"micromanaging" poems
Nudge a numb cockroach and he'll love you for life
just ***** little lemonheads
can't actually survive a nuclear explosion
but can cause catastrophic evolutionary queries
like "Why do the good die young?"
Can you believe
that long ago only the bad died elderly
and were witches with elixirs
potions and spells to make God blush and his **** turn to mush
so powerful
they made people go crazy with
judgement and micromanaging
but I'm the real witch
right-o I ride broomsticks and eat toads for snacks
my back is a lump of coal from the Devil's morning hookah
smoke billows from my ears
cockroaches my best friends
we cut off our heads and run into fridges
my pelvis is frigid except
for those **** roaches.
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 6:43 PM UTC
I lumber sluggishly,
dragging the weight of my body.
Every pound is tethered to me,
I can’t escape the heaviness.
I am stuffed into clothes,
encased in figure-hugging fabric
that looks better on the hanger
than my rounded, fleshy torso.
The scale is an unlucky lottery ticket
displaying a number
that I will carry around
shamefully like a scarlet letter.
I count calories like beads on a rosary,
making sure I shrink to conformity
critical of every extra curve
because to love my size is a societal sin.
Airbrushed beauty queens
and slender starlets
wear their size 0 like a badge of honor
in the battlefront of glossy magazine covers.
I’m crushed with the weight of the world I inhabit
a place that teaches girls to be self-conscious
of each pound that sticks to their body
instead of teaching them to be confident in their own skin.
I’m tired of micromanaging each nutrient that touches my lips,
to achieve a slender frame that resists my big-boned body
self love is not a one-size-fits-all
and I will radically adore every ounce that is tethered to me.
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 5:44 PM UTC
Pain in the thighs
from the endless straddles
Pin ****** in the ribs
from a poorly made white willows dress
All are things much desired by a pudgy adolescent female
A garment of ill conceived freedom
An illusion
Of frolic in utopia
It was just a small gate way to the mud caked feet
And into the auto eclipses
Of stargazing zombies
Those still relied on vintage kaleidoscopes
All Full of cracks
See in her bleeding ignorance
the shores still remained open
Turquoise schooners unleashed
The tree tops were still aching to be claimed
Reincarnated as a paradise for attractive drifters
Not even the all mouth beasts
can contain her patented enthusiasm
The straw huts break for assembly
under a tiny hand
Too bad the cracks have been secured
The air was kept to boil
and stain the linoleum
Echoes of a puritan called to action
The streams soon hardened
to form plastic shelving
And the orange flowers collapse
to form packing materials
Onto the plastic shelving is were we placed the books
The books that know that freedom
is just copy right infringement
And life is a micromanaging instruction
Designed to make workers eat their own demise
Grid-less prosperity
cremated in the corner of a starter home
Only an anthropologic mistake
Meant to ward of a mass pandemic of sudden infant death syndrome
The pudgy filled girl,
The comedic car and the overproduced dress
They will learn the value of a hot meal and a good ********
The dreamers almost stole her away
in their patchwork parachute
But we sent her away to Universidad
And the world is her worthless cluster ****
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 8:59 AM UTC
You slip into the familiar seat,
You grab the clicker from next to the coffee
On the table covered with cup-stains;
You click “ON” to hear a familiar beat:
“Amber is the color of your energy...”
And click an arrow without waiting for the rest of the refrain.
The image switches to a wolf pack
Stalking some deer as daylight fades
With a British voice to narrate saying:
“They come out at night and sleep at daybreak...”
And that's all you hear of that, afraid
Any more of this junk and your mind will be fraying.
The next scene seems to be a replay,
Some golf that you remember from yesterday...
But then comes a ring for a delivery,
So you grab your cash, cuz pizza ain't free.
And by the time you come back, everything's changed,
That is, on the screen; nothing else is rearranged.
It's an ad for a show on a different channel:
The Peanuts Christmas episode plays Sunday night,
And as the video returns to the commentary panel,
You think, “'Twas just summer, these people aren't bright!”
You settle down again, cram some pizza in your mouth,
And push the button for “Next” while picking some dough off your tooth.
“Pertaining to the subject of substance abuse in teens,
Studies have shown...” drones a voice so boring and wrinkly
It does not seem to fit the handsome man.
And even as you imagine him in a Speed-O or tight jeans,
You flip onto what's next, wishing HBO were free,
And think that a movie might have to be your plan.
It's Friday night, and this is what it comes to:
High heels off, watching TV in pajamas, what you call lingerie
That seems more like something your grandma might wear.
The pencil skirts and presentations, the micromanaging boss of two,
The pathetic day fades into bliss, victory after the business fray,
Sweet victory, channel surfing without a care.
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
What is happening to you?
Well,
I'm stuck in this limbo of a world between child and adult.
A limbo between my choices and yours.
I'm stuck between childish way and adult relations.
I'm stuck between the condescending tones and looks; and the reality of freedom.
I'm at a halfway house between sanity and insanity.
Frankly, it's such a thin line I teeter it.
I'm stuck in between the micromanaging stares of my family and my own personal distain.
I'm stuck between crying myself to sleep, and waking up with dreams of these new days.
I'm stuck between being a tattered rag and rich velvet.
I'm stuck in this Limbo.
And,
You don't seem to help with your condemnation.
You're not helping.
You tell me to stop talking.
You can't see I'm afraid.
You can't see I'm pulling away...
All because I'm afraid.
You only want me to talk about things you want to hear.
You only want me to do things you want me to do.
You want me here, but you want me gone.
Leaving me in Purgatory.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
"It's okay to get help."
Is this the equivalent to giving up?
Giving in?
Saying I can't do this
on my own.
I'm too ****** up
to manage it
myself.
"I'm just escaping."
Is this the equivalent to getting high?
Getting drunk?
Saying you're too ignorant to know
what it's doing to
your body.
You're too miserable to live
substance free.
"It's the best release."
Is this the equivalent to dying?
Bleeding out?
Saying that physical pain
is better.
Slitting your skin is
the best solution for
unwanted emotions.
"I'm not like you."
Is this the equivalent to being weird?
Being different?
Saying the entire human race
should be just
like you.
Because you think you're
******* perfect.
"Guess what?"
You aren't and
I do not want your help.
I can manage on my own.
No medication
for me.
I do not want your drugs
and alcohol.
I will keep myself clean.
I do not need to escape.
I will not slit my wrists.
I prefer battle scars.
Not self-inflicted wounds.
I will be who I am
because perfection is fake.
Like you.
So *****
you.
Society.
Peers.
And "perfect" people.
Because it's all a bunch
of ********
I will do
and be
who I think
I am.
Without your micromanaging,
you-only-have-two-options,
"it runs in the family"
nonsense.
I do not need
your pills
and other
substances
to live my
******* up
life.
I think I will be fine
on my own.
But thanks for your
consideration.
Really, it's appreciated.
Now
**** off.
And leave me
alone.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
Staring at this view
A feeling encompasses you
One that replaces the fear and despair
All of a sudden you become aware
Of how you've been living
With a cloud enveloping your mind
Making enjoyment difficult to find
But in this view
Sadness cannot touch you.
The calmness of the lake
Its surface velvety smooth
The sound of the breeze
Gently moving the trees
Birds chirp and water plants sway
Reminding you it will all be okay
Life is to be lived, experienced and enjoyed
Micromanaging it will not fill the void
Pause and take time
to remember the truth
You are who you are
That's enough.
No more to do.
No need to punish yourself for your perceived flaws
For the flaws lie in your thinking
It's possible to achieve
Without having to leave
Your calm, relaxed self in the dust.
Just believe.
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 11:28 PM UTC
There’s days where feel a little under appreciated
But every time I’m with you I feel that get alleviated
I don’t know if it’s you or me turning 20 but I feel my life’s purpose is a little different now
You should see me running in my house answering a notification hoping your name on the screen will come around
Not desperate but my happiness comes in short stints and doesn’t last for long
And if your wondering about my scars let’s just say most of my clouded judgement and overthinking is the result of me micromanaging all the things I should’ve done right that I thought were wrong
Don’t look at my wrist just put your eyes on me
Let’s just say I’m the type of person who shouldn’t be left alone in a dark room with their thoughts because they’ll be a shock for few and that would be a total surprise to me
People shed a few tears and I never thought I’d see a few cries for me
I never let you in because I’m scared once you leave the haunted house called my thoughts you’ll go far away
My best friends called anxiety and depression keep interrupting me when I’m trying to find the words expressing my emotions and it’s hard to say
You ever feel like you’ve just met someone and you wish the conversations you had with them get longer in duration
That’s how I felt with you because I’m usually beating myself over the head with my thoughts and every time we talked I had one less abrasion
And if your reading this just know it wasn’t you that had a part in me doing this I just got tired of everything and I wanted you to know that the time we spent together was the perfect date
And I’m sorry I could never tell you this in person and had to put it on the fourteenth tape
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 2:26 PM UTC
Haunting my dreams with the best words
Micromanaging the creative people everywhere
The happy stories seems sad though most have a happier ending
Is that all there is of the Daily News?
We can do more and better
Expectations went out the window but the dreams still remain
One can go for it as it were
Where they are going If they get there is another story
Happiness, Healthiest, find joy daily this coming new year
Daily News signing off for now
Wishing all a Happy Heart
C@rainbowchaser2021
Dec 21, 2021
Dec 21, 2021 at 9:13 AM UTC
Here we are discriminating forms of art and poetry.
Denying each other acceptance
and credibility.
Judging how we talk, or rhyme,
or how dope our flows should be.
Coming in and criticizing.
Basically falling just short of micromanaging.
We all strive for the same types of things.
Wasting time and energies.
Spitting venom still.
How we representing 'unity'?
When each others pride we ****
Do you even feel?
I mean feel........the lyrics?
What we may be saying?
Pay attention to the vibes,
and different tracks that we're laying?
Dissing opponents,
never shaking hands.
Who ever is bigger and badder,
is the winning man?
Dam that is a mentality I never could fathom.
Want or need some props,
here ya go you can have em'.
You see, for me.
I'd rather keep the peace.
Give you a hug or a fist bump,
I'll love you like we're family
For you, and you, and all of them.
Someone else who just might need a friend.
Someone to sync with.
Someone to help them glow.
Maybe connect everyone,
with a common knowledge or flow!
Hell I don't know!
But I'll dream.
Create a beautiful lucid scene.
Where every one is welcome
up on my shoulders to lean.
So pace yourself while labeling,
to your perceptional liking.
But show some respect.
You never know,
who they might be.
So I don't apologize for,
not being 'hard' ya'll.
Because life's hard enough,
without pointing out flaws
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 11:54 AM UTC