"misbehaves" poems
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway,
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
In willfully prevenient interpolation,
Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray,
Forecasts in vague extrapolation
Contrasts the millennial contagion
Already underway,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion,
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion,
The personable recluse fighting an illusion
Breaking down the nuances of every institution.
Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity
Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility,
An opinionated adversary,
to the realist without evidence,
Theorizing in futility,
Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community.
Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified,
Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified,
Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide,
Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide,
Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified.
Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity,
As consequential regiments are expounded universally,
To unstratify the residents indiscriminately
And identify quantum elements spiritualistically,
Changing collective behavior individually,
Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
Strolling through the park
With humans, dogs, and birds,
Pink leaves make their mark
As they hover down in thirds.
Drifting along lazy airwaves,
An amplified guitar echoes
As a band soulfully misbehaves
For all nearby bedfellows.
Apartments loom over trees,
From a place of urban gray
As blue air works to appease
Spaces between dusk and day.
Sturdy street lights rusted and old
Accompanying a worn path ignite,
One by one flashing dark to gold
On a normal Wednesday night.
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 7:03 PM UTC
The light pollution
from the lives of little people
in the big city
reflects off the lowriding clouds,
the same way my knees reflect
in the little puddles
from the big rains.
It hurts my eyes to look up
without sunglasses,
hurts my lips to think of tasting
the subway oil that
drip
drip
drips
I speculate at the transformers,
part automatic, part people
in their pre-ripped jeans,
learning to get their Ns
to drive themselves away,
yarn trailing from their sweaters
like parade float streamers.
Citizens run so fast
to catch the early train home,
freefalling down the stairs
breathing in the exhales
of the other racer’s exhaust.
Marking their triumphs
with participation ribbons.
The pacific pants at toes,
a puppy that only occasionally misbehaves.
Impatient for attention,
waves wagging back and forth,
up the imitation river,
past the downtown.
Kicking the sea wall with it's gravity boots.
The geese are on hiatus
until they can take back the city.
Making the drains overflow,
creating their own habitat,
they’ll strut their haughty markings,
distinguished from orcas,
away from any saline nonsense.
Were we to retrain the population
to turn blind eyes,
we’d be much more efficient,
stop wasting time contending
to society’s obsession
with documenting itself.
But then, what would we do all day?
Creating light pollution
must give immediate gratification.
Once all the lights are turned off,
the influence won’t continue,
creating a lack of permanence,
making our need to be remembered
seem trivial indeed.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 1:57 AM UTC
You hired me to be a cook at your restaurant.
I'll cook but I won't do everything you want.
When you said what you wanted, I said no.
I'll cook the food but I won't peel the potatoes.
I won't peel potatoes or anything else either.
Your daughter is accusing me of ****** harassment and you believe her.
The truth is that she desperately wants me to be her *** slave.
When I refuse, she becomes vindictive and she misbehaves.
She tore her dress and said that I attacked her.
I'd had all I could take so I finally smacked her.
I won't give in to her demands, if I have to, I'll take her to court.
She's the ugliest girl I've ever seen, her face is covered with warts.
Because I won't be her piece of *** she tries to get me in hot water.
I won't peel your vegetables and I won't sleep with your ugly daughter.
When I got this job, I thought that I would love it.
But I've decided to quit, take this job and shove it.
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 1:10 PM UTC
After long dark,
you can find me in my mind;
taming serpents; kissing girls.
You may not understand
why I've been the way I am.
You're under-educated
and that's only half your fault.
Sometimes I am imprisoned
within the waves of an ocean
that always misbehaves --
but it's not my fault; just the
way the god rolls: making halves
and making wholes.
After the short syrup of light,
you can find me hiding, true;
pulling off ticks; kissing boys.
You may not comprehend
the way I'm fumbled together.
You're under-educated
and that's only half your fault.
Always I am imprisoned
within the crash of culture;
my thoughts treated like worms;
my illnesses considered contrived.
But it's not my fault; just the
way you guys roll: ignoring halves
for conventional wholes.
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 5:17 PM UTC
cyclic lingering
disconnected rambling
the same words rearanged
breathes shortening
impotent bargaining
the same pattern misbehaves
Ive always walked this way
hormonal litter cursed by anatomy
hyesteria
weepy futility
uncharacteristic of one so bold
the words of tongues
drag mud through wounds
a voided heart : not so
deep breaths
stand strong in misery
mindfulness, like a drug
disconnect and call it religion
pacing pacing pacing
thoughts;
I bleed for the words of others
For both praise and scheming lies
I wish to leave this haunted soul
but I
But I
but I ...what?
need to run?
to hide?
to hold my ground?
we'll see as it comes
a controlling women's worst nightmare
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 4:51 PM UTC
Embarked my usual train of thought,
raging hormones fight fiercely to win.
