"insist" poems
An urge too strong to resist.
Once enticed.
Can't resist.
Go ahead and try to;
I insist.
End up.
Face up.
Go ogling; ***** so you can read **** **** like this.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 9:21 AM UTC
*I woke up this morning and my name flashed on T.V.
They said i blew up places , they said i killed masses .
Men , women & children I murdered them all.
Who am I ?
I am a muslim and i am taking this fall.
They used my name and spread the terror.
I am not them , it surely is an error.
We, muslims, are the holders of peace , we spread love.
Why am I being represented by their false actions.
I am a person, with different notions.
World will now brand me a terrorist.
Don't judge me by their actions , I insist.
I am not them, they pilfered my name.
They inflicted libel , and my religion to defame .
I have been robbed , robbed of my name.
I am a muslim , human like you , all the same.
My name has been robbed , my identity stolen
I deprecate the terror and mourn for fallen.
There are millions like me and humanity lies in our depths.
But we are all victims of Identity Theft* ...............
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
Falling in love with someone who is bipolar will never be easy.
There will be minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months where I'm unexplainably mean, or recklessly happy.
For a period of time, I may be all over you and want to smother you in my aforementioned reckless happiness, that I will forget to ask how you're doing and if you ate anything today. I will forget that unlike me, you need to sleep for 9 hours a day and that you're not fully ready to take on the world.
At some point, I will take a turn for the worst and will mope in unbelievable sorrow due to the death of my false happiness.
I will cry about everything and will stop calling, and forget to remind you that I love you so much and just need some time away.
My deep sadness will soon turn into unrelenting anger and I will tell you abusive things that I don't really mean.
I will be confused as to why I say them, and apologize a million times and try to explain that I can't control my anger, and that I need to leave and be away from people for a while, although I know nothing will really help.
You will insist that it's okay and tell me you love me.
For days, weeks, or months, I will do this, and you will soon think I am lying and think that I am just genuinely terrible.
My constant apologies will become nothing and you will soon distance yourself and start falling out of love, but still have a glimmer of hope.
After this episode, I will have a period where I feel nothing and am almost robot-like. You will feel unwanted and unloved and look at me with such sad eyes and get nothing but a shrug and a half-assed "sorry."
When you finally walk away, I will have more bad days than good days because I will regret not saying I love you more.
I will hate myself for being bipolar. I will fall back into my bad habits and soon you will be a distant memory.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
Overnight, very
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly
Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.
Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room.
Soft fists insist on
Heaving the needles,
The leafy bedding,
Even the paving.
Our hammers, our rams,
Earless and eyeless,
Perfectly voiceless,
Widen the crannies,
Shoulder through holes. We
Diet on water,
On crumbs of shadow,
Bland-mannered, asking
Little or nothing.
So many of us!
So many of us!
We are shelves, we are
Tables, we are meek,
We are edible,
Nudgers and shovers
In spite of ourselves.
Our kind multiplies:
We shall by morning
Inherit the earth.
Our foot's in the door.
20.5k
Why do people insist in the use of figurative language
I am not as blue as the sky (simile)
This sadness is not swallowing me whole (hyperbole)
My tears are not carving new paths down the skin covering my cheeks (imagery)
The frown I wear is not eating the happiness off my face (personification)
This feeling is not a storm that won’t subside (metaphor)
I am not softly shaking so someone stops to shush my sobs (alliteration)
You can’t hear the smashing of tears on the table (onomatopoeia)
There is no way to make this pain sound beautiful
I am sad, plain and simple.
Deal with it.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
On a journey down to nowhere
I have realized many things.
Dwelling on the subject; friendship
And what once a stranger said to me
“You’re not a no-man
Neither am I”
He continued with a sigh.
The stranger gazed high above the tree tops
We heard the sirens of the cops
As little raindrops gently landed on our faces.
There were no traces of violence just serenity.
“You can feel and so can I
We could perish in a blink of an eye.
We can withstand the strongest storm
Yet we are torn from a cunning plan.
We are strong when we’re united yet
How weak we are alone.
Then why do we insist to consist in groups
Exclusion is not the solution to our society
The variety of us is overwhelming
Compelling us to accept
So why do we resist?”
He preached
Continued to persist for his message was vital.
Accept and you will be accepted, you will be loved, free.
