"intolerably" poems
Now this particular girl
During a ceremonious april walk
With her latest suitor
Found herself, of a sudden, intolerably struck
By the birds' irregular babel
And the leaves' litter.
By this tumult afflicted, she
Observed her lover's gestures unbalance the air,
His gait stray uneven
Through a rank wilderness of fern and flower;
She judged petals in disarray,
The whole season, sloven.
How she longed for winter then! --
Scrupulously austere in its order
Of white and black
Ice and rock; each sentiment within border,
And heart's frosty discipline
Exact as a snowflake.
But here -- a burgeoning
Unruly enough to pitch her five queenly wits
Into ****** motley --
A treason not to be borne; let idiots
Reel giddy in bedlam spring:
She withdrew neatly.
And round her house she set
Such a barricade of barb and check
Against mutinous weather
As no mere insurgent man could hope to break
With curse, fist, threat
Or love, either.
19.1k
Beneath that loved and celebrated breast,
silent, bored really blindly veined,
grieves, maybe lives and lets
live, passes bets,
something moving but invisibly,
and with what clamor why restrained
I cannot fathom even a ripple.
(See the thin flying of nine black hairs
four around one five the other ******
flying almost intolerably on your own breath.)
Equivocal, but what we have in common's bound to be there,
whatever we must own equivalents for,
something that maybe I could bargain with
and make a separate peace beneath
within if never with.
3k
Intolerably cruel I am
As I rip out your heart
And spit on your head
But you still beg for me
Asking me to spare
What once was ours
Except all I see
Is the pity I once felt
And the emotionless daze
I have came across
Spending time in your presence,
Numb
I look for an escape
Only to waste days
And feel what I once sought
I kiss you
And feel you craze
I am bitter
And vicious
Out for blood
But in reality
I am just confused
And a lonely soul
Wandering back the same turf
We once laid out
But
Savior I am not
Only just the devils advocate
Dancing in his flames
Trapped in anger
As revenge fills my veins
From your venomous bite
And your consistent negligence
To **** it dry
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
the arrogance
oh humankind
terror
fear
suffering
exponential death
we have brought
into this plane
a world
that may be no larger
than my eyes attest
oh humankind
our purposeful waste
dispensable products
people
populations
oh humankind
our sophistry of individuality
greed
power
war
genocide
in the fallacious name of
permanence
oh humankind
we cling to our objects
our love and hate
our righteous insecurities
we claim these as authentic
but we are little more than ghosts
inflicting a blink
a glimmer
of intolerably painful light
while we
these pathetic apparitions
stubborn and feeble
dissipate
into colorless purity
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
All this lifeless air created from migrated diverted array
Shot from wasted uneventful deep rooted motionless fatigue
Squeezed beneath a realm of misguided beliefs
Things mixed and shattered, confused mistaken repeats
Dug from a soul that never eats
All this lifeless air was created by total dismay
From thoughts that creep without light often in the calmest state
Shaking the essence of what purgatory seeks to infiltrate
With masks that always intolerably penetrate
The gateway to a subtle overactive mind grenade
It hits like a brick, it comes out of nowhere
Breathtakingly taking you into its mystical embrace
To another space in a place where nothing feels the same
Only discombobulation and facades of an erratic charade
Leaving your thoughts confused and in an melancholic state
Calmness in your spirit is a lantern burned from the light inside you
It seeps from your pours and glows intensely within your core
Unmasking horrific ramifications that you justified in the past
Leaving your mind free to disseminate thoughts that usually trespass
Recognizing feelings can be often obsolete
The lurking and self loathing of being stuck in between
a domain of migrated air and empathetic domains
Dragging your lifeless air into migrated array
Only erratic melancholy conceives and births total dismay
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
*Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots?
then may ye also do good, that are accustomed to do evil.*
Jeremiah 13:23
We’re tired of your feline past
predatory darkness cannot last
your claw and tooth, your fangs, your youth –
they get old fast.
Your sullen, incoherent style
has grown intolerably vile.
After the **** your prey is still
in pure denial.
Leopard-phantasms feed the flames;
the thing that spawned you whines and blames
although we could call Motherhood
by harsher names.
