"irrecoverable" poems
I've got the luck.
The luck to find you.
Be with you and become star struck.
You're this mystery of constellations.
Tropical Zodiac of which I attract.
May and June is when you were born.
But who you are inside, you seem so torn.
If I stick around long enough I get to see all the sides to you.
Too many to count. I've stuck around too long.
We always start off great.
Amazing chatter and interest.
Attraction like fire burning late.
The days are getting shorter.
My time more precious.
Its you I want to spend it with.
I just have one question.
Are you a Gemini? Don't answer I know this one.
We've been intense tonight.
You looked into my eyes.
And the world just felt right.
We kissed and passion you were over-run.
We just had *** and I was the best you'd ever done.
We just told each other we were in love. Feelings too intense to keep to our selves.
You suddenly went cold and disappeared. Like a beautiful dream irrecoverable in the morning.
As surreal as you came you left.
You've hurt me more times than I could take.
You've left me feeling like, with my life there's nothing more I can make.
You're a Gemini.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
We the citizens, who live as refugees,
We keep earning & see if our life is turning,
To the price rise, we lose savings,
Still we remain rock-bottom in standard of living.
We belong to the middle class,
Whose life always a breakable thin glass.
Our life remains completely unsettle,
Every second, life tests our mettle.
Life chases us with pressure, failure and useless lecture,
We are nurtured with a fear of future,
Happiness remains just a leisure,
Live with the unsecure & unsure present for a secure future.
We keep us busy and function,
We fear, when there arrives a function,
Towards happiness, we run as a pilgrim,
For the corporates, we become a mere victim.
We run like an athlete for salary, food and target,
For this globalized world, we are just a market,
Like hungry dogs, we wait for increments,
We keep running with bitter disappointments.
We live in own house, only in our dreams,
Our hearts cry with hopeless screams,
Failures remain our tutors,
Inability has turned us the irrecoverable debtors.
Our appearance has a rich look,
We have untold hidden burdens,
That keep us shook,
Keeps us forbidden and fear-ridden.
Low class think us rich,
High class always want us to be their *****
Politically neglected by the rulers,
Economically exploited by the rich powers.
We exhaust ourself for subsistence,
We remain victorious and satisfied only in our existence,
We lose our life to sustain in competence,
We run our life with a mere persistence.
More than the high class and low class, we suffer,
Our lives never progressed as governments differ,
All see low class with empathy and sympathy,
To our difficulties, we are looked with apathy.
On rich, we are not jealous,
Towards our aim, we are zealous.
Never think we are nothing,
We truly have nothing to lose.
We take risks to make history,
Our path is nothing less than a mystery,
You never allow us to come up,
But we are not going to give up.
Hello High class,
Never pretend to live like us, to exploit us,
Gone are the days, we remained fools,
You will stand a day as the super intelligent fools.
Before, we are hungry for food,
Now, we are hungry to rule,
Before, we feared to live,
Now, we are ready to win the world.
We are nothing! We are nothing
We have nothing to lose!
We won’t stop until having nothing could do nothing to us.
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 7:35 AM UTC
I have a dream! I have a dream,
To the racial discriminators, said Martin Luther King,
I have a dream! I have a dream!
To the evil-creating economists, I warn and ring.
Globe witness hunger, inequality poverty and unemployment
The world turns out to be bitter,
To all of you, I write this letter.
To create a world relieved from these and turn better.
I am a mad aspiring economist, a fool,
Searching for the right tool,
You turned the world with full of mess,
People are left with nothing less.
To the world, you gave theories,
Pushed us into a vicious cycle of injuries,
About your theories, you boasted,
It has created a few ruling and bloated.
Most of you worked as economic hitmen,
Turned victim laymen to fighting gunmen.
To the realities, your theory is distant,
Served no solution to the dying peasants,
To the few, we remain a psychological slave and servants,
Tuned our lives to a depended migrant.
