness grow clandestinely
Gazing nostalgically and infuriatingly far
Find my ever mutable, lost, and final role
Past is no present I’d imagine living again
You are earth but I’m not closing in
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 11:47 PM UTC
I want to be -
What?
That is the problem. I simply want to be.
To clarify -
I wish to be me.
See, me - it is not the easiest thing to free. Eighteen years of uncertainty, of broken puzzle-piece searches through fear, love, art, what have you -
All for the chance to grasp even an inkling of identity;
Of me.
But, look -
I did it.
A start, anyhow. I saw my shadow, my outline,
and without hesitation
It was seized.
I gripped it tight
Refusing to let something sought so long
Slip through my fingers like water would fall.
Yet I lack time
I lack space
I lack ability,
Opportunity,
To break free of old restraints
Me - it is just infuriatingly
Beyond reach
I see you, me. I know what I need.
Yet I lay here imprisoned in a world worn by greed
Worked like a slave til eyes droop with fatigue
All I need is a door
A little room to escape
Room to breathe; breathing space
To find residence elsewhere;
Grab "me" on the way.
(Then, maybe then - I'll find peace. Some day.)
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 2:12 PM UTC
To escape this life
This stress
These schedules and time
My dream
My wish
Impossible yet
Yet
I want it so badly
Sunset
Warmth
To lay next to you
And to escape this infuriatingly repetitive
Stressful life
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 11:06 AM UTC
Words flow simple,
Without a thought.
When you're in love,
And she's far beyond.
But the closer she gets,
The harder it seems.
To be the same love,
That made you lose sleep.
Nights filled with wonder,
Are now spent with her.
The nearer she gets,
The further you disappear.
Infatuatingly frightful,
Infuriatingly close.
Her love deems you mindless,
Wondering what went wrong.
For everything is right,
But the world seems hazed.
A misty might,
A question in the glaze.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 11:29 AM UTC
Can you love someone like me?
Who's grown Comfortable alone in my own zone like me?
Can you really invest in me?
Are you going to be there during my best and my worst because the two things are so different you see
Can you love someone who's been rejected
Brokenhearted, dosed, depressed, yet infuriatingly introspective
Can you look past the medieval exterior and see the troubled but loving soul within?
Do I meet your short term requirements? Or am I simply not a "good enough" man?
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 11:17 AM UTC
Banging banging banging
Against the head board
Thinking of good reasons to do things
Head growling humming whispering
Good enough but not good enough
Every which way spinning
Convulsing
Bright lights in the corner
But how to reach it
Turn it off
It's too big of a glimpse
Into what's in store
Just so infuriatingly close
Just so far
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 4:23 PM UTC
I love you
Our love is anger in alleys
And fights to nowhere
Our love is dead end cellphone calls to red giants and endless trips to deeper and
deeper space
Where nothing is real nor exists and yet
reality infuriatingly becomes the universe
Our love is two feet and ground and
escaping red balloons or
a forgotten child's hair ribbon trapped in a windy tree
Our love is earth and fire and water but no wind
And the sky's eventual fall on our heads
Our sweetest downfall
I loved you first
and last and backwards and forwards and sideways and longways and slantways and backways
Our love is 'I know you' from age 11 to infinity
Take the word love and fill it with
150 years of time.
That's the love I mean.
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 11:50 PM UTC
You’re one of those amazingly indescribable people;
infuriatingly abstract and so intriguing to someone like me.
Like over-romanticised black coffee,
and being woken up by birdsong and dawn
after sleeping on your arm so it feels like a stolen limb,
a whole part of you is weightless, numb
and you never realised how heavy you were
until you tried picking yourself back up.
And you’re like new school shoes
and my lopsided ears that made my glasses,
tilt to one side,
so no one else saw the world like I did.
Like finding money in the grime,
of the sofas abyss, or behind the
loose tile were I’d hide gum
but then realising its counterfeit.
And yet, you were like the major C
but my strings weren’t tuned
and I left you flat.
You are like the final sunset of summer,
your profile burning in the bonfire,
the ash gluing to your eyelashes,
and your feet buried in the sand
toes peeking through
but already gone.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
Dear Adults,
I hate it when you look down on those of us in high school,
As if there's some sort of unspoken rule
That the time we spend in such a place
Is supposed to be sublime.
"Stop complaining."
I'm sorry, I assumed that when you asked about my day
I wasn't supposed to mask what I say
And tell you that everything is swell.
To what extent will you dismiss my discontent
Toward the discipline with hardly any discipline nowadays?
"You'll miss it. Just wait until you get into the real world."
The "real world"?
Why, suddenly, is my world not real enough for you?
From all I've been through in my life,
High school has presented me with the most strife, and so
Since when is a bit of resentment
Unjustified?
The nerve you pride
Yourself in having, presuming
That there is any amount of artificiality in my reality
Is infuriatingly consuming.
How can you think we could make any sense
Of the difficulties surrounding anything but what we've experienced?
This I cannot comprehend.
But maybe you want us to pretend?
"How was school today?"
Oh, it was okay.
I only dealt with misunderstanding,
The pressure of classes being so demanding,
The difficulty of self consciousness
That is amplified each day by bullies' relentlessness.
I only endured mental exhaustion
From switching subjects each hour, without option.
I simply struggled with your expectation
That colleges should long to give me an invitation,
Even though I'm being forced to commit to
A life plan I've made based off the little I've been through.
School is a privilege, we know,
Yet, so is possessing a job.
So why, then, am I a snob,
When you're allowed to 'complain'?
I realise that life could be much worse for me,
And someday high school might seem like a breeze,
But until the day comes when I become aware
That the troubles of high school cannot compare,
Let me have my time to vent, please.
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 8:56 AM UTC
I don’t think I have ever had such a crush on someone and simultaneously been so unbelievably infuriatingly frustrated with them. Thinking of you makes me feel like my chest is on fire. Maybe it’ll help if you kiss me in the cold, or maybe I’ll just put my heart on ice. Lovers want what they can’t have, and I’m in wanting again. You’re like wishing for rain in a desert. The lion chases the lamb but the lamb is just a little too fast this time around. I’m speaking in metaphors, but honey, we’re a walking cliche.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
-
**** turns out i'm good at
fanboy lit.*
or what i should rather say,
the beast
that constitutes
the sound technicians
at music feeds studio,
even with a cheap
SoundMAGIC
headphones
inserted into a samsung
device...
nirvana...
notably with the following
track ghost's
rendition of their song ritual...
otherwise the burned
version by 22valkryia's
channel...
yet there's a more subtle
point,
i never really appreciated
metallica...
because the rhythm
guitar section almost always
overshadowed
the cushion underpinning
of employing a bass guitar
to make a drummer
less pots and pans
and actual drums...
so...
i could never pick up the bass
notes in their music...
well, apart from devil's dance,
but... that's hardly an
argument...
if i can't pick up
on the bass guitar presence,
i don't know why the music
has to lean so much on rhythm guitar,
rhythm guitarist's megalomania
i suppose...
it's still amazing
to appreciate the golden ratio
element of how to synchronise
all the instruments, with the vocals,
condensed into a bite
rather than just overblown
concernt hall orchestral suites...
golden ratio interpretation?
the following schematic:
*d:v
=*
with instruments in between
the extremes grinding teeth,
i.e. synchronised flow,
d? drums
v? vocals...
if drums are in synch. ratio
to the vocals,
authentic melody can
"rummage"
between them...
always the missing bass line
in metallica,
overbearing with rhythm guitar...
i'm not surprised why
9,260,609 people have
listened to this track
at 01:47 sunday march 4th...
and to think that
something like https://oeis.org/A060707
(the online encyclopedia
of integer sequences)
exists...
and here's me,
a pauper with a poem.
i have absolutely no idea
what motivates me to write these
bites into a blank canvas,
just today i "discovered" 4chan.
little help did it do me,
arthur scherbius
and his antithesis
alan turing,
and now this:
users,
content creators...
if i were to make my bets:
i'm collateral (in the adjective form)
but hey,
in the meantime there's the remaining
whiskey,
and this track
of music
that's infuriatingly good
in the capacity to cause
a shiver.
in the memory of: martyrs.
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 9:02 PM UTC
jealousy
ragged breaths
green eyed monster crawling in the pit of my stomach
long fingernails clawing my sides
a searing urge to prove myself
a desperate want to kick you in the face
a concealed longing (from even myself) yearning to have that too
to not feel this way
to be there in your place
and wipe out that infuriatingly smug look off your face
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 8:41 PM UTC