On a journey down to nowhere
I have realized…
Unity is vital.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 7:55 PM UTC
Sweetly loving on my lips, swooning when you grab my hips
Sweet as honey with every sip, causing my intoxication
To bite your lip, and grin at me, drowning me deeper in serenity
Your lovely tongue, oh my, a heatwave to my mind
You've awestruck me with many waves of this pleasure
Strong enough to send the innocent into whiplash
You handsome brute, taking everything else out of my sight
My legs turn to jelly when you hold me so tightly, I've lost this fight
Causing waves of commotion a force of ***** insanity forming
Let my melody drug you, Our experience won't be boring
As my seductive lips craft your every moan, calling me, echoing
Your eyes fall back and you'll fall into a rippling sensation of bliss
All along I've been your gift
Making dreams come true in just the simplicity of a kiss
Sometimes love bites
But, you like that I insist
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 11:34 PM UTC
Your suffering is always greater than mine,
you claim your fears are bigger.
Whine your feelings are better than mine,
insist my feelings are simpler.
Try to laugh my feats away like a joke,
but my will is more forward than yours.
Now don’t expect any warmth from me,
my spirit won’t be ignored.
You think you can quiet my defiance?
But I'm used to standing alone.
Your ego trips never get old
they only harden my resolve.
So you timidly try and silence me,
then make excuses to escape.
‘Cause your wits won't handle me long,
I’m the one you can’t sedate.
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 9:54 PM UTC
I am Christian. I believe in the
Trinity of the Holy God, The Son, and The Spirit,
I believe that Jesus is the Son of God and the savior of mankind
I own more than three Bibles
I teach Sunday School every week and
I pray every night.
I am Christian,
And as such I
Hate queer....
Phobia. I can not stand intolerance
And I cry at hatred,
Blood running in the streets,
Fear running in veins,
Running away from the truth.
I am Christian, yet
There are bloodstains in my Bible
And the prayers on my lips
Are for forgiveness for who I am.
The entire story of ***** is
Crossed out, blacked out angrily
In the dead of night
In all 4 versions,
Leviticus is blurred,
Wrinkled with my tears,
Soaked with my pain.
I am Christian
And I am not homophobic.
I know my church won't recognize
Non cis-het marriages,
Leaving entire worlds of rainbows in the dark
The higher-ups insist
Weddings are white, shiny, husband-and-wife, happily-ever-after affairs
That shove me and my friends, my family, my lovers,
Into closets of heavenly wrath and
Fire and brimstone sermons,
Locked into personal hells of shame
And confusion.
I am Christian
And I am not straight.
My God doesn't hate me for who I love,
He loves me because I try not to hate.
So to the homophobic Christians, I ask:
Who is your God?
Who is your God that supposedly condemns people He has created in his own image?
Your rainbow picket signs are nothing but a cruel mockery of a covenant
Not truly shared by you.
Your tongues are no better than the viper's who called Adam and Eve to sin,
You are the vipers of my world.
Do you think you avoid judgement
When trans teens are killed
By the bullets you spit with your words?
Who is your God,
That tells you to picket the funerals
Of those you hate?
Who is your God,
That refuses to let you open your heart to differentness?
I am Christian,
And I don't need your permission to
Love my God.
Take my scars and tear-stained Bibles,
Listen to my fervent prayers,
Watch my lips tremble when
I listen to my pastor.
I don't need your permission
To love who I want,
In fact I don't want it.
Take my midnight screaming and fear of coming out,
Listen to my frantic pleading for a hand to hold,
Watch my eyes linger on her chest.
I am Christian.
My God doesn't hate me for who I love,
He hates you who refuse to love
While you carry His name, if
Not his blessing.
So I ask again
Who is your God?
Because mine loves all of me,
All 5'6" of queer pride.
Who is your God?
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC
Goodnight cruel world
Goodnight, goodnight
Sometimes I'd like it if we didn't fight
Maybe you could agree and we'd both be right
But since you insist on this endless plight
Goodnight cruel world
Goodnight, goodnight
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 9:08 PM UTC
I've fallen in love with a ghost, a man, an angel with crooked wings.
I've fallen in love with the way he speaks, every tick and twitch, the way he looks when he's anxious.
I want to preserve him in poems and picture books.
His soul bears the weight of every cigarette and tear he has shed.
Poor lonely ghost, why do you hide behind closed curtains and mountain man ****** hair?
Poor lonely ghost, no one can get close to you,
Only because you are too scared of getting hurt.
