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"malfunctioning" poems
My friend and I talk about it Neighborhood got decimated this year One after another the corners of community are gone We touch the elder memories as one might touch a head in blessing as loved ones pass We linger longest over John Found dead after ten hot days by other-worldly hazmat crew flanked by cruisers with their special, yellow truck and zipper bags ...found 'im glasses folded neatly on the night stand in his jammies all tucked into bed No one thought it strange that strange young guy would die already decomposing in his head Lost among his personal effects his fleet of rusting cars and half-assed projects Deck tacked to garage his herds of “pets” Easy to pretend he wasn't really there between jail stints or some imagined threat or theft of crap haunted by the shadows of his persecutors caught in motion lights and cameras' blinding evidence of jungle-jumble and malfunctioning alarms going off in the wind Everyone's out to get his stuff We could dismiss him-- mostly sorta ...except for times he mowed his grass at night or hand-built “the lunatic tower” just for mom from scavenged scraps and hammered hours power-sawed through the housing codes and horror of the neighbors... ...Such a special spectacle... ******* crazy-- John! He was enough for one day at a time like when he flung that threatening bolder on bilco doors for percussive effect "Get off my fuckin' property!” (not using his “inside voice") “Next time, that'll be your head!! He announces his intent to not get mad, behave himself to call the cops on me instead Fake-dialing While his mother screams in dread “John is off his meds!” My phone is set to speed dial 911 ____ “How did we miss this? How did we not miss him those quiet days?” How we miss him now How quiet
0
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 4:18 PM UTC
Every Neighborhood Has One
My friend and I talk about it Neighborhood got decimated this year One after another the corners of community are gone We touch the elder memories as one might touch a head in blessing as loved ones pass We linger longest over John Found dead after ten hot days by other-worldly hazmat crew flanked by cruisers with their special, yellow truck and zipper bags ...found 'im glasses folded neatly on the night stand in his jammies all tucked into bed No one thought it strange that strange young guy would die already decomposing in his head Lost among his personal effects his fleet of rusting cars and half-assed projects Deck tacked to garage his herds of “pets” Easy to pretend he wasn't really there between jail stints or some imagined threat or theft of crap haunted by the shadows of his persecutors caught in motion lights and cameras' blinding evidence of jungle-jumble and malfunctioning alarms going off in the wind Everyone's out to get his stuff We could dismiss him-- mostly sorta ...except for times he mowed his grass at night or hand-built “the lunatic tower” just for mom from scavenged scraps and hammered hours power-sawed through the housing codes and horror of the neighbors... ...Such a special spectacle... ******* crazy-- John! He was enough for one day at a time like when he flung that threatening bolder on bilco doors for percussive effect "Get off my fuckin' property!” (not using his “inside voice") “Next time, that'll be your head!! He announces his intent to not get mad, behave himself to call the cops on me instead Fake-dialing While his mother screams in dread “John is off his meds!” My phone is set to speed dial 911 ____ “How did we miss this? How did we not miss him those quiet days?” How we miss him now How quiet
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70
If i could, I would, Carefully take you apart, And put you back together, Piece, by fragile piece, And i would not cease, Until the job was done. Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes, Until the cries that had chained you down, Had been removed from the ground. And if i could, i would, Take my tools And attentively drill out Your insecurities, All those flaws, you believe to be Impurities And ***** in self acceptance so tight, So that never again at night, Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself, As you sparkle in the moonlight. And if i could, i would, Clamp together, Your hopes and dreams, Your self belief, And tie them together at the seams With double knots, So that you never forgot, how Capable you are. I'd take each glittering star, and plant them in the pupils of your eyes, So that each time you cry You'd be reminded of the beauty inside, Of you. And if i could, i would, Paint over your frame work, And tentatively cover up those scars, So you'd never again see the hurt, And never doubt Just how perfectly imperfect you are. And if i could, i would, Saw away your sorrows So when you thought of your tomorrows, You weren't filled with dread, You were filled with joy and hope And optimism instead, So that before you went to bed, You were not filled with self defeating thoughts, Ruminating inside, that pretty little head. And if i could, i would, Weld securely into place, A genuinely happy smile, Across your dainty face, And a hand in yours, So you'd never have to brace Anything alone. And if i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last. And if i could, i would, Attach wings to your spine, So there'd never be a time, That you'd stumble and fall You'd stand tall, You'd rise above it all. And if i could, i would, Take the lonely shadows of your heart, Rip them apart And blaze them, In a light so bright It'd never die out, You would never again doubt All that you are, And all that you can be. And if i could, i would, I'd set you free.