There you are now, vividly brought,
in pure thoughts full of sin
Tossing & turning in bed,
a typical lustful insomniac.
Tearing my blanket, pulling on a thread,
and watching the ceiling like a maniac.
I stare in empty spaces,
anxiously awaiting you now.
I'm going mad with your perfume traces.
I even smell it on my dress, I don't know how.
I lay there restless for a while,
until i hear your voice.
You walk through the door to serenade me to sleep
I say "touch me." and you like that choice.
Bite me, I love when a lover misbehaves.
Breath me in the midnight heat.
Crush on me like the strong Pacific waves.
Come closer, come sense my heartbeat.
Sleep deprivation. We argue.
Over a lovers' argument,
You say "A million times I love you"
I say "Your love, is my lifetime accomplishment"
You lay a kiss, ever so adorning.
Slip into your dream as I slip into mine
and when we make it to the next morning
then darling I guess that's a good sign.
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 5:45 PM UTC
The noise surrounding misbehaves;
The presence of devotion.
Covenants made until the graves,
Or some heart's first emotion.
The adorned comforts in delight,
She is curled up yet open;
Clingy with ladybug wings bright
And the actions soft-spoken.
Deep within a chamber of blood
This pinprick of loneliness,
Pulsing with an empty deep thud;
Wishing the same - to caress.
Feb 12, 2010
Feb 12, 2010 at 7:36 AM UTC
You're the answer I hear
when learning misbehaves
friendship running off around hedges
with rounded edges
calling me to figure out the facts
behind neatly pruned leaves
learning what is covered
when they cease
to scatter and dodge
I follow the delectable hints
to where the giggles grow
louder now I'm led toward
your near indecent scent
the flowers in the borders
wriggle with unbound glee
whilst love hides with held breath
in hidden indents
you dare to press up close
against an idle post
where radiance warms
to a chance find in prospect
expectant that your dalliance
will escape my notice
but I see it blooming in pupils
where love's not faked
I find you on a hunch
in the midst of hesitations
when I tease the bush
apart like two explaining pages
opening answering lips
brimming with wild questions
each kiss a knowing release
to lush and flowing fields
that day that friendship faced
the truth of love's sweet tutelage
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 1:16 AM UTC
When heart breaks
Love tracks
Misbehaves
Smile fakes
Countdown
All around
Break break
They are fakes
Don't nourish
All foolish
I'm alone
No one known.
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 1:45 AM UTC
We cage our animals
The way we cage our men
Some may call it cruelty
The way we lock them in
We go and lock the man away
When he misbehaves
But with the animals we kindly say
We're just trying to save
Just who are we trying to save
All the wild animals from
Is it from themselves
Or is it all from us
And what about man
In the same way
Is it them or us
That we're trying to save
It's the classic case of
Monkey see with monkey do
And of who is watching who
Inside this man made zoo
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 8:47 AM UTC
GOD THE DEVIL AND BOB at easter
today it’s good friday and bob delahunty was going to church to have a
hot cross bun feast, and a hungry poor buddhist was going into the church
and asked bob, why do the christians like to eat over easter, what is it all about
and bob said, it’s a time where families, forget about their differences and share
a big celebration, with hot cross buns today after their service and then on easter
they will host family get togethers, where the kids are forced to hunt for eggs
that the parents hid in the garden, it is a very good day, and the buddhist man said
why can’t christians be nice to each other every day, like us buddhists ands bob said,
well, i guess your right, but life hands us problems to fix, like divorce and family quarrels
and battles that can’t be resolved, you see we are always away from loved ones and easter
is a way to keep updated on where our loved ones are, and then the buddhist asked bob
why can’t they scype every night and then bob said, buddy, no person really wants to do that,
actually, it is great to give families fun at easter, like sending kids on easter hunts, how radical dude
and have great hot cross bun morning teas, where we all can feast, yeah, if we did these things every day
we would get so fat, and kids will be so greedy, and we need every city in the land to pop
open the champagne corks, saying HAPPY EASTER DUDES, AND TO ALL A HAPPY FEASTING
you see easter if you add an f, could mean, the annual feaster, but we took the f away to make you feel great
and then the buddhist said, ok but what if you were fasting in a remote country and you had to knock
back the hot cross buns and easter eggs and bob said ok, yeah, if your fasting you must say no, i am on a diet
and the buddhist said, what if you went to a nightclub and got heavily ****** from vodkas and rums etc etc
and get too drunk on easter saturday, are you still expected to roll up to family get togethers on easter sunday
and bob said yes, then the buddhist said, how do you cope, HOW THE **** DO YOU COPE
this is how, you sing
god is the devil and the devil is grog
god is the devil and the devil is grog
god is the devil and the devil is grog
especially round easter time where drinking may send you back and forwards to the sink spewing
and the buddhist asked bob one thing, before he went to tiabet, he asked, is there really such thing as a devil
because every night i drink a whole bottle of wine by myself and bob said, well if the devil was grog i think
i am the devil, cause, grog is my cup of tea
and the buddhist went home and bob left saying this one word, misbehave, everyone who drinks grog misbehaves
and there is nothing wrong with that, bob said happy easter and went back to the devil’s hideout and the buddhist blessed him
saying, the devil, there is no such thing
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 6:11 AM UTC
Your teeth are crooked
They’re yellow too.
