"obsessing" poems
sometimes i go off
about these worlds
that i make up
in my head.
because when the world
is so messed up,
don't you
want another?
i spend
so much time
just living
in these worlds,
just thinking.
about
trivial things
like:
how come clouds
get to be so high
that it's like they're flying,
when all they do is bring rain?
or:
why do we spend
so much time
obsessing over the fact
that we don't have much time at all?
but i think
that maybe
in these worlds i make up,
it's not so bad.
sure,
there are bad guys
but when are there not?
the thing is,
in my world,
i'm not one of those
bad guys.
i'm the one
with the cape
and the mask
and i am the one
who saves the day.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 5:58 AM UTC
Sacred fires burning bright
Purging the flesh of my being
Becoming one with the light
Scorching the cells of my mortal body
4 Illuminate
3 the masses
4 Self-immolate
3 to ashes
1 break
3 conciousness
4 cosmic I lapse
3 death cleanses
8 dissipate into the nether
4 essence of life
3 extinguished
4 the chains that bind
3 relinquished
1 Pain
3 Surging through
4 Serenity
3 Gleaming blaze
I, long to be cosmic,
dissipate into illumination
To, become the nether -
to lapse in lost
consciousness
Then I shoot off in space and time,
soaring through illusions
Light years from reality,
distant pixels
8 Obsessing through the tesseract,
6 scouring past illusions
7 beyond spatiality,
4 distant pixels
Drifting, no sense or feel
Flames of color, figments of my creation
Drift in-to the surreal,
Chasing fractals defragments my cognition
Dreaming in discordance
Life confined in simulation
A glitch in the matrix
Lies conceived through my perception
Breathe
I, long to be spectral,
fluctuate right through this oscilation
To, attain the ether -
planetary
cognizance
Then I shoot off in space and time,
soaring through illusions
Light years from reality,
distant pixels
Obsessing through the tesseract,
scouring past illusions
beyond spatiality,
distant pixels
Drifting, no sense or feel
Flash of colors, figments of my creation
Drift in-to the surreal,
Chasing fractals defragments my cognition
Dreaming in discordance
Life confined in simulation
A glitch in the matrix
Lies conceived through my perception
Breathe
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
The obsession you have with the size of your hips.
They should be smaller,
Don't you think?
Oh, and be sure to do whatever it takes to have that thigh gap.
It's so worth it.
That thigh gap.
The more space the better.
The emptiness of your body.
The jutting collar bones.
Feeling dizzy.
Feeling depressed.
Worth every inch lost off your waist.
It is worth your once full and lushious hair now falling out like dead leaves.
Because you're dying.
You are killing yourself.
But it's all fine.
You're obsessed with telling yourself that it's all under control.
Isn't it?
Theres no sleep at night.
Not when your anxiety is this intense.
Not when your up planning how to skip the rest of the weeks meals.
Use that time to be productive.
Like right now.
Lying awake... obsessing.
Obsessing.
Obsessing.
But it's s all fine, right?
Because that thigh gap.
And bony fingers.
You're deliriously falling over every **** time you stand, and you think it's all still fine now?
You think it's still worth it?
Isn't it?
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 10:18 AM UTC
walking through the woods i was surrounded by a plethora of golden bronze amber leaves tumbling in the wind sparkling with a star fire that evanesced from their jagged edges upon their descent. i stood entranced, mesmerized, utterly hypnotized by their glorious magnificence. i observed with intensity as a golden bronze amber leaf never having been attached to the majestic tree had no need to let go but gently released. feeling no trepidation it wholly lacked desire for manipulation to control the forces of the wind. i watched in awe and wonder realizing that it never disengaged from the tree knowing that separation is an illusion; it simply became the wind. whirling it shimmered in the autumn sun as it wafted with no need for reins allowing its destination to unfold. gingerly cascading it settled tenderly on the ground resting comfortably in ambivalence. i sensed it did not cringe when it was picked up by an unsuspecting boot but intuitively knew immediately that it was being carried and dropped off serendipitously at an auspicious location. i listened to it intently and drank in its essence as it simply lay in being not obsessing over what would happen consequent but sat in sheer stillness seemingly encompassing all totality. i was stunned to see that it lingered without judgment in undivided clarity for what wild synchronicity would come. it quenched its thirst in mystery while being completely at home in uncertainty. the golden bronze amber leaf seemed one with all that is while simultaneously retaining awareness of self-perception. as a gentle gust of wind coalesced with the beige fall sky it literally merged with the momentum enjoying the ride to its perfect destination. with delicacy it rested cozily in ambiguity whispering to me that heaven is a state and not a place. i vow surrender to black and white existence pledging fearlessly to climb higher creating life with vivid vibrancy adding golden bronze amber to my palette of colors with which i’ll paint.
©2016 janetaylor
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC
"Funny, I don't remember no good dope days. I remember walking for miles in a dope fiend haze. I remember sleeping in houses that had no electric. I remember being called a ****** but I couldn't accept it. I remember hanging out in abandos that were empty and dark. I remember shooting up in the bathroom and falling out at the park. I remember nodding out in front of my sisters kid. I remember not remembering half of the things that I did. I remember the dope man's time frame, just ten more minutes. I remember those days being so sick that I just wanted to end it. I remember the birthdays and holiday celebrations. All the things I missed during my incarceration. I remember overdosing on my bedroom floor. I remember my sisters cry and my dad having to break down the door. I remember the look on his face when I opened my eyes, thinking today was the day that his baby had died. I remember blaming myself when my mom decided to leave. I remember the guilt I felt in my chest making it hard to breathe. I remember caring so much but not knowing how to show it. and I know to this day that she probably don't even know it. I remember feeling like I lost all hope. I remember giving up my body for the next bag of dope. I remember only causing pain, destruction and harm. I remember the track marks the needles left on my arm. I remember watching the slow break up of my home. I remember thinking my family would be better off if I just left them alone. I remember looking in the mirror at my sickly completion. I remember not recognizing myself in my own **** reflection. I remember constantly obsessing over my next score but what I remember most is getting down on my knees and asking God to save me cuz I don't want to do this no more !!!"
- Delaney Farrell
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 10:48 PM UTC
I’m talking to you
in my head
been cultivating this shyness
since I was three years old
talking to inanimate objects
painted smiles, rubber-skinned
metal frames
turning wheels
the family minivan kept me company
as mountains rose and fell
like held breaths
let go.
playing games with pregnant raindrops
rolling down the glass
obsessed with the shark’s fin triangle
the wipers could not
reach.
I’m obsessing over seeing you.
always trying to be invisible
your eyes beginning to skim past I,
they didn’t used too.
*“The voices that once spoke love
but did not mean love.”*
the withered rose living
in the trash,
abandoned friends in the attic
forgotten songs
unfinished books
I am the forgotten
I am the abandoned
I am the left behind
cobweb-and-cotton-dust-collector
the silence connoisseur
I wear loneliness like an unwashed favorite shirt
If I die
Will you read this?
Does anyone else think such things
or is Tonio Kroger my only brother?
I am Kafka’s cockroach,
everyone is waiting for me to die
or to change into what you want me to be.
my name will not be in the history books
by the time my children’s children will have children
I am no one.
Everything fades in this world
like whiteboard-marker on acetate lives.
Desolate corners and garbage
tell stories
art is vandalism, vandalism is art.
and people wear diamonds but they are worth nothing.
and babies inherit their father’s eyes.
I am not yours.
You are not mine.
Isn’t ownership objectification?
If a man owns a clock
does the clock own the man?
Let’s be
money and greed
or
greed and suffering.
one cannot survive
without…
Let’s be
the mismatched pyramids
of wealth and population
form a parallelogram
like bricks on an unstable wall
never falling down.
Apr 15, 2012
Apr 15, 2012 at 7:46 AM UTC
I miss your *****
Almost as much as i miss your *******
I want you more than i can comprehend
These perverted thoughts i dont even pretend
Theyre not all i think about all day
Also i can honestly say
I ********** to her
At a massive rate
It blows my mind
How one of a kind
This georgious ******* girl is
Please oh please will ya be my miss
I swear ill be better to you
Than anybody ever you never knew
If you swear down youll be mine
Ill bring you flowers on valentines
Black roses that remind us of death and ****
Ill make sure you are aways well lit
High as a kite you know what i mean?
And dispite of how crazy it seems,
When i do finally greet death,
Hopfully overdosed on some neat ****
I will be embraced by satan himself,
BUT WHAT NO! WHATS THAT BEHIND THE SHELF?!
Out flys a glorious Anni
Chariot pulled by badass pegasi
She pulls out her mighty scabard
Slices and dices the decaying *******
wait wait went off track a bit
That last part...didnt quite fit
But im just obsessing
Seriously not messing
I want you so bad
It makes me so mad
I want you and all of you
Im not queit sure what to do
From there
But i dont care.