0
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
toolbox and tactics for the mentally ill
If i could, I would, Carefully take you apart, And put you back together, Piece, by fragile piece, And i would not cease, Until the job was done. Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes, Until the cries that had chained you down, Had been removed from the ground. And if i could, i would, Take my tools And attentively drill out Your insecurities, All those flaws, you believe to be Impurities And ***** in self acceptance so tight, So that never again at night, Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself, As you sparkle in the moonlight. And if i could, i would, Clamp together, Your hopes and dreams, Your self belief, And tie them together at the seams With double knots, So that you never forgot, how Capable you are. I'd take each glittering star, and plant them in the pupils of your eyes, So that each time you cry You'd be reminded of the beauty inside, Of you. And if i could, i would, Paint over your frame work, And tentatively cover up those scars, So you'd never again see the hurt, And never doubt Just how perfectly imperfect you are. And if i could, i would, Saw away your sorrows So when you thought of your tomorrows, You weren't filled with dread, You were filled with joy and hope And optimism instead, So that before you went to bed, You were not filled with self defeating thoughts, Ruminating inside, that pretty little head. And if i could, i would, Weld securely into place, A genuinely happy smile, Across your dainty face, And a hand in yours, So you'd never have to brace Anything alone. And if i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last. And if i could, i would, Attach wings to your spine, So there'd never be a time, That you'd stumble and fall You'd stand tall, You'd rise above it all. And if i could, i would, Take the lonely shadows of your heart, Rip them apart And blaze them, In a light so bright It'd never die out, You would never again doubt All that you are, And all that you can be. And if i could, i would, I'd set you free.
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87
If i could, I would, Carefully take you apart, And put you back together, Piece, by fragile piece, And i would not cease, Until the job was done. Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes, Until the cries that had chained you down, Had been removed from the ground. And if i could, i would, Take my tools And attentively drill out Your insecurities, All those flaws, you believe to be Impurities And ***** in self acceptance so tight, So that never again at night, Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself, As you sparkle in the moonlight. And if i could, i would, Clamp together, Your hopes and dreams, Your self belief, And tie them together at the seams With double knots, So that you never forgot, how Capable you are. I'd take each glittering star, and plant them in the pupils of your eyes, So that each time you cry You'd be reminded of the beauty inside, Of you. And if i could, i would, Paint over your frame work, And tentatively cover up those scars, So you'd never again see the hurt, And never doubt Just how perfectly imperfect you are. And if i could, i would, Saw away your sorrows So when you thought of your tomorrows, You weren't filled with dread, You were filled with joy and hope And optimism instead, So that before you went to bed, You were not filled with self defeating thoughts, Ruminating inside, that pretty little head. And if i could, i would, Weld securely into place, A genuinely happy smile, Across your dainty face, And a hand in yours, So you'd never have to brace Anything alone. And if i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last. And if i could, i would, Attach wings to your spine, So there'd never be a time, That you'd stumble and fall You'd stand tall. And if i could, i would, Take the lonely shadows of your heart, Rip them apart And blaze them, In a light so bright It'd never die out, You would never again doubt All that you are, And all that you can be. And if i could, i would, I'd set you free.
0
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC
Toolbox and tactics for the mentally ill
If i could, I would, Carefully take you apart, And put you back together, Piece, by fragile piece, And i would not cease, Until the job was done. Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes, Until the cries that had chained you down, Had been removed from the ground. And if i could, i would, Take my tools And attentively drill out Your insecurities, All those flaws, you believe to be Impurities And ***** in self acceptance so tight, So that never again at night, Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself, As you sparkle in the moonlight. And if i could, i would, Clamp together, Your hopes and dreams, Your self belief, And tie them together at the seams With double knots, So that you never forgot, how Capable you are. I'd take each glittering star, and plant them in the pupils of your eyes, So that each time you cry You'd be reminded of the beauty inside, Of you. And if i could, i would, Paint over your frame work, And tentatively cover up those scars, So you'd never again see the hurt, And never doubt Just how perfectly imperfect you are. And if i could, i would, Saw away your sorrows So when you thought of your tomorrows, You weren't filled with dread, You were filled with joy and hope And optimism instead, So that before you went to bed, You were not filled with self defeating thoughts, Ruminating inside, that pretty little head. And if i could, i would, Weld securely into place, A genuinely happy smile, Across your dainty face, And a hand in yours, So you'd never have to brace Anything alone. And if i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last. And if i could, i would, Attach wings to your spine, So there'd never be a time, That you'd stumble and fall You'd stand tall. And if i could, i would, Take the lonely shadows of your heart, Rip them apart And blaze them, In a light so bright It'd never die out, You would never again doubt All that you are, And all that you can be. And if i could, i would, I'd set you free.
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86
Freddy singing Chica eating Bonnie rocking Me backstage thinking to myself "they would never accept me, always alone" I was the one who was mostly left out of the gang, a lonely pirate fox. I did enjoy the laughter and smiles of children, eating pizza and playing. But I always wanted to be one of them, always wanted to be, well, not alone. I wanted to be on stage with freddy and the rest of the gang to be adored But I'm just a lonely fox, standing on a Lonely corner, behind a lonely curtain. But today was different, today was going to make my life change forever, not better but worse.        Freddy and the gang were doing the usual thing they do every day, introducing them selfs, then introducing me. I was always prepared to see the smiles on the children's faces, hearing the laughter of joy here at Freddy Fazbear's pizza. As I stepped out of the curtains, I welcomed the children to pirates cove. I would always greet them with a smile and tell them to have fun. Today, an unusual little girl came in. It was probably her first time here, because I've never seen her before. As I talked the little girl walked up to me and started asking her mother a lot of questions about me. I realized that my owners haven't changed my battery because I was malfunctioning and my battery was dying. An employee came up to the girl and told her not to get close to me. She got mad and ignored him. That got me a little upset. As my battery was dying, I was talking slower and slower by the second. The employee then asked the girls mom to make her child not get close to me, but she ignored him as well. Then there was something that really got me upset. The little girl started to make fun of me. I got really mad, but that was the end of it. My battery had died, I had fallen off the stage, and all I could remember was me hearing a loud crunch,blood in my mouth,people screaming and crying and seeing a little headless girl right beside me.     When I had woken up, there were no smiling children. No happy parents. No singing and laughter. The place was completely empty. I looked around for anyone to be there, but all there was, was Freddy and the gang starring at me in anger. I walked out of my stage place and wandered around. I when to the entrance and saw a sign that said "closed by the end of the year". I became sad and walked back to my lonely stage. As I walked I noticed that Freddy, Chica and Bonnie were waiting for me there. They grabbed me and threw me to the ground. The beet me up tore me to shreds. I couldn't take it so I let out a loud scream. They stopped, then we all hear someone coming. Freddy, Chica and Bonnie run back on their stage. An employee comes in with a sign in his hand. He came towards me and put a sign on my stage. It read, " Sorry, out of order".
0
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
The bite of 87' ( a five nights at freddys story)
Freddy singing Chica eating Bonnie rocking Me backstage thinking to myself "they would never accept me, always alone" I was the one who was mostly left out of the gang, a lonely pirate fox. I did enjoy the laughter and smiles of children, eating pizza and playing. But I always wanted to be one of them, always wanted to be, well, not alone. I wanted to be on stage with freddy and the rest of the gang to be adored But I'm just a lonely fox, standing on a Lonely corner, behind a lonely curtain. But today was different, today was going to make my life change forever, not better but worse.        Freddy and the gang were doing the usual thing they do every day, introducing them selfs, then introducing me. I was always prepared to see the smiles on the children's faces, hearing the laughter of joy here at Freddy Fazbear's pizza. As I stepped out of the curtains, I welcomed the children to pirates cove. I would always greet them with a smile and tell them to have fun. Today, an unusual little girl came in. It was probably her first time here, because I've never seen her before. As I talked the little girl walked up to me and started asking her mother a lot of questions about me. I realized that my owners haven't changed my battery because I was malfunctioning and my battery was dying. An employee came up to the girl and told her not to get close to me. She got mad and ignored him. That got me a little upset. As my battery was dying, I was talking slower and slower by the second. The employee then asked the girls mom to make her child not get close to me, but she ignored him as well. Then there was something that really got me upset. The little girl started to make fun of me. I got really mad, but that was the end of it. My battery had died, I had fallen off the stage, and all I could remember was me hearing a loud crunch,blood in my mouth,people screaming and crying and seeing a little headless girl right beside me.     When I had woken up, there were no smiling children. No happy parents. No singing and laughter. The place was completely empty. I looked around for anyone to be there, but all there was, was Freddy and the gang starring at me in anger. I walked out of my stage place and wandered around. I when to the entrance and saw a sign that said "closed by the end of the year". I became sad and walked back to my lonely stage. As I walked I noticed that Freddy, Chica and Bonnie were waiting for me there. They grabbed me and threw me to the ground. The beet me up tore me to shreds. I couldn't take it so I let out a loud scream. They stopped, then we all hear someone coming. Freddy, Chica and Bonnie run back on their stage. An employee comes in with a sign in his hand. He came towards me and put a sign on my stage. It read, " Sorry, out of order".
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13
Take your thoughts to the sink, Pile them all up with the plates, Grimy and greasy Just like your mind Which you can scrub all you want With a sponge or a foam Since there's no difference Above sea level, But the residues will remain Staining your perfect little machine, Robotic, malfunctioning, Because manpower is always better Than a cold bin Where it is just you Echoing your asking everything Except for what you want Because cowardice and pride Are the oil of your psychomotor, Running, Missing, Out on those Who really don't need you in their lives, Let alone To do their dishes, If ever, in case, So what the hell are you still doing, Waiting for the suds to drain, Don't **** your brain Like this, Get a pen And replace the dishwashing liquid With real poison.
0
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC
Dishwasher Diaries
You aren’t broken, I am I am flawed I am malfunctioning I am defective, ugly, wrong I am mean, beyond repair Disgustingly bitter, like licking the outside of an orange, Disguised as a tempting delicious throbbing fruit of life. But in reality, I am insufficient, innutritious, A casualty no one wants to carry But I am so afraid that one day you will see This unfixable imperfection that is me And you will leave.
