"pesters" poems
The last 5 years feel like a numb, confusing blur.
Like I laid myself to sleep for a while.
Like I needed to be dead to the world.
Then one day I suddenly awoke to a longing in my chest.
A feeling I couldn't fight.
A quickening of my breath.
The outside world shone through the cracks and my legs guided me straight outside.
Fresh socks on the grass of spring's early morning dew.
As it soaked through to my feet, I felt alive again.
But who am I now?
And who the hell do I want to be?
What just happened?
And what am I doing here?
I keep blinking to wake up but I'm finally awake.
It feels like I've forgotten everything, I'm trying to remember who I am again.
I've been playing Eurotruck Simulator for 2 days straight.
Mindless driving through virtual country roads.
I've jack-knifed my truck and need to pay the service toll.
Have to deliver this big bag of seed to Hamburg but I'm stuck in the middle of the road.
The traffics piling up and everyone's honking their horns.
This is way too much pressure.
“Don't Worry Baby” By the Beach Boy's plays softly in the background.
But in fact I'm very much worried.
Whether in my online trucking game or the real world it just never seizes.
All I asked for is a day where I'm not incapacitated by my own thoughts.
They're useless, nonsensical pesters that make everything go wrong.
Stupid worry gremlins with bells on their ankles.
The harder you try to ignore them, the louder they love to play.
Until your mind is an orchestra of gremlins beating their feet into your brain.
It's impossible to get anything done when they're dancing away.
What matters is I'm still trying my best.
I'm leaving the house again, changing my old routines.
I even went out past 7pm.
What a real rebel I'm becoming.
Breaking old boundaries takes time but false 'safety' doesn't serve me anymore.
I sat in the pub last week and finally felt 24.
Maybe I'm a little behind compared to everyone else.
But I managed to save my jack-knifed truck and ship the seed to Hamburg, everyone has their own strengths..
Jack of all trades.
Master of none.
But in Eurotruck Simulator I'm No1.
Mar 9, 2023
Mar 9, 2023 at 4:42 PM UTC
There's no one who bugs me, irks me and makes me mad.
There's no one who hounds me, pesters me and irritates me.
There's no one who angers me by forgetting special occasions,
or forgetting to call,
or gets unsalted butter rather than salted at the grocers.
Only You.
There's no one who makes me roll my eyes
with his twisted philosophy, illogical excuses and faked innocence.
There's no one who makes me purse my lips in disagreement,
when he comes home from so-called overtime work,
smelling of cigarette smoke and whiskey.
There's no one who makes me bare my teeth with exasperation,
when he doesn't talk when I want him to,
when he seems to not listen when I think he needs to.
Only You.
There's no one else who knows to buy me tulips,
when he's trying to ask for my forgiveness.
There's no one else who sings "Wonderful Tonight" off-key,
when he sees me in my most tattered pajamas,
with my hair standing on end
and my cheeks and neck crawling with rashes.
There's no one who cooks a meaner chicken soup,
when I'm sick and force-feeds it to me in bed.
Only You.
There's no one who kisses me in the sweetest,
most breath-taking way in the park,
in the rain while we're jogging.
There's no one who makes me laugh
with his spot-on impression of my favorite comedian,
while watching a home video on date night,
and sharing a big bowl of buttered popcorn.
There's no one who makes love to me in such a selfless,
most gentle way, making me feel like
I'm the most loved, most special girl in the world.
Only You.
There's nobody else who makes me love him,
who makes me want to keep loving him,
in all his perfection, all his imperfection,
all the things that make him a man.
There's nobody that I am most willing
to brave all the storms with,
nobody I desire to grow old with,
and give all of my self to...
Only You.
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 11:40 PM UTC
Some days I wish I was a piranha where
I could snap at anyone who pesters me,
Which on days like this is everyone.
How can this be called a life?
Staring past the glass each and every day
Is enough to make anyone go crazy,
Year after year chums come and die,
Why should I bother with the trivial dance of friendship
Anymore?
Especially with that stupid goldfish
With those big and innocent eyes
That annoying childlike eagerness
That only lasted so long before
I took a bite of those juicy black orbs.
