"overindulgence" poems
R Red moon came to soon the red "Viper" love spoon
E Energy trembles hearts race eluding like the Dodge Viper
D Devil red ****** moons demolition Dodge of technology
M The moon of darkness dissolves like lava "Hot Male"
O Orderly overindulgence the moon at a comfortable rhythm
O Out of touch slowly getting back to your outstanding body
N New Age High noon time Eqyptian Nile moon neverending
S Shift of energy simplicity strengthens your existence
T Truly love for the family the moons makes a celebration
A- Able so articulate touch the moon lover fate
R Robin bird flies manifest the ruler the rider risque delighter
S Sensible and a seductive moon she is superstitious
C Circle of light sacred chalice not to be malice
An Amorous depth of feeling delicious Moon love key luxury
R Rituals turns to purity racing minds of sanity ♥ Car Vipers ♥
V Vampires blood moon lessons to be learned
I Ingenious Free yourself from anger all love inked
P Patience is a virtue Moon true Periwinkle blue
E Ecstasy the moon turns on the celebration of love
R Recollection of moon poems time to be Reborn
S Sensational Venus Soulmate of cars Sultry Valentine moon
I can't wait to come home soon that was a trip to my moon.
°• Dodge Viper •°”˜. zoomed off to the Red Moon
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 9:50 AM UTC
I got the job
It was the logical thing to do
Sweet sweat dripping down from face to chest, from chest to groin
From groin to thigh, from thigh to toe
I can consolidate this liquid in a jar and trade it for nighttime pleasures
The things we were told never to do are now the luxuries that keep us going
Something green, something brown, something resulting in the "stench" that the neighbors complain about
But I got the job so I can indulge in such cruelties
Silly financial problems creating stress resulting in overindulgence thus causing more financial problems
I can see the cycle emerge and I feel helpless and vulnerable
But no, no, no! Life is what you make it! A paradise, a jail cell, a flower, a hole...
I'll go with the flower, I shall feed it water even if it appears withered and dry
It may take a year, it may take a decade, it may take a lifetime, but you will bloom, my dear flower,
YOU WILL BLOOM! bloom, bloom, and blossom! BLOSSOM!
Jun 2, 2012
Jun 2, 2012 at 9:24 PM UTC
Why the ****
is seemingly everyone
so ******* slutty?
What the **** happened
to maintenance
of Integrity?
******
for the right words
or for the right look
or the right price
or the right Music
or the *right *****
the most important motivation to many
seems to be *Instant ******* Gratification*:
Please.
Such folly is childish:
Males and Females alike
seem to be equally Hedonistic
and selfishly manipulative:
What dissolute, reckless, selfish
Depravity of Sanctity
hath seized our Minds
with such wrathful, gluttonous, vain, lustful, and self-destructive
Epicureanism?
It seems to me
a Mind of Displeasure
recklessly seeks Indulgence,
and thus encounters overindulgence,
which then leads to overstimulation,
which in turn leads to depreciation,
which then manifests itself
as Debauchery.
Reputation
precedes you;
it follows you
as your social Wake;
Reputation
is the Name
for the Ripples
cast by One's actions;
Sometimes it is mere gossip,
rooted in vile, childish Spite;
but most times,
it seems karmic as ****
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 6:29 PM UTC
First time, commercial coffee shop
overindulgence, over laden with portfolio,
books, purse, and now cup: underdressed.
Far too few layers for a
shower of cotton *****
sticking to eye-lashes and hair.
Journeying from coffee shop
to bus stop; urban miles away.
piles of melty cotton *****
grab at my inappropriate shoes.
Too much milk and water
turn me off to Christmas in a cup
so I stick out my tongue
and allow my taste buds a play date with Jack Frost instead.
A lifetime away
a new place with new playmates.
This time leaves and stinky berries
push me on to my destination.
A new coffee shop with bells on the door
boasts bashfully of the same overindulgence.
This one small, cozy like
a thrift store couch or kittens.
Community and friendship present
me with that first cup of Christmas.
Someone from that other world
whispers the memory to me.
Again, my tongue
experiences the most joy on this memory experience.
Feb 1, 2010
Feb 1, 2010 at 4:56 PM UTC
Free yourself from yourself;
transcend your own Mind.
Mind is a tool that can be used, in any way seen as fit, but, it can also abuse;
it will ultimately dominate your existence, if allowed to.
Mind tends to lead One down the Paths of Overstimulation; Overindulgence. Overthinking.
To overcome these forces is to forge in fire a stronger and more complete Self:
Ride the Waves; but take heed of the Undertow.
You are in control until the point where you sacrifice it for peace of mind.
It is either a conscious decision or an act of desperation; subordination. Surrender. Defeat.
To sacrifice self-control for sake of comfort;
this indulgent peace of mind is hollow and fleeting,
a mere moment in the ebb and flow of Time.
Cling not to Peace of Mind; you shall be dragged downstream.
Seek it not; lest you **** yourself to a wild goose chase.
Claim it not when you have it; to disrespect it is to forgo.
Simply attempt to realize the ways in which you restrict yourself;
they ways in which you've yet to set your Self free.
Try to acknowledge the ways in which your Mind is your puppeteer,
rather than it being more mutually beneficial.
These malevolent mental marionette strings exist,
for no one is it ever a one-time struggle, it sure isn't for me;
Shadow seeks always to gain power within;
to corrupt your being from the inside out, and
it will always succeed if you don't redirect it.
*Mind can break thy chains as quickly and easily as it makes them.
It just takes awareness and willpower.*
Free yourself from yourself for yourself; though it's neither easy nor simple.
Free yourself from yourself for yourself; it is up to you alone to grow as a Being.
Free yourself from yourself for yourself; no one else is able to do it for you.
Free yourself from yourself for yourself; though you must teach yourself how.
Free yourself from yourself for yourself.
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 4:20 PM UTC
~
the language of love,
it has no equivalence,
we speak what we hope,
we seek what we love;
vacillating? perhaps,
but there is no ambivalence.
lovers whisper, lovers shout;
alternating between holding it in,
or getting the words out.
whether sweet words of friendship,
or letting the heart go,
each tells a tale, a heartbeat,
one the spirit only knows.
is it the “shemomedjamo” of Georgia,
the “overindulgence that
cannot stop this appetite;”
or “lagom” of the Swedes,
who speak of moderation?
where what i have and what i see,
is perfect, just right!
the words, “koi no yokan,”
from the culture of the east,
Japanese speak of the instant of knowing
a love that’s “meant to be.”
there is “mamihlapinatapai,”
used by those at the tip,
of Tierra del Fuego’s windswept cliffs,
a lover’s wish they can’t set free;
further north Brazilians speak,
of “cafune,” the sweet tugging
at her long and flowing hair;
a love that reaches,
strokes, so tenderly.
the Thai use “greng-jai,”
for love that defers...
and to sacrifice refers;
the French have “retrouvailles,”
a love that sparks rediscovery,
where distance knows no separation;
“onsra,” is a love
soon to be a thing of the past;
used in Burma and India when spoken of
a love that cannot last.
the “saudade,” of the Portuguese,
of love that can no longer be,
though it may have been consuming,
is now but bittersweet.
and then... there is Arabic’s “tuqburni,”
a love that says so gently
“without you i am dying!”
each, it has no English equivalent
yet somehow we manage...
we find our true love,
in relationships, in marriage,
for love is a catholic language;
even when there are no words,
where touch, where tender looks,
translations of the unheard thoughts;
where pillows hold the notes of longing,
empty bars and stanzas filled;
oh love, oh boundless one,
under steeples pledge your troth,
to death’s door you take your oath,
to forever sing your universal song!
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
Is this why
my eyes cry
and my heart
is set aflame?
Is this the reason
behind aching muscles
and weary joints?
Is this the cause
of my trembling digits
and crumbling esteem?
Or is it
just mere overthinking
and a sorry case
of overindulgence?
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 12:48 PM UTC
Dry leaves, Dark skies.
So little promises but so many lies.Maybe she is seeing other men .I want her to touch my skin again
Rumor has it that she is coming soon.I can feel her presence encroaching on my expendable solidarity .We used to make love once every blue moon But not anymore and I'm losing my sanity.
She pours her hard love onto my aching skin.I have waited for this like a tiger waits for prey. This sweet love tastes like sin. Overindulgence,petrichor and foolish play
She leaves me oh so suddenly Or maybe I'm just thinking selfishly. She probably has other men to please
She leaves me with nothing but a gentle breeze.
So little promises yet so many lies.
Wet leaves and Bright skies.
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 7:09 AM UTC
I want to be the abandoned house you snuck into every other night
because there was nowhere else to go.
Slam my trembling frame against the wall like an old vase
and smile as every ***** inside me crumbles like books off their shelf in the midst
of an earthquake caused from the faults inside your knuckles
and underneath your tongue.
I want to be every bad habit that you can't break. When there are no more walls to punch, you can leave holes in my bones instead.
When there's a pit in your stomach that you never can fill,
you can shove me in your mouth with both hands and eat fast
and feel me run down your chin.
You can savor the nausea from overindulgence
and grab the crumbs from off the floor.
You can tip me over and lick me up.
When you can't bite your nails anymore, my throat is welcoming your teeth.
Don't be afraid because this is your last lack of cigarettes;
You can always light me up instead, my love.
I can assure you my screams are more addicting
than what any nicotine can give you.
And me? I'm just addicted to the way 'good girl' rolls of your lips.
I'm addicted to being the reason you can't stop, won't stop, don't stop.
I want to be the response to your calls of desperation.
Listen closely to my hips and answer every question they could ever have with your tongue. Tell my neck things that you could never confess to any preacher,
and beg for forgiveness to my thighs until they've giving every ounce of their blessing
to your neck.
Don't worry about collapsing
I will catch all of you and swallow you whole.
Tell me I moan like an angel, even though I feel like sin.
I love the way my ribs creak when I hear you say my name.
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 9:39 AM UTC
Her thoughts so weary and bitter tasting
Forevermore to feel tired and wasted
Aging dreams and makeup nights
Feet so high she hits the lights
Falling for the guile of each street salesman
He opens his jacket; "Each is a haven,"
Claims of lightposts, illumination of the dark
She's falling asleep on a bench in the park
Urbanization of hardy measures
Have tempted her to indulgent pleasures
Whiskey whiffs of fallen kings
Street lights showing off the obscene
The days are gone of lasting serendipity
She's misplaced in what was once her own city
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 2:47 PM UTC
These are powerful forces;
heed them in the utmost.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 4:45 PM UTC
Overindulgence
can be habit forming.
A **** with diction
expounding
addiction will provide
rudimentary confliction.
Therein lies the problem
engraved on a needle
thrown in a haystack.
A **** or addict
can only shoot up
in a barrel that smells
of dead fish for so long
before stagnant water
leaves a residue and
film that peels off
quicker than a
week long scab.
To search for clean cotton
resembles digging through
a trash can for ingredients to
prepare a five course meal.
Flatware covered in water spots
are placed on a napkin that
doesn't dare dab chapped lips.
Fork to the left,
knife to the right,
and bent spoon shoved
in the back pants pocket.
If life is a box of chocolates,
overindulgence is the empty
box buried at the bottom of a
trash can. Struggle becomes a
wet glassine bag in an empty
wallet. And death is a pair of
silver bracelets. This is all about
over-extending, because if one
is enough, then two is too much.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 11:03 PM UTC
The past is never too far behind:
We can never live it down
According to Doctor B . Ford
It’s unbearable:
It’s haunting, it’s inerasable:
For the victims to relived
those terrible nightmare:
in hopes that it they will go away
Somehow it never does
The worst is to see your attackers
Smiling, and moving on to higher ranks
Youth was wasted on the young,
Privilege children: overindulgence few
Not so wealth, not so wise
Today their party until dawn
In the future they wouldn’t remember
An old folks saying
What sweeten the goat mouth?
Would burn its tail end
The higher the monkey climbs
His tail becomes visible:
As you move up the ladder,
Your party buddies will grudge you
Your past will haunts you
Your hidden secret will be found:
Youth is wasted on the young,
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
I watched a friend pass away due to her own sin
She knew where she was to be placed and she knew where she shouldn't have been
But her want for more drove her mad, causing her to go insane
And under that fence she went, breaking away from her chain
Into the cage she went, killing all the children inside
Once she gorged herself full of their flesh, I knew there was nowhere to hide.
I rushed in to save the day, all but just a moment too late
And not only did these poor babies die, but her attack sealed her own fate
I had chased her out, on my knees did I stay.
Blinded by my own tears in which I couldn't wipe away.
What had I done? How could this be?
How did she slip away from me?
Why did she feast upon their heads?
What could draw a creature to make sure babies were dead?
So as I pondered with tears in my eyes.
A shriek split the air and to no surprise.
I got to my feet and rushed to her form.
Which now seemed panicked and quite deformed.
Convulsing on the floor, choking to death
Trying to draw in somewhat of breath
The bones of those babies stuck in her throat.
As I picked up her fragile frame and caressed her back.
Crying harder as she suffered this attack.
For I could not remove it, that bone was too deep.
And her throat welled with blood that began to seep
Into my hands staining them red
It was about another hour before she was dead.
And here is the truth behind gluttony.
Overindulgence eventually gets the best of any
Who are brave enough to feast like a god.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC
A
smidgeon
of overindulgence
is sometimes necessary
to gain appreciation for
your own limitations
as well as the way
everything else
otherwise
always
is.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 12:59 AM UTC
is saving an antonym or a synonym for binge?
I want to believe I'm saving the best for last
but I'm only focused on how many bites I have left.
I consume faster than you can even think so
I like foods that require me to eat slowly,
the hardness of over toasted bread that *****
up your mouth when you bite into it, sour candies,
charcuterie boards that let me play with my food,
concentration on something other than the **** chewing.
the punchline is I've been dieting on and off for
three years but didn't start to lose weight until I stopped
I once kissed a girl who told me sometimes it
seemed like I was devouring her, I was
embarrassed at first until I realized
I'm just in a constant state of overindulgence -
tongue in my mouth
snacks in my sheets
I'm gnawing on you, gnawing on me,
still ******* starving
I have all the strain of being full but with none of the satisfaction.
Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 8:40 PM UTC
Sugar and spice
and some things nice;
are not too good
to have as food.
-------------
1. Refined carbohydrates: in the form of
a. white sugar
b. white flour
c. white rice
(avoid the above or anything made with them as much as you possibly can)
2. Cigarette Smoke
3. Soft Drinks
4. Alcoholic Drinks
5. Junk Food
6. Common Table Salt
7. Bad Company
8. Sedentary Lifestyle
9. Food Additives: in the form of
a. artificial colors and flavors
b. preservatives
10. Overindulgence in ***
11. Not enough sleep
12. Drugs
___________________
Apr 10, 2024
Apr 10, 2024 at 5:16 AM UTC
I can't stand this nonsense, this indifference
this moat around the edge of my sight. My life.
I can't stand this overindulgence,
this unfettered decadence,
while the rest of the world isn't even given the privilege of weeping.
Of sleeping.
Of light.
Insistingly,
I can't sleep - my dreams too a world without dreams.
An unfiltered montage of my insecurities playing out the reality I feel behind the forced optimism. The fanaticism,
for the smoothly ironed pressed.
Life.
I call out my own name -
behind the darkened and forgotten windowpane,
is the version of myself, angry, lonely and free.
Free of the freedoms that suffocate me.
Apparently I'm free to choose my fate,
my desk, my jacket, my dinner plate.
Yet where is the queue for self-expression?
For social justice? For unadulterated streams?
I am waiting, and getting rather impatient
with this facade
that we call 'the way it is.'
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 6:54 PM UTC
Addicted to the bottles,
Addicted to the pain,
I'm addicted to you
And it's driving me insane.
These ***** are my only friends,
They bring me warmth inside,
I think to myself,
"If I keep drinking, pretty soon I'll die".
The thought of death
Doesn't bother me,
It doesn't frighten me;
Rather, it brings security.
How will I go?
Overindulgence,
Or too many pills,
It wont be long before we know.
These thoughts run through my mind,
While I put on a fake smile,
All the time thinking of death
Or dying in just a short while.
Painkillers numb the pain,
But not for too long,
Pretty soon more pills are in my hand;
I take them to stay strong.
With bottles lined up,
And pills scattered across the floor;
A razor blade to the wrist,
My body propped up against the door.
Our lives aren't long,
Though life is the longest thing we do,
But I can't find the point of living,
If I can't be with you.
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
you're a sweet
weekend treat
with spicy hot overtones
and lingering aftertaste of
guilt and
overindulgence
lasting into Monday
for now at least
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 9:40 AM UTC
Feelings ran amuck the fine china
Overindulgence and sediments of past
A mind vandalized by the iron fists
Now looking for revenge to break free
Shattered pieces of fine china lay scattered
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 7:37 AM UTC
The thing is a heart devoured mine but left
An integral piece clinging on by strings of
Stomach acid and stationary organs
Knelling inside there are several swallowed fragments
Of who's I am unaware
But I'm congested he said
Overflowing from the inside out with dismembered hearts
My incessant overindulgence caused fury among many
But yours Forever preserved
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 6:38 AM UTC
A hammer is useless
without a hand full of nails
except for some kind of ******
speaking of which
isn’t your ego overdue
for its crucification
to absolve you
of all your flagrant
self inflected sins
and not to bash on your intellect
because I know
there isn’t much of it left
as almost all of it
has been spent
on the overindulgence
of your self gratification
you can pound it out
night after night
pretending that you love
everything there is about Jesus
with your hands
clasped in prayers
while making fists full of hate
believing you got a key
to the golden gates
while all you do
with your hammer
is **** any idea
that doesn’t align with your own
your heart is beating
for the only love you know
and that is your love for hate
believe what you want to believe
but even with a hand full of nails
all you can do is ****** yourself
as some kind of idiot martyr
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 3:36 AM UTC
Experience is important, but overindulgence is dangerous.
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 2:48 AM UTC
Is there a better tradition than Halloween?
When I was a child, cloaked in the velvety darkness,
The night felt like it was crackling with electricity, possibility.
Swapping candy, riding the trailer, being out late on a school night;
I realized from a young age nothing emboldens you like friends and the nighttime.
When I was a freshman in college, I saw Rocky Horror for the first time.
"Creature of the Night" rings in my ears as I
Put on makeup,
Take a swig of *****
Place on the final touches of my costume.
Halloween becomes a blurred vision of masks, laughter, and kisses.
Locking eyes across a room,
I am more alluring as
Daisy Buchanan
Holly Golightly
A fairy
Mary Poppins
Alice in Wonderland.
They're all cute, animated, familiar, warm.
Each day after Halloween is a sickly feeling,
nausea from overindulgence
I will always be emboldened by the night.
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 10:05 PM UTC