With your development lecture,
You have killed the entire nature,
In the name of ventures, corporates turned vulture,
Hunted and looted our generations’ future.
We lived a self-reliant community,
You killed us with imposed liability,
Our lives are now placed in intensive casualty,
The word that remains imagination still is equality.
We lost our humanity and identity,
In your eyes, we are just a market and commodity,
Your play with scarcity, was a mere futility,
We finally became a society, filled with atrocity.
Your useless lectures of development,
Put us under frightening & irrecoverable unemployment,
For a few, you got us into a deep-rooted enslavement,
So, now for you instead, we make a replacement.
To my questions, you neglected and ran,
In your eyes, I am foolish stupid common man,
To you short-sighted range,
I say I will bring in a change!
Today, I may remain lower and mere viewer,
A day will come, where you will stand to answer,
Writing a new rule, I would seize your beloved positions,
This will be my lifetime mission and ambition.
I say with all my limited experience,
I will put a test to all your conscience,
Are you just a fat-big corporate’s hand?
With people will you always stand?
I am not an economist,
I am neither an egotist,
I proclaim! I proclaim!
I am a revolutionary economist,
I know you will fit me a label,
I am sure I will be an economic rebel,
A rebellious economist.
I dream a world without huge inequalities,
I dream a world free from imposed liabilities,
I dream a world without poverty and disparities,
I finally dream for becoming an economist with no ambiguities.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 7:43 AM UTC
Bombs are falling in Aleppo,
the evil failed man that rules,
killing his own people,
Innocent noncombatants,
sheltering in their homes,
Crushed and buried in the
falling rubble of a dictator's
vengeful hate.
None but the volunteer
White Helmets digging
with bare hands to save
and unbury them, most
victims, irrecoverable pieces.
Occasionally, miraculously
some are spared and saved.
Through these valiant selfless
efforts.
Oh Syria, you are bombed and burned,
while the world fiddles an obtuse tune
and turns its collective back on desperate
human cries for assistance.
Jun 19, 2017
Jun 19, 2017 at 6:12 PM UTC
I've seen many in this gender;
Tying their essence
to another's existence,
Trying so hard to please and impress;
leaving them disappointed and depressed
I've seen many in this gender;
Reduced to drudgery and slavery
lose themselves and bravery
Regarded as a mere piece of meat
beaten and trodden under their lover's feet.
I've seen many in this gender;
Run away from public sight
afraid to men, it would be a slight
Holding back salient potentials
thinking to the world, are not essential.
I've seen many in this gender;
Used mainly for pleasure
taken to have no place or future
Treated in utter disdain
left to suffer innumerable pain
Yet I've seen some in this gender;
Awaken from their slumber
though few in number
leave beautiful memories and irrecoverable marks
refusing to be silenced at the back
So to us of this gender;
I believe there's more to you and me,
More than what the society sees.
Dare to be among the few that leaves their shield
Dare to be among the few that rises and not yield.
Chi Obinna
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 11:46 AM UTC
Today it's 5th September,in our country as we all know,it's celebrated as Teacher's Day.And,in my life I'm so much indebted to my teachers that I can hardly repay it or even can explain in words that what they gave me.From very early childhood I've a teacher,since I've sense I come to know that lady as my Mother,my basic education is her credit obviously,even now-a-days,when I'm in abroad.In such a unfamiliar world far from family friends,I feel so blessed I'm.In our Life as long we alive,our basic or moral education is the pillar which built our mindset or our character,rather than guide us the whole way along.And,here's the point I'm really feel myself blessed,the lessons of Life,she taught me in that Childhood,I really can't deny her debt.And,next to my Mother here I'll go for the persons beyond family-friends-relatives,who're not there always with me in the war of life,in the struggle of existence,but their presence is inevitable.After my Mother the persons taught me the mantra of Life are my Teachers.Throughout my Student Life I've met many & so many teachers as all of You.But among them very few are there,and that few are the people who made me whatever I'm today,irrecoverable debt,indebted forever.........................!!!!!!!-05.09.2013
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
i am sick and tired of people
trying to get to know me,
trying to figure me out,
trying to show me i'm better than i believe,
that i'm nicer than i make out to be
i'm not
you can't romanticize me
into being some kind of anti-hero,
into being some kind of lost soul who
just needs saving
or a hug
no, no hugs
please no hugging
i'll break your arms
physical contact? i can only accept that from a
limited few, on rare occasions.
