"miscommunications" poems
(gulp)
Couldn’t resist a minute more.
Relapse.
I again…
After six months sober...
Here.
In this pain I know all too well.
Ten years lost to this drug my veins ache for.
First breath in the morning and last thought at night, all consumed by it.
Every cell in me craves it.
That physical euphoria my body portraits.
Feels like someone has poured pure joy into every single muscle and fiber of my being.
It makes me feel so content
Every single bit of me is singing and buzzing with life and love.
It's like the ecstasy of ******* that first blissful, pleasurable pulsation of endorphins and serotonin.
This is what I feel when I first take LOVE.
And then...
And then, the honeymoon stage is over.
Fights erupt.
Never-ending debates.
Miscommunications.
Misperceptions.
No trust.
Accusations.
Lies.
“I’m done...”
…
Again, it feels like a part of my soul is leaving my body.
Again, sitting here numb.
A toxic love...
I’m addicted to,
And there’s no way around it.
It’s already deep intertwined with my veins.
Yet, no matter the toxic, tragic event that happened before, I sit here, and I want nothing more than to spend my life next to this soul.
To see his eyes unchanged as the skin around it wrinkles and grows old is what my heart will always desire— to stare at those eyes for the rest of eternity.
Dead air…
So here I’ll wait, until you decided to come into my life again and repeat this déjà vu.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
Maybe I did just meet you
But something about you
Just seems so Natural
Almost as if I knew you in
another life, maybe...
That doesn’t happen often
Someone that you want to spend
Every second of everyday with
Smiling up at him
Him down at me
in the sunshine, sunset, and moonlight
Im a young adult still exploring
the world learning.
And would like to spend the
time learning with you.
Learning about you.
We were blind dates
Now more than that are you to me.
Who cares about the 90 miles?
As long as we have each other
90 is but a number.
There will be miscommunications
But thats what learning is all about
learning to live with what you have,
and what you have to live without.
And you, I can’t live without you.
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 9:58 PM UTC
Is it just me, or is it difficult to speak
To people of differing nationalities.
Experiencing horrid miscommunications,
Distorting perception from reality.
I hope I am the only one
so none must share my discontent
Of speaking with language barriers
Between differening continents.
Even if they speak the same language,
Some things don't translate.
Apparently some colloquialisms
Can cause most to miscommunicate...
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 5:35 PM UTC
No, not beautiful
No, not ugly
Just more average than average
The only problem is that
I don't know, and can't control, what it's showing
Normal? I have no idea
And I know I'll never see it myself
I just wish I could
And know what to change
The biggest miscommunications
Happen with my face
Yes, I feel stupid: glaring at you and making you think I want to ****** someone, when it's only the sun in my eyes
No, you did nothing wrong!
Please see past the anger, sadness, or shock that you may see
That isn't me! I'm so much better
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 9:13 PM UTC
It's all about contexts and
I only want there to be one.
All the "I've been done that's".
It's all miscommunications.
I haven't been done anything in a while.
Take me with you.
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
Caress the curvature,
and catacombs of your cranium.
As you sit back
and contemplate the complexities
of your mind.
Drift into a state of relaxation,
amongst the ebbing tides of a soft creation.
Below furrowed brows,
made famous by frustration,
into the depths of foggy thought,
I found my naval base.
An island,
transmitting infinite miscommunications.
Rhetorical bio-essence bounces off the constellations.
An angelic reverberation.
My mind begins to melt
Seeping into walls
Formed by divine hallucination
Exhausted by sheer elation.