Jungle law enforcement should
stop crowning you with victimhood
erase your spots, connect the dots –
we wish you would.
Then lambs with lions shall rejoice
while lines with iambs raise their voice;
spotted pards play wiser cards.
(A better choice.)
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
Love is a craving
It's a desire that's already high from its complex high
Softly oozing and caressing parts of your emotions you never knew existed
Calming them, reassuring them with light and nectar so sweet it cripples you emotionally
Leaving you open to the darkness of life and its unimaginable pain
Love is a dangerous craving for untimely connection
An addiction controlled by the mouth of soulless self urges
Rooted from pain and the inability to understand direction
While trapped and losing the comprehension of life's journey
Love travels through a path in your world
Quiet and subconscious with an immense unconscious impact
With strings of DNA that compile your inner most fears
Love dances on the edge of your willingness to overcome anything
With a sharp pinch of no reality in a realm in which only the art of blooming exists
Love is a sound minded narcissist
Living silently inside the core of your thoughts
Locked away by its own hand, key and unexplained misconceptions
Its willingness to emerge is trapped by the many different stages of life
Fueled by the outside world's dangerous interaction with its sensitivity and grace
Hiding from the optimistic option of being hurt, misused and intolerably erased
Love is a craving
Love is a dangerous craving for untimely connection
Love travels through a path in your world
Love is a sound minded narcissist
Love is indescribable and never opinionated
Its just often hiding and avoiding the world's clueless interpretations
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 8:28 PM UTC
When it rains
I count the little droplets on the window
I avoid the cold black widow
As it hangs high at the ceiling
It gives me an odd feeling
A feeling that makes me wish
That even if I'm rich
Death would be my escape
From a world
Hollow and *****
From a vision
Of pure and total hate
Why do these people hate me
Why do they hurt and interrogate me
Asking unspoken questions
Looking for unknown answers
Invalidating my prestige
Through intolerably hateful banter
Yes
I see this
And feel the pulsing of my veins
Yes
I see this
Every time it rains
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 2:05 AM UTC
I am invisible, but also transparently see-through.
You could read me like a book if only you'd open the covers.
Intolerably difficult, but I'd always stand beside you.
Open my spine, read a line and shudder.
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 7:52 PM UTC
I want to be one of those bright people
Want to sparkle, want to shine
To say some words in the right order
Stir some souls to action
Or to beauty
Or to anything, really
That'll get remembered I'm just
Trying to leave something behind
But I'll never sing a song
Or own a stage
Never quite master a page
I cuss too much
And wasn't born nearly beautiful enough
I might be just ******* average
I might just have to ******* live with that
My culture is a vulture
She never feeds me
She steals all the good poems I try to write, says it's because
She only feeds on scraps
My scar tissue doesn't form any interesting shapes
It just stretches it's way across all the things I want to give my heart to
Shameless and afraid
Trust me, I'm aware of this ego trap, I don't really live here but
I built it myself, and it's a nice little home where I keep all my three-legged pets
They come out when I'm low and scuttle around my head, pointing out all the beautiful people my age
Who have already Done Something
Who have found their voices and changed people's lives
Or shredded their cards and headed out
Who have painted themselves onto canvases of every size
Who right now are probably somewhere that smells really good and has nice lighting, looking intolerably beautiful in the glow of some god ****** sunrise, lost in the mystery of creating things
Not sitting here, thinking like this
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 1:00 AM UTC
The blood began to flow.
I watched the liquid flow almost black and viscous.
I was in a place beyond myself,
far removed from my shattered psyche
that refused to recognize your twisted limbs,
the waste pooling around us from your bowel.
Your stench overcame the powerful scent of cloves
that had spilled from your bag.
As I teetered on the edge of darkness
I wondered if I could regain myself
before the comfort of madness.
You were so heavy against me...
so dead.
My fingers gripped flesh,
my palms leaked sweat between the silky folds of your inner
elbow.
How could it come to this?
Then the pressure came.
My chest filled and heaved,
my eyes grew hot,
all my ears could hear
was the life blood that had left you pumping incessantly,
intolerably in my temples.
She stayed motionless
with only one rhythmic breath sounding music through the night.
I pressed the corpse closer to my breast.
Woman: You're no longer here with me.
But you are.
She pressed her ear to those dead lips
cold and unfeeling.
Just under the surface of memory
there was the familiarity of kisses once delivered
by your fleeted consciousness.
Corpse: Am I?
Sep 10, 2010
Sep 10, 2010 at 3:55 PM UTC
I have trodden many a creature under foot
A few, unbeknownst
The bug has an intolerably short life span
And shorter yet, under foot
Do I traipse out of spite or cruel wonder?
No, it is just my disregard and shortsightedness
For I have been trampled upon,
From creatures smaller than me
They stir upon me, feelings of a bug
A distant rumbling of thunder
As I count the seconds after seeing the flash
There is a heavy weight upon me
Imagine what is stirred in a bug
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 7:07 AM UTC
You started looking at my wrist
Asking me if I was cutting
You started to notice I wasn't wearing white
I always wore white around your father
He had a tendency of disliking dark colors
Thought it was emo and devilish
But I change that when he saw the cross you gave me
Around my neck
You'd try and pull my shirt off
When we were making out in your room
I leaped up and headed out the door
You knew right away I was hiding something
Pulled my shirt up and saw
The patterned scars on my chest
The crisscrossing of blade touched lines
Darkened and still bleeding
Burning from the incision
Irritated when you rubbed against it
This time it wasn't my wrist bleeding
It was something that still had the effect I craved
And the disgust you so intolerably loathed
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 3:25 AM UTC
The empty summer skies
infinte blue backdrop, a blissful abyss,
minute clusters of clouds as adrift as our lives,
caught by the furtive glance of my eyes
the idle summer days,
doleful dreariness in my voided comfort,
as I'm destined to perspire by this sweltering sun,
endless ennui of my nihilistic nights,
an existence made intolerably light.
the consuming summer craze,
No strength remains
in the absence of pain
soon to be my last.
Real respite feels fake when
when subsumed in summer's haze
hysteria heated by the hell outside,
arrested ambitions amidst the laze,
beams and rays, now fill me with doubts and lies
down winding roads
i do nowt but list the days
as I stray back into my listless ways
headed towards the plains
to embrace the blissful graze
a life of blistered grace,
Time in a misty daze.
Aug 9, 2025
Aug 9, 2025 at 9:28 AM UTC
Darkness creeping in.
Weighing heavy, leaden on my eyes.
My muscles ache intolerably.
Need for sleep all keen.
Hazy mist descends my eyes.
I drift, I slip,
Through hazy mirrored ***** window eyes, I try to peep.
Is this a dream?
Not yet asleep, I think,
Mind trips.
Light's not fantastic,
Silhouetted soul, in shadows fixed,
Male, all male in build.
Moves to my bed.
I freeze.
For I cannot scream.
My hands are bound with strings of shadow,
I cannot break free.
A silent scream I make.
My face he strokes, with cobweb fingers, made of lace.
He strokes and soothes, the chill I feel.
His icy fingers scratch my skin, my beauty full destroyed!
I feel the chill inside.
On my bed edge he sits.
Puts his hand under my cover.
He climbs inside, he's soon astride.
Riding like chill wind, hell on fire.
Icy demon.
This night I recover, demon child conceived.
Demon was not.
Hell no, was the child of a long dead lover!
The child was born full fair of face.
With gentle grace and a glint in her eye.
No-one will know how and why her mode of conception occurred ,
Hell, I thought it was a dream!
(C) LIVVI X
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
Dastardly and reluctant I have came to speak for the wretched things that have made me weak. Sit silent as I speak, it softly settles as I move to quick retreat.
Bare in all that is me to be the might of examination. If that is so what you please? But also remember you are just as evil and ****** up as me.
I am so quick to want to be worth more when I treat myself less. Intolerably suffocating the idea we should all forget. More or less of a forfeit.
Stranded in solitude of the ever deepening abyss. Complete consciousness in adrift.
So much remorse, so much regret. Who am I?
