"maladapted" poems
There is nothing here
Not the façade of a façade
Can’t you see our idea fading?
We thought we were Hobbes’ Leviathan
The modern alchemists of state
We’re nothing more than rodents!
Scurrilous, maladapted membranes
Spewing from democracy forth
Ought they to encapsulate us?
They must needs encapsulate the naïve!
Whiling away at the trough as though livestock
I’m to be ground on the wheel regardless;
Nay, stretched on the rack of modernity!
By the comforts of progress and superficiality
Sought after as if vital
By the people, “We the people!”
Rallying cry for throngs, imprisoning themselves
With society, a subtle hocus pocus
The trite, aged argument
Of those who’d force you build your very tenement
Paying rent to breathe,
Countless yet believe
Tripartite consumer, greed and slavery
Surrounding you and me
Separating ignorance from squalor
In a ghetto of the mind
You're right, we're alright
Jul 28, 2010
Jul 28, 2010 at 9:11 PM UTC
Black, (literally)
Dark, (no, not at all)
Husbands, (Two)
Faithful, (for good and bad)
Pretty, (well she's got two husbands, you'd have to be decent)
Strong, (magic wise, I don't see how those flimsy muscles could lift anything)
Determined, (to ****
Evil, (well hello, Voldemort is her master)
Sister, (a malfunctioning one)
Misunderstood, (wait how did that get in there)
Maladapted schemer, (well come on if you didn't know that, read)
Loyal, (isn't that faithful as well?)
Insane, (50%)
Bellatrix.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
Dulled passion, lingering fire.
Sailing across my empty desires.
Strayed away from my paths for so long.
Sustained pretender believing nothings wrong.
Prolonged suffering, becoming my new friend.
Tedious tendencies paying dividends.
Lost everything by gambling.
Red-eyed monster got a hold of me.
And I...
Just wanna break away.
Just want to feel ok.
Just want to be sober some day.
But today is not that day.
But today I’m just a slave.
But today I hate myself.
Drinking my pain away.
Tossing and turning, losing sleep.
Pegged to the ground, as a black sheep.
Melancholy Malcolm, maladapted mongrel.
Maliciously troublesome, painted as hostile.
And I...
Just wanna break away.
Just want to feel ok.
Just want to be sober some day.
But today is not that day.
But today I’m just a slave.
But today I hate myself.
Drinking my shame away.
Thinking back at the times I laughed.
When reality made sense to me.
Thinking back at the times I cried.
When reality came undone for me.
Thinking back at the time I screamed.
When people kept leaving me.
Thinking back at the time I said nothing.
When my words could’ve changed something.
Wishing I could break away.
Wishing I could say I’m ok.
Wishing I could be sober some day.
But today is not that day.
But today I’m just a slave.
But today I hate myself.
Drinking my life away.
Apr 27, 2019
Apr 27, 2019 at 3:06 AM UTC
In the waist high soy fields
We laugh like choking dogs
On the image of the hand that yields
So we worship in restless monologues
In the ice cold bite of the frozen lake
We encounter the spirit of naught
Naught which has given, naught that we will take
And the holler seems farther with every thought
I am a soul sick woman in the body of a child
A child with formlessness untoward
I wish to run as fast as the stallions, bucking wild
But I’m stuck here in the yard
When you push your eyes to the horizon
Do you feel that stirring, longing, yearning
Deep and tender heartless feeling
Leaves the mind inside the body reeling
When you tip your face up to the endless sun
Do you feel that wars inside we only narrowly won
The civil conflict, the trenches, blood in buckets subdued
The maladapted, anachronistic, bad attitude
I am forgiven for all my double-hearted shame
Tell me, if you can, what is my name
Sep 3, 2019
Sep 3, 2019 at 10:32 AM UTC
The walrus lacks
a rudimentary understanding
of the relationship
between seasonal temperatures
and the amount of sea ice
generated annually
in the northern hemisphere,
and cannot formulate
even a basic hypothesis
that might draw a link between
the lack of sea ice and
a massive surge in coastal overcrowding
among those of his own kind.
Nor could we expect the walrus
to comprehend that
this overcrowding has become so severe that
many walruses are continually driven
to seek out higher and higher ground,
and may suddenly find themselves
precariously perched atop the tall, frozen, rocky cliffs
of the Russian arctic coast,
hundreds of meters above the sea,
as their pinniped flippers
lose traction, and the rocks and gravel
beneath them give way
under their considerable bulk.
It would be a bridge too far
for us to expect
that the walrus might understand
the anatomy of even his own eye
such that he would know
that the curvature of its lens
is well-suited for underwater vision,
but is, in fact, maladapted
for making spatial judgements
while on land.
And yet,
we are aware of all of these things,
of this horrifying confluence of circumstances
for which we’re at least partly to blame,
and from which the walrus
now finds himself unable to escape.
And we watch it all unfold silently,
so passively:
those hulking ruins
as they tumble down
the cliff faces,
one by one,
wild-eyed,
terrified,
bewildered and breaking
in their final moments.
Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 3:14 AM UTC
Tell me of the mystified Isle's,
the dampening subheader
splotching itself upon
a concrete rug
that calls itself
"AMAZING.
SO PATHED, SO SMOOTH, SO GRANITE,
GRANDEUR, AND GRENADE-THROWN
A M A Z I N G G G G."
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 3:53 PM UTC
My contemporary stance to regain a grip on my Daily struggle to deal with Life's problems with a sober conscious is becoming a nuisance due to the fact I keep running away to use drugs so I can deal with time on time's slow flow of ride of passage. Am becoming a more cunning, manipulative, maladapted individual since deep down it hurts to say I am happy being a functional drug user...but this is a double load of struggle because I want someone to sometimes make me feel like I matter and that I am someone to someone else and that I can fight thru my devilish impulses to intoxicate my system. I am becoming mentally irritated with the constant thought to self-medicate and slide by Life with a morbid addiction and I do admit DEFEAT to this substances and lifestyle but why can't I get the motivation to dedicate my time in investing in sobriety? I truly need to take a hard look at why am still escaping my problems and why am still making the wrong decisions and choosing the easy way out with not dealing with my feelings and emotions in a healthy manner. Frankly, I want to quit using drugs at some point in my life but am having trouble abstaining from drug use at the current moment because I do truly love to alleviate all my mental disorder symptoms and enjoy the feeling of calmness and stillness of all my chemical imbalances seeming as if every time I choose to use I am put in a balance within my brain. Nevertheless, I have realized that using drugs does NOT cure me but make things worse in the long run. Suppressed by old whispers from my younger days when I used to use without getting addicted but now this substances have grown on me and I have become an addict to a degree. Sometimes I ponder in thought and imagine myself in front of God's throne pleading my cause like a rugged beggar to be heard by the Most High and all I want is a way out a way of escape from my drug use...Please Lord am at my end I want the struggle to stop...I admit I need your aid guidance and healing let this poem be heard for all I am asking is your saving grace and deliverance. In Jesus name Amen!
Jan 1, 2020
Jan 1, 2020 at 6:52 AM UTC