Your hair misbehaves –
Just like you.
Your humour I fail to understand
Like the words you mumble in your sleep.
You have no manners
Can’t even hold a fork !!
You bite your nails
And your words are sharp
Little love do you seem to give –
Time a waste for me.
Yet I stand here still
With a smile on my face –
Your grace is hidden,
Your charm is only ever mine.
Your smile so rare
But springs from soul
My darling - rarer than any precious stone.
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 1:35 PM UTC
I treasure my blossom / like a flower she shall grow and blossom
I cherish her skin /fearing the worst when day it will rotten
I curse the moon / faces he changes some grin some scheme
I hold her face closest / when she misbehaves , outside in woods , to the window she will scream
I pleasure my blossom / poems she begs for so I will always write more
I answer my blossom / questions of home ? but here she will stay , here where it is warm
I dream of my blossom / her pedals lose color in colder season
I pollen my blossom / by moon fall we will know if conceived was daughter or son
I bury my blossom / this cabin is silent but loud like wind
I cry for my blossom / our child starved without a drop of milk
I need a new blossom / a daisy field is over the hill
I find my new blossom / but another gardener is there ; another I shall ****
I walk with my blossom / she holds onto my wrist tight with love
I carry my blossom / through the doorway as newlywed
I fight for my blossom / scoundrels or sheriffs couldn’t fathom our celibate matrimony
I lust for my blossom / how she smells and reminds me of my last family
I yearn for my blossom / she cries with tears - soul curling callings of pompous proportions
S H E . N E E D S . T O . C A L M . D O W N .
I pet my blossom / hum out what she needs to hear now
“The day we decay in the casket we share ; we will stare so close nose to nose. No need to breath so faint and vigorously into my ear , Im here , my dear , forever through death. Let the worms feed on us both , when our story is told , in books or songs of romance envious audience will dance. Hold onto my flesh if you need some more , in the cupboard I stored , another layer for warmth. You smell of dandelions your hair like straw , I swore I saw your shattered kaleidoscope garnished glare elsewhere before. Your soul is sown onto my own how humbled I am to have you back home. Sleep now. H U S H . N O W. Wipe tears of joy off of your porcelain skin. You will wake to my eyes , every day , every night , I will hum you asleep sing you my eulogy again again again. My most precious flower , with such a solemn smile , lips so cracked kiss so sweet , your flower will bloom with a blossom none have seen. Goodnight fare love greet me with glee inside your dream.”
the ambience of woods / the sirens of crickets
I close my eyelids on the floor beside my blossom
s i l e n c e
Apr 24, 2022
Apr 24, 2022 at 6:38 AM UTC
You've made a sensible decision,
joining these ranks of stomped-on stand-in's.
I'll be your Virgil and guide you through
the ropes too often learned at lashing.
Don't overlook the import of choosing
proper cause and duly sainted miens.
Be better judge of princely nature,
for when he does stray, it's you we'll hurt.
The world has no shortage of ****** and
to keep the knife at bay, befriend him
you must, lest he misbehaves solely
for the pleasure of watching you writhe.
If it comes to that, all you'll have left
is to pray, he meets an untimely end,
and loads your back with shuffled-off cares
to scape back to the wilds whence you came.
Apr 24, 2010
Apr 24, 2010 at 1:12 PM UTC
Every night my spiritual start suffering of the damaged that
I had done it, within lots of harmful misbehaves in my past life.
Will you ever forgive me, and demand to the clouds with a
Few drops of forgiveness, to wash myself away of all sins.
My mind is starving to read your bible, my soul is thirsty too
Meet with you, my heart is alive like me believes about you.
This Christmas I will spend my entire time, praying to The Lord,
To meet with you in my dream, to confuse you that I want
To be a soldier, or even slave in your kingdom, because earth
Forced me to be a sinner, but now I want to be your follower.
