"reinforcement" poems
What puts a smile on my face
is a smile on yours
When we sit and talk
and your problems you pour
I like you even more
when the same you do for me
When you say, "I understand,"
you're the friend of the century
I welcome your presence
because every moment counts
Time with you is like love
taken in large amounts
There's no such thing as too close
You never stray too far
What I really like about ya
is that you know who you are
You never spend your time
trying to convince others
that you are nice and kind
You just let them discover
We know where we stand
Outsiders need not apply
They see not what I do
when looking at your eyes
We connect on a level
different than most
You're my constant guest
I'm proud to be your host
You and me together
is so uncomparable;
what dreams are made of
or a love parable
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 5:26 PM UTC
Don't tell me you love me
I've heard it before
The words have no meaning
I need to have more
Don't tell me you need me
That might not be true
For words without substance
Mean less than they do
Actions speak louder than words
I know what you're saying
But, I haven't heard
You have to show more
In a physical way
You've got to show actions
If you want me to stay
If I hear "I'm sorry" again
I will show you the door dear
"I'm sorry" is empty, vacant, a veldt
It's not what I need, It's what you think I should hear
Show me some actions
Back up what you say
After all, words mean nothing
They're just the script for this play
Show me you love me
Don't just say "I do"
I want you to mean it
Show me something new
The words have no feeling
The emotion is gone
It's like you're reading the lyrics
To a music-less song
Actions speak louder than words
I can hear what you're saying
But, with no meaning it hurts
I need reinforcement, it's simple you see
Because Actions speak louder than words
So show me you love me
Don't tell me again
Your words have a hollow, dead sound
So show me with actions, that I am the one
If you want to keep me around
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
therapy and resistance
how is it that therapy becomes the excess of class war or the oppression thereof?
When the struggle of the individual is made to seem self induced when it is easily and clearly directly a result of the failures and complacence afforded by the majority of the group.
When in a therapeutic environment it is important to distinguish the opportunities of resistance from the experience of trauma.
there has always been individuals who establish groups that are in a realm of desperation.
Understanding how this process has unfolded institutionally is just as valid as treating the individual.
This gives the individual the choice and resources needed to heal.
The healing could look like resistance rather than assuming aspects of class war or oppressive culture to be normal.
Otherwise therapy is nothing but the means to normalize the process of oppression.
The traumatic state needs to be able to decipher its organic existence from that of organized oppression and its institutional cooperation.
the neglect of deciphering or distinguishing these differences causes individuals to make a competition out of trauma. This minimizes certain trauma of individuals and causes the group to have less of an opportunity to resist organized oppression of the institution.
Those that are in the realm of desperation or traumatic state are given no choice but to repress in order to continue being social or a member of the group.
in excess the hierarchies of gender, race and class are reinforced to an almost superhuman level.
To the desperate or traumatic state…
what needs reinforcement is that there are humans just like us who have resisted oppression and caused the normalcy of the group to be more inclusive and aware of the processes associated with organized oppression.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 7:30 PM UTC
You faint and fawn over pretty faces
A person who can buy you nice things
A sociopath with sic six pack abs
Who places passion over common sense
A perfect prince charming to make you swoon
Who will sweep you off your feet
Fly you to the moon and all those other
Outdated overrated simplistic ********
Fairytale dreams
And you wonder why the world *****
Why it’s getting worse
Because your desire is tied to your Gucci purse
Because if sociopaths are what you want
Then every other guy will strive to fit that bill
Will hollow himself out to live up to that deal
Cause you are the best reinforcement for bad behavior
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 5:06 PM UTC
objectification is very much a cul de sac,
it's a one way street...
to objectify is to
allow an animate object a
confirmation of an all-pervasive control...
objectification =
the inability of an object to become
a self-serving subject -
no hammer ever managed
to self-serve itself into a role of a screwdriver...
to be objectified is to have no
self-serving subject, i.e. a self;
how can a woman ever be "objectified"
when she subjects herself to both
the object (that's her body) and
the subject (that's her mind) -
or, objects to the object stated -
whereby by "objectification" there's
a reinforcement of being subject to the object...
her body, which reinforces her
subjectivity -
when man is prone to objectification,
as pronouncing his extended members,
a woman is prone to subjection -
irony on the ob- prefix,
wasn't it ever reverse infatuation?
sure, not all the subplots appear
in being "objectified" -
but at least being "objectified"
does not equate to being subject to a man's
will...
if you can't deal with
the "extremes": is being "objectified" as bad
as being subject to a niqab?!
besides the point,
i can't believe that one animate thing can
make another animate thing objectified -
in the purest sense of:
deeming an animate thing
inanimate to be: a thing observed
without a self-serving self-aware ******
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
unanimous
perfect
agreement
hands down
no argument
Countermelody
without the selfish back talk
point reinforcement
the Visionary
failing
falling
lost to
Deaf ears
not for
lack of
Volume
but out
of generic
disinterest
the Artist
flailing
calling
blind to
Deafinition
not for
lack of
Hunger
contrary
starving for
consummation
Hand in hand
The multitude
A sacred harp
The gemeni
One point by perspective
Souls Synchronized
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 11:26 AM UTC
Saying "thank you" and showing respect
are the easiest and most fundamental forms
of positive reinforcement.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 2:31 PM UTC
it is cold, and you're walking, and you can't see your feet
you're numb
not just your face and hands
but everything
detached
unable to distinguish from emotions now
and emotions then
you're walking down the road
and the stars are shining
headlights flying past, rocking your body
threatening to pull you under and break you,
crush you and your mind
and everything else
you're walking down the road, and the moon is low and dark and the sky is otherwise empty
lets say that your eyes are closed
but the drivers eyes are also closed
in the car behind you
and you, perched precariously
toe the white line between death and a dirt road
everyone, it seems, is waiting
for something unknowable
a feeling
a thought
a pat on the back, signalling that everything's okay
everything's allright
it's just fine
go back to sleep
ignore the questioning looks and just
relax
the man in the tan trenchcoat is looking for you
his brothers, his family
disapprove, but
why not
you're not a bad person
after all
you've done bad things, yeah
made bad decisions, yeah
but overall
what's so bad about sleeping in hotels when the back of your car
is not as comfortable as it looks
so you're desperate
and he's desperate
and you keep missing each other
the looks and idle touches
while comforting
scare you
you are not a person who feels
so you cannot feel the stubble whispering over your skin
and you did not swallow openly
and stare across the tables as his blue eyes watch you
he doesn't judge you
and for that
you love him
wait.
no.
you don't love him
because that would be wrong, and decades of reinforcement are telling you this
but honestly
if he just loved you back...
there's that word again
the lights over the Arby's are hovering 100 feet above the ground
and you're freezing and alive
and maybe you wish you were dead
but you're not
and that's what really matters
probably
you hope.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 4:15 PM UTC
A self-arranged route.
Ambitions led me forward.
Every step was to gain my adolescent aspirations.
I was confident.
When life was array,
The goals became my crutch,
My vitality,
The only reason to move, progress.
Idealistic and naive.
Blind and hopeful.
I meandered swiftly,
I gallivanted unsuspecting.
If I was to truly exist, I had to control my haste.
Oblivious to true adversity,
I needed to digest the lesson,
I needed to understand the complications.
Unexpectedly, the caveat stared at me.
I fought and clashed,
To only raise the white flag of surrender.
The battle was lost.
Who I was eluded.
I struggled through a sea of self-impediments.
I allowed myself to drown in the agony.
I did not have the armor to save me.
Through the fog, I heard songs that healed.
I held on to the words as they began to stitch me together.
I started to crawl,
I knew I would never be the same again.
I knew I had to start a crusade,
An onslaught against myself,
An onslaught against the organization.
I knew I would never be the same again.
As I raised armaments,
With the reinforcement in my ears,
I began to evolve.
The person I was became more substantial.
I had further tribulations ahead,
But I was more prepared, more capable.
I was humbled, yet proud.
The person I was became more unobstructed.
Through the misfortune,
My identity became solidified,
I reattained my dreams,
And I made efforts to get a steady hold.
I told myself I will not founder.
I told myself I could not relinquish.
For this was the war that would define me,
And I knew I must persevere.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
Captivating radiance streams from the glowing reinforcement
Satisfying the anchoring of the bluest moon
Appealing to celestial spheres with such delightful notions
Reflecting off the glass of a bottomless lagoon
Swirling kisses of lighted jubilance dance upon the waves
Sweetly admiring the gratifying view
Tasting all the glints of teardrops falling from his face
Transparent as the crystal fallen dew
Angelic faces with wings of gossamer appear upon the glow
Staring up wistfully at the bluest moon
Wondering if he cried because the sun had left his side
When she disappeared behind a sandy dune
An enthralling music filled the air from the wings of gossamer
Singing truth to the tears of the bluest moon
Words of heavenly delight filled his aching soul that night
Reassurance he found in their tune
The captivating radiance still streams from the glowing
Yet the bluest moon cries there no more
See the bluest hue disappear with all the glints of tears
As he watches for his sun from the shore
Aug 25, 2010
Aug 25, 2010 at 4:57 PM UTC
I have ways
To hold myself
I have ways
To keep my mind in eternal check
But sometimes
The wall breaks
Not water but thoughts
No, emotion
Emotion floods my actions
Then the dam is repaired
I am back in check
I hold myself
Cradling myself
Keeping myself safe
But not from you
The floods take me over
These dams
Protect me
From me
Only one thing
Can reinforce that wall
Her
Seeing her
Hearing her voice
****
Even reading a text from her
Just thinking about me and her
I grow calm
I just stop
The waters lower
And the process starts over
But
She has removed that
She took the reinforcement
She took my happiness
It’s not her fault though
I guess
BF
Stands for
Best friend
And nothing else
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 3:12 AM UTC
Born free,
what have you been branded to buy as truth?
You couldn't help but consume the prime conditioning,
angelic thing, they manipulated your blank, slated value with price
Impressionable infant, deficient heuristics anchored in tradition
were all you were given, they represented trend's definition of right
Blind to blinders set by frames,
you will never long for sky you've never seen
While you've been growing, who's been leading?
Who's been sowing, who's been reaping?
Now you are as you're told.
Now you are as you're sold.
You didn't see how your movements were determined: causal reinforcement and cogged belief systems
Hunters exploit the needs of the herd and they traded you meaning for all you were worth
Customerary compliance made you meek and the markets less violent
Your standardized schema had felt so secure, while their fashion pruned passion's significant core
Blind to blinders set by frames,
you cannot be free if you don't see your cage
While you've been growing, who's been sneaking?
Who's been sowing, who has been reaping?
Now you are as you're told.
Now you are as you're sold.
They'll come as salesman, promised happiness in their wares
They'll come as preachers, with taxing cross for you to bear
They'll come for your time, your money
They'll come for your life, and your sunny days
will be grey without that which you never knew you needed
No, you never ever needed
What have you been branded to buy as truth?
You won't choose to see your reflection on the discount shelf,
reduced to pelf, you let them establish the goods so you could be saved
from spending efficient economy, it's ironic that you're their battery
and though their floor is your slaved ceiling, you give your Self away
You won't see your light inside
if you're guided by other selfish minds!
How did you begin?
What have you been?
Who are you now?
Jul 5, 2011
Jul 5, 2011 at 7:27 PM UTC
i made me some writer friends,
mistook the mistake,
tore the gate,
ate a ghost,
************ a ******
slaughtered a village to gain your attention,
when you wouldn't look,
i painted myself black,
when you wouldn't look,
i told you i was a shepherd, you were sheep,
and you were going to get
eaten
by some gelatinous being
with very fine teeth.
all my writer friends,
they're all at my throat.
all my writer friends,
they sink claws, scream in my ears,
shove, shove,
tell me i need to love god above.
i made me some writer friends,
tricked the truth,
bent my back with compliments,
strung my neck with friendly kisses,
wrote all my writer friends a eulogy,
wrote a fuck-all note to my mom and dad,
but i didn't buy the right stamp,
smoked a bowl,
baked a cake,
called the goat an *******
poured a shot for a 15-year-old girl,
tickled the ivories until they stopped laughing at me,
discovered that all red-headed girls bite lips,
thanked danny elfman for scoring my bedroom scene,
continued working on an epic poem that rips ginsberg off.
all my writer friends,
tell me to stop distorting reality,
stop drinking,
stop dominoes of summer girls,
all my writer friends,
they are handing me bibles and pistols,
and i give them a nod,
a blanket,
a cup of coffee,
positive reinforcement,
and set myself on fire every night
to hear myself howl.
Oct 5, 2010
Oct 5, 2010 at 10:41 PM UTC
She stood in a field of green
Ripping the heads off daises—
What subtle reinforcement for the fight.
I have tried—
With all of my might,
To look beyond what greets my eyes,
Yet find myself with no choice
But to turn the other cheek.
She stood with her feet in the sand
Building towers only to knock them down—
What subtle reinforcement for the fight.
I have tried—
With all of my might,
But cannot stand to bare witness
To the love of destruction and reconstruction
With no other purpose than amusement.
She stood with a heart in her hands
Squeezing tightly, dispersing the remains—
What subtle reinforcement
For the fight.
I have tried—
With all of my might,
But cannot rid myself of the pain of her disdain.
She stood with a stone cold stare
Eyes locked on the horizon—
Emotionless, regretless.
What subtle reinforcement
For the fight.
I have tried—
With all my might,
But at the end of the day
I have learned one cannot
Make another do or say
What they deem to be correct.
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 10:35 PM UTC
Sunday newspapers continue to gather fragile New England snow on the curbside,
a stomping ground for purgatory, the home for these roller-coaster thoughts.
i'm not much for small talk.
my clothes are always inside out and i'm raging losing battles with my steel-toed tear ducts-
steel, as
grunting is a masculine expression,
and so i'll lift weights,
but gain no strength, just aches of all of the intimacy that I've never allowed myself to emit or absorb.
a soggy sponge,
a rotten oak stump,
fallen leaves-
a childhood meal coming back up over the fists and the heaves.
counter-intuition,
the alcohol binds the seams;
tear ducts are dams
and everyone needs a method of additional reinforcement.
numbness and empty-mindedness aside, I'm
still a make-shift dumpster lover,
hardwired, disassociated hinge-sucker.
too sensitive to open the window blinds or morning newspaper,
there is still no muscle definition, only
liver damage.
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 1:08 PM UTC
within Zieglerville, pennsylvania
genuine snow white hair
upon her noggin doth adorn,
perhaps she will divulge to me (in private)
after i croon (to said lass),
the melody of Jimmy Crack Corn
hmm...or, maybe this mission
perchance twill be doomed from the start,
and hence finding me forlorn
thenceforth, a backup contingency measure,
would warrant me to don my thinking cap,
and for extra ordinary reinforcement unfold
each Taj Mahal shaped ear flap
plus (for reinforced ironic steeliness),
aye also resort to buttress
any aural "stormy Dani yelling)
via walled in interlap,
which accouterment functions
as a double agent i.e. (or,
to be rather crude),
an audiological jockstrap
to vet or figuratively kneecap
any unwanted infiltrating leaping lap
ping "FAKE" distracting news
inducing madcap
mass media circus
driving this generic teetotaler
to pour himself a nightcap
essentially providing wig gull room
with very little margin of ear err, or overlap
against bigwigs to trumpet pap
pill low ma rendered free and clear
asper insidious (mama mia) paparazzi
charting imp pea ching fear
bringing out bare arms
most likely something internuclear
simply to discover visa vis authenticity
if cute employee
(sporting hair
white as the ****** snow),
which doth simmer and glare
blindingly, thus necessitating sunglasses
(I choose the Ray-Ban brand)
as recommended by cited
all time favorite pharmacist
who unwittingly (or simply because
my myopic eyes didst stare)
fixedly - drawn to such a darling (doll ling)
explaining any reason to go THERE
to CVS - that tis where.
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 5:58 PM UTC
Reinforcement
Defined my Merriam Webster as
"the act of strengthening or encouraging something"
In psychology, there is negative reinforcement
And there is positive reinforcement
Each act committed is intended to produce a certain result
Give a dog a bone
If they sit when you say "sit"
It's simple
But here I have a problem
My positive acts are reinforced with negative results
Straight A's--> Mental Breakdown
Straight A's and kindness toward my sister--> unacknowledged
Straight A's and a sweet disposition and kindness
Was supposed to result
In me getting
What I have been working for
For over a year
But once again
Life has smacked me in the face
Reinforced my positive acts
With negative results
Further producing
A girl cry
Profusely
A sea of tears
Bricks on my back
Needles in my feet
Hell
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC
Sometimes, I blame the stars
I ponder the possibility of their alignment being so twisted on the day I was born
Searching for an explanation
Sometimes, I blame my parents
Perhaps the concept of never being good enough, of which they poisoned my brain with, was not just a concept but in fact the truth all along
Sometimes, I blame my teachers
I consider the reinforcement of said concept being pushed down my throat during my years in education
Never good enough to succeed
Never good enough to be loved
Sometimes, I blame God
No, I’m not religious, but the desperation to know the unknown consumes my entire being until I am pushed towards yet another unknown
Sometimes, I blame society
For worshipping such unattainable standards of beauty that one forgets the true meaning of the word
What does it mean to be beautiful?
What does it mean to be loved?
I never blame myself.
Because I know that is where the answer lies and it terrifies me.
Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 1:12 AM UTC
so guys,dudes,dudets,peeps I've been through a lot in my life and i wanted to give some help/advice to people who are finding themselves either cutting or wanting to cut because honestly its sad to to see, i mean I've been there many times in my life and all i remember feeling was depressed but more than that i had lost faith. once you cut you realize that you want to find some kind of logic to cutting whether its loneliness or abuse but the whole time i was running away from my feelings. in life we all go through bad things that will make us sad, things that will mark and scar us emotionally but why add to that physically? i understand its create something or replace the mental pain but you know as a person i only look to see the best in people.happy or smiling, like when i eat cookies. seriously though people don't want to see those bad things that are happening to you because those things belong to you as a person, things that make you who you are. i remember the best thing for cutting is just having someone to talk to whether family or friends just having someone there as positive reinforcement. now I've met a lot of people who have said they cant stop and find it addictive but just think to yourself 'how long have i gone without cutting?' because whether its an hour,a day , a week it shows me you are strong enough to stop. i mean obviously not all at once but gradually day by day you'll stop. i'm not saying it will erase sadness completely i mean emotional scars will stay with us but to stop cutting allows happiness and positivity to come easier to you. if the pains in one place its easier to forget. just always remember the most important person in your life is you and its illogical to hurt yourself. i used to blame myself because i felt that i wasn't wanted by my own family or people but i realized "who cares? i'm me. like me or hate me. so i've hoped this helps if not oh well sorry, aha. if anyone needs support just message me, oh and tell me in the comments below if this helps and how long you've gone clean , and yeah peace
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 5:22 AM UTC
Being stupidly tired but being scared stupid to fall asleep.
Its so much more than falling.
Its tripping on the drugs that my sobriety has taken away from me.
Watching too many scary movies that give me the edge I think I need.
When I know the edge of the bed is more than enough for me.
My mattress is lost at sea and I'm the dammed captain.
Just let me ******* sleep.
When I went mental my mom called for reinforcement, her brother.
I called uncle but it didn't stop him.
I understand he wanted to help,
I understand he felt connected because both of our father's abandoned ship.
Just because you have four golden children doesn't mean you get to pick me to be your black sheep.
I won't let you fix me.
I'm not on board to sail the 7 seas with you and your perfect family.
You see, I am a ship wreck.
I'm good at not asking for help,
And my mattress is starting to sink.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 6:26 PM UTC
We began with little mutations,
Harmless, or more so beneficial,
We adapted to our love,
With no methods of dispersal,
People thought we couldn’t get any closer,
But your behaviors changed and we began to isolate,
We were stabilized so I hoped for fusion,
But realized that overtime not even reinforcement could’ve helped,
We had our Kingdom set up,
And later we fell into a “Family”,
But you classified me too general,
Now I don’t know where I belong,
My feelings for you were like the Cambrian,
Sadly enough they became a catastrophe,
You started selecting,
Seeing me as worthless,
But I knew I am not one to select,
You looked at me like you’ve studied Phylogenetics,
I was at the most top,
But ended up at the bottom,
You were not natural, but neither was I,
What did our selections favor?
And our relationship turned into cloud and dust,
Sadly it collapsed,
And you left me imprints of lies and hurt,
And words preserved inside me like a cast,
You ingested away my feelings,
I was the pili so attached to you,
But you were an endospore resisting all of me,
You no longer knew what feelings were,
And to you, I was an annual,
Got replaced so quickly,
But I shed tears where the oceans have formed,
And supported you like the roots of trees,
But you were a virus,
A pathogen,
A parasite,
And I was the host,
Blinded by your toxins,
And my cells swelled in favor of you,
You offered me and I gladly took,
I thought I was an obligate,
Surviving off of you,
But I was too mindless to see the real you,
And I was like the Archaea,
Survived the harshest paths for you,
But with a single expression you crushed my world,
And like a Zygomycota you’ve molded our love away,
And sadly enough I couldn’t evolve,
With pain feeling like spikes inside,
I am no longer the magistrate of love,
And love is my killer.
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 2:00 PM UTC
~for R~
At the supermarket,
I pull her coat over her face
her students can’t see us
buying chocolate chip cookies,
red bull, and *****
When I unhook her bra
on the first try.
I am showered with praise.
She explains that
this is positive
reinforcement, that this
will make me better in bed.
Sometimes she uses the words
"my kids." Here everything hurts.
I remember how we decided
to not have kids. Though
I had picked out names like
Emma. I like that name.
In the morning,
after taking all of her
red pen suggestions,
then sleeping folded
into each other.
I find five gold stars
on my nightstand.
Oct 6, 2010
Oct 6, 2010 at 4:32 AM UTC