"prohibit" poems
To be a woman
Is to be property
To act ladylike
Is to mold into the stereotype
To speak up is unheard of
Just go crawl behind the white man you see in front of you
A glimpse
Of steel is all you see before
The warmth of blood drains every part
Every being you thought to be strong
Now gone
Pick up the pieces
Bandage that wound
We have a war
One that was fought before
Blood on the knife
Stained the suit of the man walking to the congress chair
He holds it up with a smile
And the other men in the house follow
As they add it to the closet of achievements
We are strong
We are not blind to perspective
We see in color
Stitch up the knife wound
Targeted at the abdomen
Property does not fight back
A piece of land does not speak words
The cornfields do not unite
To be a woman
Is to have a voice
One loud enough to be heard over laws
That prohibit natural human rights
Our bodies are not to be tagged by the market vendor down the street
Politicians now playing a game of operation in their makeshift white coats
Forgetting all that we have achieved
Women's bodies are now more dangerous
Than a gun on school property
To have a body
Is to have a choice
To be a woman
Is to bring justice and unity to all
Jun 1, 2020
Jun 1, 2020 at 12:25 PM UTC
i’ve never had feelings for anyone who could be good for me. i’ve never been interested in someone where a good, healthy relationship could’ve resulted, and maybe that’s why i’m so jaded, because everyone i’ve ever liked has just been a distraction or a house on fire— someone i know i shouldn’t be involved with, but i’ll give myself just a few more days to run around frantically with my hands over my eyes, peaking through the cracks between my fingers, searching for things i know i don’t really need, and then i’ll dash out and run down the driveway and the smog will linger for a little while, and the neighbors will complain, and i’ll sit on the curb with my forehead on my knees, holding nothing but intangible regret. next, i’ll either get over it, or obsessively think about him and the ashes smudged on the inside of my eyelids for longer than my sanity. i’ve never really liked someone and been able to daydream about the real possibility of us turning into something greater; of tire swings and painted mailboxes and overgrown, green lawns. it’s always been pretending and fake hope and melodramatic doom. i think it’s messed up my perception of having feelings for someone, because i can never take it seriously— either i know he’s not right for me, or i know the circumstances prohibit the possibility of us. it makes me never want to give anyone a chance (i can’t even see anyone worth chance-giving) because i know how it ends. i don’t like having this closed off heart so early on; i’m too young to be this bitter.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 10:10 PM UTC
1356
The Rat is the concisest Tenant.
He pays no Rent.
Repudiates the Obligation—
On Schemes intent
Balking our Wit
To sound or circumvent—
Hate cannot harm
A Foe so reticent—
Neither Decree prohibit him—
Lawful as Equilibrium.
6.1k
1734
Oh, honey of an hour,
I never knew thy power,
Prohibit me
Till my minutest dower,
My unfrequented flower,
Deserving be.
3.9k
what the hell is love anyway? why is there this supposed special connection to someone. And why do we fret so much when it goes away? what makes it different than a friendship? is it the extra doses of horomones you get from kissing? (wich, lets face it, is oly a trigger to the brain to think of ****** contact) why must humans search and find this ONE person the propose impossible promises to? Most animals just let their ****** need envelope them when they choose and dont think too much on the subject. But doses of religion and morals of society prohibit us from doing that. Are those morals the things telling us to seek out this unreasonable aspect of love? are those morals the secret to these pain-inflicting circumstances? becasue, all feelings are are certain levels and mixtures of horomones in the brain, so love is nothing more than a science. The thing that seperates the link between enjoing someone as a friend and as a suitor is *** and the eason people get heartbroken and cry over losers who hurt them are merely the fault of morals
Jun 6, 2010
Jun 6, 2010 at 4:50 PM UTC
I know people,
who apparently can judge the entire being of a person
on the fact that they smoke.
Making judgements
by the cigarette
that hangs from their mouth.
The image in their heads
says that this person is bad
but that's just the ignorance talking.
I know people,
who smoke
cigarettes and ****
These people enjoy the feeling
like the taste
or it's to stop the shakes.
Some of these people
have huge hearts and open minds
greater than all the haters.
I know people,
who drink and party
because they think that's fun.
If that's what you like
then who am I to stop you
but that's not my cup of tea.
I prefer a nice tobacco pipe
and a great book
while I ponder life's questions.
So **** you and your childish judgements
that cloud your mind
and prohibit you.
Open up and maybe someone
will be willing and able
to care about you again.
Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 3:57 AM UTC
I sit here contemplating altruism.
I wonder why I get frustrated when there is no reciprocation.
Teach a man to fish, he will steal all your business.
Give a beggar coins, he can only buy a pint of Guinness.
I'm ******* tired of this **** Somebody is living their dreams by taking mine away. I'd rather be beaten and hit than give up one more day.
Like trying to play guitar for others, just to be told "You ****
I try to ignore the deterring phrase, "You'll never make a buck".
Teach a child love and tolerance, he will be abused and stepped on.
Give a loser a second chance, he will steal from you when you're gone.
Altruism doesn't exist. It's in my nature to share this exhibit.
Too bad it hurts me, feels like my belief is somehow complicit.
I hope I can see what I should give, and what I should prohibit.
Judge my charity, my gifts, my intentions, these words from my lips.
You call me an altruistic ******* But you're just a selfish piece of ****
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC
Let's ban beer,
Expel wine,
Prohibit whiskey.
Let's banish ****
Curse smokes,
Relegate ***
Drive off knives,
Expatriate guns,
Deport bullies and fists.
Let's ward off the devine,
And the ghosts,
And those who think
They're holy sons;
In any or all
Religions.
Let's proclaim a holy war,
A jihad, if you wish,
Crusade against what
Makes us human,
And live in boring bliss.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
*** on the beach
Sand between our toes
Hearing the sound of the waves
As we both moan
Turned us on even more
Living out his fantasy near the Pacific Ocean
In this cold temperature our bodies bring warmth
Beach regulations doesn't prohibit this act
Placing kisses on my lips and around my neck
No lifeguard on duty
As he drowns inside me
Wetness of the ocean couldn't compare
We live for these moments for him and I to share
Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 10:17 AM UTC
i always fidget with my itches
then itch raw with each digit
of the rigid way we squirm with
words we feel to be explicit
but rearranged we're indifferent
without the frame we're elicit
no stopping shame that exhibits
the way your brain always listens
even in pain it's persistent
you can't prohibit the accident
of unwitting existence
don't say sorry to the superstitious fiction
stay judicious
just ease your mind with the lyrics
and grind the grass to find distance
don't mind, the path meets resistance
the system we're in's nonexistant
i'll build a fire ladder for each fallacy
and scale every rhythm
just cleaning out all desire
mind going off like a piston
mankind don't need this fine attire
but the dior keeps us christian
not built to feed to designers
only a liar does glisten
yet we find ourselves requiring
our own kind of inquisitions
in addiction and prison
a shiny label don't listen
so without your permission
i'll find my own set of prescriptions
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 1:29 PM UTC
I used to hold my tongue
Stop my fists
Prohibit negative thoughts
Speak to comfort
Unravel my fists
Think happy thoughts
I used to hide my screams
Bite my cheek
Think before I spoke
Speak softly
Release my teeth
Think and don't say at all
I can't do it anymore
I scream out loud
Bang my fists
Blurt all of my thoughts
I can't do it anymore
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 9:40 PM UTC
Do sleepless nights yield heavy thoughts?
Or do the synapses firing prohibit silent slumber?
Neural highways at traffic jam capacity
Rush hour never ends when I retire
Electrical signals consistently skip and zip
Awake or asleep, thinking or dreaming
Mystifying visions of past, present and future
Entertain the brain while the body refreshes
A blissful recollection of pure jubilation
Transitions the mind into sweet meditation
My alarm becomes a synaptic disturbance
The ears at the receiving end of the siren
Alert, alive, living
But exhausted from the Prednisone Curse
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
I don’t know how many times i’ve had to use a number two pencil.
Whether Ticonderoga or some off brand.
As though number one is something you cannot mention.
As though number one is something too fragile for you.
I don’t know how many ways I could compare myself to a number one pencil.
Other boys and girls prohibit interaction with both of us.
Limited interaction with us is necessary.
It’s as though we have no purpose among this world.
It’s required to use a number two just like it’s required to shut your mouth when you’re seventeen
Adults tell me, “you will use a number two”.
Their voices like thunder enveloping my opinion making it evaporate with all beauty and sense I withhold.
It’s been a repetition.
Number two number two number two.
Number two is used number one so technically number one is number two.
Number two number two number two
Number in all
Number two to my father, number two to my peers, number two in grades, anxiety, depression, the relationships in which they’ve been unfaithful, inexhaustible cravings for escape but suicide will make me number one
So technically, when you’ve sharpened number twos to their limit, they become number one.
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 10:41 PM UTC
She brought me such pleasure
True mate of my soul
Her touch I so treasure
Her pain I so loathe…
As I wait watching
The stars for a sign
My grip it grows tighter
Across space in lost time…
Her voice soothingly echoes
Lucid charm of my dream
Her body lies temptingly
Wide open for me…
The world may prohibit
Still the gods they do dare
Desire of my soul
Sweet magic we share…
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
Can't we choose the air that coalesces with our blood?
Can't we decide the only time to let our lids shut and unlock?
Can't we pick the only lumps we want to sprout from our structures?
Can't we select the parts we would rather have blemished?
Can't we prohibit the leaky drops of saline our eyes secrete?
Or forbid our visage from exposing an out of control kaleidoscope?
Can't we stop our pumps from thrashing and throbbing and telling on us?
As well as command our malfunctioning extremities to quit giving away our state?
Can't we instead just bring out our insides without dissecting the outside?
Can't we just emit what we mean to sound off by just lip-syncing?
Can't we really do anything without a swad of nerves tell us no?
While having every stretch of muscle and vein say yes?
Can't we just...
Can't we really?
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
Somewhere underneath the rubble a century old soul lies.
Hammers pound, wood-chippers whir.
A chaotic landfill of past, present, and future.
Welcome to my mind.
The signs prohibit visitors and many don't realize the rusted metal warnings are only guises.
With palms aching and restless feet, you crawl over the shattered sky to find me.
Here,
we can pretend to care about life's many quandries together.
Dig underneath the limestone with me,
take off your coat and stay a while.
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 8:35 PM UTC
Drip Drop Drink
Oh fill my glass to the
Brink!
Drip Drop Drink
Why does this elixir prohibit me to
think?
Drip Drop Drink
Why does this cause all my thoughts to
Shrink?
Drip Drop Drink
I take another sip and gradually
Sink.
Drip Drop Drink
My pen desperately tries to regurgitate
ink.
Drip Drop Drank
My thoughts have becoming teasingly
blank
Drip Drop Done
I will never be his only
one.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
sweet downfall,
i find myself crashing harder than the time before
i'm chasing what i've romanticized,
a false interpretation that
his smile was the only source of light in my mind's darkest crevasses,
his eyes were full of an expected curiosity
but i've learned not to lean on my own understanding
he pulled streams from my eyes without awareness,
and he keeps these tides continuous
it seems like i can't get the image
of sitting in the passenger seat,
watching the lights of the traffic signals
reflect on his face,
camouflaging his blushing cheeks
out of my head of distorted dreams
and impossible realities
i lean in until i wake up
he is oil,
i am water,
somehow the laws of the universe
prohibit us from ever meeting.
one of us is handling that predicament
better than the other.
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC
I, myself prohibit
myself to reveal our secret,
to say your full name,
or even write it when I write.
A prisoner of you I am,
Searching in the shadows the caverns of my agony.
When I invoke you when I am alone,
In the dark rock I touch your impassible company.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
As I slipped inside the sliding doors,
In silence, I roamed, the reticent floors,
Searching for an impeccable book.
With open eyes, alone, I looked.
Covers as bright as lemon zest
Glittered like gold amongst the rest.
Each blurb I perused, with bated breath,
To find those that sparkled, had no depth.
I placed them gently, upon the shelves,
To patiently wait amongst themselves.
I knew that they would discover their place,
Within the warmth of another’s embrace.
Deep beneath each cover lies
A soul to read: to accept, defy?
With battered heart and broken mind,
I longed for the book I couldn’t find.
Eyes downcast upon the floor,
I chanced upon an open door.
For there you were, on darker ground,
Waiting, like a dog at a pound.
Your cover worn, and pages frayed;
Intrigued to see how you were made.
Open mind, I removed my doubt,
And with my card, I took you out.
Others scoffed, at my aberrant choice
To them, my disgust, I had to voice;
They only saw your beaten cover,
But I read deep; now I’m your lover.
My love has blossomed, though sometimes we fight.
We can’t always agree on what is right.
But in the end, our lover’s quarrel,
Has taught me yet, another moral.
Although your pages are black and white,
Does not mean, that you are always right.
I feel that there are shades of grey;
That everyone should have their say.
Each night I spend with you in bed,
Helps me rest my somnolent head;
Dreaming of lands I’ve never been
And people that I’ve never seen.
You show me sunsets, on the foreshore,
Make me giggle, whilst the seagulls soar.
A range of emotions you elicit;
No path in my mind, do you prohibit.
Now I, take you, to be my guide,
As man takes woman to be his bride;
For you wrote deep on the tablet of my heart,
I shall treasure you forth, ‘til death do us part.
Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 12:17 PM UTC
Trace my soul with your lips
Brush my cheek with your eyelashes
Whisper love in my ear as we fall into trance
This is our modern romance
4 am daemons inhibit us
They prohibit us from lying
We are tying iron naughts
Our minds and thoughts wander into distraught
And yet we are calm
So dead set on dreaming through the darkest hour
And so we do
Both quietly sighing words resembling I love you
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 10:57 PM UTC
Wine for the church, Water for the poor, leaving ashes of blood, Underestimating love
Bodies feel cold with their prays, Expressions get reduce through their truth, But they will underestimate
Phrases that will change the minimum thought of law, And we all share the same blood, But we all live the same hopes, drinking the pure selfishness of their books
May they judge their own coverage? May they proof wrong from our living? Could there be more excuses from them to keep excluding us?
There’s not a lot for them to defend, But they had proven their power to prohibit And lies to overstate
But I heard that their father loves everyone equally, Which his sons have proven wrongly, In which galaxy we’ll be eating from the same plate?
When we’ll be kissing the same face? But we all share the same blood, And we all live the same hopes, Drinking the pure selfishness out of their world
Wine for church, Water for the poor, Leaving ashes of blood, Underestimating love.
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 6:42 PM UTC
A some day will come,
a sun day, a one day.
A day full of fortune and so-
the earth will inhibit
the meek will prohibit
and all that is prosper shall flow.
Though from the tips and the grips of the few
who hold onto the dreams they did sew,
their future permit it
their mother forgives it,
so long as the fortune does grow
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 3:28 PM UTC
We contradict here, all the premonitions of old,
that as hollow men and women, we should rise,
and take into our hand a pre-existing cause,
to band together, kindred of our character.
Though we strive to be forbidden to the difference,
harvested collaborators to our unrestrained hearts,
As our spirits try to ascend, we prohibit their actions.
We are bidden, overridden, and we are ******
Did we grip our brother’s hand when he was losing?
Did we tend our mother’s hurt when she was broke?
We deprived our very sister, to implore till she was dead,
and we refereed the fingers, which fed us until they bled.
As a single man once intoned, on a stairway miles away;
We must subsist and struggle as one great homeland,
carry our neighbor’s burdens as though they were our own.
one kin, one race, though the color of skin may diverge.
Let us not stop in our virtuous endeavor, our strong destiny,
We are Lords of the future, master and slave, there be none.
We have risen from the catacombs of supreme despondency,
have accepted the heretical pressure of a ruined significance.
The night is no longer our mission; we travel unstained portals,
those which have always foreshadowed our meager gains.
We live for love, and cannot only give earned compassion.
We must love for the sake of devotion, and the sake of bounty.
We will take the apprehension of the mother, and the father,
and we will pacify it, will comfort their woes, and they will smile.
We will teach the child to go forth into the Dark, an existing torch,
upholding what we see as the shadows of bravery and optimism.
And when the times comes, and we lay down to die in peace,
we go, knowing the world had its little exploit of freedom,
its earned hope, not wasted, against bleak souls of the depraved,
having permitted the sun to shine; smiling as we resign to fate.
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 3:00 AM UTC