Transfixed in a state of utter meditation
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 11:10 AM UTC
the Internet sets
higher aspirations
a teaching guide,
on how to
go beyond and deep into
the fast lane's curved and wide,
stretching
the straight and narrow
longer than lasting,
lasting no longer than
memory feelings
blurred overlapping burnt edged video recordings
pores pour oil and noise,
differentiating little between
beginning ending continuous
in the mind, from the walls,
Santana Rob sings "Smooth,"
but it is
the guitar wailing controlled penetrations.
a national anthem
of driven perpetual needy fomenting
outspoken physical truths
you don't care how you
got there,
where you are,
anybody's name,
high octane high performance
*** today,
is not for
the shy and the retiring, sissies,
we all got the necessary expertise,
with violin accompanist of pharma teaching aids
recalling first time tumblings,
exhaling
deep down throated rumblings,
rushing
fumbling ********* an ****** innocence
rushes of surprise and discovery,
success of feeling successful,
the shame of miscommunications
think I'm gonna watch me
a romantic comedy,
write her a love poem,
come up from behind,
caress her *******
kidding kissing her ear lobes,
then entering her entry point,
her neck
even when she is
armed
but forgiving,
busy chopping dinner's vegetables,
make them make them
give up the hidden
soft atonal squealing
like a
piccolo on steroids,
high pitch teasing,
pinched by air ****** intaking
I'll play the bass,
hitting those low notes,
********* my own strings,
deep ooh's and aah's
diode emitting,
the drug employed
is unadulterated
wanton but wanted
desire
this won't be the poem of the day,
no mind,
it already is was and
will be...
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 7:27 AM UTC
So much is lost in the neuron journey-
from mind to mouth
from ears to you
My mouth is the source of great miscommunications
constantly tripping over thoughts
without the intention, or even a glance back,
to retrieve those scattered words
And so my saddness is audible anger
the lump in my throat was only bypassed with shouting
How is anyone understood at all?
standing under the shade of preconceived personalities
We see OUR point
but others' appear so dull
they dont leave a scratch on the surface
of our concrete cognitions
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC
Living life on
autopilot,
Wishing I wasn’t
Going insane.
Look around me
And everything
Stays the same.
The neuropathways
In my brain
Have the wires
Crossed and
There’s
Messages that
Always change.
I’m left to
Figure it out
On my own,
Miscommunications and
Exiled from a
Place I used to call home.
I just don’t get why,
I keep trying to change,
But life pulls me to
The other side
To a place where
the stars never
had a chance to
shine.
Sep 24, 2023
Sep 24, 2023 at 3:09 PM UTC
I wonder if he knows he's all I think about at night
And if he wanted me, he really should've showed
Oh, a simple complication
Miscommunications lead to fall out
‘Cause like, I've seen this film before
And I didn't like the ending
Aug 18, 2021
Aug 18, 2021 at 11:17 AM UTC
Seattle, so full of angry and bitter memories
Failed love affairs, dreams and careers
Seattle the Black Hole! We call it
Stifling people’s hopes
Raining on everyone’s parade
I am happy for those who are happy here
And I feel for those who are not
Miscommunications fill the air
Much like the *** smoke fills the small niches of building entryways
The streets are flooded with STD’s and STI’s
And all around me I see my friends dying
Dying from drug addictions and failed marriages
Dying from being accused by their own judgmental minds
They are all dying; rotting from the inside
Seattle, the most beautiful hypocritical city I know
Aug 22, 2010
Aug 22, 2010 at 9:24 PM UTC
He was a compulsive liar,
A cunning spider,
That spun silken webs of lies,
People were drawn into it like flies.
With his skills and uncanny ways,
He finally had his says,
He spat easily poisonous deceits,
That made you clench your fists.
He was charming and charismatic,
In weaving lies artistic.
For him lying had become a ritual,
Sort of habitual.
His descent was gradual,
Down to nothing from a pedestal.
He lost people's trust and credibility.
He was known for dishonesty,
As such he stained his name in society.
He was scoffed,"There goes liar,liar."
At first he excused his lies were misinterpretations,
Or may be miscommunications.
His lies ruined his friend's life,
He lost the trust of his family,son and wife.
He realised when he had lied,
He had committed suicide.
He had burnt all his bridges,
He had dug his own ditches.
To have his life back,
He had to stop lying and bring everything on track.
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 3:33 PM UTC
Most people don't go on traditional dates
They are too afraid to go on blind dates
Too afraid to go on multiple dates
Potential couples fear rejection
So they text each other how they feel
Being spontaneous has lost a lot of meaning
At least it will be a Facebook post
A Facebook post to show status
A Facebook post to brag about seeing someone
Texting can ruin relationships
Texting leads to miscommunications
People rush to put labels on their thing
Because most people are too insecure to not have
some form of security saying that he's mine
I wish I could go back in time
Where dating wasn't a constant battle
A constant battle of showing your interest
While remaining distant enough to avoid suffocating the spark
Where you didn't have to worry about a good morning text
Where if you wanted to talk to someone you would call them
Where it was just you and them and not all your Facebook friends
Whom always put their two cents into where you two should be at
Where relationships weren't built over text and then destroyed in person
Oh how I wish I could go back in time
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 2:11 AM UTC
Miscommunications will be my downfall
I say something
You misunderstand
Or vice versa
We both end up mad
For absolutely no reason
Bad goes to worse
And we end up here
Miles away
While feet apart
And nothing can mend
Our broken hearts
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 10:28 AM UTC
I miss you.
Even though we barely know each other.
We've barely talked.
Just met.
Even though I saw you a week ago.
It was like love at first sight
Perhaps.
To me, at least.
All I know is that
I need you.
Even though the miscommunications that Happened
Caused a lot of stress and worry.
Even though you have two other "wives".
Even though this might seem stalkerish.
Even though I feel left out
When other girls call your name
Then look at me as if I'm a little fly.
I know you'll come through.
I promise to.
Don't forget me.
I'm sorry.
Oct 23, 2010
Oct 23, 2010 at 4:34 PM UTC
I hope you always have an itch but no nails
I hope you always jjjuuuust miss every sale
I hope you never make enough to go all out
And I hope every night you dream about how your teeth fall out
I hope you always have to use a charger at a weird angle
A rock in both your shoes and sand in your sandals
I hope it pours when you go outside
Because
the AC broke inside
Plus you got left by your ride
And your phone just died
And that charger just decided it won't charge anymore
I hope when your lonely the only knock is a cop at the door
And I hope you never find the right size at a store
I hope they always get your order wrong
And over charge you plus give the wrong change back that you spill a soda on
I hope you always leave extra early and still catch traffic
I hope all your lighters get stolen and can't use a matchstick
I hope you always stub your toe
As your car gets towed, and your crows feet grow
I hope your always thirsty with no water
But when you get it every sip just gets hotter
I hope the shoelace in your hoodie is always lost in the middle
And the zipper gets caught and you always struggle a little
I hope you always get a hair in your meals
I hope you get so sunburnt that it burns til you peel
I hope you never have reception or get a station
And always get in to fights over simple miscommunications
I hope you're always under dressed, unless you're over dressed
And stain all your clothes
So in the end you're still a mess
I hope you never know that I've just rapped this for you
So you go on living life with the unanswered question of why this always happens to you
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 7:30 PM UTC
ten years
of writing
and sharing.
of erasing fear
from what I share.
a decade later
and I am asked
to be quiet, told,
I talk too much.
figuring, if I talk
too much, too quickly,
I have learned nothing.
so I write.
this place is safe
pen on page
words on screen
no real name
truly facing shame(s).
words can hurt
but writing can change,
an outlook, an image,
a feeling, a tone.
there's something about here
me, alone, with these words,
that stops the constant curiosity
of what others may say or do,
because with these forms of words,
only beauty may resound.
no, "telephone game"
of, "who said this, she said,
he said," distorted and mangled.
re-angled! painful miscommunications
avoided so simply. LOOK HERE, look here!
if you misunderstood, read again, or interpret.
these words were written for me and about me,
inspired, perhaps, by others actions or words,
but honesty can happen in abstract ways
much like the daze that follows, when one
says and they say, so instead, I choose to
hurt no one, on purpose or by mistake
instead I will express myself within
this realm of word play!