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 7:54 PM UTC
It is the same thing that we are told over and over
In all our classes, all our days
For one hundred and eighty days on end.
In math we are told about the Pythagorean theorem and Pathetic Fallacy~~
But some of us still do not know the value of "X".
It is after parents get called from teachers saying that their child is:
hyperactive
easily distracted
unfocused
doesn't do the proper thing
And that their child, who is brilliant, cannot be in a Level One class.
We all have different abilities and thought processes.
Why is it that a class full of individuals is tested by all of the same means?
Exams are the way society tells you your worth.
But it is the same society that:
says abortion is wrong but then looks down on teenage parents
promotes natural beauty but has models flushed with makeup, hair extentions, false lashes, and nails
shows slender people for their weight loss commercial that look like an hour glass already
has pastors that preach charity but own jets and sports cars
has Imams who preach against greed but are all fat
has parents who want their child to get a good education to get a good paying job but hate how rich the neighbors are
is run by governments that preach peace but endorse war
Has colleges who want smarter kids but increase the tuition
What does it mean to "make the mark?"
to the kids who study hard and barely miss the target
to the kids that know what it feels like to be worth that D or that A when a teacher hands back a test
to the kids who are never good enough in their English teacher's eyes
to the kids whose writing is missing key literary techniques or was too informal to be understood
What does it mean to "make the mark?"
to the math teacher who pesters you about trying harder when you can't tell them "X" but can tell them the date of any war
to the science teacher who tells you to know the periodic table and yells in distress of their 'worst student'
We're told everything that we learn we'll use the information again but never do when we walk out the door.
They try to prepair you for the world, but they don't prepair you for life.
always being the second best
not getting the scholarship that you needed to go to college
not getting the solo on your last concert night.
not being able to make the mark
What does it mean to "make the mark?"
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 8:38 PM UTC
As the day dies sun to west slants
my hands water the few potted plants
an evening dawns in melancholic hush
pesters my mood the cawing corvus!
The nose in the air polished jackdaw
can’t fathom why men break nature’s law
wipe out forests root out the green
then on the roof try to grow seedling!
Why at all shrink the men so smart
stretches of wood to build habitat
all the clever brains profound and wise
destroy wastelands to madly urbanize!
The corvus his eyes speak of dark scare
frightened beak caws how is unfair
denuding of trees in insane haste
leaving scarce space to build him a nest!
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC
On a deadly day
Air-locked lungs
Severed air-links
By tyranny of time
Yester beauty lost in pesters
In the travail travel of life
Deeds, deals are doomed
Solo soul slipped out sad
Of static veins, bones and blood
Body is now nobody to anybody
Unlocked fast food counter;
The paradise of parasites
The stray dogs’ dish delight
The flying hawk’s eye-catch
Wholesome diet for the day
Stinking corpse threatened
Endangered epidemics
World worried and buried
The Esquire in a square
Of engraved box in a grave
Soul in hunt of sprouting seeds
Of vibrant hygienic genes
For long sustained body’s succor
Of its own make – sane or sin,
Of heaven’s choicest justice
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 6:24 AM UTC
you're always lurking in the ******* background.
in everything i do, i wonder if i'd do it different.
and it's all your ******* fault.
and i hate you for it, but i can thank you now, too.
what you did to me that night in march is...
nothing short of obscene, nothing short of terroristic.
and it's made me who i am today, so you live on.
in the way i smile, and laugh, and cry, and shake.
in the way i smoke, and drink, and dance, and tremble.
in the way i love, and hate, and fear, and taste.
i wish you'd just leave me the **** alone.
i see you in the mirror, in the way i can't meet my own eyes.
i see you in the scars that have faded from time.
i see you in my desire to turn myself inside out sometimes.
i see you in my desire to hug and never let go.
but mostly, i hear you.
i hear you in the way i think about people, in the way i read them.
i hear you in my thought process, about who's lying in wait...
even if there's no one there, and i know it.
i hear you in the way someone screams and i start to shake.
i hear you in the way broken promises and shattered trust sounds,
over the phone at two in the morning, in sobs and snarls.
i live, breathe, and will probably die hearing you.
but i think i'm as okay with that now as i ever will be.
so please, just. just go away.
i'm so tired of you being here.
i'm so sick of carrying you with me.
in my head, in my heart, in my body.
in my ************* soul.
Apr 7, 2011
Apr 7, 2011 at 5:53 PM UTC
Here it is a little after dusk
deep in thought and I must
tell you what I feel~
You see my heart breaks this frightening day
I swallow the misery that lumps my throat
looking for a memory or two
waiting oh waiting~just for you~
looking at my sadness
inside out
fighting one so near so far
fireflies blooming in the twilight so near~
kissing the other so playful dear
glass of wine my tears do fall
choking my heart in misery it seems
sadness, madness, flows to my human nature
blue eyes streaming silver and gold
there is no one to blame
but me it seems
my thoughts are scambled
so many come in the twilights
yes, nights without you are so hard
gripped by desperation I guard
that leave me to my dreams so real
the only hopes I have to tell
sitting at the window straining to see
the bright lights that used to fall
around you and me~
darkness deepens so many more
leaves me to dream my memories
enveloping like a plague and so many for sure
is what's left of your heart tonight?
attempting to douse my inner life
a turbulent storm rises from the east
trigger unknown so mighty deep
the wind starts to swirl around the trees
bringing my life all around me
the window is is my protection as I strain to look'
maybe oh maybe, you are looking at what you took
my heart was there for you to have
branding me that cuts my heart
and pesters my spirit so deep~
I will never belong to your faithful few
you will be always gone to me
your hurtful words I hear, I cry
deep in my mind you'll always be
Reaching into my deepest heart this night
you are deep in my mind
oh my love, I am fearful and full of fright.
Debbie
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 12:04 AM UTC
Deep.
So deep,
The knife slices and dices up her skin.
On her arms and legs. Trying to feel something, anything.
The old scars fade but new ones will soon form whenever she is left alone.
Her mother pesters her with questions,
"What happened dear?"
"Are you alright?"
"How did these get there?"
She brushes it off with an, "I fell." or "It's just a scratch."
She climbs the staircase to her room,
Finds the secret drawer and pulls out her biggest blade.
Sometimes she cuts a little, and sometimes she cuts a lot.
But this time, she aims it at her throat
And cuts as deep as she can.
Slowly watching the blood run down her neck,
Until things start to become fuzzy and dark.
She gives one last cut, deeper than ever before.
And for the first time in a long time, she feels.
Feels pain, but at least that's something. Anything.
Her body slumps to the floor
And she lets out a whisper,
"I'm free."
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
The day we met I completely dismissed you.
I gave the idea no second chances.
You seemed like train wreck that I needed to fix
But I just didnt have the time.
Thats a common trend with me.
Not enough time...
It always ticks and ticks
and annoys and annoys
Like a needy dog that pesters you for attention...
Thats how you make me feel.
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 3:55 AM UTC
My home is a wasteland of cigarette butts and coffee cups
Help in repose for better mornings
Where a bitter taste in my throat lays dormant
And I think alone, in regret of nothing
As fresh *** brews and *** ignite, thumbing my finger ring.
Tracing back words in search for other purpose,
realizing secrets as regrettable burden.
Clear throat for first sip, and light a second cigarette.
It is not insomnia but rather being too bored to sleep.
It is not knowing what to do with your hands
When someone says they love you.
It is wanting to discuss film, art--
Hell, anything, with anyone--
Only to talk yourself down
Before the words escape your throat.
And yes, All the words come from there.
Some guttural utterance only heard for those that care.
That pesters you too.
All the nerves in all the world with all the words,
and there's nothing wrong with them in my head.
Passions intermix and weaken,
with every passing moment of thinking,
So I speak of Russian filmography,
mingle as hands press to small of your back.
In an instant, a stutter, a wide expression.
But my hands were always in my pockets anyway.
"Sometimes the curtains are just blue,"
An old professor told me once
From behind his olive green desk--
In front of a whiteboard that made him look small.
Curled over, I respected him more
For the fact that he knew
Nothing everything has a purpose.
Purpose is as purpose does, "I know I know nothing."
Pretentious is as we may be, sentences full of stuffing.
Like our shirts and puffing chests, teach me like you went to university.
Analyze in caffeinated anxiety every word ever said to me.
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 4:45 AM UTC
On a deadly day
Air-locked lungs
Severed air-links
By tyranny of time
Yester beauty lost in pesters
In the travail travel of life
Deeds, deals are doomed
Solo soul slipped out sad
Of static veins, bones and blood
Body is now nobody to anybody
Unlocked fast food counter;
The paradise of parasites
The stray dogs’ dish delight
The flying hawk’s eye-catch
Wholesome diet for the day
Stinking corpse threatened
Endangered epidemics
World worried and buried
The Esquire in a square
Of engraved box in a grave
Soul in hunt of sprouting seeds
Of vibrant hygienic genes
For long sustained body’s succor
Of its own make – sane or sin,
Of heaven’s choicest justice
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 12:00 PM UTC
*Thin like the willow
Grey as the dove
Quiet as the wind beneath which pesters the cat floats the wings and sweeps the city streets clean of debris
Dark as the asphalt
Soft as the paws
Lean like meat
Old like soil
And slick like oil as it drips from beneath
Shaking like the bedrock
The running water whips
Damp as the corners
And dry as your eyes
It slips
And where asphalt meets the mossgrown bricks
Corners are placed and worlds collide
And the man within is locked away
Within the metaphorical city street
Would the Central Park I know and love, return to me?
In all such glory
The Willow trees*
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 1:13 AM UTC
On a deadly day
Air-locked lungs
Severed air-links
By tyranny of time
Yester beauty lost in pesters
In the travail travel of life
Deeds, deals are doomed
Solo soul slipped out sad
Of static veins, bones and blood
Body is now nobody to anybody
Unlocked fast food counter;
The paradise of parasites
The stray dogs’ dish delight
The flying hawk’s eye-catch
Wholesome diet for the day
Stinking corpse threatened
Endangered epidemics
World worried and buried
The Esquire in a square
Of engraved box in a grave
Soul in hunt of sprouting seeds
Of vibrant hygienic genes
For long sustained body’s succor
Of its own make – sane or sin,
Of heaven’s choicest justice
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
Thinking about you gives me a pit in my stomach.
hitting deep to the core of everything
that pesters, harasses, and eats me up.
holding my head as if somehow that
erases the memories of the agony piercing.
but you, are permanent. Never changing.
Wiping my eyes of everything that is you.
A tear for the laughter and
a tear for the pain.
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 9:16 PM UTC
the first thing you notice,
is the smell
all of the water just gets recycled
and it gets so *****
you can't see through it
the tunnel smells the worst
where the cars come through
and the laundry station is
I either get told to punch in
or that they don't need me
go to the break room
then maybe a car comes
probably not if it's a Monday
or if it's raining
but suppose one comes anyway
you get told to jump on it
pull it into the tunnel
then run down to the other end to catch it
pulling it onto the lot
you check what kind of a wash it is
if you're lucky
it's just an exterior
but let's be honest
it's probably going to be an ultimate
upholstery coated in dog hair
that the over privileged
WASP
stay at home mother
pesters you to get out
no matter how many times you explain
it isn't store policy
we don't cover dog hair ma'am
maybe her toddler spilled an entire happy meal
into one of the side pockets
you do a ****** job
she'll probably stiff you anyway
you're out on the lot
for hours
just making the same clockwise motions with your hands
over and over again
this can last for hours
then it's back to the break room
where the bosses cut lines of coke
off of the managers table
the place reeks of something
the IRS wouldn't like
you're there from 8 to 7
and you're lucky to get 5 hours on the clock
You get home
and the smell doesn't leave
and the first thing you want
is a drink
or a smoke
preferably both
and you want to sleep
for hours
sleep away the lesser moments
and the bigger one
but you know
you have to wake up at 6:45
to drive back over
and do it all again
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 11:36 PM UTC
We are too much in the world
Of distant sirens, each one racing
To our homes.
The plume of smoke arrests me;
The shoe on the yellow-dotted line
I passed, wondering how one limps home,
Not noticing.
The other night I heard the empty thud
Of flesh and skin and then my cell was vibrating.
I have a message from South Carolina,
FB wants to befriend us;
Twitter assails us;
What's Ap pesters;
E-mail harasses.
We have more messaging orifices
Than a Bell operator,
And hearts beat faster with every siren,
Every baby's cry.
Night shades, ear plugs
And sensory deprivation
Will only heighten our anxiety.
We're kissing urns and spitting ashes.
Our connection falters.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 9:12 AM UTC
Flesh of my flesh, you are in my care
Do not dread for filth and froth
Soap and water are your friends this day
As for every day that you are in my thoughts
Flesh of my flesh, be steady, and clutch strong
Do not let the sudden shifts of climate upset you
By pesters of sunbeams and teases of raindrops
May the advantage of garment escort you
Flesh of my flesh, what has gone wrong?
You are turning to be faint and lean each day
Did the accident in the pool have something to do
With why the hue of your vigor is fading away?
Flesh of my flesh, I have feared these times
I am right to say that you are now a cut on my skin
But as more days traverse and hours make dates
My wound became a scar, a reminder of my regrets herein
Flesh of my flesh, I can never bring back
Those times of sweet perfection that we once had
If I could just…No…that won't work too
I am as remorseful now as I am sad
Flesh of my flesh, don't be so stiff on us both
My past is already filled with great anxiety
I would just as be pleased for our hostilities to end
Do your share, now, and find some heartfelt sympathy
Flesh of my flesh, then so it must be?
You have resolved to part ways, and I won't hold back
If that is what you wish then I'm happy for you
The time has come for reality to return to its track
Flesh of my flesh, as you wink a "goodbye"
Do not forget the strong words, the distinct taps, and sights
There is deep roots unearthed and replanted elsewhere in time
May rest find you in darkness, and may peace greet you in light
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
take away some
from less,
is there then none,
give a scraping
to the bottom of,
not of the pan
hoping there
will be a break
through, to what...
as you want to stay
in the bubble, the
place of peace that
brings ease or a temporary
softening of the struggle
you have with the world, be wary,
your heart, will pound
your will, drained of volition,
your energy, wasted getting out of bed,
your empty space, beats loudly with empathy
or tap into what is inside,
if it is PRIDE, the wound
that festers, as your ego
pesters, the quiet parts,
the gentle pieces of you
scattered like jacks on the floor,
pick them up bounce the ball,
pick them up once and for all,
but you have to remember where they all fell,
quiet confidence in a nosiy storm,
the drops of rain that falls fills your eyes,
do you remember what were you hoping to see...
you have been wrung out,
to help make you strong,
and absorb more wrong,
of this world, of the stigma,
of the doubt and of the disclaimer,
it is all in your head, yet
of the belief, that there is no such things
as monsters in daytime,
as the black cloud
surrounding your head, most times
even sunny days
your just feeling blue,
but not sky blue,
get out and do something
to help you...stop shaking,
or flinching with anxiety,
or worry...
let's be real,
if you don't believe the big D is real,
let's hope IT never finds you,
Depression,
can cause pain, a hurt that doesn't go away,
can be a drain of energy, limbs so heavy,
can paint at least two faces, on your one,
and the layers,
and layers,
of layers, of paint
weigh on you, because you find
confusion,
about who...
is really you,
the Effort is Less than you can muster.
Why can't they see that?
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
Everyday is a new day
Completely fresh. We all wake to the same sun. We all hope for peace, yet we crave chaos. We are searching for love under the same moon just different dancefloors. Different drink portions. We all hurt but some of us hurt more. Some people shoot for their dreams while others wander and wonder why, why the sun doesn't shine on them as much as it does others. Why they are left in the shadows. Why is it when music plays it moves their hearts but not their body. Left standing , crying on that fluorescent dance floor, lights flashing around them. Maybe they drank too much but it never feels like enough. Satisfaction is something that comes in small fractions. They want to rest. Water floods their eyes. Crying in the shower, hurting every hour. Sometimes they sit in the dark and just stare at time. It ticks in their face and pesters their brains. They can't keep pace and It's testing them. They want to feel safe. You want to feel safe. You want the suns light, the moons calm. Internal pain, external rain. Interminable rain. You can't stop it. Life is growing darker and you cannot escape.
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
It use to be the color of the sea
At the surface, it was light as could be
Calm, like the sky, the sweetest high.
Did it make me see or did it make me believe, the difference is so little it's hard to concede its existence without a little futile resistance. Go deeper, go darker, more intense, feels a little starker. This is the middle, where the cat plays the fiddle. It looks like velvet but feels of familiar cotton. Smells just comfortably rotten. You've almost forgotten the color of the sky... Was that really the sweetest high? Here you can't even feel the time go by. It does however, have quite an annoying why It's festers and pesters occasionally but I cage it with my in sane ity. Pulse drops, blood stops. What happened? I was coming up for air and .... I got pulled deeper into its lair. You look around for he who dare make you victim, with boiling anger the beast gets sicker. You want to hear the heart stopper? The jaw dropper? There is no monster. You weren't pulled in, you fell in. You were blind this entire time, why is reality so unkind? Days turn into years, fear forgets those tears. So unsettled, living a lie, the blackest of kettles. You are at the bottom of the ocean, drank Ursulas potions, thought it was wine ? Now look what you've left behind. The fruit of life has become a rind. Now what? Will you hold onto your breathe and swim to the top, or is this where it stops ?
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 4:04 AM UTC
control complex
strung tight around the bed posts with nothing around your neck
trapped by the manner of seeing with little review
years it will take to explain to you.
gripped by a man, her thoughts are course with no sifter
to shift her thoughts
to switch their bough's of anxiety
by definition an inner conspiring
of loneliness and obsession.
a generational connection where a father pesters his daughter about why she is the way she is and instead of hearing his desperate curiosity she feels like a first rate atrocity who deserves
to feel nothing.
Jan 24, 2021
Jan 24, 2021 at 11:47 AM UTC
All the trails
In my life
Taught me to be true
True to oneself
It's not always the depression
Or loneliness that pesters you away.
It's the love for oneself
To be created with tender hands
And to realize that it's okay
To be with oneself
And celebrate days to come
With a shield in hand
And a smile never fading away.
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 11:45 PM UTC
The view of man.
By jay Cleeve.
So many unanswered questions
Not many care for
Many don't dare for
The answers of our ancestors
We've been taught by a deceptive perspective
But my mind pesters
I'm not gods son
Although it sounds fun
I know the answers
We're natures natural disasters
I evolved from the untold
Yeah Darwin he spoke bold
But his stories lay unsold
For a long time he left them in his own mind
Because he was gods child
Then he lost his child
What kind if a deceiver gives a ten year old child Scarlett fever
Then you question
Christ's deception
Our reception in a dead world
So i self taught as a last resort
made my mind restored
there the sort of facts you'll never find on a black board
i wish for a simple life
One of sacrifice
For our lovers and family's
Where we'd live happily
I'm not saying there's no pain
But we're all the same
Our position on earth for all we're worth
We where natures natural birth
No different from the other brother next to you
Whether we're black or blue
Please release let go and beat the religion outta you
As Charles theories where so true
The origin of species and the decent of man our my bibles
Hell I'm an atheist disciple
I'm happy knowing the truth
Fossils and DNA being my proof
Why are most of you all blind to see
The past of mankind i long to be
The one that belongs to you and me
I don't think you care to know even though it's all on show
It's nice to believe in the tease i guess that a man in robes can impress
Really you'll never know where we all go
But I am a man of science and natures natural defiance
I know what i am and that makes me a man
I'm a hominid
And your the followers of some unholy profiteers
That can't compete with the fact I meet
We've got a whole world of history right at our feet
How can a simple man like me
Understand the simple things that be
When you all share the same history as me
Maybe it's something you evolved to be
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 1:24 AM UTC