So instead, you hurt yourself because it's easier this way.
Poor lonely ghost, you live inside a cave, insist it's better being alone with your things and your heavy thoughts.
But the weight, it grows.
Poor soul, you were not built to hold the weight of a lonely mans world.
With all of his tears and broken hearts and anxieties and cigarettes and sad poetry.
Please take care of yourself, my lonely ghost.
And please try to open to curtains and watch the sunrise.
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 5:55 PM UTC
Maybe dad is right
Toxicity
It seems to be my enemy
And on a scale of healthy
I am not sure
Where this would be
You hurt me
But its okay
You're my best friend
The person I care about
More than anyone
That matters right?
I just want
For you
To be happy
And not hateful
Yet you insist
On being a ****
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 9:33 PM UTC
any wrong you want done right
the long way...
unforgettable things
you write down
just in case ?
then you know everything about me.
not a thing. not a clue. what i'd do
for a glimpse
of a page.
that's what you like
that's your kick
won't you be mine
all mine
by page
six
?
It's Elementary My Dear, Hostage.
It is What It Is.
any wrong you want done right
all day
won't you bring me 'The List'
like a bad
little
girl ?
and won't you insist ?
my good
little
angel ?
won't you fall ? Again ?
but This time
only inches ?
And your answer
same as before
"Elementary my Dear, Hostage"
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 2:15 PM UTC
I was born on November 30th , I hear that makes me a Saggitarius.
I dunno what that means.
I know how to swim, and I'm a sucker for a guy with a nice smile
And nice words.
I'm still learning how to whisper sweet nothings
I'm often loud at times when I should be quiet
I'm often quiet at times when I should be loud
I keep holding back or letting it all out at the wrong time.
I like sweet drinks... a lot.
I've been told that I give pretty bad hugs
People say that it feels like I'm trying to escape
Well I don't like letting people close.
Especially close enough to hear me breathe.
I have this odd fascination with things like time machines and technology,
I assume it's because I like to figure out how things work and fix them.
Am the same way with people, like to know what's coming before it does.
Love usually lasts a few moments,
That's also why I tend to fall in love with men
Who would never love me back
I know it sounds crazy, but it's actually much saner than it seems
And to be honest, I think it's safer that way
See relationships, they often remind me that I'm not afraid of letting go.
But I'm scared of what's gonna happen
The moment that my body hits the ground
I'm clumsy. I usually trip when am following my feelings.
I landed on my pride and it shattered like a mirror i check daily.
Now I can't even tell who's trying to give me a compliment
or just trying to get into my pants.
I've never been into martial arts but I have all these bruises,
I got from beating myself up over things I can't fix
I know it sounds weird but sometimes,
I wonder what the voices in my head say when am asleep.
I wonder what the doors would do if they found out
About all the things that I've done when they are closed.
I've got a trash can that's overflowing with really, really obnoxious mistakes
And a dump site in my closet with all the skeletons.
You'll trap me in a corner and insist I get help.
Hi, my name is Em,
I enjoy ice cream and yoghurt, people watching
And figuring out how to make them work.
I allow myself to cry more than I need to,
from letting all the wrong people in.
I have solar-powered energy, I have a battery-operated heart,
It flickers and dies from overuse.
My hobbies include rewriting my life story, hiding behind poems,
And trying to convince myself that I do matter to someone.
I don't know much, but I do know this
I know that if you don't have standards,
you won't be treated right and be happy.
I know God is still reworking my faults and flaws,
I'm a unique work in progress.
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 6:15 AM UTC
When someone praises me
I'm like a deer
under headlights
Of course I'm delighted
beaming,
even
But I really don't know-
how to respond
...
Do I brush it off?
Act like it's
not a big deal
whether or not
it really is
And move on
to another
subject?
...
Do I just stay quiet
Look down shyly,
and smile?
Or just let the conversation
pass me by?
...
Do I adamantly
reject it?
Refuse, and insist
to the point
that the person
before me
ends up
fighting with me
about
it?
...
Do I roll with it,
faking non-existent
confidence?
Owning up to it,
sometimes
in a joking manner?
...
Do I immediately
switch the topic
to praising
the one
who praised me?
Or have them talk
about themselves
to turn
the
attention from me?
...
Or, do I just smile
large and wide
and thank
the person?
...
I don't know
and it irritates me
that I can even have trouble
with something
as lovely
as a compliment
...
