"mutilates" poems
You think I'm oblivious
You tell me I'm stupid
you think it's okay
You think I don't know
what you think of me
to notice what you say
and you leave the words
on display
I don't hear what you say
but I can see the hatred
it suffocates the air
It pollutes me
not only does
it affect me
but it affects others
It mutilates the people
who stay around you
they become immune
to your pollution
They breath in your
hate filled air
and become permitted
to your profanation
You suffocate me
and you don't even
seem to care
Please let me go
I cant bare the words
lingering in the air
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
Here’s what a divorce does:
Divorce
Takes a remnant of a family from the house they moved into 10 years before
when their family numbered 6
then added a 7th
Divorce
Takes them from the house where a new daughter came home
a new Marine came home
the first daughter-in-law came home
the first grandchild came home
the newest daughter to be came home
where we battled illness and survived
where we laughed till we cried.
Divorce
Takes them from the house where friends have gathered to celebrate
birthdays
bonfires
a prom
a dinner dance
a wedding.
Divorce
takes one away
puts two in limbo
makes three leave
four-legged family members
who can’t live
where they are going.
Divorce
shatters family
abandons dreams
mutilates memories
condemns the future.
Divorce
only helps the one who wanted it.
4/13/2012
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 8:40 PM UTC
Strange times are surrounding us
The baby bird is eating its mother
The rain ascends and fog descends
Strange times are surrounding us
Superfluous confusion dissolves concrete
Medicine sickens the the terminally ill
Strange times are surrounding us
The ambulance mutilates the patient
The moon obliterates the unsuspecting sun
Strange times are surrounding us
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC
Cutting and slashing
Is love everlasting
Never breaking the skin
It mutilates from within
Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 9:55 AM UTC
She can feel a change, she's looking for it.
But she's a smart girl who wears lots of sweaters and drinks cocoa.
She talks about books and issues and kisses in the rain.
Yet, she slightly mutilates the natural state of her body in order to be deemed acceptable.
She is unconventionally beautiful.
And she does her loving in the winter time.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:23 AM UTC
Its gone
Said and done
Drunken stupor for you
Pushes me to the edge
Conceals the pain
**** the truth
My lips are burning
My organs are on fire
Swallow hard have another pill
Go to the place that you know
Blackness taste the best
Just like china white
Mutilates my spine
Allowing you to implant this disguise
Annihilate the cells that can't speak
Asphyxiate on your own blood and pain
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 1:15 AM UTC
Father demolished in a collision
Dark feelings brew in the young man’s soft murmuring heart
Pain in the eyes of his victims
Fear in the spine of his weakened targets
Hate in the frozen debt of winter
Angry and tortured night and day
Suffering screams, he mutilates them
Violence brought to a family on vacation
Chaos caused by confusion
Arrogant resentful greed
Father why?
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 1:06 PM UTC
i Know exactly who you are,
and i know very little of where you've been
who's touch left a mark
or suckled at your side ---
i don't really care to know,
but i also don't really care.
you may prEtend
that i am just another blindfolded
beauty --- you don't but you
Very well could
not at my expense
by in your defense
scared child
and one who chides
In fury
like a seesaw in sway
a question toppling another ...
i'm not trying to dig so deep,
it happeNs
it shrugs
you shrug
i tear on off
today tada no witchcraft here!
--- you know exactly who i am.
there is something i can't hide.
there's a place i don't know about.
and it creaks
collects dusts, mutilates
and folds over in a creepy
crouch, just Zoning inandout
of your consciousness.
you've found the deceAsed girl,
the 'I-could-never-love-a-soul'
under troll-bridges girl ... and i've been nowhere
but here.
and i know nothing of you
excePt as you are to me
when you're tangled in my extras
controlling your relAxandrelease,
and i'm the pretender, i act like i knew anyThing
before you
as you Atmosphere around me
and ship me off in mist to sleep
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 2:32 AM UTC
Let me hear him, let me hear him
Whose tongue does emphasize
A drama of frenzied elements
Impoverished by ridicule of vicious energies
That try to shape coherent form
Between contending factions
Thus registering predicaments
In a tragedy of vivid language
That mutilates a cannibalism of words
Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 5:17 PM UTC
Your love is hard
like rocks
in my belly
in the morning;
like starting the countdown
to a three-day drunk
a week later,
at every turning point,
every shadow
of an angle,
I am taking roads
I have never
crossed,
I am watching
water run
in crystalline rivers
toward alleys
I've never known.