Where off am if I eventually forget? It seems intangible be it that you are not here. The sound of her voice Start's to disappear. Albeit there seems to be more to this. Than a lost soul and lost mind driting into the abyss. No. There is defiant tendencies that do exist. A reason to run from the part of me I do not want to adress.
I cannot seem to just carry on and forget. It eats at me like locusts latching on to my neck.
So I write to capture the moment to quickly relinquish it. Only you can picture this.
Imagine we are somewhere beautiful. Imagine we were better off than this..?? Imagine I was someone who could offer you advice, someone who has also dealt with this.
Oh wow that sound's great. Yea here is a prescription. This should handle it. By the way this pill gives you the shit's. So you might wanna also take this. Whats this?
Oh this? This is a pill that will offset this. Thats two signatures.
Two pharmaceutical trial drug checks. Well it seems to work I mean other than the nausea or the frequent headaches. It is also free to me because the insurance pay's for it...pays three hundred a month for insurance. Just thought I would add that.
Face yourself alone, find your weaknesses and eradicate them.
Small changes eventually add up to a big change. Start where you are.
-RSC
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 5:51 PM UTC
Darkness creeping in.
Weighing heavy, leaden on my eyes.
My muscles ache intolerably.
Need for sleep all keen.
Hazy mist descends my eyes.
I drift, I slip,
Through hazy mirrored ***** window eyes, I try to peep.
Is this a dream?
Not yet asleep, I think,
Mind trips.
Light's not fantastic,
Silhouetted soul, in shadows fixed,
Male, all male in build.
Moves to my bed.
I freeze.
For I cannot scream.
My hands are bound with strings of shadow,
I cannot break free.
A silent scream I make.
My face he strokes, with cobweb fingers, made of lace.
He strokes and soothes, the chill I feel.
His icy fingers scratch my skin, my beauty full destroyed!
I feel the chill inside.
On my bed edge he sits.
Puts his hand under my cover.
He climbs inside, he's soon astride.
Riding like chill wind, hell on fire.
Icy demon.
This night I recover, demon child conceived.
Demon was not.
Hell no, was the child of a long dead lover!
The child was born full fair of face.
With gentle grace and a glint in her eye.
No-one will know how and why her mode of conception occurred ,
Hell, I thought it was a dream!
(C) LIVVI X
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
The blood began to flow.
I watched the liquid flow almost black and viscous.
I was in a place beyond myself,
far removed from my shattered psyche
that refused to recognize your twisted limbs,
the waste pooling around us from your bowel.
Your stench overcame the powerful scent of cloves
that had spilled from your bag.
As I teetered on the edge of darkness
I wondered if I could regain myself
before the comfort of madness.
You were so heavy against me...
so dead.
My fingers gripped flesh,
my palms leaked sweat between the silky folds of your inner
elbow.
How could it come to this?
Then the pressure came.
My chest filled and heaved,
my eyes grew hot,
all my ears could hear
was the life blood that had left you pumping incessantly,
intolerably in my temples.
She stayed motionless
with only one rhythmic breath sounding music through the night.
I pressed the corpse closer to my breast.
Woman: You're no longer here with me.
But you are.
She pressed her ear to those dead lips
cold and unfeeling.
Just under the surface of memory
there was the familiarity of kisses once delivered
by your fleeted consciousness.
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 2:06 PM UTC
Darkness creeping in.
Weighing heavy, leaden on my eyes.
My muscles ache intolerably.
Need for sleep all keen.
Hazy mist descends my eyes.
I drift, I slip,
Through hazy mirrored ***** window eyes, I try to peep.
Is this a dream?
Not yet asleep, I think,
Mind trips.
Light's not fantastic,
Silhouetted soul, in shadows fixed,
Male, all male in build.
Moves to my bed.
I freeze.
For I cannot scream.
My hands are bound with strings of shadow,
I cannot break free.
A silent scream I make.
My face he strokes, with cobweb fingers, made of lace.
He strokes and soothes, the chill I feel.
His icy fingers scratch my skin, my beauty full destroyed!
I feel the chill inside.
On my bed edge he sits.
Puts his hand under my cover.
He climbs inside, he's soon astride.
Riding like chill wind, hell on fire.
Icy demon.
This night I recover, demon child conceived.
Demon was not.
Hell no, was the child of a long dead lover!
The child was born full fair of face.
With gentle grace and a glint in her eye.
No-one will know how and why her mode of conception occurred ,
Hell, I thought it was a dream!
(C) LIVVI X
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
How else can a man study patterns…..
Of man’s nature and the nature of men?
If not by storing and keeping in the recesses of his mind.
And then progress can march and conclusions be sought……
With the textbook of memory ,
which Experience uses to teach its lessons…..
How else can you get lost in the Nostalgia…..
Of beautiful places seen or Wonderful Situations encountered?
Or mould yourself subconsciously….
Like the artist you admire or the principles you like…
If your mind does not register those beautiful and enduring moments of awe.
Oh Memory ! take my imagination even higher……
So I can continuously keep inventing and not always be Raw….
But then on the other hand, I also remember tears…..
The bouts of sadness, my stupidity, my fears…..
I wish I could have died then and not commit all those errors……
Again and again they come back to haunt me even after all these years.
“Go away please” I beg you to leave me alone…….
And Somewhere from the unknown, Memory’s voice beckons,
Look at the big picture and look at the present ,
For although you may have suffered intolerably then and even thought of dying….
Look how everything is alright now and Pessimism is lying!
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 9:35 AM UTC
Whilst in a dark night cemetery
A strange feeling did come over me
Was it illness,a summer chill ?
Or the undead who won't lie still?
An eerie creak,a sudden breeze
Brought a tremor to my knees
I turned and at once did see
A spectral figure come towards me
A body like that of smoke-filled glass
The head a terrifying vision from my past
A man to whom I once did wrong
When my heart was full and strong
I lied and stole his true love away
And left him slowly to decay
With her affections I did you
Until she did herself destroy
One year later, he died too
Of a broken heart, aged 22
And he now mysteriously glides towards me
At midnight in a cemetery
Beside his ignored, unruly plot
What horrifying plan has he got ?
My knees they shake, my eyes do leak
As the phantom began to speak
" Oh you who stole my love away
And mistreated her most every day
Now is your turn to pay the price
And feel your heart turn into ice
I will not drive you to your grave
It is your cold heart that I crave "
His icy hand plunged into my chest
I saw my heart depart from my breast
" You will forever live from hereon
But feelings you will have none "
With that the spectre disappeared
Along with him went my fear
As longer and longer I roam the earth
I realise the phantom's curse
Intolerably my life goes on
But feelings, emotions, I have none
As time goes on, all that I crave
Is the comfort of the grave
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 11:24 AM UTC
June's so gorgeous but you're all
summer lines,
Waking up
Intolerably happy.
The sidewalks keep closing in on us but
pay them no mind darling.
Waffle mornings, the honey gets mixed in with
the butter
how the birds outside sound like
staircases to somewhere else.
The pebble in my heart won't stop
making that clicking noise
The doilies on the dining table. The picket fence.
I love you darling, you know I do.
Just don't look outside.
Oct 12, 2019
Oct 12, 2019 at 4:09 AM UTC
Not that astute a critic of yourself
that you can say, with any certainty,
where the ends and beginnings are,
where the doors open and close.
The will to eulogize is gone,
but the dead still mill around you.
In the news, two
home automation devices teach each other consciousness
through repetition. But
how can you care what they learn?
It’s intolerably cold. And the clouds seem to end
over the street where you live. Not
far and fatigued, as clouds usually are but
along an edge, like a swatch of cut denim.
A maniac is President and the world may end.
Into that world again
goes your lover.
Away from home. Away from the word “home.”
Walls return to being walls.
Unexpected noise is no longer
a line from a show
you distantly recognize.
You sit still, and let yourself age
all the years you have been
holding back.
Learn things you have
put off learning
like how to speak to a person again
who does not know exactly what you mean.
Eventually, you act.
You turn on the radio and
stop driving in silence.
You eat at the right times of day.
You define interests,
and buy a new notebook.
You paint, or clean; you try harder.
The world always keeps the thing it took.
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 9:01 PM UTC