It's not
negative
hurtful
or even
a criticism
...
So why does it
bother me?
...
Maybe
...
I care too much
about what others
think of
me
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 9:15 PM UTC
Why do we make mistakes?
As humans, we're going to make mistakes.
It's what makes us human, and most of the time, the most effective way of learning is from a mistakes.
We don't just make mistakes because we want.
Through mistakes we progress in life,
Through mistakes we evolve as humans.
Through mistakes we become better at things.
People did mistakes before us.
We are doing the mistakes after them.
And there are those who will do the mistakes after us.
Mistakes gives us good chances to have experiences in life,
Without mistakes we have no experience in life,
And without experience we have no lessons in life.
Experience is the best teacher
And mistakes offers good lessons.
We learn from our mistakes.
All humans make mistakes.
What determines a person's character aren't the mistakes we make.
It's how we take those mistakes and turn them into lessons rather than excuses.
Mistakes determine how strong we are,
If you accept the mistake that you just did,and learn from it,
You are a strong creature.
If you don't accept and insist in doing the mistakes more and more you are going nowhere.
© INFINITE INK.
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 11:34 PM UTC
What a simple and plain day.
A cloudy day.
Hoping my pain will go away.
Wishing on the plane, up away.
~
Gazing and wondering.
Watching the kites hovering.
As the clouds are moving
A smile on my face is forming.
~
How wonderful it is,
To live a life like this.
The pain didn't exist.
In this dream that I insist.
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 8:38 AM UTC
Come,
have a seat here
Join my picnic
by the hills of despair
Watch the gentle waves of tragedy
slowly
silently
roll onto the sea of tranquility
Would you like a cup of sadness?
you can add a spoonful of hope
that might carry all that bitterness
down the slippery slope
Or would you rather a sip of ignorance
this time hope
you should cheat
Pass along the seasoning of confidence
which is just as saccharine sweet
May I offer you a plate of loneliness?
But make sure to drown that in time
’cause we all know that time can heal
everything, oh yes how divine!
If you find loneliness becoming tasteless
Here, try some soft-baked sarcasm
infused with aged enthusiasm
with a heavy dose of doubt
If the flavour isn’t enough
than try a new diversion
maybe a pinch of hostility
or a light dressing of suspicion?
Whichever you prefer
you better make your decision
When you really need a change
try some passive aggressive conceit
then add fate into the mix
Of course!
We know how it tends to dismiss
the pungent smell of amusement
the fragrant taste of love
Oh how
it reminds you of innocence
or even the lack thereof
Do you really have to go?
Please do join me again
this solitary life gets tedious So
promise me you’ll come visit when
you need someone to wake you
from the beautiful lies they spin
when they almost seem to convince you
that's when you’ll come again
I insist.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 2:26 AM UTC
Warning:
The seagull flying over the Appalachians
could not possibly be amused by the
puzzles of an illegitimate composer
and the skyscrapers climbed.
1.
The skyscrapers were played by tall
rocks a girl climbed when she couldn't
remember if the cape she wore was
made from steel or newspaper.
11.
The newspaper they all read together
that morning (girl, boy, king, etc)
promised nothing but a fifty percent
chance of dandelions terrorizing the bus stop.
2.
The bus stop had since become a
dealer corner and the sunset behind
the mountains was blocked by the
flipping hair of a lost boy.
7.
The boy bought a toy for cheap -- it had
a built-in laser, so she stole it to blast a
whole hole in that guilt-ridden quilt hung
over the four dollar love seat.
6.
The love seat, she bought the day he went
to maple -- the soap dispenser was broken,
but she couldn't find anything new (that she
knew) to wash her hands with.
5.
The hands that handed her a hammer were covered
in promotions, so she stole the motorcycle when
they were watching the scarecrow going
through electric-shock, disco therapy.
8.
The therapy that she received from the
parrot-king and his troupe of square roots
was enough to make her not forget not regret
the boy with feathers in his ears.
10.
The ears she woke up with one morning
were different in shape than before
and the black fur she knew
was growing before her eyes.
3.
The eyes of the boy were wider than
the nightly news station promised, and
there wasn't really a difference
between caves and boxes in a town that small.
4.
The town she arrived in didn't have
a carpool lane or derby, so
she had to take her pet goldfish
to the river for his depressive state.
9.
The river wasn't as flooded after a couple
weeks of changing the tune on the jukebox
she found way before the departure
of her white gold pearls.
12.
The pearls she wore for her
coming-of-age were buried beneath
a dirt mound when she promised herself
to always insist on herself.
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 10:49 AM UTC
*I want to run with you
On the roof of the world
Through a misty forest
To break through
And at dawn wake up the deers.
I want to dry up your tears
When you are sad
I want to convince you
To give up your fears
And to tell you that
Never, never I've been mad
Or angry at you.
I want us to look in the same direction
And to have a common horizon.
I want to walk next to you
For a while, if life allows,
My heart melting your arrows.
Now I want to tell you
That if for you this is a burden,
You can, all of a sudden,
Tell me to stop these public wish lists
And, promised,
I will not insist.*
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
I write my pretty poetry
and I beg to know of thee
what you see
and what you want to be
what makes you flee
and what makes you free
how often do you plea
do you like a bee
or am I irritating thee
with my random personality
I'm sorry but that's my gravity
I don't need you I have my sanity
I call it sanity and you call it insanity
like I asked you who to be
I'd rather follow my fae
It seems to me
you lack the imaginary
and that I cling to the extraordinary
I mean who likes ordinary
I pick extraordinary
One more time
Extraordinary
My mind is endless
I act kind of senseless
Oh I see breakfast
here comes my fist
if you insist
I can't resist
Am I dismissed
I know there is something I've missed
the crazy insists
I can't resist
The malevolence
in your intelligence
I don't know where I thence
hence
I make no sense
This baby is crazy
But the God our lord made me
To be whoever I want to be
if you dream it you can achieve it
Believe it and you will see
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 4:07 PM UTC
Compliments to the baker
and so too my Barista
Smoothest crema on the tongue
juxtapose to lemon vapour.
Intense acute sensations
insist I close my eyes
Submit in rare humility
in awe of nature's true franchise.
Clarion note of citron zest
resounds on mellow creamy seas
Mediterranean sun distilled
now is witnessed here in me.
Tempered, rounded bitter hues
from Amazonian dark recess
waited aeons to infuse
and bring about this wanton bliss.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 9:59 AM UTC
Drip yourself into a cup
Fill up your body with antiquity
Let the collagen insist
An allegory of Capricorn
Memories crystallised
Settled in
Forevers harvest
Insensitive
Misconstrued chemical
Collective symmetry's sin
A condition, livid
Fleeting in Human imagery
Ships break
Loop our tongued
Hands, tossed in Dramamine
Whittled in a succession of malleable fashion
Talent spilled spread in supper
Collate our atrophy
And drink from baroness
Flavours tarnished
Super-collider
Blood soaked in Gematria
A garden of totality
High brow comparison
Entitled in your vacuous stigma
Forever burning
In the lesser key of Solomon
28 daemon
Tessellation in trigonometry
Temperance towards an infinite
Champion of mind, complex
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
I would rather be hysterical than vulnerable
to what most people call love.
I would rather couple with strange women
on an Amsterdam getaway
than let one more man
try to own me.
I prefer to ignore my own psychodynamics
in favor of endless talking cure analysis
and occasional astrology cult ******
that promise to speed my eventual evolution
from wounded *** object to invulnverable starchild.
I don’t need a Beverly Hills shrink
to tell me my narcissism and depression and squeaky voice
are symbolic of never having the power
to set a boundary between me and my father
who doted over my puberty
with slobbering praise and veiled lust.
Everyone who knows me for more than a week
sees my father throwing me financial bones
instead of apologizing for what he did
and the more I take his money
the freer I feel
distanced by automobiles with dark-tinted windows,
a house with a skull and crossbones doormat,
a silver .45 under my pillow
and not one single ex-boyfriend
about whom I will ever say a kind word.
I have created emotional and psychological invulnerability;
all men are now my father
and all men pay the price
of never being loved by me
and I pay the price of never being able to let them love me.
Now I just play with partners
and when they inevitably start to use the “L” word
I start to run inside
and I bounce off the walls and mirrors
of my own emptiness
and I go on a photo safari to Africa
where I pretend to understand the meaning of life
and I put out restraining orders
against the men who insist that I explain
and I have come to rely on legal and monetary fences
to protect me from
the truth about my deep loneliness.
I’ve never had an ******
never said I love you twice to the same person
and I think
as long as the money’s there
I won’t have to.
Aug 18, 2012
Aug 18, 2012 at 11:33 AM UTC