it sickens me.
some people are imperfect and flawed,
irrecoverable,
and they own it.
sometimes you just have to accept
that some people are pieces of ****
and they like it that way.
i like keeping you all at arm's length,
at the very least
who'd ever want to let down their defenses
in front of
strangers
with grenades disguised as encouraging words
and guns disguised as empathy,
or sympathy...
i won't let your petty, loving instincts penetrate my armour
**** off
just let me be my own villain,
and you can learn to hate me
as much as i do and don't hate myself
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 8:38 PM UTC
Some call me a genius.
Some call me insane.
My friends say I'm a tragedy.
My parents say I'm just a little eccentric.
Tell me what you think.
I am nothing but a puppet.
Being handled and tossed around.
After awhile I'm just set aside.
I'm diverting at first, almost enjoyable, but, in the end, a bitter pill to all.
I apperceive no need to breath.
I have to necessitate my lungs to swell with air, then to shrivel, and epitomize the essence of life.
That's where my eloquence comes from, or it's the insanity. I'm not sure.
In my frigid, obscured, irrecoverable mind, insanity is eloquence, eloquence is tragedy, and tragedy is beauty.
I exist for the darkest of romances, the most distorted of lives.
It brings me what's closest to a sense of your "well-being".
I hate, therefore, I love.
So if I love hate, then, I love circles.
That's what my love is, a circle.
The grasps of reality, though persistent, quickly overwrought and became transient to me not very recently, but not too long ago.
I will abruptly tear down and rip to shreds any mark of social normality in or around me.
Now, will you decide whether I live or die?
Or shall I for you?
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
Reality isn't what it seems to be
it isn't touch, nor sound
it isn't a taste, nor is it visual
reality is what is perceived
what is believed
what is understood to be true
even when the memory is not
when the heart makes up its mind
and the mind draws up its own conclusion
then that is reality
even when its wrong, unjustly created
what is real? what is not?
why what one person sees isn't the same
as what the next person saw? felt? heard?
is one of them wrong? if so, than how is it proven
or how is it dis-proven? video tapes and voice recorders
can only prove or disprove the event.
not the feeling that was felt, or the mental strain
that was placed. How can something feel so right
to one person, yet complete tear down another?
one thing felt so good, yet it was so bad for you?
there is no spoon, nor is there a hand to hold it
for as your mind bends to the force of your own thoughts
the labyrinth that it creates spins your reality into something
different, irrecoverable, irrevocable, irresponsibly
I stand here, looking terrible in your eyes, and with love
mirroring the effects of the icy stare
I stand here, looking terrible in my own eyes.
this is reality
unfixable? unforgivable? unimaginable?
maybe
but if there is a chance to fight the reality
to bend the spoon
to show you that my reality is not your reality
then...maybe
for this is real, with two different realities
Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 7:28 AM UTC
i once gave all my secrets away.
i gave all my hopes and dreams,
even the horrible things.
i loved whole-heartedly,
one fragment at time.
i did do that once in my life.
burn.
i attempt to unravel, undress
these barriers now standing-between
you a n d me.
i fear the parts i gave along the ride,
are presently no longer mine
to own,
they were stolen somewhere-
upon the irrecoverable road.
i search subdued secrets
and invisible inclinations-
only to find,
what appears to be,
this tattered tangled twisted mind.
is diminished by
long-lost-leftover love.
stale but dispensing
hopes and dreams,
even the horrible things.
so long as you promise
to keep them somewhere safe
i promise one day,
to open locked gates-
and give to YOU
all my secrets away.