0
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
insecurities
My heart is malfunctioning and sends blood to my pupils. Now my heart lacks oxygen and all I see is pain. And through these blood shot eyes I can’t see a thing. If I ever love again, I won’t ever love the same. Have you ever seen oxygen filled, blood red tears? Have you ever felt pain run down your cheeks? I cry blood; I cry pain, through all life’s jeers. Not because I care and not because I’m weak. I cry blood tears because the hurt is beyond control. This pain exceeds pain and surpasses hurt. No I’m not sad, I don’t need to be consoled. I’m beyond, far far beyond the worst. Cry cry cry; untill I have no tears left. Hurt hurt hurt; until I feel no pain. The water dries, and blood sweats. I have nothing to lose and nothing to gain. Heart break, my heart has no ache. Heart broken, my heart has not been broken. Heart destroyed, no heart left to shake. It cannot be repaired, no longer is it open. As blood tears continue to leak. I lose all life, all feelings, and all patience. They see me, but they do not seek. I’m dead, and that’s an understatement.
0
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 2:45 PM UTC
I CRY BLOOD
If i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last.
0
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 6:10 AM UTC
Toolbox and tactics for the mentally ill
The machinesed drones droning ozones made of homogenised genes by replicants from clinical doctrines and empirical indulgences Soulless and efficient, bred for duties destructives Capitalist fodder, programmed ready for earth's **** Regulate as required, inputted subs with pigs hearts Made followers with voracious appetite for blood mechanised barbarians on leash with one track mix Human shire horses in designer shods and faulty gauges Manufactured manufacturers limited and corollated Factories, dormitories partnered with like, watered and bedded till tomorrow, audiod to the Sterling whip Given ample ales, keep blinded and chained Distract and cater to baser instincts, *** *** *** Free 'love' free *** valueless values, what values Enjoy kids must return to work desk seven on the dot Time is money, clogs and production waits for no man, do or your pleasures denied Money, money money, honey for bees, honey for drones Soulless, dehumanised, pale, aged at thirty, heart attacks next Vacuous ghost programmed dunces Malfunctioning entities devoid of humanity Superficial plasticated robots, destruction default Industrial pieces with industrial minds Chemicalized drunks with wired brains They roam around screaming freedom and power!
0
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC
Our Erstwhile Robots in Gucci......
If i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again,  With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last.
0
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 2:06 PM UTC
mental illness
i’m not another ****** card for your deck and bothering and trying is just another leap off a possible cliff except you have a blindfold around your eyes you may not know this but its cutting into your skin and the drops in mood seem steeper each time i return to this rabbit hole, just before it gets too dark is it really worth trying so hard on a continuous basis when your wings have been clipped ages ago why do we even bother then again why am i speaking on behalf of you? why do i even bother it’s always thunderstorms and rain with an occasional glimpse of sunshine that seems to be a welcoming party for the hurricane to think that i manage to mask my emotions so well i’m nearly fooled into thinking the same frightens me a bit take for granted to an extent i’ve become indifferent despite the fact it’s still behind my eyes close to malfunctioning but i can’t get it out of my system it’s like grasping sand in your palms and all you can do is observe as each grain slips from between your fingers - a great descent it’s just the reoccurring feel of never being good enough i do suppose whatever y’know
0
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
bother to not bother
Fire fire in the sky burned so bright burned so high how was I to know it was the end of time. Meteor predicted on its way flashed incandescent as it made its way, shattering into a million fragments atmosphere burning fires starting nuclear winter envious of its power. A lone figure on a hill never knew such loneliness as this, took your hand and one last kiss. The meteor bright brought the end of time rendering all of our fears, petty jealousies brutalities and stress our issues our loves irrelevant. If I had known this before freedom wouldn't have been that painted ******* ***** seductively calling to me for more - but could have been a moment before that meteor made its call. The fires have melted the stars have been renewed the planet continues its spinning around the sun the deepest ocean fishes continue evolution's marching orders while a cell phone alarm flips on and the icon shows "no signal" while beneath the rubble a malfunctioning relay finally finds that call made hours ago and the phone rings and rings beneath the ashen snow until the last silence no one is home. Mother Earth finally restored to its silence once again.
0
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
No More Water/The Fire Next Time
Teeth, rib cages Hearts, hipbones Broken thrones The enigmatic victory of horsefly contempt Condemned fireflies in midnight sky Social butterfly and awkward moments Forced to live with baited breath Exhale, inhale Suffocate withering strands of hope Embellished livestock Wall street cattle Compulsory impulse Genetic malfunctioning solitude The zenith is reached Downfall is all that’s left Watching with wonderment and sealed hearts
0
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 8:12 PM UTC
Untitled
You say, "This is awkward." The way most people point out that it's raining. It's obvious that yes, It is. Your hand is on the button and your eyes are on the ground and I'm waiting to go up while you're waiting to go down and it's funny. I wonder why you find this so awkward but I don't ask. Maybe it's because you wear coward so well and I, lioness, greet you well with grinning teeth and confidence. In this very moment, technology and its failure have become my new favorite elephant in the room, stomping about blindly, pushing its trunk into the space between us, I love this discomfort. I love the tension thick as rope. I love that you probably wish you could tie it around your neck right now. I stare directly into you because I love feeding the caged animal. I am an intentional catalyst for your internal, "Oh **** Is this what happens when there is too much weakness on one side for closure? When the scales shift to the right And the left falls completely? Does it make you uneasy that I still exist after you stopped talking to me? bless this malfunctioning, how I am grateful for the comedy for these few minutes of entertainment and your desperation hanging from your pockets, I could see it clearly, how awkward.
0
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 3:09 PM UTC
When the elevator won't close and you are standing in it awkwardly avoiding eye contact with me
Trauma lives on in our bodies In sometimes unexpected places It doesn’t just reside In the malfunctioning lump Of electrified meat Encased in my skull Each part of my body Seems independently determined To avoid To protect me from Vulnerable or defenceless moments When the speaker at a training event Asks the participants in the room To close their eyes Partake in a thought experiment The trauma resides in my eyelids Which I cannot will to shut I stare down at the floor Eyes open in unwilling resistance The simple act of closing them In a room full of strangers Is more than my body can bear When going on long car rides The trauma resides in my jaw Compulsively chewing gum To stop myself falling asleep In the passenger seat Maybe I can retain Some small semblance of control Over my body Over what happens to it As long as I remain awake As long as I remain alert The trauma resides In that small space near my nape Where your fingers curled That one time Sinking into my flesh Leaving marks for days On the rare occasions I let anyone close enough To touch me there It feels as though My entire spine erupts Shooting out jagged barbs of panic Isn’t it funny how we can train our brain To forget things To bury things where they cannot be retrieved But they will still linger on In another form Imprinted into our very bones and muscles Sometimes I find myself thinking How nice it will be To finally be free of this body Which stopped feeling like my own Long ago Do what you like with my body When I am dead I tell people As though They hadn’t already while I was alive
0
Nov 30, 2020
Nov 30, 2020 at 1:41 PM UTC
Trauma-tic
Trauma lives on in our bodies In sometimes unexpected places It doesn’t just reside In the malfunctioning lump Of electrified meat Encased in my skull Each part of my body Seems independently determined To avoid To protect me from Vulnerable or defenceless moments When the speaker at a training event Asks the participants in the room To close their eyes Partake in a thought experiment The trauma resides in my eyelids Which I cannot will to shut I stare down at the floor Eyes open in unwilling resistance The simple act of closing them In a room full of strangers Is more than my body can bear When going on long car rides The trauma resides in my jaw Compulsively chewing gum To stop myself falling asleep In the passenger seat Maybe I can retain Some small semblance of control Over my body Over what happens to it As long as I remain awake As long as I remain alert The trauma resides In that small space near my nape Where your fingers curled That one time Sinking into my flesh Leaving marks for days On the rare occasions I let anyone close enough To touch me there It feels as though My entire spine erupts Shooting out jagged barbs of panic Isn’t it funny how we can train our brain To forget things To bury things where they cannot be retrieved But they will still linger on In another form Imprinted into our very bones and muscles Sometimes I find myself thinking How nice it will be To finally be free of this body Which stopped feeling like my own Long ago Do what you like with my body When I am dead I tell people As though They hadn’t already while I was alive
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61
I literally just had a panic attack. It was scary. My heart began malfunctioning in my chest It was doing 150 beats per minute at best And all I did was thought of the possibility, that we'll never be. This is what you do to me. I spent, half and hour under the shower, Trying to get my breathing under control. In... out... in, out and hold.. Holding my breath in hope it would lower my heart rate, Before it was too late. I watch my chest flutter like humming bird wings, My chest, tensed violin strings, A melody I know too well. Symphonies and notes that tell, You are my heaven and my hell. Will someone please call the doctor?
0
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 5:34 PM UTC
Panic attack
she has taken a long term parking spot in my heart she is tye-dye in a three peice suit world she is a grip of smiles in a stash box that looks like a naked girl dancing in the rain she leaves footprints everywhere cause she hates shoes she has never owned a bra and she will be glad to show you shes not wearing one she just showed me...my oh my shes carnival fun and summer camp happy she saved my life when I had a heart attack and has a longterm parking spot in this old geezers heart she is a robust thinker and a deep ocean of stars when she is romancing she has a love in her for everyone and such high hopes for the coming days shes a grip of smiles in a long term parking spot is this old geezers hairy old malfunctioning heart *she bounces into my hospital room and jumps up ontop of me infront of four medical students grind grind grind woman is gonna make sure I go with a smile on*
0
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
long term parking
nor a fox not wise with claws and pipes a forests breath with death ripe just a day in paradise, that's all i pray. no fool for a price nor a herd for a prize malfunctioning slight chocked with parasites just a day in paradise, if it wasn't for today. spoiled thoughts and foiled spite caught then boxed with no air to bite lost and left, kept for the nights in transparent red herein painted quiet just a day in paradise, for the one who pays. in a stranger's head with debt of dice where heaven lays and the dead shall rise seven solemn days that'll never come twice mourning for prey by a mornings pride just a day in paradise, for a day in paradise if it wasn't for today. kissed by the fire shut with wire no word nor desire and made in ice broken prism's charm in arms of a lover born away and in white doused in hope and not a dime to pay no dream nor life just a day in paradise, and it'll never go away. where beauty slays and inferno hides dante's meal and a mountains might where a valley bleeds from a pelters diet melting the stones and people alike just a day in paradise, that's all there's to say. whence scars bleed opened far wide and the hour sleeps in fear and fright where words fail to tell and describe rotten and stale fighting the lights just a day in paradise, for the one who stayed. nor a fox not wise with claws and pipes a forest's breath with death ripe just a day in paradise, and that's all i pray.
0
Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 4:39 PM UTC
what shall you be in paradise ?
surrounding us: a billion stars in a time when a trip to mars is like walking around the block and captain kirk and mister spock are arguing about the prime directive. we’re beaming to a planet’s surface. now listen: i know about inverse tachyon beams i know about coded klingon screams i know about going to warp factor eight i know about redshirts' survival rate. (no. chance.) i’m beaming down with the main crew to the surface of minerva II we've got a malfunctioning interstellar transceiver which is distressing-- dysgraphing? dismantling… …i don't know. scotty said it was defective. so we’re on this planet, standing on one side of a thick forest packed with monster janeks, starfleet says we need to fix this thing yesterday, and we’re in a panic— and **** it, mccoy is a doctor, not a lumberjack, and kirk says we should just burn through the middle with phasers, and spock says we must preserve respect for all life forms no matter the situation. now please remember kirk’s the captain. that means he runs this show but kirk always listens to spock, so we spend two days walking through the forest. surrounding us: a billion trees in a place where a strange disease is rare as feathers in a flock and captain kirk and mister spock are arguing about the prime directive. halfway through this dark-lit trip things go wrong (obviously) and an alien with shellac for skin captures the captain. said alien grabs a vine, ascends into the canopy of the trees, and for one glorious moment i believe kirk’s the dead guy in this episode, not me! but spock, in his calm and logical vulcan voice, orders us to exercise any necessary force to recover the captain. translation: **** EVERYTHING. JUST GET KIRK BACK. we reach the janek village. being a good redshirt, i rush in, phaser blasting, ready to complete the heroic rescue of our captain— and get killed instantly. as i was dying, i heard the sound of thousands of janeks dying beside me saw spock help kirk off the ground and the last words I heard were theirs: “captain, are you in need of immediate medical attention?” “nah, spock, i’m fine—” “mr. scott. the captain is hurt. beam us aboard immediately.” one’s arm over the other’s shoulders, they vanished. surrounding them: a billion stars in a time when a trip to mars is like walking around the block and captain kirk and mister spock are arguing about the prime directive— but the prime directive was never the real objective.
0
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 10:30 PM UTC
a redshirt's perspective on the prime directive
surrounding us: a billion stars in a time when a trip to mars is like walking around the block and captain kirk and mister spock are arguing about the prime directive. we’re beaming to a planet’s surface. now listen: i know about inverse tachyon beams i know about coded klingon screams i know about going to warp factor eight i know about redshirts' survival rate. (no. chance.) i’m beaming down with the main crew to the surface of minerva II we've got a malfunctioning interstellar transceiver which is distressing-- dysgraphing? dismantling… …i don't know. scotty said it was defective. so we’re on this planet, standing on one side of a thick forest packed with monster janeks, starfleet says we need to fix this thing yesterday, and we’re in a panic— and **** it, mccoy is a doctor, not a lumberjack, and kirk says we should just burn through the middle with phasers, and spock says we must preserve respect for all life forms no matter the situation. now please remember kirk’s the captain. that means he runs this show but kirk always listens to spock, so we spend two days walking through the forest. surrounding us: a billion trees in a place where a strange disease is rare as feathers in a flock and captain kirk and mister spock are arguing about the prime directive. halfway through this dark-lit trip things go wrong (obviously) and an alien with shellac for skin captures the captain. said alien grabs a vine, ascends into the canopy of the trees, and for one glorious moment i believe kirk’s the dead guy in this episode, not me! but spock, in his calm and logical vulcan voice, orders us to exercise any necessary force to recover the captain. translation: **** EVERYTHING. JUST GET KIRK BACK. we reach the janek village. being a good redshirt, i rush in, phaser blasting, ready to complete the heroic rescue of our captain— and get killed instantly. as i was dying, i heard the sound of thousands of janeks dying beside me saw spock help kirk off the ground and the last words I heard were theirs: “captain, are you in need of immediate medical attention?” “nah, spock, i’m fine—” “mr. scott. the captain is hurt. beam us aboard immediately.” one’s arm over the other’s shoulders, they vanished. surrounding them: a billion stars in a time when a trip to mars is like walking around the block and captain kirk and mister spock are arguing about the prime directive— but the prime directive was never the real objective.
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56
Sometimes, I don't know what is the problem of my so called colleagues... There are so many issues worth tackling in the movie industry where as a movie maker u invest so much finance, time and energy and get back very little or nothing... Yet, what concerns our youths is celebrations, parties, function attendance and all... The so called movie ambassadors came up at the period of political campaign... Will this gathering still stand after they are bn used for political campaigns... That's a question that I'm sure can't b answered... D crazy aspect, s dt every name now goes first with Ambassador lagbaja or Ambassador tamedu... So crazy.... Rebranding starts from our selves... No group whatsoever, has d power to influence a corrupt, mis-managed, malfunctioning industry that needs urgent attention... I'm surprised to even find respected movie makers sleeping and putting heads in same direction... If we want to speak in one voice, I believe... There's an existing body, when d music sector got its branding and uplifted its current face to d very level its today, D's were not d measures and procedures takn.... Even in Hollywood, I have nvr heard of Ambassador Nicolas Cage, Ambassador Angelina Jolie etc... Neither in bollyhood have I heard of Ambassador Shakiru Khan or Ambassador John Abraham. What a pity..., even the newly experienced movie makers that doesn't even know what D's game is all about bear Ambassadors... I hear, there's fine for misbehaviour at events and all... Hmmmmmm, those that have sumfn upstairs, let them start thinking... Don't b used for sumfn that u will end up not benefitting and later b d glory of sum people that knows where this is going and the aim behind it.... However, if the motive is truly for d upliftment of D's great job that we all do with great passion... God help us all.... Tokunbo Awoga
0
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 10:23 AM UTC
Corruption @ d movie industries - 9geria
Sometimes, I don't know what is the problem of my so called colleagues... There are so many issues worth tackling in the movie industry where as a movie maker u invest so much finance, time and energy and get back very little or nothing... Yet, what concerns our youths is celebrations, parties, function attendance and all... The so called movie ambassadors came up at the period of political campaign... Will this gathering still stand after they are bn used for political campaigns... That's a question that I'm sure can't b answered... D crazy aspect, s dt every name now goes first with Ambassador lagbaja or Ambassador tamedu... So crazy.... Rebranding starts from our selves... No group whatsoever, has d power to influence a corrupt, mis-managed, malfunctioning industry that needs urgent attention... I'm surprised to even find respected movie makers sleeping and putting heads in same direction... If we want to speak in one voice, I believe... There's an existing body, when d music sector got its branding and uplifted its current face to d very level its today, D's were not d measures and procedures takn.... Even in Hollywood, I have nvr heard of Ambassador Nicolas Cage, Ambassador Angelina Jolie etc... Neither in bollyhood have I heard of Ambassador Shakiru Khan or Ambassador John Abraham. What a pity..., even the newly experienced movie makers that doesn't even know what D's game is all about bear Ambassadors... I hear, there's fine for misbehaviour at events and all... Hmmmmmm, those that have sumfn upstairs, let them start thinking... Don't b used for sumfn that u will end up not benefitting and later b d glory of sum people that knows where this is going and the aim behind it.... However, if the motive is truly for d upliftment of D's great job that we all do with great passion... God help us all.... Tokunbo Awoga
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1
We cannot call it my "mind" today. It's better defined as a malfunctioning mess of kaleidoscopic hiccups— untimed bursts of glitter, and mismatched shapes. Curves clash with angles, overlap, transform, repeat, until the nonsense makes sense; until the noise becomes a soothing hum. Without warning, the improper becomes the most mouthwatering idea we've had the pleasure to rouse. Composed of little ten-second films of us, bare-skinned in low light, shifting in tempting tessellations that bump and spiral in heightening rhythms just behind my eyes. Such thoughts were never meant for a box— rather a shape more taunted and tantric.   These. My wax-dipped daydreams that do not beg a single sip of permission.
0
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 3:14 PM UTC
mad as a march hare
I really want to say I hope you're okay. I see something on your face, a familiar grimace. I want to tell you, I suffer from mental illness. And all too well, I can recognize your pain; I too, have struggled under the overpowering strain; The suffering caused by a malfunctioning brain. I see how you've started to avoid and withdraw. I see enormous stress in the tightness of your jaw. I see you grasping, desperate for some alleviation, from this curse of complete anguish and frustration. I see you like this not because I wish to pry. In you, I see myself. Allow me to clarify. I have been where you are, totally lost and alone. Hiding from friends and family, ignoring my phone. There were many times I felt held together only by thread. Eventually I decided that my only option was to be dead. But there were no lights at the end of any tunnels. The attempt failed, and I continued my struggles. Then someone reached out a hand for me, offering somewhere safe for me to be. Longing for relief, feeling defeated, I said yes. And looking at me now, you would never guess, the darkness that dwelled deep in my head. Today I'm better, and quite glad I'm not dead. So, I'm here, should you ever want to talk. Please, feel free, tell me to go take a walk. But I swear, my intentions are honest and kind. I want to help you take back control of your mind. This is just a hand held out, from me to you. I urge you to take it, and I'll help you through. Peer to peer, I'm offering you solace. If ever you need me, I'll be there, I promise.
0
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 4:29 PM UTC
Hey, Can We Talk?
I really want to say I hope you're okay. I see something on your face, a familiar grimace. I want to tell you, I suffer from mental illness. And all too well, I can recognize your pain; I too, have struggled under the overpowering strain; The suffering caused by a malfunctioning brain. I see how you've started to avoid and withdraw. I see enormous stress in the tightness of your jaw. I see you grasping, desperate for some alleviation, from this curse of complete anguish and frustration. I see you like this not because I wish to pry. In you, I see myself. Allow me to clarify. I have been where you are, totally lost and alone. Hiding from friends and family, ignoring my phone. There were many times I felt held together only by thread. Eventually I decided that my only option was to be dead. But there were no lights at the end of any tunnels. The attempt failed, and I continued my struggles. Then someone reached out a hand for me, offering somewhere safe for me to be. Longing for relief, feeling defeated, I said yes. And looking at me now, you would never guess, the darkness that dwelled deep in my head. Today I'm better, and quite glad I'm not dead. So, I'm here, should you ever want to talk. Please, feel free, tell me to go take a walk. But I swear, my intentions are honest and kind. I want to help you take back control of your mind. This is just a hand held out, from me to you. I urge you to take it, and I'll help you through. Peer to peer, I'm offering you solace. If ever you need me, I'll be there, I promise.
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33
Where is the terror please in a blameless mind Show me the pain and fears in a brimful loving heart Find me the nightmares 'n demons in blessed slumber Wish me the tears in pious gratitudes real and plenty Produce a charge sheet of dark deeds and secrets hidden Bring witnesses of a stained criminal past and stolen items Front me a past lover with tales of **** or ****** misdeeds Show me anybody truly implicating me in any foul deeds Ask my betrothed of ever knowing me drunk and disabled Dig out any associations of me with friends of ill-repute Point a day I conducted myself disgracefully 'n disrespectfully Stand out a neighbour I went begging and borrowing from Twirling taunting is nowt but delusions of ****** fantasists Nothing to do with one devoid of fears and guilt of the neurotics Show us the happy contented one who gives time to mudslinging Even the most basic of intelligence tells us this is an impossibility There are nasties out there kicking a poor policewoman in the head There are repugnant foreign Taxi-drivers prostituting teen girls about There are hate filled Terrorist willing to **** innocents unflinching While our deranged think school playground antics is all they're worth These are the ones that salivate in front of computer screens Unwashed Keyboard cowards parading malfunctioning brains Attention and ambition lacking deficits sad subhumans waiting to be fed How can wasted western fodders impact on my consciousness or even my subconscious Those by their evident actions already show they lack rationality, intelligence or understanding Inadequates whose only recourse is to showcase their inferiority in pained envy and jealousy by trying to bully Insignificant runts who can't better themselves despite opportunities abound Dr Livingstone come see what your children from your Great Empire has become You told our forefathers you came from the very cradle of Civilisation A land of freedom and great knowledge How come now your childrens are pathetic ignorant irrational insecure deluded cowards What to do with morons other than to pitifully toss them a morsel of our talents once a while and laugh as they feed hungrily You gotta laugh!
0
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 10:36 PM UTC
Here Sheba..Here Rover....!
Where is the terror please in a blameless mind Show me the pain and fears in a brimful loving heart Find me the nightmares 'n demons in blessed slumber Wish me the tears in pious gratitudes real and plenty Produce a charge sheet of dark deeds and secrets hidden Bring witnesses of a stained criminal past and stolen items Front me a past lover with tales of **** or ****** misdeeds Show me anybody truly implicating me in any foul deeds Ask my betrothed of ever knowing me drunk and disabled Dig out any associations of me with friends of ill-repute Point a day I conducted myself disgracefully 'n disrespectfully Stand out a neighbour I went begging and borrowing from Twirling taunting is nowt but delusions of ****** fantasists Nothing to do with one devoid of fears and guilt of the neurotics Show us the happy contented one who gives time to mudslinging Even the most basic of intelligence tells us this is an impossibility There are nasties out there kicking a poor policewoman in the head There are repugnant foreign Taxi-drivers prostituting teen girls about There are hate filled Terrorist willing to **** innocents unflinching While our deranged think school playground antics is all they're worth These are the ones that salivate in front of computer screens Unwashed Keyboard cowards parading malfunctioning brains Attention and ambition lacking deficits sad subhumans waiting to be fed How can wasted western fodders impact on my consciousness or even my subconscious Those by their evident actions already show they lack rationality, intelligence or understanding Inadequates whose only recourse is to showcase their inferiority in pained envy and jealousy by trying to bully Insignificant runts who can't better themselves despite opportunities abound Dr Livingstone come see what your children from your Great Empire has become You told our forefathers you came from the very cradle of Civilisation A land of freedom and great knowledge How come now your childrens are pathetic ignorant irrational insecure deluded cowards What to do with morons other than to pitifully toss them a morsel of our talents once a while and laugh as they feed hungrily You gotta laugh!
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33
Technical issues Malfunctioning wires The power sporadically Comes, then expires As quick as the rains In cascades upon town Serenade me to sleep As they crash all around And depart to the chirping Of crickets in thickets Of dense foliage As the canopy glistens Bejeweled in the dews’ Opalescent sun rays As the colobus leap To and fro as they play On display is a wilderness Otherworld bliss And the people as natural Components subsist Off the land that has nourished them Centuries old Now a part of their story Mine set to unfold
0
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC
Roobaa Dhufa Jira
i think my feel box is malfunctioning, i gotta find a screwdriver to pop off the faceplate and inspect the insides. it keeps saying the latitude and longitude aren’t localized. i can’t calibrate it because i’m up in the air. it flickers when it beeps and my static causes feedback. birds don’t know anything about artificial connective tissue, but they know all about falling.
0
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 9:40 PM UTC
Untitled