"pushback" poems
I think back on my childhood.
Times that we're still good,
Before they switched it up,
Like, "Now it's time for adulthood."
Spent 18 years behind a desk,
Told to play at break,
Now life feels unrelated, and it feels like a **** waste.
It isn't useless, it just isn't right.
Train me to throw fists,
Then toss me into a knife fight.
What'd you prepare me for?
I still struggle with my taxes,
I got a degree, but it feels like I'm still stuck with all the masses.
After all these years,
It feels like I was taught wrong,
Guided down a path that my heart and soul didn't sit right on.
And every now and then
I start to fight back,
But no one likes it when you start to vary off the track.
They pushback
Like, "No, not that".
But I am not you.
So, **** that!
And I struggle but you can't see it though.
Always talk about me like I'm a lazy bloke,
Say I'm part of the lazy folk,
But your path to happiness,
Is my ******* hell road.
I think back on my childhood.
Times that we're still good...
At least, that's how it felt back then...
Jul 27, 2023
Jul 27, 2023 at 3:05 AM UTC
I struggle so deeply
to feel at home in my body,
all I feel when I look at my chest
is all of the men that used me like a doll
of my mom shaming me in my head
for my big *******
and how "provocative " I am
for just existing,
for society sexualizing me,
for all the women that hated me for my body/looks,and objectified me
and all the men that "loved" me /used me just for my body and sexualized me
with their eyes.
It hurts so deeply to feel so violated all the time
it echoes in my mind,body and soul
all the repeated violations words, looks and all the aching laughter,
the way everyone in my family
sexualized me since I was a child,
so intern I internalized all the hatred to my body and my chest.
I just wander if these people truly understand
how much their actions truly affect others,
how deeply I suffer with complex post trauma all the time
and dysphoria sometimes,
from the deep pain of ****** violence
when I truly look at it all,
its not even wanting to be a man
so much so , as wanting to be seen as a person.
who is worthy of being heard,
not because I am pretty ***** or curvy
or hot or ****
but because I am smart I am strong
I am impressive and resiliant
have a beautiful mind
and I am not just how I look
or how I present.
My whole life I was influenced and taught to believe
that my only value as a women
was my looks,
or to be chosen by a man or by my society,
and to exist as a baby making machine,
while not complaining or being "too much ".
That I shouldn't show my body too much , & that I should always look good 24/7,like I am a doll of some kind, instead of a human being.
How my body was the reason for men sinning
and how I would go to hell for my thoughts or behaviors
if I wasn't perfect.
Now I am realizing none of that truly matters,
and I don't wanna live the rest of my life
chasing validation,
or feeling like I need others approval to feel whole inside,
I wanna accept who I am
love who I am
and like myself for who I am,
and not just for my looks or for my body or sexuality,
but for who I am down to my core
the good and the seemingly bad imperfections
to feel safe in myself and that is beautiful to just be me
without needing to put on a show for anyone.
Jun 21, 2023
Jun 21, 2023 at 3:59 PM UTC
Life is a magnet;
Attracting what we like
Retracting statements;
Only after society's pushback
Hearts sometimes made of iron;
Irony seeing a hard life through soft eyes
As people are meant to be deep oceans;
But a man swims shallow— afraid to cry
Deepened by the weary of provision
Yet not provided a listening ear
She calls, _"why won't you come near"_
He's a magnet, pushed in a corner by fears
...trapped in society's magnetic fields
Jan 22, 2023
Jan 22, 2023 at 2:34 PM UTC
You are trying to rush me
Out of the bookstore.
Ice cream is not a substitute
For paper friends, fool.
Leave me, eventually I
Will unwind my way out
Back to reality and your
Overpriced milk products.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 3:52 PM UTC
The rain falls, the light rises, darkness caresses the city
Passing cars and passed out pedestrians pile on
Darkness and moisture cling to what is not
Illuminated streets from billboards, street lamps, and storefronts
These passing lights fool me into thinking it is day
It is Night
Smoke from the sewers dance around me as I walk through
Will the beating rhythm of cars and shouts ever sleep?
A city that never sleeps
Colors glide over the sodden streets, through thunderous rain
A storm that beats down, hard, ambient, ever present
Inexorable tides of water from the sky
Headlights blind but never linger, as I walk my hustled step
In and around the grid that weakens the foolhardy
But rises those up, just the same
Thousands of buildings, thousands of droplets, all meeting each other
Those skyward skyscrapers are the swords into the clouds
Meeting them with their stand
New York meets everything with pushback
Umbrellas against the wet, Brutality against the poor, Sorrow against the weak
Love-hate calls to them
I stare across the river, to the skyscrapers of another world
Nothing to the majesty and soul crushing weight I get to walk under
A concrete welcome to The Jungle
All that is will be undone, those lights, those cars, those wonders
I among them fade into antiquity, my footprints lost into the washing grime
All is nothing against Time
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 12:30 AM UTC
You kept on pressing down
as if my heart couldn't break at all
As if the pressure you applied
would not take it's heavy toll
You kept on pressing down
as if my body could absorb
Every blow and every insult
rebounding off your inner wars
You kept on pressing down
not believing I'd react
But now it's me who's pressing down
and you who's on your back
May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 2:35 AM UTC