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 11:44 AM UTC
The pressures are rising but also falling on my chest
I can’t get out from under the tide, I need a rest
Mistrust, miscommunications, misconstrued words send me over the top
The anger continues to build inside of me until it feels like my heads going to pop
Working it out through weights, sometimes that can help
I am losing control of everything, how do I deal with something I never felt
Money issues, past actions, future homecomings, it’s all a part of this course
Lost at sea, feeling like I am drowning, I am struggling back and forth
Can I keep my head afloat until help has arrived?
Can I retrain myself and my brain? How am I to survive?
I used to be so happy, the joker in all cases
Now there is nothing to smile about, all I see are ******* arab faces
I can’t stand these people and we are put here and cannot do anything about it
They can bomb us on the road or shoot mortars to our chu’s and we can’t do ****
I’d rather be judged by 12 then carried by 6 is something I think of everyday
But all the red tape ******** we go through, these terrorists lead the way
If you are going to send me to war, let me do my job
Come out into the sunlight and get away from the fog
You tell me to give another year of my life away to you and wear the uniform proud
I can’t even look you in the face, you’re a fake and ******** is all you allow
You send me out on missions every day and you sit there comfortable behind your desk
You come with us when there is a photo op so that you can get medals pinned on your chest
You won’t tell us when we are going home; it’s this big secret you like to hide
Think about the well being of the soldier and family, take a look down deep inside
Maybe you will find some integrity, some actions that match what you say
Maybe you can remember what it’s like to live the code of a soldier, now get out my ******* way.
Jun 12, 2010
Jun 12, 2010 at 12:45 PM UTC
Talk to me more about miscommunications.
Tell me more about
These jumbled lips,
Misshapen teeth,
Boxed-off smiles you're carting around.
Convince me one more time that you're so perfect,
Please.
Cut my wings and ask me to take flight,
Again, I dare you.
I was strong
And in need of redemption
I was lost
And deserved a response -
Craft another elegant lie about how you loved me
And I'll use it as fuel for these flames.
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 12:10 AM UTC
if your heart once skipped a beat,
That's a pulse missing,
No oxygenated blood flow,
Veins empty as heart left in vain,
Love have arrived.
We die a bit, skips a bit,
only to be reborn in a stranger's shoulders,
Love is the problem and the solution.
It creeps in like a seed,
For sure you will water it
With tear drop
from heart break to miscommunications.
The seed grows
The seed glows.
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 3:40 AM UTC
Tall, with chestnut hair and a native face
Tiny, with white blonde strands and Polish features
From the same womb,
down different paths
Their voices hoarse with cries of anger,
Yells, screams and miscommunications
"Go home!" she shrieks
"And you wonder why I'd rather be alone!" she yells
Everyone screams,
"Don't you know about compassion?!"
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 2:34 PM UTC
This
Body.
This humanly.
Thing.
It keeps me settled.
In a skin
too tight.
Or is it simply
Too big?
This thing that takes me through the world.
When i rather
hover over it.
or fly.
This thing that
Relays information.
I can never
understand.
I try to make it
understand too.
In miscommunications
It never understands.
This body is a home
i haven't
moved into.
Where i know this is my place.
But cant unpack my bags.
And its taking
twenty years.
To only
settle in.
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 11:16 AM UTC
If I was good with words, where would I be?
Would I be in the position I am currently in?
Would I be better off?
Questions I've always had,
Answers never recieved.
Seriously though,
If I was good with words,
None of my messages would be interpreted wrong
None of my confrontations would end with the wrong impression
None of my presentations in class would consist of me babbling nonsense
And I would always know 100% that everything I said made sense,
because I'd be good with words.
Now, I know, People still may interpret things differently.
Someone might take my, "good worded phrase" and assume something else
I cannot change that, I know
But wouldn't that be cool if we could?
It would save hurt, and miscommunications
It would allow people to understand and move forward
It would bring about more happiness in the world, and that is something I truly care about
If I was good with words
I'd give someone the gift of happiness
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 6:36 PM UTC