My one and only demand
I just want to hold your hand
Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 2:57 PM UTC
It's unfortunate that Parisians
Are very hard to bear,
In terms of flash obsequiousity,
They drive me to despair!
And patience is an attribute
I don't profess to have
To mercifully administer
When accents veer to Slav.
Baltics look like jellyfish,
The Germans are obscene
And loud and overbearing
But the Swiss are very clean.
Italians are a swarthy lot
Who gourmandize on food
And sacrifice their suavity
By being impudently crude.
The Spanish are no better,
In fact they are probably worse,
For obsessing in the blood sports
I actually rate them in reverse.
Starchiness is British
They're convoluted to the core,
The Old Boy system's lost it's sheen
Aspirants flock to it no more.
The Yanks are looking slightly crass
Whilst fighting foreign wars,
Their pinky held up squeaky clean
To call "foul" to China's flaws.
China sits inscrutably
Holding all the cards
Waiting for the moment
To strike beneath the guards.
India and Pakistan
Are squabbling like kids
The uproar over Kashmir
Rates them lower than the Yids.
The Yids are walking tightropes
With Iran's nuclear ******
Whilst currying Yank approval,
Eventual bombing is a must.
The Dutch behave so anally
They're always proven right
When faced with rigid negatives
They blanch with haunches tight.
But not the Argentineans
They love to dance and flirt,
To chase the senorita
Cavorting in the scarlet skirt.
The South Pacific's wallowing
They're adrift from World affairs
Oz's self preoccupation
Mirrors Kiwi's vacant stares.
Africa's way past comment
Lost to heat and dust,
Warfare, **** and pillage
And the rest decayed by rust.
Eskimos are OK
Clean living on the ice
The population static,
Zer-O pollution's nice!
Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
14 April 2009
May 2, 2010
May 2, 2010 at 12:08 AM UTC
Have you ever wanted to cry
To let out all feeling locked up inside
I experience this everyday
Not knowing who I can trust
Who I can turn to in times of need
Jesus is always there for me
I can speak to him through prayer
I love him more than anything
But I long for a human friend
Someone who will always listen
Whether I'm obsessing about a boy
Or stressing over an upcoming test
When things go wrong they'll be there
They'll know when I need a hug
Or a shoulder to cry on
God, will you help me find them?
The person I can trust with my life
Someone who feels the same as me
And will always support me
That's the kind of friend I need
Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 4:41 PM UTC
It’s a struggle waking up everyday
It’s a struggle having to smile
It’s a struggle to hold back familiar tears
I’m tired of living a lie
I entertain these bizarre thoughts
Dreams and scenarios in my head
Such a mess, such confusion
The same thing over and over again
I wish I could stop obsessing
I wish I actually had a life
God, I wish I could let you go
And finally cut all ties
But in reality, I know what I’ll do
It’s gonna be hard to closeup
I’m sick of always having around
You’re just a toy I’ll never give up
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
He got his hands in his pants
obsessing about her
fantasizing her touching him
who wouldn't ?
she had a body of a goddess
tattooed brown skin
curvy body
with and average sized assets
he wanted to her
solely for ***
but he's no different from the rest
the queue of guys
lining up
with their hands in their pants
trying their best
to get their **** in her
May 22, 2020
May 22, 2020 at 2:09 PM UTC
Use your pen to be expressive
express yourself and be impressive
impress your will to be progressive
progress of the muse possessive
possessed by another expression
expressing myself is my obsession
obsessing over words in succession
succeeding is hopeful in every session
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 11:06 PM UTC
I haven't forgotten about you
Even with all this time apart
I still want the things I said I do
There's still so much love in my heart
I should've move on a while ago
But when I love, I love for good
It's a lot easier said than done you know
I mean I'd let go if I only could
Maybe apart of me doesn't want to
Because I'll lose you for good
There's never been anyone like you
Who can do the things that you could
I don't mean to come off as pathetic
But I refuse to believe this is the end
Has all this obsessing made me lovesick?
I can't bear to just be your friend
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 1:10 PM UTC
empty water bottles everywhere
cheerios on the floor
I can never keep track of myself
or the food I bring out of the kitchen
I'm worse than a bachelor
& my Benadryl is almost gone
I need it to sleep
sleep and to dream
so maybe my nothing
will be something
that it seems
I cannot stop obsessing over
how lonely I feel
in my new married life
I feel better talking to people
I barely know
than I do my own husband
they say the first year
is the hardest
but I think I've just always felt
this way
when your heart clings to something
you can't have
the feeling never quite frays
never quite
erodes in its natural form
I find myself daydreaming about
things that don't happen
true love that doesn't come true
romance is not abundant in these parts
chivalry is carved on a tombstone
a few blocks from my
apartment
& I'm lucky to get a kiss on
the cheek whenever
I walk by
I want to believe that
there is some man out there
who would build me a bouquet of
wildflowers
& play me some classic rock
ballad about eternity
maybe he lives
in this house
maybe he lives
at all
Apr 5, 2012
Apr 5, 2012 at 12:12 AM UTC
He comes for me when I'm sleeping,
He comes for me when I'm awake,
He won't stop freaking obsessing,
My heart cannot get a break,
Why won't he leave me be,
Can't he see my panicking,
He's everywhere I can see,
He won't ever let me free,
I feel my throat closing in,
He'll just revive me over again,
I can't leave him alone anyway,
He can't leave me be for my sake,
Harder to **** every single day,
Distraction is key but I won't get my way.
My mind's a murderer,
A real ******
Imagine being locked up,
Somewhere inside limbo,
Not being allowed to freeze,
**** near hard to breathe,
For my sake, I need some peace,
My mind doesn't know how to cease.
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC
She fell in love with
the curtain he hung up
around himself;
with the gloss of
woven power.
She became deeply
infatuated with
the slippery silk
hunger of the facade,
obsessing over the
little lustful
beads.
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 12:59 PM UTC
I used to think,
"Oh I want to be skinny. I want to look like a model."
And then I watched
a childhood friend
deteriorate in front of my eyes
after obsessing over her weight.
She went from this beautiful
young girl
to this hollow,
****** in,
bulimic and anorexic shell.
It's a sad day when you don't recognized someone you've known your whole life
when they walk up to you
in the gas station.
I don't want to be that.
A shell.
So **** being skinny.
**** people who think y
ou need to be thinner.
Just **** society
and
always
be
you.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
I adore the crispness of an apple,
Thin, breakable skin
Encasing **** flesh,
Hiding danger in small doses.
Its dewy, red skin,
Could ****** anyone -
From Eve to Snow-White.
A bite and you're done for.
It's a dangerous fruit
To get from a stranger.
A witch in disguise,
An old lady,
Or God.
But you?
You didn't offer me apples.
You offered a single pomegranate,
Hard to crack open,
But hides dozens of nectar-filled seeds.
A single one won't do the trick,
So why not have some?
Just a little.
You?
You opened it,
Wide and inviting,
And watched me get
Addicted to the unsuspected,
To the soft and juicy insides.
You?
You watched me count the seeds,
Almost obsessing over
The delicateness of each one.
Blessing you,
Praising you,
Before biting into one seed,
Or two,
Or a dozen,
Or ten thousand.
And I?
I followed the pomegranate's many, many seeds
Feeding and feasting
Right from your hands.
Finding pleasure in the poison,
Innocently falling captive,
Taking the bait,
As you march me straight to hell.
It was too late when I realized,
Apples are for witches,
Pomegranates are for worse.
Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 4:10 PM UTC
Spending intangible dollars at the mercy of my ever growing appetite,
Instead of buying my ticket out of this perfectly advantageous country,
Which focuses solely on my beauty and money.
I neglect my inner advice telling me to drop it all and run,
To where I can breathe and focus on God,
Promoting a healthier way of living and improving humanity.
Momentary hope that unrealistically characterizes perfection
As a quality that I can mentally download and miraculously make the above, true,
Never seems to linger long enough to actually induce action,
Which leads to disappointment draining the motivation essential to recover my missing pieces,
Which pushes me to crave cash I don’t have, to pick up that dose,
That hushes the unwarranted guilt that seduces me into thinking that I’m not incredibly blessed,
And that I can’t handle what I’ve been dealt,
Blurs the doubts I have about my abilities, my self- worth,
Forcing me into a state of content that awakens my creativity,
While vaguely being able to make out memories of let down led by myself and my mother,
Who was a part of what was never good enough for my idea of a perfect family.
I’ve wrongly accepted that a mediocre life-performance is to be had while following the crowd,
While obsessing over flaws that are negligible to my true purpose in life,
And with that I’ve become stifled by the decision to remain effortlessly stuck.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
When we found out we weren’t the Center of the Universe
It shook the core of our collective selfish selves.
We called the findings blasphemous
We charged the scientists as heretics
We realized we were less than specks of dust
But worse off because metacognition is unrelenting.