Jul 18, 2010
Jul 18, 2010 at 8:45 PM UTC
The location of the biological clock is complex.
Situated somewhere between my body
and everyone else's business.
Turning my womb into a property
everyone feels free to voice their opinion on.
As an elder woman turns to me and says:
"Now you're the only one left! Surely you'll be next."
Pressure disguised in encouragement.
One I am hesitant to slander, so I walk away,
politely, as if it were just a simple fender ******
Remarks and expectations thrown at me.
Everyone's opinion picking scabs to wounds
inside me nobody even knows exist.
Irrecoverable lacerations I will carry with me
until the end of my days.
Tik Tok goes the clock; perhaps it was a knock?
The message always the same: "Hurry up or you'll fall behind."
I slowly reach for the instrument measuring my time,
I tempt my fate a little while longer
by reluctantly snoozing my biological clock.
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 6:38 AM UTC
*When the loss falls
upon you like the darkness.
And in your heart
it seems irrecoverable
and all is forever lost.
Then remember this.
Even when the mighty stars
supernova in cataclysmic
exploding destruction..
Their energy
cannot be destroyed
but will only change state.
As it joins the expanding
universe.
To become a part
of something more
beautiful.*
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 4:42 PM UTC
Memories
forever
only as long as i can remember
it starts to get blurry and i'm breaking down
i don't want the last thing i had of you to be irrecoverable
devoid of meaning
lost within the confines of my brain
ruined
May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 11:36 AM UTC
One moment
cancels out another
signifying a loss
something that's past
could never return
the next kiss or embrace
is not the same
each a form
an inscription
a touch-on
like none other
once having emerged
disappears into nowhere
irreversibility is the unchanging theme
of time--
each tide carries
the water forward
leaving the rest behind
a gust of wind
sweeps across
insubstantial, lost
irrecoverable
in empty space
leaving no trace
nothing does
itself repeat
replication
and recurrence
would never be wrought--
ah, my dearest and most-loved
it's the moment now
to which we are together bound
as a word
is said
as our eyes
exchange
a message
as our heart
is locked
in secure passage
we'll not be left in doubt-
as the moanful nocturne
reaches out
and its last notes fade
and sink* away
in the night's whereabout
we will know
for sure
the telling is over
the curtain has fallen
a new chapter
must follow--
if this brittle transiency
you understand
as you hold my hand
it would be bliss enough
as in silence we remain
unfazed, unmoved, unruffled
mindless of what's to come
in the sureness of our faith
that would withstand and defy
any awaiting future outcome--
courage would be ours then
to reign in and reap for keeps
whereupon our long-cherished dream
would have crystallised and bloomed
a bright light would be beckoning from afar
amidst the gloom of the shivering night
we, though weary, would have arrived safely
after the long-tested travail and trial
Via Dolorosa would its farewell have bidden
all that our heart has longed and searched for
would at last have found its unmistakable haven.
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 8:51 AM UTC
I still cry over my accident that happened,
The accident that happened nearly 7 years ago.
Of any gains to me, there seems no hint at all,
And of my pain, there seems no happy end.
Reason with my invisible tears I often do,
Irrecoverable damage after all that happened,
More was the damage that was consequent.
I lost my friends, I lost my career overall,
The accident did no good to me except one.
Of my family ties, it strengthened them all,
And my physical pains are long subdued.
Reason I fail to find for my lost years,
Irrecoverable is the lost love and friendship,
More is that grief of the invisible tears.
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 12:05 AM UTC
Six months
of denying our existence.
“I’m so proud to say you’re not in my life;
I don’t know what I’d do with you.”
You’re the empty chair at the table,
… the cold side of the bed,
… the dial tone on the phone,
… the omnipotent absence
I’ve built my life around.