When they ask me
for money
or Marlboros,
I say yes,
please,
I would like those too.
I would like to eat
bagels
in the sun
with crinkly paper in my teeth
and sour cream cheese
sweetening in the liquor.
My landscaper's shoulders
and granite deltoids
are now green with lime
and lichens.
Girls like to run
their
hands over them;
but they are hungry
for your hands
and the lavishing footsteps
of your fingernails.
When I wake up
I put enough water in the
coffee-maker
for about
twenty cups,
and enough
***** in those
twenty cups
for a three-day drunk.
Your love is hard like ice-cold *****
and boiling coffee
that
mutilates tastebuds
and
makes my belly feel real good.
But not talking to you for awhile;
it's easier to warm up in the morning
so I can cool down at night,
and by the pink dawn
of darkness
I could get back to working my belly
with ***** rocks, and
Marlboros.
Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 12:01 PM UTC
Bleeding eclipse splatters anguish, scorching frozen terrain
Reservoir transmits despair, vaporizing humid remains
Noxious fumes plague ventilation, incinerating methane mutilates
Inhumane detonations ignite smog, dismembering shrapnel decimates
Bombardments stimulate hallucinations, assailants discharge magazines
Incendiaries barrage trenches, vulnerability flourishes disease
Artilleries eject carnage, atrocious quarantine impedes retreat
Projectiles massacre infantry, heinous airstrike parries deceit
Howitzer impersonates tempest, kamikaze technique revealed
Nautical battleships converge, perilous adversaries concealed
Submarines launch torpedoes, oblivious warships sealed doom
Submersed submersibles clash, claustrophobic vessels entomb
Drowning agony crushes depths, forsaken lagoon transforms necropolis
Aquatic daemons consume decrepit, infernal torment surrenders providence
Condemned mortals cauterize compassion, genocide exterminates consciousness
Snorkeling corpses mound topside, eradicated infestation forfeited holocaust
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 8:26 PM UTC
pictures of past lovers are looked through the eyes of a woman scorned
dragged down into the depths of hell
by a fiery monster that mishandles me
striking yellow eyes
each breath felt on my bruised skin
he mutilates me for fun
my screams echos through the empty corridors of hell
all the while having to watch my past over and over again
made to relive each moment magnified
torture would have been a far lessor punishment
my face has to remain neutral as i look at pictures of lovers past under the careful gaze of others
the anger in my ever grows
these men they toyed with me as if i was not human
in there eyes my soul did not breath
i was no more than a second thought
i run through the corridors
trying to open doors while trying to stay out of the clutches of my captor
i need the find the door to mercy
i stumble
broken the monster finds me
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 7:00 AM UTC
***** everyone who says they’re “there for me”. You’re only there when it’s convenient for you. I mean, I can’t blame you. I’d be the same way, if some crazy ***** with ninety-nine problems and not one friend to help came whining to me. That’s a lot to deal with, I wouldn't want to get ****** into that. That annoying laugh. That horrible skin. ****** hair. Hypocrite. ****** ***** Over-emotional, easily attached. Clingy. Hard, if not impossible, to love. Cold. Selfish. Slutty. Such an extensive past with repeating patterns over time. Reputation: worthless. Ugly. Annoying. Easily forgotten. Needs help. Wants help. Dreads help... Doesn't want help. Self-medicates, self-mutilates, self-help not found. Reliant on others. Dependent. Immature. Irresponsible. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Violent. Stupid. **** up. Messed up. No one wants a part of that. The only ones who do are desperate enough that they don’t know any better. Once they realize their mistake, they leave—Leave! Gone. Goodbye… Goodnight.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 9:23 PM UTC
There's something awfully delightful about the burn as it mutilates perfectly clear skin.
There's something mysteriously incomprehensive about the power this pain has.
It can control ones life, it can ruin another's.
How unfathomable.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 1:49 PM UTC
"the roots of love come tumbling down" when the winter exits and spring takes over, melting the snow and whispering to the sproutlings
transforming the ice into a river, the cold into warmth, the deadness into newness
no intelligence decides the weather- if clouds thicken, rain abounds, if impressions ****** the soil to the worms
a single thorn mutilates our trust, staining any emblems worn that winter day, but
the crumbling love outside rests tonight
-c.j.
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 6:01 PM UTC
That song comes on
that one we danced to
and I can't stand it.
It makes my eyes water.
It makes my heart clench.
It makes my stomach sick.
And it plays on and on and on
even after I change the station.
It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
It leaves a sourness in my gut.
It leaves a sorrow in my heart.
Why didn't we work?
Why didn't we try?
Why didn't we do anything?
Why didn't we see the change?
Why didn't we linger a little longer?
That simple song
mutilates my peace,
tears my resolve,
tramples my heart,
clouds my mind,
destroys my life.
I hate you sometimes.
I love you more times.
But I still hate you.
For the love you gave
and stole so thoughtlessly.
But mostly,
I hate that you made a song
meant so much to me.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 3:00 AM UTC
In reality lurks creatures that hunt in the night & day
They call them serial killers who stalk for prey,
A chilling breed with thoughts consumed by a sinister desire,
Leaving a trail of death, only when caught do they retire.
The Mission-Orientated Serial Killer
The Organized Serial Killer, methodical & precise,
Planning every detail, checking everything twice,
They leave no trace, no evidence is left behind,
A mind where discipline & lunacy combine.
Certain ethnicity, religion or even ****** orientation,
Even people who work in the *** industry they feel deserve damnation,
They are ridding the world of its ‘filth’ & that they deserve to die,
Believing without them the world would purify.
The Visionary Serial Killer
The Visionary Serial Killer, chaotic & wild,
Driven by impulse, their actions beguiled,
Their crimes are messy, a frenzy of violence,
Leaving a scene of horror, a twisted defiance.
Some suffering from psychosis that causes them to lose touch with reality,
Their crimes will seem “random” due to their psychotic insanity,
Striking fear from the madness of their murders they create,
If they actually understand right from wrong is always the debate.
The Hedonistic Serial killer
Hedonistic serial killers can be broken down into three subcategories, lust, thrill & comfort,
Not caring for their victims nor their families they hurt,
A Lust killer who rapes, mutilates & kills for their own ****** gratification,
Thrill Killers hunting their victim or seeing their terror may give them elation.
A Comfort killer is someone who kills for money or for material gain,
To receive an insurance payout or an inheritance without a care for others in pain,
Their impulse, they are driven by lust, thrill and/or comfort they find,
To satisfy the hunger inside, is the only thing on their mind.
The Power/Control Serial Killer
A power and/or control serial killer, seeks dominance to inflict,
A thirst for power & whatever their twisted minds depict,
Taking away their victims’ lives, inflicting their force,
Exerting pain & power over their victims without remorse.
Driven by pleasure, a sinister domain,
To install fear in their victims is their campaign,
Leaving a trail of victims & having people fear the night,
They seek gratification; to play mind games they find a delight.
Each type of serial killer, they have a haunting presence,
A reminder of the deep darkness, a sinister essence,
Their actions leave scars, on the families & souls they take,
A chilling reminder of the lives they forsake.
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 5:18 AM UTC
/// • |
<>
\\ )
/\ /\
###
Playing with dolls
//// ////
I wrote a poem !
I said
YOU BROKE MY HEART !
The whole world rose up as one !
Everyone was crying
I FEEL YOUR PAIN !
//// ////
Playing with dolls
•
I want to thank you all for
FEELING MY PAIN !
•
I know we'll all be saying the same to eachother
When we're all in little pieces in the street
••
It's good to know
That when the WAR mutilates us all
We'll all be
FEELING EACHOTHER'S PAIN !
//// ////
Broken little dolls laying in the streets
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 2:16 PM UTC
.
child lover
Walks the neon midnight
Dreams of a reality
Softly emerging
•
But oh ! No !
...:
What's going on ?
//////
Questions linger
The child lover cowers
Drunken in alleyways
Staring at the scars
Waiting for the healing
That never comes
•• ••
Child lover
Lost in shame
::;
Wins the Hello Poetry DAILY
&
Proudly
Mutilates herself again !
AND LIFE GOES ON
)(
She walks the neon midnight streets
Where dreams of a reality
Die so very ugly
Pushes her shopping cart
With all her useless memories
Piled up and over-flowing
Onto the filthy streets
//
Remembers her old poetry
Her old gods and mythologies
Nights of neon splendor
And artificial stars
Shinning
Shimmering
In polluted skies
.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC