"readjust" poems
Brokenhearted lovers.
Learn to let go.
To try to control anyone.
Means you have no control at all.
Brokenhearted lovers.
Seek ways to heal.
Losing a lover is a bitter pill.
But move on.
Readjust your feelings to be free of hurt.
And it starts the moment you accepts the hurt.
Insecurity is a weakness of fear.
When you yearn for your love.
Who has found another?
Even if they were dishonest with you.
Accept it as a sign.
They wasn't worth of the essence of you.
Built up a inner strength that you control.
And when the next lover comes along.
They will cherish you more than you thought possible.
Counsel yourself.
All because it's free.
And you'll find in yourself.
A strength that can't be bent.
So brokenheart soul explore yourself.
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 11:41 PM UTC
Let me love you right as a friend.
Let me hold you tight.
Give a kiss goodnight towards the end.
Wake up to that morning light
My female friends said my heart is like gold.
A caring perfection never controlled.
This a story never foretold
Express your problems never untold.
I’m here to help you carry that load.
Take your time as I hold your hand.
Because I’m DatGuy an Understanding Gentleman.
Your conscience is saying “Let him in”.
I’ll give all my trust...it won’t hurt.
Take the time to readjust...please insert.
I’m giving you a meal before dessert.
This is real..deal or no deal.
Like the game show with Howie.
I know your wondering DatGuy “how is he?”
“Why is he so attractively getting too attached to me.”
I always say I have an old soul so classically.
Like a musical masterpiece.
I’m just here because I had to be.
Your just here because you had to see.
I want you to believe not every male.
Would lie or tell-a-tale towards a female.
There’s only a few very passionate.
This is true no need to imagine it...
I want you to understand me.
As a friend no make believe or pretend.
That I’m here for you until the day we end.
Right now let’s enjoy this Day as it Begins..
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 10:06 AM UTC
I blamed it all on Scorpius—
my secret self, the sting, the lust,
my conditional approach to trust.
I shrugged at Mars when jealousy
and suspicion got the best of me;
I was just his astral devotee.
And my vengeful hate for all unjust?
It all went back to Scorpius,
but, alas, I hovered on the cusp;
I'm Libra now. I'll readjust.
Feb 7, 2011
Feb 7, 2011 at 10:43 AM UTC
Waking up the morning after,
I can only recall the excessive laughter.
The great vibes shared in one moment in time,
It was all so beautiful, the highest of highs.
****
My glance embarrassingly detects
the frightful fact the mirror reflects.
A bathroom tagged with the night's mistakes,
Rorschach like markings of drinks and rare steaks.
Always said "Yes", lacking all inhibition.
I wish last night I lived its definition.
So I readjust my head and all of the fixtures,
and pray to god no one took any pictures.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
Sometimes I sit in order to readjust thoughts
I sit to feel nothing, but end up feeling something
Like multiple desires
or scattered emotions that can make me lose my original thought
Where I'm able to hold conversations with myself
Now isn't that something...
Humans as "Transformers"?
We are literally made up with different human beings within ourselves
Optimus Prime
I like that name. Does everyone agree?
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
Hurt.
Love endures.
Pain.
Love endures.
Trouble.
Love endures.
Together.
Love endures.
Separation.
Love endures.
We aren't as weak as we think.
We stronger.
Notice when pushed in a corner.
How we readjust to that situation?
Because love can pull you through.
Defeat comes from surrendering.
Before you even tried.
Love endures over pride.
Sometimes you have to eliminate it.
Because love endures.
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 9:28 AM UTC
I want to run away from it all
to escape the rat race's incessant call
to be left to be myself
alone but happy on the shelf
I want to run away from it all
I want to start again somewhere new
Doing only all the things I want to do
No more obligated chores
Washing windows, scrubbing floors
I want to start again somewhere new
I want to buy some land and build a yurt
Live off grid so Mother Earth I don't hurt
Water heated by the sun
Organic gardening for fun
I want to buy some land and build a yurt
I want to sit a write by candlelight
Not a CF bulb or fluorescent tube in sight
No noise or light pollution
would be my perfect solution
I want to sit and write by candle light
I want to be awoken by the sun
not just on special days but every one
readjust my body clock
to natures silent tick and tock
I want to be awoken by the sun
I want to run away, you wanna come?
One is great but really two is twice the fun.
Loving life the way it's meant
Two poets in a tent
I want to run away you wanna come?
Jul 5, 2010
Jul 5, 2010 at 5:48 PM UTC
Sometimes, things wear out.
Creating holes and gaps often complicating the simplest of things.
Sometimes love is a lot like socks.
Some are long, some are short.
Hell some even come up to the height of knees.
Some are bland. Some are colorful.
Baring the fruit of comforting something bare enough to be considered as precious.
Devilish things, socks.
Sometimes they create more problems than they are worth.
Coming apart at the seams,
Getting caught between your toes.
Constantly having to stop and readjust your shoe when no one is looking.
Or flat out just take your shoe off and fix it.
I thought I brought the right size.
Carefully reading the label,
Sometimes that one size fits all is just a lie.
In time all things wear.
Just don't be foolish enough to not enjoy the comfort of the simple things.
This at all isn't comparing you to a pair of socks, no not at all.
If ever I was to become overweight.
You'd be the pair of suspenders that hold my pants up when my belt can't fit anymore
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 2:50 PM UTC
a venerable set of pearls
got placed on her bare skin
as she felt the coldness
rush through her body
she glanced down
to readjust the gold clasp
seeing her matte red lips
in their polished reflection
the cream-colored pearls
felt so heavy on her neck
and made her nervous heart
seem to sink into her chest
they were her grandmother’s
her mom told her long ago
as she imagined seeing her grandma
walk down the aisle so beautifully
she held onto the pearls
with fond memories of love
as she opened her mouth
and said the words
“I do”
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 7:36 PM UTC
I am like a plane
I read somewhere or heard somewhere
I think on NPR
about what it's like to see the world!
from a plane window.
Imagining is having the sights before you!
from a plane window.
The clouds and the blue blue blue
It's the atmosphere.
Dear God! You're actually flying
Except you're in a whites only plane.
Oh! If only it could be bottled and given to the masses
Ms. Marlowe introduced me to Prometheus.
To search for a way
to have what you imagine in yr dreams and in books and hopes
to be before you
is a ropebridge.
It only snaps in the movies baby!
If you're any different
and it snaps for you,
you got death.
Which is what you wanted all along,
no?
When I was a child my mind was ratchet like a plane in turbulence
it is rickety
the space between Trinidad and Tobago makes me readjust my insides and outsides
Climbing Climbing he shakes and flatlines
He becomes a hero he knew all along
Modern Medicine can make freed slaves become the mothers and fathers of the rice cripsies
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 5:14 PM UTC
the sting your stubble left is still lingering on my lips,
like invisible mosquito bites that tickle more than itch,
as i wrap my arms around your neck, i ask:
just friends? and readjust myself in your lap.
so you pull me in closer, you nod to confirm:
the two of us, we’re nothing more than zookeepers.
throwing fresh meat in the den of the lioness,
controlling those animals lying deep inside of us.
Jul 27, 2012
Jul 27, 2012 at 2:25 PM UTC
Turns out,
I’m an idiot
who knows nothing and does no good.
I watch the moon go down
every couple months
to readjust my calendar
and pour my non-organic coffee from
glass pots made in emerging markets.
You may say we’re losing the world
or that the Earth should be preserved—
Fine.
I **** at the feet of your bourgeois children and their plastic, antibacterial lunchboxes.
For me there is no world to lose.
Apr 19, 2011
Apr 19, 2011 at 9:41 PM UTC
I like you because you have let me be me,
Whatever that means.
Whatever that means.
You'd never mold me, change me, or readjust my seams.
You like me for me.
You like me for me.
I'd let you change my accent, my haircut, unimportant things,
Just don't cut my wings.
Just don't cut my wings.
Dec 21, 2010
Dec 21, 2010 at 1:38 PM UTC
Time and space unidentifiable
Afloat midair—hands and feet
Reasons and instincts, a hazy distance
Focus.
Stumbling awkwardly—a dull thud—all faults are revealed
On one ankle, a societal ***** tightens
Calloused by sharp emotions, numbed on hardened skin
I, on show behind the glass case—but that isn't me
All the truths became fiction, therefore I became a lie
Cake this mind of mine with makeup, don't let the sadness smear
A whirlpool, a hollow core, conflicted once again
At this point—although overdue:
Can this muddy rock still become the promised pearl?
A lurking presence of my fading self
In an unknown place, out of reach
There's the brutal wind, crashing-
Stumbling again, trampling in dust
Did the colours just fade?
My vision has never been this grey
That vibrant self of mine, where has it gone-
Is it gone
"Without conditions you must struggle,"
Those people aren't my enemies, don't misunderstand
There simply was nobody by my side
Walking this place alone so no one could hurt me—backfired
The world looks so noisy from the outside
Better readjust that person of mine
So I can at least fall asleep some day, even if by accident
To recover from this senseless jetlag of emotions
Traveled within the strict space of a room
I'll breathe it well—the last cold gush of air
To those creatures who coexisted within me
Have you all been well?
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 12:05 PM UTC
A friend once told me that all of his inspiration was lost, it was a half past 2.
I wondered how much of himself it would cost to wander a bit, and try something new.
Maybe this is out of the blue, but perhaps we can find inspiration in all of its absence, too.
Inspiration is in me and it's in you.
It's where you sit right now, just enjoying the view.
It's the smiles that graze by you, if only a few.
It's the change in the space that could never be replaced.
A positive embrace that becomes written all over my face.
I told him, "sometimes, we must change our questions and readjust our eyes. And by surprise, the sunset becomes the sunrise."
The difference between a decline and an incline.
The distance between looking forward and falling behind.
Inspiration that is in front of us -
The heart invested trust that sends us a rush that is never undone.
The cold-hearted lust that turns to love under the sun.
Your words are not lost, they have only just begun.
To wander is to observe.
We find inspiration between the fine lines of all the words that we've heard.
I told him that I think we deserve to imagine our world...
To become what you desire to serve.
To see all the lessons learned and unlearned, in the midst of your hurt.
My last words curved, without a slur -
"Stay grounded. There is always inspiration implanted in the dirt."
- L.G.
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 4:54 PM UTC
I'm sorry, my dear.
I try not to miss you, but it's hard.
I feel discarded even though that wasn't the case.
You ended our partnership by completely justifiable terms,
And you are the most wonderful person I could've met,
But I can't move on even though you felt I'd be happier doing so,
Instead of waiting for you to readjust your life
When the truth is I'd be happier waiting.
I'm sorry, my dear.
I'd like to apologize; you're still on my mind nearly every hour.
You're an intruder of my thoughts, but welcome in my arms.
You sit in silence in my subconscious,
As it yells to you to answer, to assure me that you still love me.
And it drives me insane, because I know you still do.
What I don't know is if you still want me or not,
But I know that I want you way too much.
I'm sorry, my dear.
I don't know where to go from here.
I'm not sure if I should fight for you, or if I should go completely.
I'm leaning towards a compromise to be casual with you,
But I'm unsure if that would do me more harm than good.
I never understood what bitterness and jealousy was
Until I loved you, and I found myself finding other men vile
Merely for sharing a common passion: you.
I'm sorry, my dear.
I should leave well enough alone.
Perhaps it is better for us to be apart,
But I just don't see it yet.
But all I can see in the future is you or a void of confusion and emptiness,
So you can see why I'm having such a hard time picking the latter.
I know I should live in the moment and not the past.
But the past was the happiest time of my life.
I'm sorry, my dear.
I wish I could make you understand.
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 11:09 AM UTC
First day of 8th grade sex-ed class,
Sitting awkwardly beside you in my seat.
Closing our math binders in sync,
The health teacher strides in.
"Take out your folders class!" a loud voice booms,
I scramble to find it.
Taking out blank paper to write notes,
The teacher launching into a fast paced lecture.
"Thistopicisveryimportantblahblahnolaughingblah--"
Losing track of the words I stop and look to your sheet and copy,
To only see you have written one word--your name.
You notice me looking as I smirk at you.
I try to hold in the giggles,
Even though it isn't funny.
You reacting the same way.
I look up and catch your eye and I feel my tummy doing turns,
Why do you do this to me?
You look like your blushing but I couldn't tell as we both looked away,
Do I make you feel the same way?
We mirror movements without noticing it,
Life isn't making much sense to me.
I slump in my seat already bored of this lesson and let my hands hang loose,
I then realize how close to you I am, your warm breath blowing down my neck.
I can feel you look at me,
Me wavering under your gaze.
You do something surprising,
You slip your fingers through mine under the desk,
Hidden away from view.
I feel myself panicking my breath coming out faster,
Blushing like a cherry red tomato.
I readjust my grip reassuringly squeezing your hand in a friendly gesture.
They say your first love never lasts.
But a girl can dream.
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 10:14 PM UTC
Constantly moving
She fell into orbit around a desolate planet
Prepared to change, rearrange, alter pieces to fit flawlessly
A planet devoid of gravity made it seem impossible
to stay grounded in a system doomed for destruction
Promises exchanged, plans made
Easily pushed aside
preferring an unfamiliar one-sided view
through a crimson tinted telescope lens
Desperate for her dark reality
to converge with a bright future
no matter how brief the eclipse may be
She struggles to weave her life through the threads of a hopeless universe
leaving her, in time, to readjust her orbit around another.
Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 9:00 PM UTC
Although I’m sure my presence is starting to become more than a little vexatious, I still hold your hand as often as I possibly can. Partially because I find how rough your hands are compared to the rest of your body to be very pleasing, but mostly because I feel obligated.
Don’t take it the wrong way, I don’t feel obligated in the sense that I’m being forced. I just know that we humans come into and leave this world alone, and I know all that you’ve seen.
So I’ll hold your hand while we lay in bed at night, cross the road, and walk through the grocery store, readjusting my grip as our fingers start slipping.
And when I notice you start slipping and losing your grip on this world and all it has too offer, I’ll readjust whatever it is that need readjusting. I’ll hold on even tighter so you don’t have to.
Just don’t give up. I know it’s hard, and I know you know that we humans come into and leave this world alone. But when I hold your hand, I have the entire world at my fingertips.
I’ll readjust as needed.
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 2:48 PM UTC
The tell her that she has the world
at her fingertips;
she knows and understands and helps,
and loves and learns and gains
everything that she could
ever want.
They tell her that she can charm her way
through anything--
I mean, listen to her voice!
look at those eyes!
Tell me that they could not possibly
lure
you
in?
But what they do not know
is the strength of the string
that is looped around her fingers,
connecting the world to her hand,
letting it twist and twitch with every
flip of her wrist.
They do not know that the strings are
loosely-looped nylon,
slipping and falling and simply
requiring
so much work.
She cannot look away, and must always
readjust.
What they do not know
is how hard she works
to keep the world
at her fingertips.
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 11:42 AM UTC
why do teens do this ****
or i should say why are teens, teens?
the fact is that at this forsaken age there's
a whole bunch of chemical reactions in your brains(if any)
so hold on, its goin to be alright
just readjust those reactions
relax
sit back
let the moment pass
think about whats happening
think rationally
and you're good,
adios
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
Sometimes life never seems to follow a plan,
At the times you least expect it someone new comes in.
You thought you had it mapped, had figured it out,
Then this someone new starts to pull your attention something more,
And all you can do is scrap those old plans and throw them out,
Beginning again, one step at a time, one foot then the other down on the floor.
Time to readjust and replan just how things should go,
To see how life goes and see if she means anything,
To see if shes meant to be, if its meant to be more.
Lets roll with this just one step at a time,
And find out what you really mean to me.
Apr 24, 2012
Apr 24, 2012 at 2:41 AM UTC
What if we got lost tonight? Tell me, would you be glad to be with me?
Because there’s honestly nobody I’d rather be with than you.
It’s just something about you, baby girl, that’s got me wondering if I could know you a little deeper,
If I could be a little closer to you,
If I could be a little louder with you.
Tell me what your pretty eyes see when you look across the table at the image of confusion and chaos known as me. Tell me what you hear when my voice cracks in the morning as I laugh at something stupid.
I’m so numb right now that I can’t think of what I’d say to you, my lips trying not to curl as I notice you bite your lip. How is it that you can’t see you’re taunting me?
Your beauty so noticeable and your purity so undefined that you make children purr, crooning like kittens cuddled into blankets in your warm grasps.
My god, you’re so beautiful. Why am I falling for you? Soothing voice that sends chills through my spines as my body shakes off the dusted burdens of past loves, making room for only you as I readjust my nature to fit yours.
What is it about you, wonder girl? Two years older than me yet an eternity apart. You’re quiet yet speak volumes in your eyes. Sweet and sensitive nature and a Latina sashay about her, yet you see nothing but pure inexperience in her eyes.
Nothing but pure outcast.
We are two, yet we are similar. And I’m drawn to her because of it.
Senior seduction unintended yet ever so real it should be a shame, if only I could get her to even remotely look my way.
She is my phantom, another thought in my mind that might never be fulfilled, another dream at night never turned reality.
Talking in her face and making her laugh at corniness, kissing her lips and looking deep into those pretty dark brown pools, feeling her warmth as our hands connect and her head rests on my proud shoulders.
I will be forever haunted by the dream to feel that love.
To feel a reaction of two cold souls making heat from snow.
To feel the emotion so long cursed and so long denied.
To feel Her love.
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
There's sleep in your eyes with your lips on mine
Six bottles of beer and a checkout time
A pizza to share and a sheet of truth
Time stops that I wish that I could rewind
I close my eyes and feel our hands intertwined
I close my mind and see you by my side
Calling me beautiful every day and night
Hips pressed
Tongues stressed
You could break my heart any time
Will you continue to hum till I cry
And stare at you out of the corner of my eye
Before you kiss my tears goodbye
Going to bed without you feels like there's no end in sight
My heart can't take this
Please come back tonight
Distance is our biggest mistake
Why does home have to be so far away
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 4:54 AM UTC