Six months
of no commitments, no definitions,
because you can’t define nonexistence.
We are a wordless nothing
consummated on a bed
of verse, novels, and music -
the only acceptable means of expression,
because you can’t speak in a wordless nothing;
can’t love or live in a wordless nothing.
Six months later
you’ll wake with bloodshot eyes,
frantically searching for
… the mind you lost
… the body you broke
… the heart you tore out.
Irrecoverable offerings to someone
whose existence was proven by their absence
and defined not by what they took,
but by what they made you want to give.
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 1:36 PM UTC
The First Time
*She was not a fresh faced
honey girl from my class.
Nor a woman who
took money to rid
college boys of their virginity.
She was experienced
and older than me
But lovely.
It did not happen
fumbling in the back of a car.
Or lay in the grass of a meadow
under a moonlit sky.
It was in her small walk up flat
up three flights of dimly lit stairs.
I can still feel my legs weaken
In anticipation of the unknown.
Inside the untidy table
had a full ashtray
A half bottle of red wine.
A Picasso reproduction
Gargoyled from the wall.
She was full of experiences.
That I could only imagine.
She pulls a strip of condoms
from her night table.
The bedroom window
open wide.
The summer breeze
whispered inside.
Hush Hush
It’s your time
It’s your time.
She took me softly.
Gently almost like a dream.
I cried out as my boyhood left me
draining into her
in its irrecoverable loss.
Outside the breeze
had turned to wind
Blowing my uncertainty and doubts
far Into the night.
She was my teacher
and I her avid student.
Later the door closed
as I left her.
Her memory now
Indelibly burned on my soul.*
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 7:11 PM UTC
You stood upon that pedestal, an MIT degree
In math; a research doctor of psychiatry
As for why
you decided
to take interest in me
I had no idea.
I was a lab rat, my life exploded
But for some reason you devoted
Time to me-- from my place
It was insanity; just in case
You gave me a number
Said call
If anything
happens.
In a week and a hundred pills I called
Days later in the ICU I awoke
Very alive but thinking that I broke
My life into irrecoverable pieces
But for some reason you visited.
First you shook your head and said-- well you said
‘You took a lot of medication.’
But at the end of the conversation
You promised you’d check up
Again.
And then, that was when
As I thought I’d used my second chances
Thought my life had made it’s last advances
And all that was left was downhill
Having passed the pinnacle
You shook my hand, from that pedestal
And so matter-of-factly said,
‘You’re going to do well.’
And that really stuck in my head.
The thought that I was salvageable
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 1:56 PM UTC
1: a sentimental yearning for a reality that isn't genuine
2: an irrecoverable condition for fantasy that evokes nostalgia or day dreams
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC
Some losses are Natural
Yours is too!
But,the cruel truth is
It's irrecoverable!
None can fulfill the gap
There's no way!
Even the Superior
Can't do!
You're immortal
Man is mortal
So you leave us!
But,your soul is evergreen
A true Artist you're!
You'll never die-
We'll keep you forever
In the core of our Heart!
Will never let you go-
Still miss You
Love you lot...<3...!
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 1:15 PM UTC
She was not a fresh faced
honey girl from my class.
Nor a woman who
took money to rid
college boys of their virginity.
It did not happen
fumbling in the back of a car.
Or lay in the grass of a meadow
under a moonlit sky.
It was in her small walk up flat
up three flights of dimly lit stairs.
I can still feel my legs weaken
In anticipation of the unknown.
Inside the untidy table
had a full ashtray
A half bottle of red wine.
A Picasso reproduction
Gargoyled from the wall.
She was full of experiences.
That I could only imagine.
She pulls a strip of condoms
from her night table.
The bedroom window
open wide.
The summer breeze
whispered
Hush Hush
It’s your time
It’s your time.
She took me softly.
Gently almost like a dream.
I cried out as my boyhood left me.
Draining into her
in its irrecoverable loss.
Outside the breeze
had turned to a cool wind
Blowing my uncertainty and doubts
far Into the night.
She was my life teacher
and I her avid student.
Later the door closed
as I left her.
Her memory now
Indelibly burned on my soul.
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 2:55 PM UTC
*She was not a fresh faced
honey girl from my class.
Nor a woman who
took money to rid
College boys of their virginity.
It did not happen
Fumbling in the back of a car.
Or lay in the grass of meadow
under a moonlit sky.
It was in her small walk up flat
up three flights of dimly lit stairs.
I can still my legs weaken
In anticipation of the unknown.
Inside the untidy table
had a full ashtray
A half bottle of red wine.
A Picasso reproduction
Gargoyles from the wall.
She was full of experiences.
That I could only imagine.
She pulls a strip of condoms
from her night table.
The bedroom window
open wide
the summer breeze
whispered
Hush Hush
It’s your time
It’s your time.
She took me softly.
Gently almost like a dream.
I cried out as my boyhood left me
Draining into her
in its irrecoverable loss.
Outside the breeze
had turned to wind
Blowing my uncertainty and doubts
Far Into the night.
She was my teacher
And I her avid student.
Later the door closed
As I left her.
Her memory now
Indelibly burned on my soul.*
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 5:54 AM UTC
*She was not a fresh faced
honey girl from my class.
Nor a woman who
took money to rid
college boys of their virginity.
It did not happen
fumbling in the back of a car.
Or lay in the grass of a meadow
under a moonlit sky.
It was in her small walk up flat
up three flights of dimly lit stairs.
I can still feel my legs weaken
in anticipation of the unknown.
Inside the untidy table
had a full ashtray
a half bottle of red wine.
A Picasso reproduction
Gargoyled from the wall.
She was full of experiences.
That I could only imagine.
She pulls a strip of condoms
from her night table.
The bedroom window
open wide
the summer breeze
whispered
Hush Hush.
It’s your time
It’s your time.
She took me softly.
Gently almost like a dream.
I cried out as my boyhood left me
draining into her
in its irrecoverable loss.
Outside the breeze
had turned to wind
Blowing my
uncertainty and doubts
far Into the night.
She was my teacher
and I her avid student.
Later the door closed
as I left her.
Her memory now
indelibly burned
onto my soul.*
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 6:01 AM UTC
*The mid-summer heat
seared the sand like fire.
She walked by me
stopping at my Cabanas shade.
May I she asked?
So young
lithe and beautiful.
Of course I say
but the breaking waves
and sea breeze whisper
Danger......Danger...Danger
Beware …Beware …Beware.
I have not yet tasted
the pleasures of a woman.
Can this be the time?
The time for me.
My racing heart whispers
quietly.... softly
hush hush ...be still.
The salty sea breezes
are whispering
Let it be… it’s your time
…Let it be.
Later I writhed under her.
Between heaven and the sand.
My hand holding hers
As she led me
through the door of manhood.
My boyhood left me
draining into her
as I cried out
in its irrecoverable loss.
The waves rolled relentlessly
breaking on the shore.
Undulating to her rhythm
I feel her soft gentle gifts
aching inside my body
is this it .......is this it?
My soul asks
Then the roar
of the crashing waves
on the rocky shore.
The tender moment
As close as two
humans can be.
Emotions older
than time itself.
I hold her
as a woman and lover.
She rises from me
almost shyly
and says
Thank you.
A seabird cries above
Don’t leave , Don’t Leave.
But her footprints
are washing away
in the foam.
Just her indelible
memory remains
Imprinted forever
like a tattoo
on my young heart.*
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 4:58 PM UTC
*
*Years pass
not the pains
Howsoever one tries
the yearning remains...
The heart and the mind
they often cross
Their memories surpass
Irrecoverable is the soul loss...*
*
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 4:38 AM UTC