"pacifier" poems
is a carniverous cemetery,
is a pacifier,
is a dry **** on a friday night,
is only enough liquor to get you buzzed,
is a ****** bag cop,
is a church with splintered pews,
is sinners scared shitless,
is a two-year-old with an affinity for violence,
is my ex-girlfriend,
is paranoid,
is a blanket of all your favorite prescription pills,
is worried sorority girls in dark-wash jeans,
is unshaved,
is a cancer,
is a perpetual spell-check,
is lonely,
is my mother
and a god-awful toothache.
Oct 21, 2010
Oct 21, 2010 at 11:42 AM UTC
The spider Queen, aloofly vain!
She rules a silent ruthless reign,
with black-bead eyes like pearls of rain
that damp the depths of her demesne.
.
.
.
A spider spins, with nimble feet,
a sticky web of grim deceit
that drapes the corners, dark, discreet,
in catacombs of her retreat.
Her jointed legs (in number, eight)
traverse the threads with stilted gait,
but often more she'll lie in wait
within the hub of her estate.
Shy spiders live their lives alone
ensconced within a silky throne;
unless a transient guest comes flown,
their lives bide empty, monotone.
.
.
Well, now and then, a sullen breeze
may twitch the toils, begin to tease –
yet nothing's caught and nothing pleas,
so patience's bid at times like these.
But then again, when stars ignite,
may maunder by a gnat, by night,
be taught a dance, a writhing rite,
within a lace of death, wrapped tight.
Sometimes a spider's in the mood
and waits awhile, whilst being wooed –
and then, to later feed her brood,
the widow slays her mate for food.
In time a spider dies, 'tis true,
bequeathing but a residue
entwined, devoid of retinue,
in fibers decked in silver dew.
.
.
.
One asks "What purpose serves the GNAT –
to feed and make the spider fat?
Well, 'tis perchance just naught but that
within a mindless habitat.
.
.
"Yet, what's the aim?” you may inquire,
“at the heart of MAN's desire.
To which goals should WE aspire
reaching high and reaching higher?"
We've, through the ages, left the mire,
trundling wheels and taming fire,
doing deeds that must inspire,
nursing needy, calming crier, …
Such things as these, most may admire:
- placid dove and war defier
(some are bolder, some are shyer)
- patience (mess-up mollifier);
- humankind (Life's justifier)
- charity (charmed self-denier)
- tolerance (proud pacifier )
- love of Life (folk unifier).
What more could we, as flesh, require?
Needless kneeling neath the spire?
Childish chanting in the choir?
Preaching hell's impending pyre?
No, Death's the only rectifier,
comes the instant we expire,
nothing after, sentience prior.
So, treasure Life and don't deny Her.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
avenue sounds are never agreeable, ignore the drift,
ignore the hum,
ignore the suburban neophytes in the city lights (I never did care much for hipsters).
ignore rapid eye movements, the flush red face, ignore the snapshots of you that adorn my semi-sleep state
I stare at my ceiling and see the cobblestone summer streets you once graced, long ago in the eternal occident, I want to ignore but I’m so very boozed, in a blue lucid slumber:::
eyes closed::: my head spins and sleep begins with the tidal delirium of dopamine drips, your legs, your hips, I’m drowning a bit, doused in a sanguine sweat inside a fantasy **** I’m dreaming of you**)
Synaptic friction
she is a pleasant fiction
flash/sparks segue a dormant memory ,
the two of us riding familiar highways::: she gazes at me with her usual emerald encased ocular torment, those limbal rings cast aspersions at the last vestiges of my will power, until, I’m done, done in by the divinity of her lips:::
There is no end to (your) energy
It even finds me here::: in my dystopian dream (eternal)
now
an inescapable, **myopic curse
(nocturnal)**:::
the nightmare of not having you near
Awake, I roll over to clutch for the pacifier of your comfort (violent midnight)
I find only a fragrance,
i flail, searching, when those flashbacks fall short
isolated into the banality of bedsheets and pillows pleats
(the retrograde nature of my reality, now readily apparent)
cdh
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 12:28 AM UTC
blueberries gasoline and prostate gland
breast cancer Wonderbread and pacifier
controlled experiment space travel and honey
peanuts inductive reasoning and electricity
tornadoes torture chamber and biscuits
copyright car radio cantaloupe
golden eagle lunch break tomato
Romanian songbook rhubarb and barbed wire
always hungry nevermind meat loaf
goosefoot mango juice Ipad
mosquito bite city street and broccoli
Chinese cabbage female *** drive water sport
pure contralto goat yogurt new year
black death white light and green tea
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 8:28 PM UTC
the cosmos exudes from between our toes
trails of nebula and spiral arm galaxies
burden the floor with their scented residue
of caramel complexion on mint cream -
expectations fall to the wayside
as the wayside falls to expectations
trust in the infallible,
if the world ( is to me )
saved from the virtuous vindication's of a pacifier society
run to the nearest tree and sway with the blustering breeze !
for the cosmos exudes between our toes
trails of nebula and spiral arm galaxies litter the floor
tell me a tale of who i am ,
yet i know i have not felt myself in my fullness.
for i was born before the cosmos could take her first steps
or the sparkling sun stars could take their first light
i am neither the mountain nor the valley in depth
but within both i am sure to reside ~
out of my womb cascades a waterfall of pixie dust to the glee of several a man .
yet i always had wondered why none stuck around to hear from the well versed band.
I was quite sure the depths that i knew how to love
would create a whirlwind of sorts
enhanced by the glow of a dark purple blue rose , i’m not quite the type for rose quartz
to spend my love ***** nilly , a silly endeavor indeed
not all can handle the burn as i am
Light Sky ,
a fire filled sky ,
i am the sunrise dripping from the heavens in mellow tones of yellow and pink , i am the solar eclipse, sacred geometry in motion
and by association
i am the high tide moon shine get you drunk off one look sunset in the desert , dark purple blue rose kinda lady.
and you ,
my earth breeze , can whistle up a tune to jam with me , like no one would ever believe..
The cosmos that exudes between our toes
stacked layer upon layer
like a pancake tower
are the places we go to when the world
closes it’s eyes.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 12:46 AM UTC
so let me tell you of my digressions
my hopeless realm of repetition
i am armed with
2 blacks
4 grams
and a pack of sour patches to keep me snackin
i have yet again
settled in
to my barb wired trenches in this hell
Better Is The Devil You Know
Than To Go Fishing For A Stranger
so i sit calmly
because i suppose it is
Better To Be Patient
than to act out of this anger
cause ive considered killing you at my leisure
Why **** Him
Cant You Just Leave And Feel The Same
Satisfaction
no
cause if i could then
would i be here smackin on these cracklins
I brought those to delay the decaying of
teeth as i endudge in
what's first sour then sweet
my cavity
and i fein
from one fix to the next
Oh wrong C
i said Cavity
i mean
*******
Crack rock
Crack baby
reaching for that pacifier
higher and higher i go
while diving deeper in this hole
no point of return
no lessons were learned by previous heartaches
i ache
cause i aint
exactly who i used to be
grabbed by my foundation
and ripped the roots from under me
God Heals All Things
But what about the ***** that breaks ****
takes ****
gets it how he lives and makes ****
Cause this sweet southern soul
is growing old
and i've been told that revenge is so sweet
and baby i'm gon eat
the troops have been patient
but now
we brazen
and a revolt is all i see.
Dec 21, 2012
Dec 21, 2012 at 10:23 AM UTC
Blood splatter
Brain matter
Arms crossed
Children lost
You shouldn’t get
To look away
Cold metal slabs
Filled with bad
Rooms brimming
Ready to burst
With the sad
You shouldn’t get
To look away
Bone fragment
Metal shards
Bombed out buildings
Scarred the yard
Flowers crushed
Before their time
You shouldn’t get
To look away
Open wounds
Pacifier soaked in blood
Children in school
With nowhere to run
Can’t hide from
A bomb
Can’t find a tunnel to sanity
While this goes on
You shouldn’t get to look away
Madmen don’t live in asylums
They wear suits and ties
Eat power lunches
While bombs fly
Turn a blind eye
For profit
No matter what it costs
You may try to hide
Let others decide
Who lives and dies
But no one should get to look away
See what’s left
Feel their pain
Give me your reasons
Try to explain
But as long as it happens
Again and again
No one should get to look away
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 3:00 AM UTC
Dynamite on my magic carpet tongue
That’s the last thing I remember
And she, she was the boldest Aries
She led me out the backdoor
Till we reached a brick dead-end
That’s when this deadly charade began
Never knew love quite like her body heat
And the silken robes we wore became ragged cut-sleeves
And I’ve always had a floater
But these trails are a different breed
And she’s spinning my quarter
But it never falls for me
And my friends in the backyard are watching snakes unfurl
As they stab the red earth and finger their pearls
But I prefer the garden pool, it keeps the neighbors far away
And one tiny matchstick is the only heart I have to play
I thought I had real love, I always put my hands
On her bony shoulders, she liked it then
We all raced to hell in a golden-rimmed chalice
All part of our big, of my big experiment
But infidelity can’t be commanded
Guess I always had a pacifier cold
My crutch of loneliness transformed
Into beds and vanity of old
I pushed them all to sanity’s brink
So I celebrate their pink departure
Rolling round’ in candle wax
Scrambled tape and fear’s embark
Created a demon, thought I was Byron
And this little pet became the death of me
Perhaps I should’ve asked a question to myself,
Burnt my house down, and swam more often in the real
Too much pride to call out for help
Always too much pride
There goes a shooting star
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 5:52 PM UTC
You're real bold with that text
"Yes baby. Slobber all over that ----..."
Sorry, NEXT.
Boys want Women to tend to their pacifier
But to think you'd think that I would even....
"Tch, The devil is a liar."
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
Round 1: New Life
Entered abruptly, this world out of the caretaker’s womb
astonished by the awe of unusual surroundings
so unlike the comfort of the nine month pacifier
images fade in, then out, and in, then out once again
feel this empty sensation, deep inside the belly
initially a murmur, then a monstrous growl
shall this need drive the emerging beast…
Round 2: Survive
Astounded still, by the incentives from the senses
nonetheless, comprehension builds mostly from stumbling
and the consequences of actions may honor or condemn
imitating and discovering, touching and tasting, the wants
hear this curious whisper, deep inside the mind
initially a hum, then a vicarious voice
shall this be the song of a destined course…
Round 3: First Love
Twinkled eyes, with the melody of hypnotizing admiration
wanting so fierce, the heart skips several beats
beauty so pure and deep, the skin becomes totally immaterial
can’t eat, can’t sleep, want to caress this haunting dream
but wait, maybe the feelings lack mutual perception
then to experience the piercing silence of rejection
shall this fear define the character…
Round 4: Nuptials
Exchanged vows, two mates to share eternity as one soul
to nurture one another with the food of selfless care
instead, demons from the spirit’s dark side arose
mistrusting and abusing, suffocating and killing, the love
no room, no place for compassion and understanding
only the refuge for a hollowed indifference
shall this be the start of a fragile heart…
Round 5: Bounce Back
Continued hope, for the chance to champion a cause
to humbly honor the truth in self and in others
reckless to the tangible constraints weighing on the mind
to decease, to desist, the will to life’s tribulations
the blows come and go, a jab here, a jab there
striking with unforeseen yet uncanny precision
shall this bell ring in the final round…
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 10:03 PM UTC
They slipped a roofie
in the wishing well
Now we're all on some ****** up
American wet dream
Baptize the ********
In the sacred swamps
laced with chemicals
They bottle feed
We're the children of the same struggle
Hungry ghosts of the nursery
Pacified by the message
they shoved down our throat
via the animation machinery
with malicious undertones
**** on this
Oral fixation
Choke on this
We can fix it
The problem you see
The problem we invented
it's what you want
to be ailed with*
The hypochondriac
vs. the human conditioning
Prescribed apathy
They want us numb
Some scared sick lullaby
along we hum
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
"Wah. Wah. Wah," the crybaby said.
Her insecurities are always, constantly being fed.
Then they shove a pacifier into her mouth.
To ignore their blabbering self-doubts.
mama. <3
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 6:23 AM UTC
hunger my contraceptive
blood
my wristwatch
someone to boil
the mannequin’s
pacifier
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 11:28 PM UTC
Pain, so irrevocable
Always too late once muttered.
You slice & dice me
And, I
Sprinkle you with lovers dust.
You pour petrol on an already lit fire
The smell still lingers days later
And, I
Seek out sweet medicine
Caressing your wounds;
Aloe Vera grows abundantly besides what we once called home.
You're the dog with her tail between her legs,
And, I
Gather you in my arms as you cry
A baby ripped from the womb
too soon.
© Sia Jane
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 8:19 PM UTC
Read, sailors, read
Try your best to make blinking your only sleep
Time is so tightly wound that
All the blinking, crying birds could not fathom
You have been given a mighty, starstung ship
With sails so wide they could cover your reality
Use these sheets not to sleep, but
Fly them like monster kites
Rest, doves, rest
The fear that you feel at the bottom of your breast
Will be spat out like a pacifier
In time
On time, you'll glide into familiar arms
No farms could reach you there
You're no chicken, no better but
Your claws no longer scratch earth's flesh
Your hands have no need for dust
Peace, hawks, peace
All your empty handed armies have no hands
Softly stroking your mud won't do
It has taken its own shape
Of some concern to your mould
Speaking of which, moss grows soft
It has its own place but
Beds are for sleepers
You, friend, are a weeper
Time, patience, time
There is so much time you should not rush
Rather, be pushed by the hush
Come home to your family
A weary, winded traveler
Pull up a windmill
Grind up piecemeal
Some flesh cracks
and crystals don't relax
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
Breathe in right away,
Nothing seems to fill this place
I need this every time,
Take your lies get off my case
Someday I will find a love
That flows through me like this
This will fall away,
this will fall away
You’re getting closer to pushing me
Off of life’s little edge
Cause I’m a loser
And sooner or later
You know I’ll be dead
You’re getting closer,
You’re holding the rope,
I'm taking the fall
Cause I’m a loser, I’m a loser, yeah
This is getting old,
I can’t break these chains that I hold
My body’s growing cold,
There’s nothin left of this mind
Or my soul
Addiction needs a pacifier,
The buzz of this poison is taking me higher
This will fall away,
This will fall away
You’re getting closer, to pushing me
Off of life’s little edge
Cause I’m a loser and sooner or later
You know I’ll be dead
You’re getting closer,
You’re holding the rope and
I’m taking the fall
Cause I’m a loser
You’re getting closer, to pushing me
Off of life’s little edge
Cause I’m a loser and sooner or later
You know I’ll be dead
You’re getting closer,
You’re holding the rope
And I’m taking the fall
Cause I’m a loser
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 12:42 PM UTC
Go to sleep Child,
It's the midnight hour
You were sleeping soundly
but that slumber has soured
Here's a pacifier, a blanket,
a song hummed down low
One more kiss and
off to sleep you go
Go to sleep child,
It's two in the morn'
You were sleeping soundly
but now you howl like a horn
Here's a lullaby, sung by nightlight
and a pacifier in my hand
Once more before you succumb
to the Sandman's sand
Go to sleep child,
It's four, just before dawn
Am I supposed to assume
you're a hungry little fawn?
Here's a warm bottle, clean swaddle
and an elephant burp cloth
It's only a matter of time before you're
moving slower than a sloth
Go to sleep child,
It's no longer night
We both look exhausted
Oh what a sight!
Here's a blanket, a pacifier, a soiled swaddle;
Sandman's sand, a burp cloth, and a ***** bottle
I'm staying home today 'n I don't know about you
But I say lets take a nap and sleep till this afternoon
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC
throw me your Pacifier
drop me a Heart
a packet of Jokers
flutter, as Jacks
queens & kings Fall
laughing in Jest
wanton stares of Rapture
plea for my Muse
she keeps the Sluth
from this game, of Cards
don't leave me Loose
craving my Queen
a charmed Epochal
smitten twice, Bitten
you be the One
captured me First
classic queen of Hearts
painting roses Red
lost in your Wonderland
© Sia Jane
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC
Crystal, like my soul.
Crystal, like my flesh.
Hard edged, jagged, quick to draw blood,
That is my fetish.
I harbor the wounds of antiquity,
View Achilles with scorn.
Weak demi-god, foolish god-son.
Don’t play the game by the rules,
Challenge them.
Why allow such blood-travesty?
Take the arrow in your heel.
Take it and tell the gods,
“I deny your divinity!”
**** you!”
“I defy your divinity AND my future!”
Use the pain,
Make it crystal,
Hard edged, quick to cut.
Blood is a purifier—a pacifier,
Let it run and set your mind free.
Let it flow till you fall dead,
Now dry of blood, a husk,
In crystal.
Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 5:39 PM UTC
remember in my story
how you wept on the monument
your tears staining the feet of soldiers
row men
who killed amply and without judgment
your eyes do that now
rip throats out from beneath my fairy tales
your hands are deeper than they used to be
i think you’ve burnt a real levy this time
the shores agree and mock my tone
creeping
like your hair brushed along my back
im soothed by the patience
of eyes
tying me to a fever
that begins below the skin
have me for dinner
and don’t look at me once
just mouth words
like pacifier
and forget-me-not
wishes like be the one
please i beg
for scraps from the table
bits of meats
ripped with your teeth
glistening with your spit
the devouring of my mind
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 10:11 PM UTC
i leaned my head on your shoulder while you told me
about "those lazy wetbacks" again, the ones you ran into
at the bank (with your car) and i laughed because
i didn't know how not to.
i grew up a painted-white fence. wood naturally brown
i drowned myself in bleach so my words would be pure,
burnt hair my fault. black eyes my bad
for being born, i am sorry
we are taller now but never any smarter: sure,
we act empowered but really there's a pacifier there who
just wanted a face like us to say
"you're beautiful, not burnt"
i pretend it's a lesson learnt
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 5:50 PM UTC
He stands, backs away, gazes,
Maybe...
Choosing from the stacked shelves of colour, sweet and sour, shining over, in, out, around. Tempting a step forward like orphans waiting at the ready to be sold to the mines.
Maybe...
Two arms but a thousand choices. A hundred? A thousand to choose.
His friends have moved on from his isle, to toys and foods, baking stalls of fish and chunder.
Buzzing fluro hyper-emotive lights, his shoulders naked and bare for the world. Not yet lashed and ***** by tendrils of the ****** society. Eels in soup, you know, squirting with thirty boys in ************ to the beat. A dub proposed, seconded, played forward and blasted through fender-box for the dextromethorphan eye to behold.
Bass, Blues and Angus and Julia ring out through the cavernous space in our floating head. A gas burner of sweet Mary Jane keeps the balloon floating high above. Two ***** hang from its base while the **** has long since fallen to the peoples below, blotting out the sun. Shocking pictures of girls, boys and gear sticks. Two babes one pacifier, the new viral hit. 3, 2, 1 your 15 minutes are up and you see no more out of those big naive eyes of yours.
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 3:52 AM UTC
Anything or Anyone now is
his way of coping.
Entertaining, and using them. Hoping
that they fill the void.
But we both know
there won't be another.
So why bother?
Like that pacifier for the baby,
they'll silence the sadness.
For the time being.
But that can only last so long,
soon you'll come to your senses.
It'll all come crashing down and
you'll have to deal with those feelings.
So profound, and distinct.
This isn't what you hoped it'd be.
Letting them occupy your space,
all while trying to get rid of me.
Play time is over, time to face the truth.
You allowed artificial love to pacify you.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC
Someday,
when the weeds are
growing all around me,
I will bury you in dirt
and then choose the words
that will act
as a cold-reading pacifier
for the crowds
who thought they knew you.
Maybe
you thought I would
be the first to go;
a near-certain bet
for the first to our death,
only for me to find youth
in my old age,
hitting form at the after-party,
just as everyone else
is looking for sleep.
Sweetheart,
I learned to stretch out
the hours of retirement
in a posture that can be sustained;
beyond mood shifts
and weather patterns,
to a place in which
I welcome the rain.
The allotment is flourishing,
my unsheathed Vishuddha.
Still,
**** my hippie fantasies
if I cannot hear your voice.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC