"migrane" poems
bonetender night, polaric.
windswept crown atones
weeping wanderer.
rigid matriarch condones
tantrum medication. vast
control shapes diminished conscience,
actuating frustration;
migrane pulse doctorate.
sad shell housing beaten wails,
a closed eye, ear to brains.
steady now, absorb sultry stance.
dim lamp set on autonomic fade.
Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 6:00 AM UTC
When will this real life nightmare end? I think id rather be put through chinese water torture. atleast id never break under pressure. but as long as we r judt friends its going to be hell. i dont think this migrane filled nightmare will ever end untill i geet her backk in my arms forever and finally call her mine again.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 8:42 PM UTC
Put a padlock on the backstock.
I gave a sweet goodbye wave.
People make fun of how I behave.
Alcohol drains common sense from your brain.
Pukes out the poison down the drain.
Can make your boyfriend homicidal & insane.
It is lame.
They have only themselves to blame.
A hangover migrane all the same.
On your heart & liver puts strain.
With him his whisky shots are to the rim.
Drinking from morning, to noon, til the next moon.
Stumbling around the room.
Be kind & brave.
Free yourself of a drunken slave.
Salvage what is left of your mind.
Don't be the guy who trys to lie.
Sobriety you never gave a try.
Pave the way I gave.
Yourself you must save.
It gets loud under a thunder cloud.
Do you ever wonder....
Why zero is the number,
To which you plunder?
Lazy & slumber....
Do you need a glass of water.
Thristy? Why do I even bother?
I actually love my daughter.
Better without a drunken dumped father. I met someone so much hotter.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
"*1.
*** as they harshly call it,
I fell into this morning
at ten o'clock, a drizzling hour
of traffic and wet newspapers.
I thought of him who yesterday
clearly didn't.
2.
That "old last act"!
And yet sometimes
all seems post coitum triste
and I a mere bystander.
Somebody else is going off,
getting shot to the moon.
...we murmur the first moonwords:
Spasibo. Thanks. O.K.*
- Adrienne Rich
I meant to write a headier poem about this
I sit down think about the quarter moon
is it in a fourth? I don't know,
the half of halves
here it is, here i am
writing down all there is to
saint saens the cello
i have a migrane, god.
jesus utterances but afterwards
we'd walk out the dark basements
and smoky apartment rooms (with a start over
sense later in the park)
with this and once you'd told me
"I think shame is a part of me"
however the other one would just
cross his arms
"come on be normal how are you are you ok whatever i don't
care anyways"
not to talk
the heat of the
flue hot on my face
i can't talk if i do i'll have to spit
out this window roll down the car!
the car window
sometimes i'd cry even reduced to tears
i knew to not try that **** with the other guy
you'd just stroke my hair and oh god
Oh god no one had ever touched
hair that softly in the history
of anything
or pulled it like that either and
so i remember august beach nights once
where i'd cry from that memory and
my mother would ask why do you weep?
why do you cry kid?
i'd just look at the breaking waves
the saens sinfonie in my head still
hoarsely say "it's just cause... i'm loved so much you
know"
and me and the guy with the room and the
black hair don't even
count on it
'
he'd hold my hand, alright
i'd feel no comfort in it
still feeling like i'd
taken a friendly stroll
along the state roadway
chemicals. chemicals. chemicals
soft sun in the
black bamboo
flooringwood and goodbyes.
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC
it hits you
but not all at once
or like a ton of bricks
more like
a constant migrane
a dull throb
with spikes of pain
that strike you
listlessly in vain
in the oddest
times and places
it hits you
in the middle of the night
or while staring
into your coffee
ruminating twilight
on your drive home
or when you get caught
in a stranger's sight
it hits you
and you'll want
to hit back
but you just can't
connect
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 9:58 PM UTC
Do you know what it is like
The constant struggle,
Un ending Fight
Sometimes it can last
All night
The strength of this weakness
It grabs a hold of me
And fastens its grip
Making it hard for me to breath
Surrounded by the roaring sound
But, Silence is all around
The harsh chill of the ground
I’m just Trying to calm down
Find the heartbeat inside my chest
But it is to quite in this mess
Just looking for the beat in my chest
I feel defeated as I struggle to find rest
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
my pain will always cause thunderstorms.
sometimes death represents suspense.
its ruthless, depressing thoughts
will let me sleep when I'm dead.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
I have already told you;
there are sleepless mornings
when I can taste
every poison lacing my cigarette
and I wouldn't mind except
for the way that they sift past
a throat already rubbed sore
from all of the screams kept silent inside.
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 10:43 AM UTC
i see colors of
blue
gold
black
white
and red
flashing through my brain
vaulting against my head
a thunder of pain
searing
kneading it's fingers throughout my skull
squeezing
until i am numb
and fall face down on my bed
exhausted
spent
this mirage of agony
over in hours
but wearing me out
for days.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 11:19 PM UTC
I am yelling "I'm different."
please paint my contents.
look behind my shipwrecked mind.
find such violent tidal waves I know that I can fight.
I stay alive.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 6:12 PM UTC
It's not sadness
or hate,
resentment,
or regret.
It's empty;
closing your
hand around
something gone.
Empty doesn't
have a remedy;
everything falls
but doesn't land.
A migrane
whose temples
you can even
rub in futility.
Pain in phantom,
sourced from
a limb severed
out of foolishness.
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 11:02 PM UTC
Alone I lie,
In a trance state of mind.
My thoughts screaming,
But I don't move.
Too much pain,
Yet I don't even bother to cry.
I created this violence in my head.
Piercing thoughts until I'm dead.
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 1:07 AM UTC
When you have a important meeting to attend
you get stuck in traffic jam...
When your Director calls you to his office
its always the time when you get a call from home that the baby is crying...
When you have a sudden holiday next day,
you get up in morning with migrane...
When you have visitors coming over
your fridge suddenly is all empty...
When you have to make that one important call
your mobile credit is suddenly low...
When you have a friend waiting and you are already late
You definetly will have a burst tyre...
When you have a train to catch
your work never finishes till you almost miss the train...
When some guest come over as surprise
that is the when you lazied to clean the house....its the dirtiest to the core...
When you are fooling around on phone with a friend
you miss that one important call...
When you pack and fly off finally
its then you realise the most important
thing you needed is left behind...
When you want India to win, Sachin is on the crease strong
that very momen we loose a wicket and most often a match too...
When Ghana wanted that golden penalty
by the great Asomah Gyan
he hit the goal post, lost the match, lost the hope as well...
When you have a weekend planned
the weather shining the mood swinging
you get up in the morning to see its raining whole day and becomes messy..messing the whole feeling..
When you visit an uncle's place
they praise you delicious ice-creams and cakes
you decide to make some for them in good will and love
your perfect cake burns,
your soft ice-cream milk sticks to the pan, leaving the aroma behind in ice-cream,
in the family's minds and also in ur name..
When you mess certain thing
the people around you will always say they knew you will mess
but they never warn before...
Coincidences like these do happen too often,
Strange soon they will be termed as superstition ,
Modern day women have modern day problems,
Crisis factor are changing,
Panic attacks are the same..
Handling them is modern women achievements and
Tackling them is her trade mark,
Todays women are good at multi-tasking,
and situation like these makes them excellence at par...!!!
Mom's, Wife's, Sis in law s, Sister's Daughter's, Daughter in law s, Friends..
have successfully moved ahead...
Superstition dose'nt hamper their moving spirit,
Challenge each day is mile-stone..
To achieve and move on...To another day...another mile-stone
is the formula of perfect life..
is a formula for that perfect smile...!!!
Sparkle in Wisdom
2009.
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 3:44 AM UTC