After all these years
The stars remain indifferent to our presence
But we study them all the same
Doting them like a school girl obsessing over a secret crush
Extrapolating their composition while they don’t bat an eye
Humbled at the horrific beauty:
A lonely planet orbiting all too busy universe.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 1:10 PM UTC
The most you left the house in a week
was a peek out the screen door
All those exposed scurry about out
there and falsely carry your irrational fears
You think they care to judge you ?
Are you reading their minds
from a passing bored glance?
half read pages cracked open spines
books don't talk back or have eyes
You watch tv all day long avoiding
real human contact .
So proud of the few phonecalls
that you make and take
as if you had allowed yourself
to meet outsiders from another world
Stop avoiding life and don't waste time on tv
organize , clear your clutter seize the days
these hopeful fresh days without obsessing
about things you can't change
exchange tv remote for will and action
come alive honestly out of your moonburned
pale skin
pity filled shutin
go with purpose
brave worldly wounds and heal all at once
don't be just a phonecall
Apr 4, 2010
Apr 4, 2010 at 8:31 PM UTC
i forgot your birthday
it was in may and i was only reminded
today when i was looking through my pictures
and so the one that we took last year,
i laughed at first because i looked ridiculous;
my hands were awkward at my side and my hair
was a disaster because of the wind but that
didn't matter because you held me tight anyway and
i cannot help but be brought back into the moment-
your hands intertwined in mine and my head leaning on
your shoulder and i remember being so excited to
watch this movie although at the end i can't even tell you
what happened because i was too busy looking at you
and you noticed because you would roll your eyes
and tell me to stop starting at you, but i couldn't
and i can't now, i can't stop staring at you in this motionless
picture, i can't stop thinking about how happy and naive
and ignorant we were i can't stop obsessing over
that dimple in your left cheek i can't stop loving you
and even though i forgot your birthday i think i cried
more today than i ever have because my worst fear
is coming true, i am slowly forgetting you and
soon you will just become another story i tell to my friends
mindlessly to waste time, i will never again have the chance
to stare at you in a poorly lit move theater and i
will never again be afraid of being caught,
what we have is completely over and i know that there is
no hope for me to hang on to anymore because i didn't call
you on your birthday and you didn't call me today, on mine
(h.l.)
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC
By Sharday
"Old Fools"
Old crudes.. appearing as Fools gold. The Irony. When you offer joy and laughter.. and all the best to offer in kindly spoken joyful chatter.
When you only offered a sprinkle of smiles and sunshine's. A regular day by short easy breezes to fellow online unknowns you never ever met in the flesh and briefly known online.
shared with them smiles and sunshine of encouraging crispy apple finds. To wish they smile with glee and inwardly are filled with bitter unrest.. Unknown to most of us. We only see the clown painted hidden face. A true face of sunken holes filthy craters in mold. The corrupt soul waiting to unlease it's misery soon as the old fool see, your joyful positivity isn't gonna stay for the foolery.
How you can't be captured, in the web of rotten hell where the Old fool dwells. Just wash your hands wipe your virtual feet from where you ventured and never again there enter.
A fool full of liquor and utterly bitter all of its own. To whom you never did any wrong. Yet the fool will claim you have. Is a stalker web crawler, harassing fool.. Report the stalkers harassing's obsessing's words of hate. The fools mouth of polluted lies disguised as crafted blind leading the blind sorrows.
A brief encounter online in 14 days causes a fool to write so much **** poor chatter.
Obsessive, stalker, old fool, not your muse, move on fool.
Psalms 18:2 "A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing his opinion." psalms 18:2
Proverbs 29:2 If a wise man has an argument with a fool, the fool only rages and laughs, and there is no quiet.
Sounds like a abusive deranged so madly insane. Type foolish, type thang. Can't find a away to stop using you in written metaphors. Like his pictures of he wish he had ******
Keep virtual 911 on hit report speed dial,
this fool seems a virtual danger stranger chillld.
H.E.R_Poetry...#Over.It..
Aug 28, 2021
Aug 28, 2021 at 12:23 PM UTC
I think its ridiculous we no longer talk
All I can do is remember the good times
The laughter and smiles we had together
You'll always have a special place in my heart
I wish youd forgive and forget
I wish things between us didnt end in regret
One more day together like the good old days
Its not about being right
What we had wasnt wrong
Being my friend felt right
Now your gone now im obsessing how to make the wrong right
Eventually well see one another
wish you the best im a friend forever always be loyal
Years may past thoughts of you cross my mind
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 3:34 AM UTC