"injunction" poems
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Got no time to chat
White canvas
Endless pixels
A sight for sore eyes
Fruitlessly searching
Social media
For an elusive prize
Scandal
Gossip
Salacious juice
Lines between
Real and fantasy
Reach a truce
Inbox injunction
Endless mail
I want to call it a day
They’ve got some nerve;
‘Be more sociable,’ they say
In cyber space
There’s an infinite world of possibilities
Save for when
We’re face to face
Travelling along
The endless lines
Towards an unknown destination
Lost in ourselves,
We killed the art of conversation
Look at the posts
They’re neverending;
Babies, kittens
See what’s trending
Feeling smitten?
Oh look at all those words,
I haven’t written…
Don’t mind me
I’m just scrolling through.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 3:59 PM UTC
They tried so hard to banish me
To eternal non-entity;
They resented my voice
They denied me a choice;
I had to be the type of soul
Adhering to their own goals.
The don’t care what we suffer
They speechify and don’t stutter.
They haven’t been secretive
About the way they’d have me live.
They bellow and bawl their mind
And little of it is anything kind.
They have no obvious compunction
Behind their every injunction.
They point and label me something odd,
Invoke a two thousand year-old god.
They drape themselves in our flag
And shout names like queer and ***
And tell us we are abominations
Not fit to live in Christian nations
But they forget that we all free
To choose what our religion will be.
In truth, they do not seem to care
About anyone’s opinion but theirs.
The hardest thing of all to bear
Is for all the venom they share
Is that this country has rules
That they ignore by being fools.
They want the right to tell us all
Who we can bring with us to the ball
And who we can love or marry.
What a heinous load for us to carry.
There may be nothing quite as egregious
As a congressman all sanctimonious
Who tells us we must not disparage
The sanctity of heterosexual marriage
Whether is his bride number three or four
That’s exactly what the Christianity is for
Because didn’t Jesus himself say
He didn’t want no homos today?
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 9:12 PM UTC
##
*Words chosen, how am I?
thousands of injunction, I missed
thousands of conjunction, I lost
laying on a white plain paper
making so many words,
penning a few lost to be hold,
taking so much pain for peace
those jingling on lips,
try to make a new ode for my love
##
@Musfiq us shaleheen*
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
Wipe that teardrop from your cheek
Smooth the worries from your brow,
Go buy yourself that pretty frock
'Cos the Court Injunction's come through now.
All the hassle, all the fight
Evaporates and that's a fact.....
He gets to toss and turn tonight
For you're the cream that got the cat!
You turned it all around my pretty lady,
You saved the savage beating for the end.
You played a little ploy that emulated joy
But in fact it was a trap to make him bend.
And bend he did, my pretty, Oh how he did bend,
When the object of the exercise was clear,
He exposed his top ace card with unfortunate disregard
To resultant amputation's near and dear.
Now I'm not saying you are cruel little lady
I'm not saying you are anything but fair,
But the savageness of swipe does seem just a little trite
For he no longer brags about, what isn't there.
Moral of the story is simple, sweet and true
It's as plain as the nose upon your face,
If you're going to play about keep your trouser firmly out
Of the razor swiping range of lady space.
*As a poem this reads terribly...but it was an absolute giggle to create!
M.*
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC
Part of the pleasure
lies in the silent
treatment:
The sinful thing is the thing
prohibited is the injunction
to talk about the thing that
should not be talked about
The discourse that most becomes
a silence is the authoritative kind,
in the way that a child's authoritative
cry lies in an ability to shut it up
A child cries and you
pick it up like a book and
set it down like a book
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 11:55 PM UTC
Food Prices On The Rise
Value of the dollar declines
Inflation
People have a problem paying for their cars
The same thing with real estate
Different programs
Continually pump up the bubble
Equity firms are lending to landlords
More and more people brought into the market
These securitized investments will be worth absolutely nothing
These speculators will lose everything
When the market collapses
Push the loans out there
Pump up the real estate market
This is what these equity firms are doing
Don't worry
The central bakers protected themselves
They have the FDIC covering, the derivatives market
When the system collapses
They can take the money from the banks
To cover their losses
They will give you worthless paper back
Obama is letting in illegals
100,000 illegals legalized before the injunction
Many of them got their work permit
After the injunction
Breaking Texas state law
The lender of last resort--The Federal Reserve
The spender of last resort--The Govermnet
The dollar will completely collapse
It is only a matter of time
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 12:54 PM UTC
the country isn't poor at all:
the wealth is just hoarded
and goes rotten, and skeletons of industry rust.
the cities are littered with bodies with suits and ties
stepping over them. dangerous speculation leaves behind another gutted home.
the country isn't poor at all:
the wealth is just hoarded
and goes rotten, and skeletons of industry rust.
in all of history, never has the world been richer, never
have individuals been richer, and communities never so barren.
the country isn't poor at all:
the wealth is just hoarded
and goes rotten.
children cry up from the depth of debt for bread and help and shelter
met either with the ideologue's injunction "AUSTERITY."
or deaf ears and tax-payers money
invested in guns and bombs sent abroad, and rhetoric behind the barbed fences of our shores, and the tools for plundering all the people and every corner and resource of the earth and the as yet still fluid future: the tools to cement our early doom.
all that is wretched is integral to the structure:
it is what the system stands on, everything it crushes,
squeezing out the life and stealing it;
we must come to understand this, and step back.
we'll have to face—or be forced to—collapse.
the country isn't poor at all:
the wealth is just hoarded
and people are forsaken, starved, blown up, drowned, deprived of voice and value;
profits are made. life comes at a price, too much for most.
the country isn't poor at all:
the wealth travelled north - taken - into open arms,
those brave, desperate souls in flight who followed
were handed - abandoned - to the waves or absolute destitution.
the country isn't poor at all:
the wealth is just hoarded—
"SAVE THE BANKS, SAVE THE COMPANIES, THEY'RE TOO BIG
TO SINK"—they're titanic—"THERE'S NO TIME TO BE DEMOCRATIC—IT'S A STATE OF EMERGENCY—THEY CANNOT FAIL."
the country isn't poor at all:
the wealth is just hoarded,
hundreds of thousands of houses are empty
and skeletons of industry rust.
the country isn't poor at all:
the wealth is just hoarded,
and so the world goes rotten.
justice will take more than just good deeds:
open the borders and break down the walls!
set no destinations at which to arrive, but towards horizons strive;
we need not firewood, but the seed:
make union and defiance your call!
open the borders and break down the walls!
produce and allocate according to need
and there shall be enough—for us all!
(and i might add: please,
forgive me my youth and naivety...
but i am no believer in the Fall.)
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC
He lurks inside, he does, or maybe he's a she
I'm not sure, only that he is out to destroy me
At every chance he gets, especially when I'm stressed or tired
he takes out his special steely barbs and spires
and into my organs he jabs and cuts
every aspect of my life, he says it *****
I bleed internally, the lashing goes on and on
It's like listening to some bad grating song
turned up way to loud, played way too long
sung by an evil diva/master death metal punk it doesn't matter
the only goal is my destruction, to take me out is its injunction
and the parasitic quality of him, as he lives inside
makes it worse, he is a part of me, no lie
he makes me hate myself and want to die
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
All the stars in the sky are not wanted,
the injunction refuses that ending.
Follow forever, remain undaunted
and your heart very soon will need mending.
The sequence will be always ascending,
though a conclusion is constantly sought.
Patterns in one who is ever-pretending
endure unto the moment she is caught.
Plans of pursuit and that 'hunt-the-doe' plot
will motivate a determinant run.
With efforts that will be spent all for naught,
and so that cowardly deer, she has won.
Whoso shall enlist to hunt this one yet?
Not death she fears, but the life of a pet.
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC
Were you well as sunlight's ascendancy left darkening footnotes everywhere?
Their cerebral pitch and polish--
non compos mentis, were you well?
Stalactited as Nostrefaru's leaking enamel...emergent, crooked shape of a shifting focal point overspread to no more of itself.
Your sun hissed as it plumbed its depth...covert feelers circumscribed the injunction of tongue caught at speak, bifurcated and serpentine.
Wherefrom runnels of india ink ran, corresponded with stones to their haphazard period, numb with duplication...broken down nervously.
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 1:27 PM UTC
How are you feeling?
A simple enough query
The answer more complicated
An inconclusive theory
Because how can I feel?
When I negated this function
Through fear of my thoughts and a chemical injunction
The answer is 'flat'
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC
With 2G phone in hand
No sign of a ring-light stand
The un-influencer comes to the table
He doesn't tweet when people die
Says negative things that will make you cry
Gets stuck when logging in
Wears holes in his clothes that really should be in a bin
Writes bad poetry that nobody reads
Writes bad blogs that would make your eyes bleed
States the obvious when asked
Laughs and then makes you gasp
Doesn't check his look before zooming
Doesn't check his volume, it's booming
To be avoided at social functions
Should be served with a court injunction
May 1, 2022
May 1, 2022 at 12:39 PM UTC
a whole sky to be turned to ash in my lifetime
whence no phoenix of our kind rises:
beetles, bacteria and capitalism proved immortal.
the train approaches the precipice; the closer
to the engine, the more comfortable and powerful the passengers.
children cry up from the depths of debt for bread and help and shelter
met either with the ideologue's injunction "austerity!"
or deaf ears and money
invested in guns, bombs and rhetoric.
a whole body to decay and to bloom,
to stray through the fields and into the tomb,
with hands
to give shape to screaming heard only in the shadows of my eyes
to trace out the grand design of my doom
to articulate on pages my sense of suspension in dread
to caress another body and forget it all in our ecstasy
or perhaps to lend freely, so as to build sandcastle-utopias
together, on the shores of the blood-red sea of history
by the monotonous waves and the sorrowful, joyful,
invisible, indifferent, post-anthroposcenic tide approaching.
a whole body to be wasted or used,
to be thrown into the fray or a figure of privilege abused:
an opportunity, or a catastrophe.
we must chose, we must chose.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
Romeo oh Romeo, he is nowhere to be seen
He sent a woman flowers and got an injunction for two years
He asked a girl at work out and promptly got the sack
She then got promoted after saying he touched her ***
But Juliet now 50 can't get a steady man
No ****** trusts her as she's played with all of them
Chivalry isn't dead, not knights of old
The armour isn't worth it and the white horse has been sold.
So keep showing all that anger and screeming "I'm oppressed!"
Then wonder why you're alone each night as you undress.
Not all men are ******** and not all women mad
Some have survived hell and are worthy of a chance.
So look around your world and try to understand that the next person to like you wasn't the **** that let you down.
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 9:25 PM UTC
Your daydreams
were my first drug
long before the bottle.
Even now, you ******
with fantasies of revenge,
the perfect woman,
world peace.
Is there an “I” without you?
Are you even “mine”?
You seem to believe
you could survive without me,
that you are immortal, omniscient.
Sometimes you are a friend,
more often an enemy,
like an abusive spouse
I cannot leave.
Master and slave,
liar and prophet,
giving with one hand
stealing my life with the other.
The lies you tell
about what others think
are the worst.
You con me into believing
your story is true.
Occasionally I catch you
at what you are doing.
I shine a light on you,
and you disappear.
You’re nowhere and everywhere,
I hear your laughter,
mocking the oracle’s injunction
to “know thyself.”
Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 11:18 AM UTC