"inhibit" poems
dear pisces
you are always thinking about things that are not in front of you
dear dreamer, your dreams inhibit you from me
please come back to the present, i rely on you too much for you to be so far
even when you're right beside me
love, cancer
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 4:36 PM UTC
Fragile little butterfly; You broke the golden barrier of delicate crystal which used to inhibit your abilities, and now you're free. The kaleidoscopic wings on your back only show how much more colourful you are on the inside.
If only everybody could see.
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 12:27 PM UTC
Standing there
With a mute stare
Amazed by you
Paralyzed by you
I became a speechless poet
No free-flowing words to inhibit
Stuck in redundant phrases
Running around in silent mazes
My bright poetry is suddenly evanescent
How did you freeze my precious talent?
My fancy lies
and my sincere confessions
My angry cries
and my serene discretions
My skill dies
distorted by your presence
As my voice tries
hardly a single expression
Then my brain denies
your acute aggression
As my fixed eyes
scream my inner passion
Then you left.
You left
But I stayed there
With my mute stare
Speechless because of you
Brainless because of you
My stupidity crystal clear
My creativity in denial
And you left me here
wishing you stayed near
Suffering from your withdrawal
~Epic Monkey
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
A breadcrumb I am - the morsel of my old dough,
a piece of chewed bread rotten, missed near a toe,
shredded by the sons of righteousness and “normality”,
entombed I am under the carpet to fulfil “morality”.
Mum added the yeast for me to grow, as well as flour,
Hoping my crust would golden as a vivid live flower,
She sprinkled little salt into me, to know the grimes,
Sugar too, for life brings out the salt to eyes, at times.
Dad poured the water, to soften toughness uncalled,
For man is kind too, not merely clay masked, walled -
And above all, they added affection and compassion,
They wanted me to satisfy mineself, not one’s ration.
Into the oven, 9 minutes, under fire: I show colors,
The warmth turned the heart warm for all others;
I am left to rest, to harden the shell and eternal body,
To be perfect as ma and pa wish: not adverse, shoddy.
But the stale, unpuffed, unfresh bread of this world,
covets but loathes what is good and not yet twirled,
It wishes for me to inhibit mold and evict dignity,
Mais allez, étrange moi, expose me not to malignity.
The least of their gurgling sounds puncture heads,
And the weakest of their advice the spirit dreads;
The making of me is the capacity of mine flexes,
Your ingredients suit not me, mortals and sexes.
Days yearn for you, not this battle of complexes:
You, mine old dough who suddenly “complex” is,
My parents baked me on low heat nice and gentle,
And they sear me with words not for me, mental!
Know you: Pita, Kmajj, Brioche, Shrak, or Baguette,
Bread is bread, could be different, but it is no threat.
Jan 18, 2023
Jan 18, 2023 at 9:27 AM UTC
Texting somebody close to you,
Gossiping,
Chatting,
OMGees are all flying around,
LoLs flooding your tiny box,
Yet you're determined to stay aground.
I always have wondered why to limit,
Why to cap English or inhibit,
Replacing good ol’ words with some wicked text,
Emoticons they call,
Insipid, dull, and sluggish,
Emoticons they’re called.
Although indolence has reached its bounds,
And although my vote is utterly trifling,
Admit it,
Concede it,
Conclude it,
Emoticons’ presence should be abolished.
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 7:30 AM UTC
Trains at the bottom of the garden
metal dragons breathing out smoke and steam
huffing and puffing, waiting for the signal
some compact with tanks affixed
others larger, more grand
pulling colour matched tenders
sometimes bearing shields and names
beginning with 'Duchess' or 'City'
mostly black, some rusty
deep reds or greens
with contrasting lines edged in gold
Once one came in matt pink
and I wondered why it didn't gleam
like the others, perhaps pink
was a colour not to be given
it's equal due with other
less feminine shades
it had to be denied vibrancy
yet I loved the pink one best
later I learned somehow
that the colour was that
of the primer used
to inhibit the rust
and my pink engine
was just an unfinished paint job
pressed into service
prematurely to give cover
for another that was broken
I wrote down the numbers regardless
it was a ritual that one performed
though I didn't understand why
yet it was exciting
to record a new one
that hadn't passed before
Behind the business end
came carriages laden heavy
with the visitors of summer
come to fill our beaches
and our town with their loudness
their raucous laughter
with strange accents
brummie, scouse, mancunian
faces pressed against glass
expectant, excited, impatient
almost there now
anxious that this last delay
pass quickly and the half mile
remaining be completed
We would lurk beneath the bridge
like adopted troll children
it was cool there in the summer heat
darting out from behind pillars
or in my case watchfully, cautiously
edging my way forward
to place pennies on the track
or sometimes nails
then to retrieve them
flattened, thinned, squashed
once the train had passed
sometimes we'd wait hours
or so it seemed
sometimes no train would come
and we would trail home
for tea and bath and bed
leaving our offerings
to the gods of the rail
for rediscovery and inspection
the following day.
Cynthia Pauline Jones 17/10/13
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 2:23 PM UTC
- I will always be willing to listen to your
stories, and will forever want to hear them.
Your words are as good as music to me.
- There will be days where the sun feels cold to
me and I am made a prisoner to my deepest fears.
There will be nights where I wake up sobbing,
just as much a prisoner as I was during the day.
Be gentle, be patient with me.
- I smile at everyone I make eye contact with on the street.
- I love in an earnest manner that can be
overwhelming. I am not malevolent,
but rather I have spent years being told
that my feelings aren’t worth listening to,
and I just have a lifetime’s worth of love to give.
- If you manage to hold what I can throw at you,
you’ve found someone in your
corner that won’t go without a fight.
- You’ll never see me fighting anyone.
- I’ve worried I’m too vulnerable for far too long;
I am raw and unadulterated and unabashedly so.
I refuse to inhibit what I have to say.
- I will give you all that I have and more;
please don’t take advantage of this.
- I will write about you, I will write about how
I feel, I will write about someone I once loved
and about how I once felt. Words and feelings
are fleeting, but they are also powerful.
- I will ask you questions until I’ve found out
everything there is to know about you-
including things you never thought about.
- I have friends who will call me in the dead of
night; I will answer the phone, I will drive to
their house with their favorite dessert in tow.
- I will pull over on the side of the road if the
clouds are compelling enough. I can sit for hours
watching the sun set or water fall. Either hold my hand
and join me, or let me be overwhelmed by something
greater than myself in peace.
- No one can or will love you the way that I do;
take that as my most horrid vice, or my most endearing virtue.
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 6:03 PM UTC
Negligible morsel of biomass
my fat belly, formerly abs
insignificant yet it occupies me
hourly while bored or hungry.
Fat is what? a picture
of despair, giving up caring
or man out of balance, other
side of the world's starving
mass, case of the soul's malnutrition
industrial agriculture, television
supermarkets, vacations, hydrocarbons
and the grid. Electricity, urban
traffic jams, photons at final
rest. Sugars synthesized, abundant
plastics to carry them home in.
Into your house and into your mirror.
Memorizing the periodic table
and learning the calculus makes one
no thinner. Walking the mountain
in heat and cold and rain, alone
or in fire crews should inhibit.
And a healthy fear of death. A laugh
a day at *** and pain and fate
which renews the biomass I hate.
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 10:52 AM UTC
I dream a million fireflies transporting me to this space
A Moon shadow casts a light upon my face.
A Young boy dreaming of tight lines on this Kinderhook NY stream,
Water droplets on frozen fly line, cast a prism sunbeam.
It's this time and special place that etches a constant memory,
Of Standing on that rock casting tight loops across the estuary.
Practice makes perfect as I make a presentation towards this riffle,
I can see a smile on my face, a moment in time that's purely transcendental.
With hope on the rise and a pheasant tail nymph tied to my tippet,
I make my way past the roily water to a calmer spot I'll inhibit.
Stripping line I load this feather chucker and place a nymph on the breezers nose
Zzzzzzz screams my reel and I scramble to fight this foe
As the snow begins to fall, I gaze upon this look of contentment in my eyes
And hover from above to watch myself learning to fly.
I whisper to myself, " Man life doesn't get any better than this",
As I kneel to release my catch, I watch him glide into the abyss.
And at day's end, I find myself walking beside the memory of Lou, Theodore, and Jack,
Three mentors who showed me the way, part of my Wulff pack.
Some Say "if I fished only to capture fish, my trips would have ended long ago",
And now I have something that money can't buy, the gift of learning to fly.
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 2:55 PM UTC
Whispers the heart, insisting and so soft,
"Life goes on. Death is not dying."
Faith, that is the message. Let His
will be done, however it works out.
Fears are there. Yes, they can consume.
They can strangle and inhibit the
very will to walk on. Ease them away,
He walks with you, soothing and firm.
We rumble through our eggshells,
rushing through buildings of steel.
Pushing, shoving, important in
our unimportance. Unbalanced.
We eat too much and love far
too little. Strain ours ears to
hear gossip and slander. Be
the image we pretend to be.
These are of such insignificance.
They are bottles of nothing, with
shaded glass. Emblems of issues
that are manufactured. Unfeeling.
The truth is in Him. When we
face trials of aggravations, tears
of lost hope, that is when we
need His care the most. Forgiven.
He has always been. He will
always be. He will glide the
care of the body if you give
Him the word. Yes, He answers.
So to Jesus, I appeal. I put my
trust and my fate. Though
blocked in fear, still I marvel,
that He is there for me. Amen.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 3:38 PM UTC
You came to stay
from the very first day
And I let you in
Cause with you, I felt peace within
You bring me happiness
when I am buried in sadness
you can make me smile anytime
as if i've made lemonade of life's lime
But my goals you inhibit
Cause you make me addicted
And I'll fight, fight and resist
to let myself taste a little bit
But once again I fail
another one you win
A process I thought I was gonna nail
but this feeling of a sin
is just going up the scale
The perfect mix of good and bad
Is litterally the best thing I've ever had
In this zone, with just you and me
I hope that none else will see
How many tablespoons I ate
Of the most delicious chocolate spread
May 6, 2021
May 6, 2021 at 9:15 PM UTC
alone
cold November
looking ******* anonymously
serotonin depleted
hours go as myself -- why not?
pleasing things
used relationship -- wanted ***
desire
supreme union
*** is all
of life
enmeshed forms
penetrate ******
there is nothing
eyes entering one another
nothing more
everything
unable to cut off
so follows the ********
so-called unnatural containers
natural pervert
let it be simple
It's the world
no better
confusion
convoluted nonsense
shoulders of an older age
inhibit our natural blossom
there is work I have prepared
creature flesh and circuitry
pleasuring it's lights
like fireworks of ****** intent
vines creep thighs
apes grunt -- ****** into the jungle
tigers mount
stars operate strange new images
life beckons fungus
devouring bombs
skeletons locked in copulation
boys sit
park & touch
condense into infinite arousal
shadow history
confrontation nature
you may not my body
they not your history
I am not yourself
no words express truth
simple realization most difficult
dead myths
wipe *** on brick
bottle of wine
glass of beer
golden halo, dream, hat, shoe
a puddle of ***** on my belly
endless marijuana and diction
handfuls of disappearing money
born into the screaming hospital
in the grass of a carpet
nothing to do with it
a concept, an idea
a drunken slur
misplaced affection
a hand, a breast, a mouth
in a car, a bed, a bathroom
elaborate play
that's all
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
Welcome to our society
Where we live in anxiety
They will judge you for being drunk
And some will for your sobriety
The lowlifes that inhibit it
Come in all varieties
They divide you in the name of religion
To pray the same deity
So I welcome you all to our society
Where we live in anxiety
May 22, 2019
May 22, 2019 at 9:41 PM UTC
=================================================
When you smile with your heart
Your blood flush your cheek red
Do not allow any inhibitor
To inhibit your easy life flow bed
Better adaptation to the constant change
Which brings heaven and earth under our head
Pretty dear ! My Universe Beauty ! Never wonder
Where your cosmic eternal secret lies
If the life on earth is temporary dew drop
Let your rainbow fragrance dissolve in the sky
But you are here with divine abundance
To freely hold, embrace and fully open
To receive your heat beats in radiance
How much blessed you are my beloved
To discover each potential new day
To have living sensitive opportunity
To watch warm sunrise together
And to fall in love with you in moonlit night
Without any pride, prejudice , and illusion
Without any pain, insult , and confusion
Written by
~~~Jawahar Gupta~~~
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 3:24 AM UTC
We are taught that we inhibit a sphere
Earth is a triangle, that is a point I would like to clear
Triple 6s attached with zeros govern the prism's corners
Infiltrating the angles we base our views on, they program us
Masters to butlers, the barcodes on our foreheads put a price on us
Never the less, Try an angle
I bet they'll confess, we are equal
Amongst other 'triangle' stories, I'd like to tell my own
Of a man's soul with a triangle embedded,chiseled like statue stone
I see that soul within us all
Culminating to reach apex by parallel lines that can let you slip and fall
And with every fall the try angle's base stretches and widens
I remember looking at a perspective drawing titled 'Life is a journey'
Shaped like a triangle was the everyday boulevard traveled by many
At the start of life, objects were big, bright and colourful
Far into life, objects become small, dull but meaningful
Never the less, a triangle has 3 sides to it
Listen! My stanzas confess and guarantee to it.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 5:54 AM UTC
By A Former Student For The Student
See that this program is designed to encompass most aspects of students lives, this means that you’re the most important variable in this equation; without you, the student, there is no SUCCESS. Treat your teachers with respect and you can expect that they’ll do everything within their ability to help you in anyway they can, whether it be with your school work and path to success, or just simply having a friend to confide in. Everything you need to be successful is within your reach here.
Understand whatever your past or current circumstances, there is nothing holding you back from doing what you want with your life. Bad experiences may or may not have come your way, you’ve probably made some mistakes, just know that these things don’t have to impact your life in a negative manner or inhibit your success. You are the past, present, and most importantly, the future. The goal here is to see to it that you do something amazing with that future.
Care about being a part of SUCCESS and how others perceive you as a SUCCESS student. When you leave this building and venture out into the world, you are a representation of the program. Your actions directly reflect not only yourself, but the people that make this mission possible. Show them that you appreciate the privilege of being a part of such a worthy cause. Be proud to be in SUCCESS.
Courtesy is a must; confrontation is a bust. If you have a confrontation with one of your peers or a faculty member, be courteous and solve it without a physical or verbal altercation. There has never been a fight within these walls, so we would greatly appreciate that it remains that way. It’s simple, treat others the way you want to be treated.
Empathize with your classmates and understand that some of them may be having problems at home or school. Take it upon yourself to see if you can possibly help in any way. Be that person that could make a difference in someone’s life by simply being kind. You’ll always be a stranger until you introduce yourself.
Service is a significant part of being in SUCCESS. This is a way for you to give back to your community, practice selflessness as well as work to benefit children that need your help. Be a role model to these kids, instill in them the realization of the importance of education. Don’t ever let them settle for less than they’re worth, everyone has something special they can bring to the table, some people just need a little positive encouragement to unveil it.
Seniors, lead the way. Set the bar, as well as an example for the underclassmen. You foster more of an impact than you could ever imagine. If you’re reading this, the best advice I can give is to make the most of the time you have left; leave behind a legacy that you’ll be proud of in the future and one in which others will strive to follow. Take what you’ve learned from the SUCCESS experience and apply it. You will always remember being a part of SUCCESS.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 5:06 AM UTC
My gut
is a gaping hole
where the pieces
simply fall through its emptiness.
My heart
is a pounding piece of flesh
where the pulse
creates a frantic scratch,
like the nails on a schoolboard.
My head
is a messy forest
where the branches
inhibit visitors
to pass and explore
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 4:52 AM UTC
I wonder why sometimes
Struggle to find some time
To categorize my mind inside
Petty thoughts inhibit my strides sometimes
Slow down my progress
Eliminate my conscious
And deny my success
Making it hard to thrive in time
Consumed by bitter demons
Construed to inner treason
Conflicting with simple freedom
Yet I still wonder why sometimes
But triumph derives from conquering how
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 1:22 AM UTC
I can do it,
I swear I can,
trust me please,
I have a plan.
But if you continue to inhibit my heart,
then I will find it hard to start,
because I am like a child,
one who has hopes and dreams,
you cannot have me reviled,
or you will tear me apart by my seams.
Instead you must support me,
and tell me I can,
even when you do not agree,
you must see me become a man.
For I will grow and become stronger,
like a vine around a tree,
I will continue until I can no longer,
and then I will be free.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 3:55 PM UTC
Within the realm of unplayed instrumentation
a crescendo of specific notes are lost
dangling on high maple branches during autumn leaf change
and only divots below the mowed through grassy soil
throughout segregated quarantine reserves
partitions of divorced land
In the bottom of a child’s backpack
so heart jarring and singularly dedicated to the wandering dreamer harboring any thoughts of doubt about what is and what might inhibit the coming up next
covering over wooden plank necks with strings of primitive notation drafted inside the woods create,
rows of ivory keys and ebony flats,
this includes either screeching or murmuring brass buttons can make
And depending on the blow
Lead based letters
Squeezed together grammar and prose
have no window to grandstand
in a duel verses this one climb of instrumental verse
these missing tones are in tangible reaches
could even be in a soft mother’s dream waiting to be awoken to bring an awakening
Who will seek and find this group of lost tones with striking nuances so spirit soothing
that seeing the mere future is old news
but instilling, feeling, and describing the true meaning of life after hearing what is under, inside and above this crest of colored resonance of tonal pitch...
Or maybe it can insight a minor confidence in the one who lacks it to take that small step forward
Ensuring another step
This is one who will hear this
Jun 19, 2019
Jun 19, 2019 at 11:46 PM UTC
The year is going. It must leave. Let it go and bring in the new. There's no way to stop time, no amount of human effort that can accomplish the impossible. So we must go with time's instructive hands to move forward. Otherwise, we would only inhibit ourselves in the fruitless process. We would be robbed of the gift of the here and now, and never look upon the horizon for a prospect of our future.
In the year, some of us lost loved ones. Those memories can always remain, for neither time nor decay can deny us their gift. Perhaps, the year was good, and it is a great time to reflect at this point. Perhaps, it was riddled with regrets. Learn from those things and forgive yourselves. Grudges that have festered need to be cleansed from our conscious efforts, as cancer is removed from one who is getting a second chance at life.
I talk of this from experience.
New Year's resolutions can seem like frivolous or empty promises. That is why many give little credence to them. But to rethink one's life path is the right idea, and I say that we don't need to put up a new calendar to do this. Any time is the right time for that, whether it be January or December--or anytime in between.
The year is going. It is fading away soon, into its proper place in history. Bid it farewell, for it had its run, but it must make way for its youthful, less-experienced replacement. Look upon in it with hope and perseverance.
Goodbye 2013
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 7:49 PM UTC
"what's that? you can't get out of your bed?
too weak to be alive, too lazy to be dead?
well! take your zoloft effectively
just inhibit reuptake selectively
and soon you'll have the energy
to end your life impulsively
or be rid of feelings entirely
a chipper, cheery half-zombie"
"your panicking fits interfere with your day?
i'll lay out a feast, a benzo-buffet
ativan, klonopin, xanax oh my!
not just for those who are too scared to fly!
pop two and kiss all of your worries goodbye
and your memory, too, if you come to rely
on hours spent watching your life pass by
just try and object through that stubborn tongue-tie"
"your circadian rhythm is not quite right
you're asleep with the sun and awake in the night
so take one of these twice before closing your eyes
and wait for the dreams that will doubtless arise
too vivid and real to know truth from lies
and the nightmares will be an unpleasant surprise
but stopping abruptly is duly unwise
so just find your stars in trazodone skies"
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 2:44 PM UTC
We are not entitled to exciting things.
Neither sunrise, nor sunset waits for any human hand.
It simply is, and you must be there to capture it, if you want, and you can.
Lest you complain, that you have been given a lesser chance than another man.
To live your life without the sleep you need, and sacrifice your hands and feet.
In pursuit of something far short of eternity.
I call that a distraction.
On your game again, you cannot help but play again.
Obsession mixed with practice, is but a single means of expressing passion.
Which may or may not be, for you, a form of extraction.
Pulling yourself from the reality of a dissatisfactory life.
Softening the blow to take, and heading down the wrong direction.
Time and time again, for goodness sake….
This life, this journey, will always be full of such mistakes.
But to let your doubts drive you away,
To let your fear of the unknown, leech the very passion of your life away,
By means of distraction.
That my friends, is a failure of action.
A surrender to the reaction of taking a check, and spending your small fraction.
When every day, you’d grow in spirit, if you'd only renegade with your your passion.
Staggering home after half a day, while trying simply to escape, the prior day's’ inability and inaction.
But I digress. Remember this.
We are not entitled to live exciting lives of interaction.
We must first create and encourage, not inhibit,
The excitement within others,
Which motivates them towards their own action.
This my friends, is the very nature of passion.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 5:34 PM UTC
The gaping space, witch
could and should
loiter inhabited
by scaly, flaky, soft, smooth, oily, dry, tender
to wit homogenous,
sits idly occupied
by The Plastic Distractants.
The Plastic Distractants
inhibit that sense of calm
heeded by bona fide eye contakt
brushing flake to flake (in a)
pheremonal pow wow.
It is one thing
to have one thing
it is another thing
to have many things.
While the world shreds
and slivers
clostrophobically choking
for breathing space
we pose underground with the sun.
Remember what it means
to look someone in the eye
with meaning in the stare.
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 11:51 AM UTC
I was made to believe I could always improve.
Of course I assumed that meant others could, too.
Because why would we want to remain stagnant?
We live each day like fragments we hope will attract like magnets
And piece into the picture-perfect paradox we call life.
We are driven by this horribly humane curiosity
Accelerating to increasing velocities,
Until we inhibit our ability to realize when enough is enough
Lost in the instilled thoughts that manipulate our emotions with their bluff,
That we should never settle.
But never say never.
As cliches turn into ever-present moments,
We learn that striving is only a component of who we are.
Because if we keep chasing a limit that keeps rising
We’re only chastising a perfectly acceptable being.
Like a cigarette pressed against wrinkled lips,
This vague mantra is a hidden temporary fix.
One that ignites so easily and makes sense to the brain
But never quite knows when to seize it’s reign.
Because no parent has ever told their child when to stop trying.
We fall under control of our own mentalities trying to push us further.
But when can we put the pressure on the back burner?
And try to accept who we are
Before we accidentally discard
A perfectly adequate being.
Sometimes a friendly reminder to advance is taken out of hand.
But my hands have been fidgeting with rings until I brand their bands with indents.
Ones that burn through my skin and leave the memories of closed fists.
The fear of loving where we are or who we’re with should not exist.
For when you’ve exhausted all your happiness and have wilted to your last petal,
I will be flourishing still, for I have learned to settle.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC