"pressures" poems
This smile that makes your day...
This undaunted smile that seem to say.
Show me yours too so we both could play,
On a plane where everything is fine...
Everything's okay...
This smile that reaches out to you...
With nothing but invisible arms.
Caresses your eyes and draws you in.
Entices you with the sweetest charms.
Whispers you tales of a brightly lit future;
Where we're trapped in dance with each other...
Supporting...
Leading...
Lifting and,
Seducing one another...
Let the music ring clear,.
Over the thumping of our heartbeats...
Aggressively segmenting, framing the dance into seconds that would elapse.
Like two duelists entranced into committing tender jousts and retreats.
But know that...
This smile screams only lies.
For it is but a routine mask.
So well worn and adequately rehearsed...
You'd never see the need to ask.
Instead you'd just allow yourself be taken,
To a place where the tide gently beats...
Upon the shore our two ailing hearts.
A place where earth and sky would meet.
When in fact,
It hides the turmoil and agitation.
Guarding the storm that brews incessantly.
Continuously threatening
To breach this shared sanctity with me.
A haven would've then be erected.
That very instant we allowed...
This dance of smiles
From time of first contact to the time we bowed.
This smile... Only took a second
To paint a peaceful picture upon my face.
Free from the pressures building behind my pursed lips.
Just take this smile so that in that second,
We could get lost in the promise of a heavenly place...
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 12:36 PM UTC
I'm struggling with what it means to be a woman.
Does it mean that I am always in competition to be the top of my species?
Does it mean that I need to be perfect without a single curve out of line in order to find love?
Does it mean that I am only defined when owned by a man?
Does it mean that I can only find purpose in childbirth?
Does it mean that I will forever live in the shadow of men?
Does it mean that I am an object invented solely for a man's pleasure?
Does it mean that I'm forced to confine to gender roles and live in someone else's story?
Does it mean that I'm supposed to accept it when I'm harassed from across the street?
Does it mean that I'm supposed to lie there silent when he puts his hands up my skirt?
Does it mean that I am only worth 77 cents to a man’s dollar?
Does it mean that I am defined by my looks rather than my intelligence?
Does it mean that I will never be capable of holding a major position of power due to my mood swings?
Does it mean that I am defined by how many men I have had *** with?
Or does it mean something else entirely.
It's difficult learning to love being a woman.
Obvious and damaging disadvantages are visible to observers.
We are regarded as second best, property of our man.
We are erased from history, our pain is minimized and forgotten.
We are oppressed and have to fight for our rights.
We are afraid to walk the streets at night, afraid for our lives.
We are harassed without care and without penalty.
We are ***** and murdered for refusing proposals.
We are expected to live on the sidelines as a housewife whose only priority should be her children.
We are expected to keep quiet in situations of domestic abuse.
We are expected to be perfect, and pretty, fresh for a man’s picking.
We can’t even advocate for our own equality without being demonized.
There are times where I wish I wasn’t a woman.
Being a woman comes with innumerable expectations, pressures, and responsibilities.
My existence is not defined by a man, or by the patriarchal expectations that have been placed on me.
I am breaking free of my confinements and I’m not afraid to admit that,
I'm struggling with what it means to be a woman. And that's okay.
//sarahmann
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 3:10 AM UTC
On whether technology has influenced the seeming rise in mental health issues: The concept of technology as separate than Nature is impossible to pin down, but to say that a lifetime of social pressures, advertising, television, and processed and genetically altered foodstuffs would not affect what the brain is used to, and what is was designed to do, is a non sequitur. Certainly an entirely separate set of influences also had negative consequences in the brains' of pre-man, but these were not of his own making, as he still lived in an organic environment, and therefore wasn't a part of the "feedback loop" we have going on with humans becoming the products of a man-made environment (one of the only things that sets us apart from most the animal kingdom). Either way, whatever you're doing you're getting better at it, so with the increase in time spent on the web and watching TV we are increasingly better at watching other people - being passive, non-accountable, constantly comparative and self-obsessed, impotent in light of the mass of information constantly flooding towards you - which the brain was not originally intended for. This seems obvious. So the fact that some people have things like crippling anxiety and OCD, or develop anti-social disorders and the like, seems like a logical result produced by a system (the brain) presented with new and inorganic conditions. On top of that, being a non-douche is naturally and evolutionarily based because it increases the likelihood that others will want to chilll'n'stuff and help you when you need it, but when transposed onto a crowded, fast-paced modernity it twists into something like flattery and competition to appear the most altruistic.
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 11:45 AM UTC
Those that are complacently designed
By the simpering vanities
of a domesticated world
rarely find the peace of mind
of which we all strive
because their materialistic
beliefs constrain them
in pools of normality
Drowning them in the pressures of society
and hanging them out to dry
in downloaded photos
that never fade
our lives are all dictated
by the subconscious influence
of one another
thus our souls
are irrefutably intertwined
locked together in endless struggle
mind against mind.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 12:08 PM UTC
Metallic-, ionic-, covalent bonds.
Persisting still proving, able to break.
The forces assured, the pressures endured,
the attraction unequal, results left uncured.
Surely there exits an unbreakable bond,
created by a wand from a paranormal pond.
A connection not so rare, sharing DNA in our hair.
A bond assuring trust, selflessness and care.
Not even death, can break a bond that strong
and this may seem unfair, science points to wrong
but this is no illusion, my doubts are less than low
I do not have to prove, what I already know.
Its far beyond a feeling, description left unknown.
This bond is right beside me, never am I alone.
I do not need an idol, I do not need a god.
Impossible to forge a key, it's not that type of lock.
My brother is my hero, my brother is my rock.
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC
Disappear
Into the dark
No more pressures, no more worries
Free of expectations
Judgement is gone
I can't disappear
No matter where I go
Something's following me
With sinister red-yellow eyes
Snickering at the sight of the tight iron handcuffs.
Not allowed to disappear
Those handcuffs hold me still
I can't be liberated
Because no one can save me
From the evil force that
Is
Me.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC
Christmas can be a time
when families get together:
Young children scream, wine glasses gleam,
both ready for M&S dinner.
TV's in the corner
rerunning Home Alone,
Heart radio's in the kitchen,
Chris Rea's driving home,
again.
Toddlers find the wrapping
more engaging than the Duplo
Teen couples find the company
less of interest than their own.
The dog's confused and excited
with so many different sources
of scratches and pats, he can't relax,
his whining is remorseless.
Christmas can be a time
when families are missed,
the parcel made last post
winging off to little sis.
Zoom will come in handy
to laugh across the miles,
the screen will mask the tears
and focus on the smiles.
Gran will talk of Christmas past
when everyone was home
'Cept in Gulf War 1 when Uncle John
went away, ....
Christmas can be a time
when budgets get stretched tight,
cash pressures get to breaking point
and prompt senseless fights.
Some focus on opportunity
to spend some gilt-free money,
the only prayers are for extra hours
and a faster tesco trolley.
For others it's simply ' Yuletide'
an excessive celebration,
a winter feast, all you can eat,
give in to all temptation.
Most focus on the family,
even more on the gifts;
there's little time for Jesus
assigned amongst the myths.
Some do remember Jesus
from half forgotten carols,
they know there's something more
than donkeys and angel heralds.
For there He is in the middle,
noticed once in a while;
it's His birthday, but all He's getting
is a half-hearted song and a smile.
He's no longer a babe in a manger,
He's now a resurrected King,
waiting for those who would worship
to stand and welcome Him in.
Whatever your experience of Christmas
you can come just as you are,
His love is unconditional
He'll accept you warts and all.
So come on!
It’s a season to celebrate!
To dance, to sing and to shout!
Your Saviour invites you to join Him,
so when you sing this Christmas, make it count.
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 5:43 PM UTC
Isolation and quietness are my two best friends
They never leave me
They don’t betray me
And they do not care
Isolation helps me think and comprehend reality
Isolation does not sleep and never decides to leave me
Isolation eliminates my pressures and anxieties
Isolation helps me relax and breathe
With isolation who needs real friends?
Quietness comes and goes but never decides to leave me
Quietness helps me sleep at night and stays with me till the morning
Quietness lets me focus and takes away my fears
Quietness is always trustworthy and is right around the corner
With quietness who needs real friends?
Isolation and quietness are always there for me
They never leave me
They don’t betray me
And they do not care
My two best friends never change and are always there for me
With isolation and quietness who needs real friends?
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 9:16 AM UTC
There is an inherent discrepancy
'twixt the World in One's Mind
and the World that simply Is.
That is, however,
no intrinsically bad thing.
For, I find, that the world Within
needs the world Without,
though they inderdepend
and thus are not mutually exclusive.
There needs to be a discrepancy
for the pressures, as it were,
to have any room or excuse
to neutralize:
to move towards equilibrium;
however,
it is not linear,
nor is it parabolic:
this, I believe,
is where Calculus
becomes a valid allegory
for Life,
itself.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
I have trust issues.
not because I mistook a raisin for a chocolate chip,
but I mistook you as a person who wouldn't hurt me.
Who wouldn't let me be tortured under the world's pressures
You knew I was treasure but locked me away in your cheap jewelry box
So, when I was freed of a year's slavery,
I built my wall
Much taller and stronger than before,
just to hope it'd scare away monsters like you from my door.
Until one learned how to climb.
In time, I let his angel face distract me from his devil's soul
But the guards of my heart blocked him out before I paid another toll.
My wall was built and rebuilt a million times
I installed the blinds and laid alone.
Until a price charming climbed along
or does he belong to those monsters?
My heart says no
but my trust issues say yes
what if he can actually break the spell placed on me?
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC
I admit the Pressures you Three must pass
Your own Barometres took quite a toll
From Stubborn Demands your ****** Peers had
Compel you to Shrink and keep on a Roll
But there are VALUES; Those Trusted Elders
In Humble Present their Words will sure Guide
All you need is some Time for yourselves, Brothers
Such that its Petals will unwrap for your Sight
Kind and apt Admiral! May your Shoes fill
Set their Braces to walk they know can Trust
So even if Hooties make Milk-Thoughts spill
A Shielding Light to soap their Dunged Shells, must.
This is just an Advice. Again from a Friend
Whose busy Torrents tries to Help does rend.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC
Life can bring great challenges,
disappointment and despair.
At times we want to just give up,
from pressures hard to bear.
Life on earth can be beautiful.
We must never give up hope.
Tie a knot, and hang on for dear life,
when you’re at the end of your rope.
The rope represents our earth life,
whether happy, sad, or fraught.
Our Savior’s great atoning love,
represents the saving knot.
If we will but have faith in Him
when our rope is at it’s end,
He’ll be the knot that stops our fall,
and helps our lives to mend..
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 9:58 AM UTC
All of the Gnomes from around the globe
Just sneezed their very last sneeze
They've had enough of this allergy stuff
And from the garden they're taking their leave
They packed up their bags, donned their bonnet's and caps
Left in the cover of night
Said goodbye to the trees along with the birds and the bees
And headed out for the big city life
No one had a clue from which wind the Gnomes blew
It was Wa-La they were suddenly there
From Bankers to Lawyers to Tele-marketer callers
They infiltrated every career
Soon they were drinking like fountains as the bills started mounting
With the pressures of the ride to the top
Pills became an everyday need to stay awake and fall asleep
Not sure when this madness will stop
On top of it all they started to cough from the smog
And wondered which one was the worst
The garden allergies or this black lung disease
Either way the Gnomes felt mankind's curse
So they turned in their suits and their ill gotten loot
And took a trip back to the suberbs
Now in the garden they smile cause they know all the while
Yes...it could be a lot worse
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 9:15 PM UTC
I need to cleanse it, free myself
Of this burden tainted upon
My being. Cinders are drenched on
Flesh
Spirit
Expunge
That which writhes is not burnt away,
So I must eradicate its stench
It violates upon my being
I unburden the pressures so released,
Pyroclastic flows breath exfoliation on my
Soul,
Pealed,
Freed
Of that stench scorched into oblivion
I relish in the torment of those below
Freshly parched earth as lungs burn breath,
"Fallen misery descends in singed flesh"
I release the Feathers weighted down
Haemorrhaging as crimson flows to the
Stems, expanding into the beauty
Of death, I am
Released,
Liberated,
Redeemed
Upon the fallen as I step upon ash
"Bones, death, rebirth"
As no longer afflicted,
I am once again blanched as purest darkness
Is Neither black or grey
"But lucid white"
"As purity is only clean"
"I am purity of darkness"
And the taints of humanity are flakes upon
Silent statues upon the ground, I am malevolent incarnate..
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
I sit here with so many thoughts going thru my head
I just want to close my eyes and go to bed.
How many times have you felt the pressures taking its toll?
And you want something concrete that you can hold.
You daydream of the way you would like things to be
But you come back to the realities
You know that you must strive to achieve your goals
And not let anything stand in your way
But then you leave it for another day.
Procrastination is always there,
And with your thoughts the space it will share.
You say “leave it for tomorrow and a brand new day”
But tomorrow comes and it’s washed away.
These are the pressures that are taking its tolls
When you lose your control.
Don’t leave off for tomorrow what you can do today
With procrastination there’s a heavy price to pay
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 8:00 PM UTC
I sit here with so many thoughts going thru my head
I just want to close my eyes and go to bed.
How many times have you felt the pressures taking its toll?
And you want something concrete that you can hold.
You daydream of the way you would like things to be
But you come back to the realities
You know that you must strive to achieve your goals
And not let anything stand in your way
But then you leave it for another day.
Procrastination is always there,
And with your thoughts the space it will share.
You say “leave it for tomorrow and a brand new day”
But tomorrow comes and it’s washed away.
These are the pressures that are taking its tolls
When you lose your control.
Don’t leave off for tomorrow what you can do today
With procrastination there’s a heavy price to pay
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 8:00 PM UTC
“Put pressure on it, it needs more pressure”
Holding your wounds shut
That senseless force is what took you away
Pressure- to be... whilst not desiring to be
You saw the clouds moving in greyscale
I saw the hills below scattered in shades of green,
Cavernous, shadowed, cryptic, familiar-
We were advised to go as the crow flies
I cried to a nameless God that your crow’s feet
Were from insurmountable happiness, not the pressures endured
I’ve forgotten much since the storm some-178 weeks ago
Though my body remembers yours over and over again
My skin has yours imprinted, correlated
Forged into one point on the axis between here and there
You the X, I the Y
The Earth crept between the crevices, curling
Through the distance between the Right radius and ulna
Elbows breaking knuckles, blood remains to be spilt
Blood doesn’t connect, if anything it merely separates
Scarecrows don’t help much when the crops won’t grow this year
Ants crawled out of the barrel of a shotgun
Observing the process of cleaning bones after tragedy
Follow the moss to find your way North with no direction-
Sometimes on the other side it’s not greener,
It’s more terrifying than ever before
Terrain untouched, unspoiled, sacred-
Climb up the trees with me, find your quiet
We won’t carve our names but we’ll find our niche
You’ll have quills and I’ll have armor
Not even the thought of stolen arrows,
Lost time through distance,
Or perhaps a slew of chemical imbalances
Can reach us up here
I chose to glue your pieces back together with mud and straw
Taken from the fallen, the loved and now distant memories
You may be an abandoned military base offshore
What was once used by many-
Witnesses life again, life of a different kind
The vegetation will ease its way into the cracks
Constructed when the foundation began to decay
It has a beauty of its own, one of self-sustainment
An everlasting beauty that connects itself
To the surrounding extravagance, often times ignored,
Death isn’t the only way to be forged into nature, remembered
Fear doesn’t always win, nor death do us part so soon
I hope your skin and bones remember before the end
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 1:34 AM UTC
A kiss.
A small thing,
like a mustard seed
compared to the crushing
pressures of our desperate world.
But, doesn't the sweet, small, precious
gesture revive the soul,
heal the mind,
and quicken the flesh?
Oh, yes, richly so!
May the new year give me
thus,
this fleeting gift,
that small miracle.
May it come sweetly and
may my longing be satisfied,
to experience a taste
of a unity divine;
when two lovers,
in the twinkling of an eye,
become one.
May the mountain of my
solitude be moved,
may a resurrected heart
rise in it's place.
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 4:21 PM UTC
A short poem for all of you Special People that don't want to belong. I am a true radical. I am different. No one really knows who I am. Perhaps, this is the way I want it. Perhaps, this is "the real me."
While growing up, I too didn't "belong" and still don't. Freedom is the right to choose. Often others want to impose their will on you. Too often, it seems that external pressures force us to do things which are not always necessarily in our better interests. Peer pressure, social pressures entrap us, and we end up "going with the flow."
I went through my early education with very few friends. They were what I would define as friends of the moment. Sound advice, have many "friends," but find yourself one "true friend." This is the one to call friend for your entire life. With this true friend, you are going to grow in this world. Growing in confidence, in wisdom, in knowledge, in security and in realizing who you really are. They will be the "Real Mirror" whose reflection, in time, you will honestly be able to call your own.
**For all you radicals, there is a time to stand up and shout
refuse to belong to those that choose the easy way out
For what purpose would he decree, when G-D granted us life
if not to stand firm and avoid all forms of strife
I'm a radical, to this I must admit
always looked upon differently, as if I'm unfit
But why follow others who think they suffice
to control everyone else with the roll of their dice
Having gone through a lot, one begins to discern
there's a time for discipline, and a time for concern
Stand up and be counted, you alone have begun
to realize you can be different, and still be as one
All you radicals, to you alone do I salute
your ways may be different, but none could refute
Imagine our world, without you, what it would be
a place where individuality could never ever be Free....**
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 1:34 AM UTC
Yuletide essays read poorly of spiritual love
Save of winter concerns of cold hands and feet
But to me my warmth is from within and without
From sensitive elements and looks of expectancy
All through the year I am loved and brought home by generous arms
Holding my tender heart with simple fingers of gentleness
At Yule my fears are ones of inability to conform
Yet I know that my love will be kept holding small edifices
Of temperate thoughts and radiant hopes
Lest our love is exposed to the winter blast
It has no maintenance worries as we stay locked
Deeply embracing through the chill of the night
In the mornings there may be white blankets of snow
Which drive others to feel isolation and loneliness
But here at Yule as ever our hearts are as one
Despite the dragging pressures of the seasonal presence
New Year is a triumph of milestone epic
Fantasising our minds with future conquerings
Especially as most are timid in their push for reality
Ours has been honed to supernatural levels
Although we look deeply into bringing these to bear
We know from our hearts these are just around the corner
Upon the very road we travel
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 7:50 AM UTC
You've asked me how can I see a future when love, in all
Its numinous beauty, is waning?
I reply, the immortal stars still shine above the veil of clouds.
You say, why are the salmon swimming to their pools of origin
Only to die as they spawn? Only to die?
I tell you their love is unconditional, like mine.
You ask me did the giant sequoia know it was shelter for the burning grasses
When they walked from the seas? I reply yes they knew.
You question me about the lofty snow cranes that fly over the Himalayas
And I reply by describing
How the priestly flocks, chanting on their mission, honk—
Announcing the mantle steps to the heavens.
You inquire about the elephantine manatees gracing the shallow banks
And wonder if the sea mermaids remember their lives beyond the latitudes
Of capricorn and cancer?
Or you’ve discovered in the wind a new reasoning as to why
The talons of the paired eagles lock in midair as they court?
You want to understand the nimbus garden, ocean slate, of lake Titicaca
Where resides the Andean sea horse gliding above the clouds?
The whales that circle dance in unison collecting krill?
The noetic display of the birds of paradise, the songs of nameless creatures
Playing in the wilderness like a forgotten melody only lovers lips remember?
I want to tell you that true love knows this, that life in its
Prismatic shimmer is all the myriad colours of infinite existence wrapped
In time to the sublime structure of white and bones. I must tell you
That the flower is mighty in its opening, the humming bird is a sorcerer
Who needles ambrosia with vortex wings weaving his way to the Gods.
But I am nothing beside your disbelief which has arrived, before
I can even imagine the sweet awakening, like doom, my shell is the iridescent
Hollow of the one eyed Abalone, discarded in the deep fathoms
Of the ocean pressures.
I swim the tides as you do, investigating
The endless tendril seas,
And in my chest, during the night, I woke up empty,
The only thing treasured, a golden face
Trapped inside my dreams.
— after Neruda
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 6:59 PM UTC
There is a time in a person's life when that internal clock will ring
when a higher force will wake us from our slumber with a sting
having been given individual trials, we hope we'll do our best
but we are insensitive, overcome with laziness, a desire for rest
The little things in life, how so often we take them for granted
quickly losing touch with reality, and becoming disenchanted
thinking we can forge relationships, with the blinking of an eye
failing to feel the hurt we cause others, with our final good-bye
We, as human beings, must first come to acknowledge the truth
the problems we all hide in our closet, they started in our youth
but the error of our thinking, is clear and can only be addressed
when we're willing to accept the fact, that this life is only a test
Attempts at self denial are truly futile, because you remain unchanged
accomplishing nothing, only from yourself will you become estranged
an endless light of healing must be released, to that location unknown
thereby removing that which blocks our thinking, our heart of stone
Your mind is your cage, only if you desire, you can set yourself free
don't believe in the lies you're told, you can be what you want to be
if you never give up, you alone will be able to preserve the true way
by choosing your destiny, no one else will, because this is your day
Liberate yourself from the enslavement, transitory passions of the day
either stand up to the pressures, or you'll just find yourself blown away
you must trust your heart as it knows the truth, and it alone will succeed
choosing the only real path, that path from where the light shall proceed
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 4:21 PM UTC
As a maddened beast it charges
Emanating with expanse
Brute techtonic plate reaction
From the epicentre’s stance.
Huge concentric rings diverge
Expanding at horrific rate
Black, titanic, towering waters
Ploughing to a deadly fate.
*Kneeling in her bed of roses
Pollinating bees abound,
Morning sunbeams kiss her shoulders
Peaceful garden bliss surrounds.*
Surging to the coastal shelf
The black gigantis rears on high
Claws toward the placid beach
Seabirds scatter to the sky.
Tide receds to bare the reef
Stranded mackerel whitely leap,
Enormously the massive wave
Attacks the land and they who sleep.
Death comes fast to they who loiter
Violence in the tangled purge,
Massive pressures, crushing debris
Broken buildings in the surge.
Ships and cars are tossed asunder
Inexorably it slams
Far inland to slay those fleeing
Locked in highway traffic jams.
*Strange roar at the garden wall
Terrified, she finds her feet,
Roses, bees, sweet girl engulfed
As black entombedment swamps the street.*
Far inland the chaos flows
Wreaking death's destructive bands,
Halted now by highland hills
Where souls in horror, wring their hands.
Slow retraction leaving ruin
Desolation far and wide,
The smell of new death in the air,
Heartbreak in the countryside.
Marshalg
For Nippon
18 March 2011
Mar 17, 2011
Mar 17, 2011 at 4:44 PM UTC