"nutcase" poems
I am --===not li==ving through this== hell = all over again!!
Leave==='' me alone you crazy ****** ****
from ME
Apr 15, 2012
Apr 15, 2012 at 7:22 PM UTC
One for the man bunkered down in the trenches
sent in by his country as a henchman.
He's laying in the mud, praying for safety,
losing less blood than what's shed daily.
In this hazy hell, a drug buzz is needed.
Morphine seeps in, easing the beaten.
And in no man's land, a man cries for mercy
but his cries are cut off by the hands of Murphy.
Early in the morning, he packs his bags.
Rucksack on his back, heading back to base camp.
There's a damper in the room, sunken like the marsh.
Friends have fallen, it's clearly marked.
And his heart aches but they can't be dead.
Nah, he sees them every time he lays down his head.
From time to time, he jolts up out of breath,
but he never felt more alive, when he was close to death.
It's not a sob story, no it's just old glory
Two for the man bunkered down by the park bench,
clutching a cup, praying for penance.
He's laying on cement, waiting for change,
and trying to stay dry from the ******* rain.
In this day and age, a drug buzz is needed.
Morphine tabs, tap in the defeated.
Lungs splitting, teeth gritting, he's wishing for mercy.
Two times the dose, he curses out Murphy.
Early in the morning he packs his bags.
Rucksack on his back, he heads back to PADs.
He grabs a tray, sits alone, and says grace
because there's no space open for the "nutcase".
Arm's race to golden gates, he dragged a debt.
He carried his country as heavy as regret.
He carries his friends, they dangle from his neck.
But the thing about memories is that you can't forget.
It's not a sob story, it's just old glory
© Matthew Harlovic
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 12:25 PM UTC
5 am you woke me up, to meditate.
I thought someone had died, someone had, me.
It was the ultimate time, you said.
Looking down, I had to disagree.
Can you feel the energy, she said.
I can’t feel myself, go away.
This is a window of opportunity she said.
There was a window.
Let us breathe she said.
This had never happened before, nutcase came to mind.
What is your mantra she said.
What is my name I said.
No, you have to reach out, draw in the energy.
I am going to reach out, it won’t be pretty.
Let me take you on a journey, join me.
I’ll phone you a taxi, blast, it’s your house, I’ll phone me a taxi.
If we connect the *** will be out of this world.
Okay, through the delirium I heard the S word
Mmmm feel it, Mmmm, feel it, Mmmm, can you feel it.
I can definitely feel something.
It’s getting stronger, we are one.
We definitely are.
We must connect.
We definitely must.
Before my husband comes off the nightshift.
Thought I heard the H word there.
Let us be one.
Let us wind back to the husband.
He is but a component in time.
What time does this component come home at.
Six, but it’s okay, he’s gay.
Thought I heard the G word there.
He likes to join in, which can be a pain.
When you say join in, what do you mean.
In the mantra, he likes to join in in the mantra.
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 5:38 AM UTC
Goodmorning,
precious nutcase.
Which side will I face today?
The neurotic one, to my dismay.
I can never tell which one you truly are.
I know, it seems bizarre
that after all this time
still I’m
so painfully unaware.
And I can’t force you to care.
How I hate you, Kerouac,
you made me believe I can live
with the crazy ones.
Oh how wrong was I.
After all this time
I still can’t tell which one’s the lie.
The one that l have to beg
and twist my arm out
to get attention
or the one that sends me
'I miss you's
etched in the sand.
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 2:29 PM UTC
They call me the Girl Down The Lane
And they say I'm a little insane.
They say that I seem a little tame
Until I poke dead things that were recently slain.
I like to dance in the rain,
And I like to mess with people's brains.
They call me ****** bipolar at times.
They don't understand this mind of mine.
They don't know that I can shine
If I wasn't so confined
In this society where I have to be kept in line
With Lithium and Loxapine.
They say that I'm a nutcase,
That I lost myself up in space.
I can't help that my thoughts race,
That my hallucinations are a replacement
Of others; I'm down at a basement level.
But they don't care.
So I'm that girl down the lane,
That will always, always remain
The same;
I'm forever insane.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 7:06 PM UTC
You’re not yet twenty-one and
Alcohol doesn’t sit well on your smooch-swollen lips.
When you hold his hand too tight
Your fingers gets sweaty from palm-to-palm contact.
It makes you think of the fact you are 75% water,
Or maybe 60%, and how your eyes burn in front of the computer screen.
You’re not yet twenty-one and
The doctor says you’re anorexic (you had fast food for breakfast).
White sage burns your fingers black.
The full moon pulls salt water from turquoise and home towns.
Maybe you’ll never see the beach again,
Or run in the water with childhood, clothes sticking to your thighs.
You’re not yet twenty-one and
Every day you consider giving up the race to it.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 4:18 AM UTC
5 am you woke me up, to meditate.
I thought someone had died, someone had, me.
It was the ultimate time, you said.
Looking down, I had to disagree.
Can you feel the energy, she said.
I can’t feel myself, go away.
This is a window of opportunity she said.
There was a window.
Let us breathe she said.
This had never happened before, nutcase came to mind.
What is your mantra she said.
What is my name I said.
No, you have to reach out, draw in the energy.
I am going to reach out, it won’t be pretty.
Let me take you on a journey, join me.
I’ll phone you a taxi, blast, it’s your house, I’ll phone me a taxi.
If we connect the *** will be out of this world.
Okay, through the delirium I heard the S word
Mmmm feel it, Mmmm, feel it, Mmmm, can you feel it.
I can definitely feel something.
It’s getting stronger, we are one.
We definitely are.
We must connect.
We definitely must.
Before my husband comes off the nightshift.
Thought I heard the H word there.
Let us be one.
Let us wind back to the husband.
He is but a component in time.
What time does this component come home at.
Six, but it’s okay, he’s gay.
Thought I heard the G word there.
He likes to join in, which can be a pain.
When you say join in, what do you mean.
In the mantra, he likes to join in in the mantra.
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 6:50 AM UTC
Waterloo Dreams Spent!
Outstanding.
His love.
In a fine muddle of loss,
In a pre-conceived idea.
The way to turn obliterated.
Imaginations images obscured.
Blocked by blinding light.
A nutcase in rebellion.
Without acknowledgement.
Love,
She left her emotions on the platform.
Down at Waterloo.
All the love she ever felt,
Turned deepest sapphire blue.
Abolition on the tissue,
She used to wipe her weeping eyes.
Along with words of worship.
Unjustly spent.
Before truth came along.
Then away she went.
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 1:26 PM UTC
I am not some peaceable pot-smoking hippy,
Or a ******** punk inclined to rage away.
Similarly not a broker, with no share of a real trade
Or a developer of putrid estates
Different from some disaffected political nutcase
Radical revolutionary, only in the way
That I still have hopes for change
Nov 1, 2023
Nov 1, 2023 at 7:15 PM UTC
you're the best actor i have ever known
i adore you and i am not alone
my friends all say that you are a nutcase
i would like to taste
your beautiful face
I've seen all your films
beginning to end
you were cute back then
the best pirate I have seen or heard of
love
sweeny Todd
ichabod
he is not too odd
johnny depp is best
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 7:24 PM UTC
I’m searching for my way, back to a place I didn’t belong, a place I used to call home.
The people there didn’t know me, the real me! They couldn’t understand what I was going through.
I left in haste, afraid of what they’d think if they saw what lives within this frail body of mine.
Tired of life and all its burdens. A mind that tormented me with sick thoughts of pain and torture.
Help me, I think I’m lost. I lost my way home, my way back to the innocence I once had.
To days of fadding memories of an afternoon sun filled with giggles and laughter.
Back to my mothers lap on stormy nights, filled with stories and maternal love.
back to the days before it all begun. Please show me the way.
I’m still searching, I have been for so long. I have no hope of finding my way.
It started as something small, a dark spot on a white sheet. A whisper in my head.
People say I turned mad. Another nutcase for the psych ward.
I don’t know, maybe I did, is liking the taste of blood that bad?
I’m tired of searching, my legs are aching, It’s time to accept, there’s no going back.
I’m letting my demons take over, I won’t fight the voices any longer.
I’m sorry if I hurt any of you, I really am; It’s just that I couldn’t tame this hunger.
I feel myself slipping away,as my last bit of reasoning is drowning in this abyss of darkness.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 3:37 AM UTC
Shout from the rooftops
those whispers in your ear
that schizos may speak
and their followers hear.
That nutcase Messiahs
and self-proclaimed Lords
may reign in the splendor
of ****** wards.
That demons be exorcised,
angels beheld,
and the Savior restore
what the Garden expelled.
That shepherds spin yarns,
flocks be well-fleeced
with no charlatan spared
from the reign of the beast.
Until virgins are satisfied
trimming their wicks,
and we see by that light
that we all need a fix.
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 5:15 PM UTC
Strange the way things are so easily broken.
Even stranger is how delicate they are when built.
Like hands, small... soft and gentle on a baby
But so easily destroyed by another.
Hearts... not an element of strength about them,
But they suffer the most and yet...
They continue to beat...
Sometimes slower like mine,
I feel the force of time
Slowing
Stuttering at points
And even SHATTERING.
we A world too arid... too destructive and self imploding
breathe To allow any such existence..... A Hero...
sin We slaughtered the ones we had.
and Jesus beaten and nailed to a post...
saviors Burnt at the stake... I suppose.
Because we are scared.
Petrified and screaming from a man
That had mastered redemption
we corrupted the only hint of peace we imagined.
we are the masters of nothing.
Now as he floats in space with the stars we murdered to save our "souls"
We bleed empty bones and blame everyone else for our guns to our head,
Shaking... will you smile when you die....
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 7:43 AM UTC
If I were a moneyed human,
I would buy us our first home.
I would buy the paint and knick-knacks
to decorate it as our own.
With this imaginary wealth,
I would buy every single book
and gently place them on the shelves
that would surround our breakfast nook
If I could stay this prosperous,
I would buy the L-shaped sofa
for our beautiful living room,
with the sandalwood aroma
If I could remain affluent,
I would buy anything to showcase
how very much your love has meant
to this silly, lonely nutcase
but I am not an up-scale girl,
I have no pennies to my name
I sadly can't buy you the world
and that truth brings me so much shame
but although I'm poor in pocket,
I'm super filthy rich in love!
so please accept my deposit
I hope for now that it's enough.
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 10:40 PM UTC
Stretched, torn, hauled
Churned inside out,
Bound in knots
With no way out
"Push on, move on
Get on with it!
Pick yourself up,
Just deal with it"
I wake, surface
Slump out of bed
Dazed in shower,
Wish I was dead
"Shut up, think straight
Sort out your head!
You're crazy, nutcase;
Hear what I said?!"
Yes Sir, though Sir
My bags are full,
I Truly believe
It's best for all
I can't go on,
Bereft, forlorn
Can't heave myself
My bones are worn
"Why act so bruised?!"
How can't you know,
Life struck me with
The penultimate blow
If it were simple,
I'd escape this place
But my son, you see
Is my saving grace.
© Karen L Hamilton, January 2016
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 7:51 PM UTC
I love to talk about random stuff that doesn't make any sense. Who wants to talk about monkeys and dolphins? See what I mean? I talk about things that make me smile and laugh. Even if it makes me sound like a nutcase. My friends know this about me and don't judge me for it. Freedom! I know, freedom is everything to every kid who wants to get out of school. For me, freedom means being able to have a say in what goes on and wanting to be able to express myself without needing permission first. Permanent! Let's think of dolphins for a minute. They are permanent. It's not like they're going anywhere! Hahahaha! I love to write and be weird everyday. It makes me feel alive. Now I'm gonna sing a song. Did you like it? Oh wait, I didn't write down anything. La, la, la , la , ala. Ala? What's that? I don't know. Okay, bye!
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
It’s midnight on June 24th. We’re returning from a “Hot Wax” concert - they were wretched. We’re heading back to Paris tomorrow, so we decided to just stop at the (Kube Hotel) lounge for nightcaps.
Everyone was stirred-up and tight as a violin string when we heard that the “Extreme Court” threw out “Roe vs Wade’s” constitutional guarantees - the latest signal of Americas ascendant entropy.
Following that, was a ruling that threw out New York’s gun restrictions. “Republicans wear compassion like a costume,” Anna pronounces, “what “right to life” IS there, if every nutcase can walk around with a machine-gun. Haven’t they been watching the news?”
Leong, who’s always willing to discuss the superiority of the communist system, susurrates, to no one in particular, “Abortions are legal in China and unless you have a hunting license - guns are illegal.”
“Maybe we should move there,” Lisa says, ingenuously, holding up her drink toastingly, her face tinted a gleaming, bourbon gold in reflected light.
Returning to our suite, 3 hours later, Sophy’s adopted a mode of travel involving swerves and leaning heavily on things. Which Leong, who was not doing much better, finds hilarious. “Use your signals!” Leong says after barely dodging one of Sophy’s flailing arms.
“Two loves I have - of comfort and despair.” Sunny quotes, in her richest, Shakespearian voice.
“There’ll be no uncomfortable beds tonight,” I say, searching my bag for my phone, which has the suite key in an attached card-holder. Charles’ room is directly across from ours and I see him shaking his head as both of our doors close.
We’ve adopted a motto, “live to exhaustion,” and I think, to myself, that we’re living up to it, as I flop onto my bed and the world goes dark.
Jun 29, 2022
Jun 29, 2022 at 12:04 PM UTC
.
( & little Sally sunshine with her tamberine )
::::
#
( • )
we are the stuff of myths !
( not this mundane human **** )
HE ****** ME AND I LOVE HIM
CAUSE IT FELT GOOD !
( yep -----
----- thanks for telling me )
))((
Crazy house blues !
Hey you !!
Ain't ya sick of it too !
( NO ? !!!!!! )
Crazy house blues !
::
I live in the mythological world
Of
Real People !
All 3 of us !
( we are the last ones left )
••
I clImb mountains
Up and up
I never come down
.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
I have a question burning:
. . . . What's the point of living?
My heart is pounding
I'm heavy breathing
My blood is boiling
My face is melting
My hair is pulling
My skin is itching
My nails are hurting
My eyes are clouding
My mouth is drying
My mind is waning
My voice is wailing
My hands are cracking
My stomach is churning
My strength is failing
My care is mortifying
My existence is joking
My work is freezing
My delusions are multiplying
My thoughts are racing
My life is dying
My hopes are groaning
My dreams are poaching
My will power is cooking
My mind's eye is glossing
My mood's-a-changing
No cylinders are firing
My desire is diving
The cycle is beginning
My peace is nuking
Beauty is crumbling
Life's code is encrypting
. . . . No key for decrypting
The way out is blinding
And I'm feeling
. . . . The top of the ceiling
. . . . No more flooring
. . . . Left falling, none for catching
I'm wasting
I'm choking
I'm running
The demons are searching
Me they're consuming
Me they're chewing
Me they're spitting
Me they're crushing
. . . . Causing
. . . . A raining
. . . . Hellfire reckoning
They want me deadening
Me they're taunting
Poking me, torturing
My debt not paying
. . . . It's me they're charging
No recourse, left standing
Consciousness is maddening
My enemies looming
. . . . Gleaning my soul, they're feeding
They're biting
I'm left crying
Hope is fleeting
Friends are fleeing
. . . . This nutcase entertaining
I'm stopping
Left looking
No one is caring
. . . . To grace my being
They see me fading
Cast into the void, they're jeering
Strangers are laughing
There's more I could be saying
But I'm still left wondering:
. . . . What's the point of living?
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 4:53 AM UTC
"Coming to the stage forever and ever"
"Give her a round of applause folks"
"it's her!"
Am I a show?
Am I forever to be in your lime light?
I don't like it
and I am hiding but it must be in plain sight
there's nowhere to run
nowhere to hide
yet, i fight
you fight
we fight
and I am dying inside
show after show
throw me the roses
a strange bow a
awkward curtsy
roses scratch me with each throw
I cry and I scream
but you just scream with me
I threaten you
and you laugh
now the audience laughs at me.
i made a funny?
Finally I run and try to dive off the stage
only to hit a glass case
now I discover the reason they laugh
I am the show, but im sure they all are a nutcase
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
***** you
I wish misfortune on your life
I really think I hate you
You like to talk about
How broken you think I am
But you’re not me
So but the hell out
You stupid little girl
Stop thinking I’m so hurt
Stop pretending I still like you
Cause I don’t care about you now
And don’t ask me how
I know
But you’re just a broken little girl
Who wants to hurt everyone else
You know I hate your freaking face
Cause frankly dear, you’re a nutcase
And no I don’t feel sorry for you
Cause there’s just no justifying anything you do
Cause now you’ve pushed me too far
I don’t care who the hell you are
What is your problem
Do you even know
Do you think you’re better than me
Well you shouldn’t think so
Do you honestly think that you’re unbreakable
Well you’re not, it’s just that no one’s tried
You hurt everyone around you
And yet all you feel is pride
You find joy
In thinking I’m not okay
Well I’m fine cause I know you’re not
Cause the people you need, keep going away
So ***** you
I don’t care anymore
Now you know how I feel
I’ve evened the scores
You act all nice
But you’re rotted at the core
Yeah you know its true
Cause you’ve confessed it before
You have problems
You’re sick in the head honey
You think I’m so nice for sticking by you
But the truth of it all
Is I’m waiting
For your downfall
And when that happens
I won’t be here for you
And no one else will be
Cause you’ll have no one left
I hate you so much
The thought of you makes me twitch
So get out of my life
You Stupid Little… (well you know the rest)
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 6:31 PM UTC
you need a certain amount of magical thinking
to penetrate the reality of the world
but just enough
to inform the development of your technology
and empirical studies
and no more
this is a challenge
which is why there is such a fine line
between nutcase
and genius
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 9:46 AM UTC
The golden nutcase - with an open and shut case/
View - on the few that are frozen in one place/
No, not this reality/
But a tragedy - of reoccurring blasphemy/
Toward the true God - who is rapidly/
Building up loads of agony/
Since humans are losing their sanity/
By rejecting love and worshiping vanity/
Such a malady - but thankfully/
In all actuality - God is a totality/
So in the end/
He will descend/
And share is fantasy, of morality/
In order to create a peaceful galaxy/
Without the the fallacy - of individuality/
You see, that is his strategy - so actually/
In the end - they call me crazy but I'm just the messenger/
Who registered - God as the editor of this earth/
He may give you death - but he also gives you birth/
Now it's up for you, to decide what it's worth/
Be yourself and **** low self-esteem/
'Cause life itself is steam/
It doesn't matter how yourself is seen/
By other beings/
Real recognize real - no need to change you/
Only the fakes out there wanna rearrange you/
Estrange you and cage you/
They fear the truth inside - so they hide - behind a mask just like Kane do/
At first they appear like an angel/
But shortly after they reenact the Story of Cain & Abel/
They're simply not able/
To deal with the cradle/
Of their wicked thoughts - and become unstable/
Unfaithful/
Toward their true self/
Mistaking true wealth/
With materialistic garbage/
Until their view is tarnished//
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
Isn't it interesting
That the only time
I have nothing to say
And nothing to rhyme
Is when my talent
I must showcase
For quite likely
A nutcase
I have a sense of humour
And I was "Lena Waters"
I forgot my email
Don't let me have daughters
Perhaps my finest work
(For angst does not equal art)
But my ******** profound conclusion is?
Poetry's still in my heart.
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC