"regress" poems
I walk with my head down, I've outgrown this town,
I know my way around but it's boring now,
I'm snoring now, ignoring clowns that surround me, how
Do I break out, find some glory now,
See the globe, rewrite my story, develop some clout,
Enveloped by doubt...can't seem to figure it out,
Developed my sound, need to deliver a shout, no fuss, gotta row,
This **** bridge fell in the moat,
Forget a paddle,
I'm still building a boat,
Don't doubt though, I'll break out now, might be slow but expect a middle finger as I go,
Not gonna linger, stay sharp like iguana fingers,
Depressed and full of stress, my best is yet to come,
Inhibitions, lack of rest keep my ambitions undone,
My dreams have been oppressed, my soul remains repressed,
But instead of being stunted I'll stun, refuse to just regress
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
In pubs with bar flies.
Kronenburg, Becks, Carling, Stella Artois and Fosters,
Dancing in our blood,
Utterly inured; we are endured by all:
The solipsism most profound.
And when Johnnie, Jack and Jameson join,
The sentimental and the morbid
Are conjoined.
And ****
In the custody of beer halls,
The shadows that draw, fade,
And calls – e’en Death’s! -- are put on hold!
No time; instead, before the last, another pint.
For in this hallowed inn,
Drinking what’s in the glass,
And espousing the glow within,
Cares regress.
No woes,
Or loaded psyches,
For when the pressure builds,
The best: a jet of yellow bliss,
Relieves the pain,
On Armitage Shanks' porcelain.
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 6:50 PM UTC
I truly believe that one of the reasons that the US is despised and condemned world wide is because of such views on such characteristics as: honesty, integrity, independence(this includes not thinking in a collective mindset which we do as a culture, everything is apple or windows, pepsi or cola, republican or democrat, people need to think for themselves stop claiming and just be), persistence, determination, morale, empathy, tradition/heritage, learning, chivalry, discernment, and humility.
Instead of utilizing and perfecting these people of this nation and similar one's have become: prideful, dependent, drive-less, imprudent/unwise, insulting, ignorant(willfully so), objective, biased, crude, mediocre, and surface oriented.
In turn we have neglected the responsibilities we have of ourselves. This has resulted in physical, mental, and spiritual capacity regression on a mass scale. Most people have no idea what they are consuming in their daily dietary intake(I mean really know what all the ingredients are and what they do whether positive or negative). Most citizens have also become, literally and according to the United Nations Education Scientific and Cultural Organization, mentally incapable and completely inane as compared to even 15yrs ago. We have forgotten how to have a community to the point that neighbors don't know each other anymore. We have exchanged the truly important things in life like knowledge and wisdom for wealth and appearance. We have completely forgotten how to survive without the aid of water treatment, electricity, and useless objects. One of the worst of all things we have stopped doing, is being involved with our government; instead, we have put our trust in them without oversight, and this is why we have been losing our liberties. I believe, just like Benjamin Franklin stated, that any individual who sacrifices even one liberty for safety/security... deserves to have all of their liberties eradicated.
In conclusion, it is time to return our societies to ourselves. We need to relearn the truly important things in life and start living with ourselves, each other, and nature as we must to thrive. It is on us as a people to repair what generations before us, and our generations are doing; lest, I am afraid, our children and grandchildren will inherit the same ideals and expand upon them until we regress to the point that insolence, ignorance, and imprudence is the common norm... we have already begun to accept these. Open your eyes to the truth, at first it will be painful and difficult, but than you will be set free. WE THE PEOPLE ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR OUR FUTURES AND CHILDREN'S FUTURES.
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 12:18 AM UTC
That time.
It’s come ‘round again;
Reared its self to meet me.
Staring me down like a gazelle.
What I wouldn’t give for one more cup of tea,
One more glance to the left or right depending.
One more sinister smirk at another's expense to be wafted forward
With some sad regress or another in response.
Not now,
Not when it was getting all intense and fearless.
Don’t cut me off,
Give me another ounce of this.
Whatever this is.
I won’t ask questions,
I won’t move.
I’ll partake in silence.
Just give it to me for an evening more.
But there it is in front of me,
Bearing down on me,
Leaning into me,
Expectant.
Oct 13, 2010
Oct 13, 2010 at 1:17 PM UTC
Plenary veils...infinitely unveiling the bride--
her face will never be seen, ovoid porcelain,
angling candles...upon a UFO altar.
The relentless Hand that pinches and lifts her
veils...has seen her face, and kissed her lips
so many times--that her infinite unveiling...
is love's ****** regress...a deathless imagining
made real.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 9:16 PM UTC
What has become of us
Amidst the hustle and bustle of city life
When did evolution condone us to regress into a state
Of uncalculated caucus
As we meander our way through the rapids of life
Rapid
Is hardly a best-fit descriptor
For we are past the point of speed
We mill around like headless horses
Buzzing bees
Stinging roaches
Fallen leaves
Roaring lions
Try to lead
But fail
Like cottons fighting breeze
Is this all we are?
Is this what we were made for?
To quickly climb the climb
And await the graceless fall
Parachutes prepared for praise
But our pride prevents and prevails
Till the day I climb the ladder
Shall I not attempt to see
What the view at the top might be like
I fear it enthralls me
But then reality strikes like a maddening blaze
And suddenly I see
That I'm well on my way up the hill
As I swing from bridge to bridge
Is this the way to live?
Uncautious steps with kleptomaniac ease
As we take what we desire
From our capitalistic divider
Though we hate to be the same
Not at all do we differ
Are we not all blinded mice
With a tetra-human vice
Spiders apt at spinning lies
Banking life on Friday highs
All around me boring beasts
Lost to whims, to say the least
What I fear most is the day
I give in and join the race
Is the day I eat my heart out
Just to enjoy the highest gaze
Till then here trapped in the zoo
Enclosure encasing truth
Finding fault with every human till the day I conform too
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 8:12 AM UTC
Go choke on your delusional idea of love. No does not mean “change my mind” No does not mean liquor me up, get me good and drunk till I can no longer verbally reject you. My slurs of terror and anguish as I try to shove you off of me. Did it make you feel good? Did you feel like a real man- To take what was mine. Did it boost your ego? You had no right to sneak into my bedroom and steal my girlhood. I was 13. Chaos seeped into what was a serene life. The torturous and endless cycle continued for 3 god **** years. What man is so weak? So weak that he has to take what he feels he’s entitled to, from a little girl. I can never get back what you stole from me. They couldn’t find any evidence to prove the assault even happened, but the trauma can never be erased from my mind. The skin replaces itself every 7 to 15 years, so scientifically speaking your hand prints are still eminent on my skin. This flesh and bone is no longer mine. That home I took my first steps in, was no longer mine from the moment you creeped in. But you do not own me. I can still recall the first time I frantically searched for a sharp object in all the clutter, just trying to make myself distasteful to you. But you ignored the blood dripping from my thighs, dismissed the warning signs as if you were colorblind. Nothing could stop your calloused hands and feeble mind. Years later, your pressure still stands heavy on my heart. I labeled myself as damaged goods. But I am a ******* work of art. And I can’t undo what you did but I can use my voice to speak on the pain you’ve caused me. To raise awareness for those still suffering. You did not stunt my growth because I am in full bloom. I will not let you define a single part of me. I will grow as you regress. As you destruct everything you come in contact with. I will touch people and I will make jaws drop. I will be someone. Just watch me.
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
Life Coalesced
Envision the rest
Depressed or distressed
Worried less, I invest
May regress or finesse
Life's congruent mess
Mold your self, immaculate
Clear hate and evoke fate
Inspire, create and congratulate
Persevere when near,
Whilst you conquer fear
Happiness untamed
Dreams unattained
Mature and grow wise
In front of your eyes
Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC
flights of sparrows
familiar plays
regress
into subliminal
messages
What would Oedipus
say of universal
fatherhood
come says the snowfinch
cinnamon ibon familiar songs
where we play with maids and they
eat seeds
innocently
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 11:23 PM UTC
Why is it that so many people seem to just exist? They neither progress nor regress, and their place in the universal order seems completely neutral.
Some may even say they're obsolete.
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 12:14 AM UTC
You are like a child
who grows younger
& younger
every day,
smoothing over lines
with the sharp -cracks- of a smile,
& swaying
back & forth,
back & forth
like the swing
in an overgrown backyard,
like the child who sits
(lonely)
on that swing
& grows backwards,
(backwards)
you regress further
with every moment.
You are like the hair that grows
from the head of the child,
?wild?
& unruly
& never the same.
Like their small, chubby fingers,
you are clumsy,
s t u m b l i n g around a dark world
that offers you
no rest
from your actions,
(& yet)
unlike a small child
who is more clever,
quieter
& observing
each moment in life,
(learning,
growing
by leaps & b o u n d s , showing
that there is hope yet for them
in our adult world,)
you cannot seem to learn
from the mistakes you make.
Each error leads to another;
like a child,
you are running in a circle,
forever chasing a butterfly
that has lost its wings.
Your toys lie
scattered around you,
abandoned,
dusty,
-cracked-
& broken.
Like a child,
you grow tired
of the same old routine,
the people you see
& the games they make you play,
(day after day.)
Moment after moment
after unplanned moment
you grow younger
until one day
you will be an infant,
unspeaking.
& then
you will be
wailing & wishing
you could grow older
& make it all up to me.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 12:49 AM UTC
We met here as children,
happy times,
smiles shared between friends,
love at its prime.
Everyday we meet,
streamers,
*****
crayons held high,
in our small hands,
the three of us,
no time for judgement,
no time for worry,
far too many adventures to be had,
underneath this apricot tree.
The meetings grow infrequent,
we meet here as acquaintances,
we meet here as lovers,
knife for the carving of flesh and bark,
dreams of brighter days,
days obscured by a terrestrial haze,
we love,
we hate,
we grow,
we regress,
under this apricot tree.
Years pass,
the meetings are infrequent,
the successful no longer indulge,
there are only two of us left,
we meet as strangers under summer sky,
cursing God for death,
estrangement,
birth,
divorce,
broken,
realizations,
invention,
convention,
peace,
understanding what love is,
so clear now,
how did we get this far,
underneath this apricot tree?
They meet here as children,
they meet as friends,
in its truest sense,
running,
pushing,
playing,
the days get lighter,
the sun a little brighter,
grazing fresh skin,
sun-kissed lullabies,
the toys are different,
but the game is the same,
underneath this apricot tree.
We meet here as children,
laying underneath our tree,
nostalgia feels our lungs,
the feeling is familiar,
but the landscape is inverted,
we love,
we hate,
we grow,
we regress,
estrangement,
birth,
divorce,
broken,
realizations,
invention,
convention,
peace,
running,
pushing,
playing,
everyday we meet,
streamers,
*****
crayons held high,
in our small hands,
the three of us,
our children with us,
we meet here as one,
underneath this apricot tree.
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
As you lay next to me I can’t help but think of you.
You lay sleeping, and I close my eyes and envision you taking me.
To the place that only the weight of your body on mine can bring.
Your hands moving across mine, light as feathers
Your breath on my neck, slowly become more rapid.
The look of love in your eyes,
A look you couldn’t hide with all the will power of your being.
I want to spin with you, lose control, devour the moment.
I crave to make you writhe, twitch, grasp the sheets,
To arc your head back and gasp for air.
Have you lose all barriers and be truly free.
As you lay sleeping, I envision reckless motion
Feelings words can not personify.
Anytime I look in the mirror I see the reality of myself
A reality once only could manifest, yet now is actuality.
My own image brings up feelings of imperfection,
A figure that I am not comfortable with,
Self-esteem that I can not seem to find with out you.
You are my world, my sun, my universe.
My every thought orbits around you
My mind races at the thought of you
Despite all the time that has elapsed
I long for you, I beg of you to wake up
To say balderdash to rest, REM, and energy
And expel it all unto me.
I want you to take all that I am; consume me.
Fore when we connect I am completed
As you lay sleeping, you toss and turn
Growing ever closer too me
Were your eyes open I could tell you
Tell you to take me in any way imaginable.
Not out of primeval hormones,
But for a cluster of fireworks in a darkened sky.
A lustrous swaying of beings that few experience in a lifetime,
But with you it is constant, predictable in a joyous sense.
I am broken, though the patches I’ve created hold to me well,
My mind can not help but regress to old patterns and vices.
At times I wonder if the feeling is mutual
If when we intertwine my experience is the same as yours.
Are there fireworks, or just the "great value" ****** any girl could give you.
Your love is undeniable, however, your anatomy has a satisfaction guaranteed
Though still I wonder about the fireworks
When your inside me do you feel flesh or do you feel alive - the most alive you’ve ever felt.
Does your mind forget, just for that moment, that anything else in the world exists
Just for that moment, are their fireworks?
Because my world changes in those heated moments
It is the only time I feel beautiful.
I worry that because I have changed I can not satisfy you.
Your former mates eclipse me,
You’ve been with those who are beautiful by textbook standards.
You’ve been intertwined with those who I feel I do not compare.
I want to make you feel the way you make me feel
I don’t want you to just *** I want you to have an ******
To feel that explosion of love and satisfaction.
I want to know that the fireworks are not duds.
Because, I would do anything to make you feel beautiful.
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 5:47 AM UTC
This is not a straightforward illness.
This is a rollercoaster that takes you up and down at random,
and you’re left just hanging on for dear life.
There are days when you are trying so desperately to live and not be numb to the world around you,
but at the same time your mind is consumed with finding a permanent end to it all.
Things you used to love have no meaning anymore,
and nothing seems to quite give you that spark of joy when the fog settles in.
Sleep offers a temporary escape,
but nightmares keep you from finding any peace of mind.
This is a 24/7 illness, it does not take vacations
it waits until you start feeling normal enough to say it’s been a good day before it slams you down and takes you back a few steps.
One of the hardest parts is to regress when you were making progress, but that’s part of this journey - the ups and downs are endless, unpredictable and unstoppable.
My depression might not look like yours, we are all unique in our struggles.
My illness may have gotten the upper hand this time, but it will not win this war. I will keep fighting
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 2:33 PM UTC
Society's light is one of oppression,
It hides in the shadows the manipulation,
Of likes, favourites and ratings,
And of course, the TV stations,
That tell us how to live.
But there will be a time,
When someone opens up their mind,
And notices the signs,
That dictate our every step.
Why not today?
Let's smash up the light bulbs,
And pull out the fittings,
Let's switch them off at the mains.
Let's wreck up the power stations,
And cut all the wires,
So only darkness remains.
It's time to listen to the crying stars,
It's time to listen to the silent cars,
It's time to listen to the city at night.
Because the city at night is shouting:
*Louder!
Louder!*
And the rain on the pavement's calling:
*Stronger!
Stronger!*
And tribal rhythms,
Inspire the buildings,
To get up and walk.
And driving heartbeats,
Persuade the dark streets,
To rise up and talk.
*"It's time to stand up for what we believe in!
It's time to show the world how we're feeling!
Because the light has blinded them from our point of view!
From our vantage point beneath your feet,
We've observed the city that never sleeps,
And realised it needs to change and let the darkness through!"*
And all the onlookers and sympathisers,
Respond with a chant,
That shakes society's foundations to bring it down.
*We don't want to fit in!
We don't want to give in!
To peer pressure within
Every waking day!
We all want to regress!
To when we all had less!
When money hadn't quite messed
Up every word we say!*
As every light goes out,
Each with a bolder shout,
Those in charge watch in awe as the revolution wins.
The entire city unites,
To bring about the night,
A dusk to match the dawn of humanity's sins.
But in the morning the sunrise,
Brings the reform to its demise.
And light obscures the strings that control our minds.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 5:42 PM UTC
there is a long ways along the dark I travel.
There is a long fall down the path of gravel.
No thing,
dig use.
Feel you?
Regress.
What you got there?
Autumn.
Seasons shift and dig uprooted life.
The fall comes before the storm,
The haunting comes before the norm.
swing tick and swing tock
time shifts less.
Good guy.
your heart was born.
.
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 1:46 AM UTC
I would like to think of myself as an intellectual, but really I’m just a regurgitation of the adolescent caste system with academic anxiety and a learned fear. Well, I suppose that is a bit harsh. I used to be social ***** now I am a lowly intrapersonal custodian (let us never mind my inter-personal mess-managing, please?), though I am far from clean. __________ I have found myself flitting back to this page from time to time and mentally inserting here a terse, self-degrading statement that could re-catalyze my pitiful little verse, but never actually writing it. I hold it heavy in my head where it shall remain, apparently. Apparently I don’t feel the need to read my flaws, transgressions, and fallibilities back to me. Perhaps I haven’t yet articulated them, and they’re just skulking around—hunched apparitions haunting my subconscious. (Death smells like dog treats: perplexing, but you want to touch your tongue to it so long as no one will know). I must slay them all, eventually, or else perish. But! It is not the transgression itself that I fear—my behaviors are observable, even tangible, I can stare at them for hours. It is the dark implication of the transgression—the churning matter only detectable for its outline of illumination—that gives me trepidation. How will I move-on? How will I grow-here? Like an impossible little spur that nestles between resistant skin and unknowing fabric? Can I penetrate the protection? My security is maniacal; it is evidence of crazed disillusion. I am the raven clawing through infinite veneers; I am tangled…
Out ****** spot! Out, I say!
I must regress to becoming the white blanket.
I must know nothing but God.
A simple cloth.
A towelette.
Rags!
Rags!
Rags!
…
….
…God?
…Hello?
…Is it too late to become
…plain?
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 10:40 AM UTC
There's no sense in coincidence.
But I found the perfect book for you,
the same day I read your obituary in
the newspaper. These reading materials kept on a locked ward.
You kept buried under ground,
like a secret turmoil your family
could not bear with.
The one you also spoke of.
But that is irony.
Something I do believe in.
"Am I God?"
"I've killed people. I've killed you twice today. Are you God?"
You weren't afraid of your shadow.
But rather the people in the sky.
The peers walking, talking, doing
what they do best.
Dissect the innocent.
Disengage humanity.
Regress until broken,
until shattered,
until sand.
"Am I God?"
You aren't, a virgin's son.
Nietzsche was correct.
God is dead.
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 3:36 AM UTC
Science is governed by theorems and laws, but I think its more important to learn, live, and love from nature’s flaws. Ideal reactions exist on paper created by pencils, but really its nothing more than a flawed man’s stencil. Something unable to exist in freeform untempered by the creative storm and unblemished by the perfect mistakes that prove its not fake. Thats not of what I partake.
You make my world spin and keep my gravity down. It’s just the physics of our situation, is this our mind or the worlds creation? Einstein was the founder of relativity but I’m sure of our brevity. A whirlwind thats almost out of control, the dance of days that composes our souls. Linked rhythmically together no longer singularly apart joined at the heart never to depart and so we start. I’m not sure how this equation functions but its a positive conjunction. I want to linearly progress without regress never to suppress or obsess but to travel and caress but I digress with my interest to express.
I haven’t done the math but I’m almost positive one heart plus one heart equals one heart. Thats real arithmetic, a force surely kinetic. Attracted and reacted to form a singular product of an environment construct. You make my world spin and keep my gravity down. It’s just the physics of our situation.
Feb 16, 2011
Feb 16, 2011 at 10:19 PM UTC
Strength is the ability to protect yourself
Emotionally, physically, spiritually.
You are strong when you need no one
You are self-sufficient
The desire is there sans the need.
Acceptance of lacking in one area
Will allow you and behooves you to
Increase strength in another.
Because without strength you are vulnerable
To external forces.
Like newborn turtles as they make
The dangerous pilgrimage to water,
Picked off one by one,
By carnivorous, unforgiving animals:
People out to hurt others to falsely improve
Their own self-esteem.
Strength is the courage to challenge your fears
And make an about-face to run toward them
Not away.
This abrupt "180" seems incongruent to our
Beliefs, desires and thoughts
Because our subconscious mind proclaims
That to confront our apprehensions deems us
Weak.
And as naive beings, we listen wholeheartedly,
Believing that what we ignore does not exist
And we regress to an age when object impermanence
Unsettled our feelings of safety.
Without strength we cannot breathe, eat or think
And without fulfillment of these basic human needs
The question is, Do we really exist?
So we must define and develop our own strength
In order to thoroughly define and develop
Our sense of self.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
Need a medium to express
My internal regress
Mental capacity fading fast
No way to form thoughts of the past
Words, art, song
All quite wrong
No way to describe
What I keep inside
Now this will have to do
While I sit and stew
Apr 15, 2012
Apr 15, 2012 at 1:19 AM UTC
hope springs eternal
in the human breast.
though, we cope to journal
what we can't digest.
i digress. i confess,
i’m a mess yet i address
what i transgress and i reassess
my disposition. for instance,
i made a decision to make progress and what i set, i met.
yet i let myself regress to a great depression
in which i questioned what was predestined
so i searched for penance and found surrealism.
i heard sundry ideals, the sounds of theism.
i let my thoughts run free among the prisms
and tasted other worldly wisdom on my tongue.
© Matthew Harlovic
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 11:54 AM UTC
We rage
like hormones
like hyenas in heat
and ruin homes
(not on purpose, just on Fridays)
So grown up,
we're so grown up
with our mature parties
and relationship problems.
Look! I'm pregnant!
I'm oh so grown up!
We puke up jello shooters
and mama's meatloaf,
wipe the whithered corners of pale mouths,
smile
giggle
hazy glazy eyes
in smokey basements and tree houses.
Oh no,
I do not promote it
I only smoke it.
But what can we do?
I must be thin to be ****
drunk to be interesting,
naked to be loved.
We need the skin contact
because God knows we can't communicate by words,
either by tweets
or haphazard ******* in back seats.
We are so grown up
because we accept the filth,
the naughty,
the concepts that un-rad corporate burn outs can't comprehend.
Wisdom in destruction,
life in suicide.
So allow me to fill my nose with shaymen's powders,
so that I may regress
to the days that I was Daddy's ballerina,
and school yard games lacked dark ****** undertones.
May 9, 2012
May 9, 2012 at 9:51 PM UTC