I believe that tears won't make me blind anymore, because
Remembering of you in my life, is the joy I only ever wanted.
26/10/2014
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
It's raining again.
Wet hair almost drowning her.
Riding bicycles on empty streets.
Hair running free.
Flicks on shoulder blades.
Blades that aren't sharp.
Just soggy.
Like a smelly dog that misbehaves.
Hair that's not trained, nor restrained.
No bands of Alice.
Nor elastic.
No coronets or diamanté.
Tatty nylon hair nets.
Holding hair in place.
Makeup running down her face.
Heading back to her place.
Wants to find a towel.
Like me, she loathes umbrellas.
And her bicycle is rusting fast.
Anyway, has anybody ever ridden a bicycle while holding an umbrella.
(c)Livvi
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 6:49 PM UTC
Ruminating epoché,
‘I am…’ ‘Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay.
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay
Initiatives imperative consolidation,
Civilly disobedient in expedient disarray.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
Forecast in vague extrapolation,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating the linguistics of silent enclaves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
Probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
The Apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging Aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 1:24 AM UTC
Isn’t it all games and bets?
With my sweet little marionettes
Charmingly they fight my wars
Dancing to my twiddling force
Happily I watch them give in
To the daily new laws I spin
Dear puppets what choice do you have?
But to dodge from the president’s wrath
Thus I command you to fight
For what should be ours by right
Oil, gold, land and power I lust
Looting the weak must be shushed
To hell you say I should make my way
Blaming me for the wars we play
Remember it was me who was named
To comply the wishes our country claimed
Even you’ve got marionettes to your ease
Gladly abusing them as you please
Power and wealth society craves
It’s not just me who misbehaves
My successors will replace my place
Juggling with morals they will face
For the system was painted by society
And now it pains our humanity
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 9:39 PM UTC
In my mind, reality doesn't follow a strait narative.
I get lost sometimes. Spychogenic fugue.
My mind is like a dog, it obeys me sometimes
and others, it get out of the fence and misbehaves.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 9:29 AM UTC
It’s me there in your sunrise eyes
your swaying hips, your sunset thighs
like tasting sun kissed lemon pies
writhing in your sun soaked ties
My fingers gently wisp your breast
Bite your petals, kiss your chest
Holding you when you need rest
Restrained there at your own behest
It’s me there lapping you like waves
Exploring all your hidden caves
Sensual your body craves
So wild as it misbehaves
But soon it will be you I’m sure
Who’s pinned me on the sandy floor
Begging me to beg for more
Begging you to touch my core
It will be us then side by side
Arms entwined but neither tied
No foolish thoughts nor foolish pride
No fears or feelings we must hide
Just us there in the fading light
And us there in the quiet night
Again, when next the sun takes flight
Like two birds soaring to great height
Then gently fading out of sight
Yes, gently fading out of sight.
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 6:19 PM UTC
Ruminating epoché,
‘I am…’ ‘Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay.
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay
Initiatives imperative consolidation,
Civilly disobedient in expedient disarray.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
Forecast in vague extrapolation,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating the linguistics of silent enclaves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
Probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
The Apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 11:50 AM UTC
Violence begets violence, hate begets hate
this issue must end before it's too late
it's one thing to spank, quite another to beat
whether its done at home or out in the street
public embarrassment just angers your kid
resentment will grow of which you'll never be rid
families then broken bonds forever lost
public beatings have a terrible cost
this circle exists and there is no denying
in the end what you'll find is a parent who's crying
wondering why their kids have lost all respect
when their beatings have been a form of neglect
sparing the rod is not spoiling the child
when it's most often the rod that makes the youth wild
parents wake up, if it's fear that you want
what you will gain are regrets that forever will haunt
your child needs you to be their greatest hero
don't treat them in a way that you appear as a zero
the mother in Baltimore in that brief little session
has taught to her son a truly terrible lesson
there's a form of discipline, one that's way over the line
that when their child misbehaves, they've learned that beatings are fine
you see beatings get passed down to the next generation
when the kids beat their own kids, it's a regeneration
nobody's been listening, the problem's not gone
the circle continues and the beating goes on
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC
Smoke fills the air,
we are aware.
As we sit and talk,
the evening stalks.
The subtle sparks,
the night, dark.
The fire is a light,
the black is a fright.
The scorching air crawls my skin,
the darkness lingers, the evil twin.
A side with blazing, red, hot heat waves,
the other side, cold and it misbehaves.
The dissonance, twas' a blissful feel,
and so my mouth kept sealed.
and so my mouth kept sealed,
and my mouth kept sealed.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 4:20 AM UTC