"inured" poems
In pubs with bar flies.
Kronenburg, Becks, Carling, Stella Artois and Fosters,
Dancing in our blood,
Utterly inured; we are endured by all:
The solipsism most profound.
And when Johnnie, Jack and Jameson join,
The sentimental and the morbid
Are conjoined.
And ****
In the custody of beer halls,
The shadows that draw, fade,
And calls – e’en Death’s! -- are put on hold!
No time; instead, before the last, another pint.
For in this hallowed inn,
Drinking what’s in the glass,
And espousing the glow within,
Cares regress.
No woes,
Or loaded psyches,
For when the pressure builds,
The best: a jet of yellow bliss,
Relieves the pain,
On Armitage Shanks' porcelain.
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 6:50 PM UTC
1242
To flee from memory
Had we the Wings
Many would fly
Inured to slower things
Birds with surprise
Would scan the cowering Van
Of men escaping
From the mind of man
6.3k
Elephants are contagious!
Be careful how you tread.
An Elephant that's been trodden on
Should be confined to bed!
Leopards are contagious too.
Be careful tiny tots.
They don't give you a temperature
But lots and lots - of spots.
The Herring is a lucky fish
From all disease inured.
Should he be ill when caught at sea;
Immediately - he's cured!
4.7k
Touch me my soul make the words roll over my skin
Only if you know how to write to me my angel my kin
I am not waiting for a mask not either a disguise
Open your veins to me
Let me read in the red waters on my lips
Let me read the words, free me of the words
in any possible way
may the rain down my eyelids
may they kiss my legs
Make me laugh like a springtime morning
A soft laughter that tears up the skies
Those who gives shivers and marvels
send a shiver to my spine make my head spin
feed on my sapiophile soul
more never stop or only to make me miss you
only to make me deliciously pine for them ever more
I am tired by the dalliances I want the four season muse
You are so right I am the demure sylph
Inured by the tar black clouds and the tempests
so delicate with those thin dragonfly lyrics
It's all made of your sighs and your caresses
One day perhaps you'll have your own epiphany
You will call me Marie and all of my other names
You'll use your precious eloquence to tell me
How we were meant to be
Resonate like a familiar sound snowing in my mind
Purifying the emotional landscape
NOW is the time even if there's no hurry
Haven't we lost enough time to be without one another
Every of my names no matter my dress
They will all adore you as bitter as sweet
I'll be on your ego like a caress
I will read you like a sassy poem
Like an impatient flame
You'll be the one who dares to be frail
You'll dive in my treasure and get out of the bitter sea
Together like a team united for the beauty of the worse(...)
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 6:22 AM UTC
Eyes wide
you do not allow
oblivious sleep
shadows branded
on my retina
reveal all contrast
tattooed on my shoulder
a skeletal hand
*this illusion
pins me down*
your questions
have no answers
questions remain
asked again and again
*I swear
I know nothing*
You say everything
*is immaterial
subjectively real
ideas existent
in the mind
of the perceiver
I am*
(you insist)
a true believer
Parched and shrinking
I ask for mercy
you bring the cup
to my fissured lips
but it is empty
a vessel of air
you murmur
*there is only enough
for one
what will you give
in return?*
Heavy metal
arpeggios of wind
head bang
petulant faces
inured to rain
a repeating refrain
in falsehood
lies your truth
but even you
cannot halt the dawn
a dark horizon
pulls the strings
powerless
you sink
behind the cloud-
wall of your storm
is it safe now to close my eyes?
three times whisper
*be gone
bright fiend*
a weary incantation
spell of protection
the yawning wind
done with howling
hums reassuringly
*“a change is gonna come
imagine
peace in our time”*
Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 9:58 AM UTC
The worst thing about abuse
is not so much the guilt
of feeling you're to blame
that you should never
have been so attractive
so irresistible, so seductive
though in all other contexts
you felt anything but,
were filled with doubt
and lacked self confidence
No, the worst thing of all
is the way that when
it's repeated enough times
you get used to it, inured
then in time there's a part
of you comes to welcome
that expected familiarity
need it even, participate,
share the other's pleasure
But the rest of you
rails against this
taking of your autonomy
this removal of consent
and that part wages war
upon the part that
gives it's acquiescence
and you are fractured
hating your complicity
despise that you made it
in any part your fault
Yet to have healing
requires you recognise
the part of you
that went along
was no more to blame
than the part that didn't
it was just a coping strategy
you needed to survive
after all what else
could you have done?
Cynthia Pauline Jones, 18/10/13
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 6:07 AM UTC
To be imbued with the conviction that empathic listening is a panacea,
by the surreptitious, murmurous harbinger and his mellifluous words,
provoked brooding that my comprehension of his susurrous eloquence was a mondegreen,
when this scintilla of sagacity left a fetching ingenue crestfallen.
By the surreptitious, murmurous harbinger and his mellifluous words!
I adopted a propinquity to this furtive, ephemeral epiphany,
but when this scintilla of sagacity left a fetching ingenue crestfallen,
I discerned this lagniappe beleaguered our dalliance.
I adopted a propinquity to this furtive, ephemeral epiphany.
When she became inured to petrichor I knew my method pyrrhic,
and when I discerned that this lagniappe beleaguered our dalliance,
I vowed to rectify the imbroglio for my quintessential cynosure.
When she became inured to petrichor I knew my method pyrrhic,
and I ruminated that her insouciance was only forbearance.
I vowed to rectify my quintessential cynosure of the imbroglio,
and fabricated a denouement to return her to halcyon incipient.
I ruminated that her insouciance was only forbearance,
until hearing her state our conflation made each a moiety of our own panoply.
She fabricated a denouement to return us to the incipience of halcyon
with ineffable felicity, and I remembered with ebullience my inamorata's words.
Hearing her state our conflation made each a moiety of our own panoply
provoked brooding that my comprehension of her susurrous eloquence was a mondegreen.
With ineffable felicity I found ebullience in my inamorata's words
and was imbued with the conviction that empathic listening is a panacea.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 4:58 AM UTC
We were a beleaguered bard born,
a chief in chatoyant charms charged with
the principle petrichor of passionate paramours;
to drive the dainty dalliances
of incipient ingénues immured in
glamourous gossamer gowns;
lilting, lead lissome lads 'long labyrinthine love;
mischeiviously make mellifluous mondegreens;
sing of such serendipity: surreptitiously susurrous sessions
scintillas of Spring's sempiternal sentiments!
But fetching fugues fade fast, felicity's fated to fly. For
penumbral poets, it portends a pyrrhic pay.
We wander woebegone, waiting wistfully.
Lovers leave lyricists to languish in lonely lassitude.
The halcyon heyday has harbingered
inbroglio in the inured inventor of infatuation.
Why? With what wherewithal?
Often our offerings off us, opposite of, obviously, obtaining, or,
lucidly: lyrical lacers of Love likewise lack its livening lagniappe.
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 11:59 AM UTC
We,
the uninsured
being inured to this,
the will of gods.
Our lives doled out in tablet form
from birth to breath by those pharmacists
with death proscribed,
prescription wise.
My eyes have seen the crookedness that shake
foundations,
three times a day we pray again to all the gods
to open up and swallow pills and god just nods
his head,agrees that we need medications.
The ***** top bottle throttles me
but I am strangled happily by those 'dolls'
the greens and reds of fol de rols
a plague on gaudiness unless instructions say,
take the pills three times a day.
These games we play, I'll say,
are just a side event,a small diversion to prevent us
from ever having to face the facts,
but we're inured to that and so,
on and on and on we go until the end is reached.
I plead,
just one more pill,
it appears that this is not the will of god or any pharmacist,
I missed the last bus home,but home is hell and
so that's just as well.
I wait in the wings to see
what tomorrow brings.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 6:45 AM UTC
Here comes another day, another dawn
A look in the mirror tells me, I'm still forlorn
day has broken, the birds chirp, 'Good morn!"
but my mind is broken, my spirit is all, but gone
This guy before me, he looks a stranger
he's so different now; he was once a H granger
he's lost in the wilderness where he was once a ranger
so inured to the system, he's unaware of the danger
I take a deep breath; I can hardly breathe
sometimes I wonder, how will be my wreath
I try and reason; it's not gonna help to seethe
All these troubles; they surely will help me teethe
I know rest is all I need
Oh, I should stop this bleed
Where have I lost my creed?
I need it to commit many a deed
My nerves are feeling Time's bite
but my mind refuses to give in without a fight
the going has become tough; the time has become tight
It's time to sadly say Good night.
Though my eyes seem to burst at their seems
I'll hope and pray you'll come in my dreams
Lord of my Hope, you are my Don
Give me another day, another dawn.
Give me another day, another dawn.
Give me another day, another dawn!
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 12:19 PM UTC
Thou art not lovelier than lilacs,—no,
Nor honeysuckle; thou art not more fair
Than small white single poppies,—I can bear
Thy beauty; though I bend before thee, though
From left to right, not knowing where to go,
I turn my troubled eyes, nor here nor there
Find any refuge from thee, yet I swear
So has it been with mist,—with moonlight so.
Like him who day by day unto his draught
Of delicate poison adds him one drop more
Till he may drink unharmed the death of ten,
Even so, inured to beauty, who have quaffed
Each hour more deeply than the hour before,
I drink—and live—what has destroyed some men.
1.9k
Allowing a wall
Before their rational
Thinking stand,
Inured to their heinous deed
Of every brand,
From head to toe
Involved in corruption grand,
Also while fellow citizens
Gasp for air,
Not giving an ounce of care,
Barefacedly they dare
Unjust war to declare!
"Valorous,wiping you out
We shall make the land bare!"
"Chained, cruel and corrupt
Honest - thieves and cut-throats
Us,to court you took
To punish us by the book
Such a move by hook or crook
We shall abort
Haven't it dawned on you the import?
--the select few
From the palace to port
As autocracy is our wont,
And zone of comfort
If stripped of this right
For us it will not be all right!
Though finger countered,
We hail from an ethnic group,
Marked brave
And which we could mobilize,
As our selfishness and brutality
It seems oblivious to realize.
Though during our hay days
Its plight we failed to mollify
Massaging its ego
The call for unjust war
We shall amplify
Unrepentant ,
We should
Wage a fight.
Though some of us
Are on the run,
As blood is thicker than water,
With the credulous
That fight for us
Emerge victorious we can.
To reinstate
Rule of the gun
On which
The international
Community
Has put a ban.
But
"To flee pang-of-conscience
How fast be the pace?
No need it is no where in place"
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 3:40 AM UTC
snaking through a modal-jazz fine-tuned evening
this soft huddle of sweat and tender bodies
it was purely girls strobed, fired upon by the oncoming *****
of a maddened hand;
slowly becoming inured to this droning of the blameful balm
of evening, always when ennui starts
to wane I will start the car
and take myself to the edge of everything
and all the suddenness becomes inept
and I myself
a shot in the total dark
making it final
somewhere in Quezon City
given a levitation and you
are somewhat veined to my wall of disgust
the same as
finding an old, forgotten thing
you
have no use for.
Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 1:05 AM UTC
Will an eligible bloke happier be if he
Marries a ranking *ele like Miss Universe
With all her glory and graces, and 'cause
Of marriage mirth? Will a sheila pretty
An unbroken regalement have for a dream
Prince Charming--the fairy man of her whim?
Will the soul be jolly for the sophomore
More than for the frosh rapture of success
Had in the Ivy League of cosmic business,
When the heart cut a caper and an encore
Of hilarity requests of narrowed life--
To have constant binge in lieu of strive?
What man is wholly from trouble free, whose
Being be to sadness inured? Within, the
Spokes do sometimes snap at the rotary
Wheels of serenity, and chaos is let loose.
What thus can stay the pillars of pleasure in
A plagued world is above this little noggin.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 11:57 AM UTC
i am a survivor, i am a scavenger, i am a man with
no shame. i am an artist, i am a writer, i am an
iconoclast. i am a lover, i am a creator, i am a
destroyer. i am quality, i am worthless, i am absence.
i am man, i am conqueror, i am world-ender. i am an
addict, i am old, i am wizened. i am free, i am
young, i am unnurtured. i am secret, i am becoming,
i am a wreck. i am a shadow, i am oblivious, i am
obvious. i am obscene, i am abhorrent, i am hidden. i
am a seeker, i abstain – i am a liar. i am a deceiver, i am
an actor, i am unknowable. i am entirety, i am
citizen, i am insolence. i am thought, i am concept, i
am revoked. i am wanderer, i am thoughtless, i am
lost. i am undying, i am inured, i am fleeting. i am
alive, i am mythologized, i am end. i am a thief, i am
a monster, i am alive. i am a philosopher, i am a
thinker, i am superfluous. i am good, i am evil, i am
unaligned. i am pragmastic, i am irrational, i am
common sanity. i am emotional, i am withheld, i am
interred. i am new, i am ruined, i am interregna. i am
proper, i am erased, i am discrection. i am sought, i
am not, i am simple. i am somnolent, i am erratic, i
am errancy. i am abstinence, i am uncontrolled, i am
the world. i am fraught, i am emptiness, i am
humanity. i am dandelion, i am magnolia, i am an
albatross. i am talent, i am intelligence, i am
fettered. i am here and now, i am then and when,
i am done.
i am malice, i am harm, i am self-destruction.
i am a fighter, i am encephalic, i am lost.
i am alone, i am alive, i am free.
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 2:46 AM UTC
Beginning with the frost and snow,
anticipation extended its tedious reach again,
but it was not right to suffer as the season
swept around the sun. A member of the
fall, like a tender leaf felt inured, by thought,
a humble intellect to serve the usual course
in words and weather, the pride of a
recurring sort. Weary blades of grass
were striving, even so, to grow against
the warmth in the few weeks, and, as the
skirts were purchased in the stores,
investment ruled to favor amiable, cold
breezes. The house grew quiet as the fans
were stilled for a suspense until the
furnace roared. The issue was patterns in
layers from the top, and the claim to the
design belonged only to the way the ice
expanded as crystals of moisture, crazy,
having forgotten how to caress the blossoms
of the shrubs; thus, a pleasure had gone to
sleep, its circulation numbed by
inevitable force, and conditions hibernated
beneath the indelible clarity of the air. The
splendid gyrations of the course became
obstacles harder on tightened joints, while
contestants moved from the warm climate
to the chilling, northern forests. It remained
possible to survive, because there were other
members of the team such as split sticks of
wood and cradles for sprained elbows. It
could not be suitable to grow tired of such a
challenge. When the door was secured, the
roots could relax and spread out like the
tentacles of a squid, beside the glowing hearth,
to read a book or watch a show. Above, there
was nothing left alive between the earth and
the birds, scratched into the sky and dashed
along the lines of wire. Birds sagged and were
swaying while the gusts played with their bony
feet clutched around the cylinders made of
copper and coated with insulation. Warm
currents and feathers made a thatch for a roof
that favored the roots and left them insulated
while around them slumbering creatures had
been forgotten. No memory existed to claim
the cycle of the warm days when the humming
in space reflected the ripples in the shaded
pools. The endless days were the realm of
vacant threads of branches in the chilly trees.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 8:10 PM UTC
Times behold when twisted men are captured by their spleen
When souls will writhe in torment though their thoughts are seldom seen,
When agitation rides aloft with blunt spur on its' ****
And the hounds of hell are baying as though purgatory will pass.
Torment in its' basest form is shaded beastly red
Immersing flocks of faithful in the mind set till they’re dead,
For shredded nails and worry lines, so deeply now ingrained,
Are signatured paralysis of the breed that has abstained.
Abstained in all things beautiful, such as dreams which flow in mirth,
Abstained from eyes of merriment and joyful leaps from earth,
Divorced to all that conjures up the gracious well of love
Divorced from thoughts of holiness in faith, both hand in glove.
Baptised to despondency, inured to sights and sounds
Which lift the mind's creation well beyond all earthly bounds,
Committed to the trench of the dark abyss of gloom
Assigned to unenlightenment...The soul has left the room.
© 2012 Marshal Gebbie
May 23, 2012
May 23, 2012 at 4:26 AM UTC
noble soul with eyes downcast
digs in dirt for his repast
seeks he there but does not find
nourishment to ease his mind
noble soul in dross obscured
tarnish he has long inured
mirror must be cleaned to shine,
reflect the rays of love divine
--bruised orange
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 1:21 PM UTC
Duped by Satan, the best man
About the commandments
Remind himself no longer can!
Getting inured to the situation
He is in, he committed a sin.
The pious cuckold put
A noose around his neck
Into his hands his shattered life to take.
Those, who backbiting him
Capitalizing on what he lack
Saw their crime stark
A sharp tongue could be
The worst weapon of attack.
Cane killed Abel with a stone
"Where is your brother?"
Asked him God anon
Cane got submerged
In sin's mud pool deeper
"Am I my brother's keeper?"
The act of killing a brother
With a stone
Might had gone,
But changing its form
It pokes its ugly face
In every place.
Inflicting on
A brother or neighbor harm
Such as putting those
Spliced in marriage asunder
Is no less than committing ******
May 9, 2019
May 9, 2019 at 4:57 AM UTC
With drunken hands, my mother mends
the hem of my patchwork quilt
And spills her tears on every stitch
Atonement for her guilt
Sadly smiling, she strings a collection
of hailstones atop my breast
In total silence, she whispers “I’m sorry.”
I am too weak to protest
I cry the day those pearly beads
melt into my sweater collar
So cold in my hollow chest, I hid
the string in my drawer
too ashamed to explain
too scared to admit
I’m avoiding the pain
I sleep beneath a graceless blanket
a warmth upon which I depend
I ignore other hopelessly broken things
which I am too inured to mend
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 11:04 PM UTC
Impressionable young women
encouraged to enter a trade
that oft belittles and degrades
detrimental to mental health
not worth the short-term wealth
people have become inured
forget the pain often endured
reality becomes obscured
to enter a life of vice
women can feel they have no choice
no other way they recognise
fed by their dealers lies
I always picture it seedy
making a living from the needy
pimps are just plain greedy
big men, in fact, weedy
I’m told its consensual
to me thats nonsensical
is it anyway factual
maybe ‘John’s’ whimsical
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 1:22 PM UTC
Give me a pebble and I'll give you a diamond.
Give me a tear and I'll hand you a smile.
Give me your worthless worries
your hopeless heartbreaks
your endless encumbrances
your inured infractions.
Stone me,
Pelt me,
Inundate me
with your misfortune.
Load me with your burdens
So at the end of the day once you're weary of these timeless toils
The mirror shows not the creases of creation
but you.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 11:09 AM UTC
once I beat a television to death
it was a very bad television, always showing me bad things
almost as if it had some proclivity for badness
but how can an inanimate thing have an inclination
surely what it showed to me was of my persuasion
So soon after I'd thrown it out
I sat around fulminating in something of a pout
at first I missed the sensation, the noise and the thrill
and observed I'd become quite inured to the ****
and little by little as such thoughts soon languished
it occurred to me also such thoughts would be vanquished
So after a spell, I obtained another set
and soon I was reminded, it wasn't finished with me yet
oh the gore, the blood, oh the sinister grime
oh you and me what a ghastly good time
and then and there I again realized
the images I'm viewing are choices of mine
How quickly we forget
memories of convenience
blaming the other guy
scapegoating reason
nobody forces you to watch the modern megalith
and once again I beat another television to death
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 10:38 PM UTC