"reoccurring" poems
I find comfort in the news
Be it typhoons or drones
I feel like a 100 year old Camus
For he was a miserable little raccoon
Or should I say Morrissey?
But the bipolar king is lost at sea!
I think of Sylvia Plath and her oven
Incinerated in a jar or in a coffin?
I will mention roses in a second
But first, wear your veil
May I eat your cheeks?
I’m your psychopath with style
We bathed in herbs together
The pale ******* that shone
A reoccurring dream of two moons
I believe in reincarnation
bosoms, as the lunar eyes of an owl
Stars, rain, coffee, cigarettes and music
Few clichés, I forgot about your roses
One day I’ll strike the balance
between rhymes and passion
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC
Written by Diana Garcia
My brain waves are like a storm
I wish i could sit in silence
I wish i wasnt so ******* torn
I tried to understand you but whats the use
it's my turn to talk but will you listen?
When you look at me what do you see
Your daughter, your sister or am I the punching bag that youve been missin'?
let me show you the scars you gave me
those wonderful gifts
that keep me up at night
the reoccurring hate
those angry tears.
All the times i went hungry
cause i refused to come home for years.
Over and over again i was told.
Theres nobody to blame other than myself.
YES! cause it is I who but my well being up on the shelf.
Ive checked out, to this i do admit.
I am numb and I simply exist.
How can I love, hate, or any of those words in the adjective list
when all I know is how to roll with the punches, how to roll with waves in the stormy ocean with all these god **** dusty emotions..
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 8:22 PM UTC
I remember as a child being overly excited for my birthday
every year I wouldn't be able to sleep just counting down the hours
When I did eventually fall asleep
I was quick to rise the next day
My mom who worked over nights
Would call me in the morning to send me blessings and good fortune
She was always the first person to say "happy birthday"
I've always loved my birthday
Because it was the one day I truly felt special
Felt wanted...
Now it's my birthday and I can't sleep
But not from excitement
But from reoccurring insomnia
My mom called at 12:02am
But she wasn't the first this year
a boy named "A"
Sent me a picture of his *****
And said it was my "gift"
(Isn't that sweet)
The Moment she said "happy birthday" I bust into tears
I'm glad she didn't hear me cause
I wouldn't know how to explain to her
How broken I feel
How I've thought of
death a million times
in the last hour..
This year I don't feel so special
I don't feel wanted
I feel drained
Fed up
tired
When the sun rises
I plan on buying enough drugs to numb my pain
Listen to the same song on reply
And hope that the day fades quickly
Happy Birthday to me.
B.oF
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 1:57 AM UTC
The cocktail dress split hope down the screen
Letting that reoccurring dream compel me
Into memories of you
The clink of my cup
Shattered sobriety with the pain of daybreak
The ice looks like crystal but only something that will disappear and overflow your glass is standing at attention
The bar stool cracked, empty and the faux leather ripped, and torn
Cougars and MILFs strut down the bar top
Scanning tonight’s bachelors
I sit behind, for my dress is long and flannel
Heavy, hot making me sweat and stink
I run faster than a cheetah in my mind
Tearing doors and bridges apart
Speeding towards the sunrise
Attempting for the *** of gold
The cocktail drips from the table on to the floor
A puddle I will eventually slip from
Hair in my face
My ankle sundress reaped with alcohol
I stand up, look around
Towel?
But all I see is you
Walking back slowly retreating to the door
Leaving me to deal and regret the decisions
I so poorly execute
May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 5:29 PM UTC
pulling you through the needle eye of time
over my shoulder the dawn,
and the city’s scrapers sky glass have turned pastel
the sun has had a great time
being an agitated red eye
infected and watering, pooling and flooding and
drowning
blinding
indifferent
life-giving
same-time
the people asleep and the memories stain
with spells
promises and prayers
all infinite, and finite
wary of sentient
and one
drowsy hive mind
reoccurring dreams- a drive thru memory
passing through with
intermittent lucidity
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC
you describe your eyes as hazel
but they are so much more
your eyes are not merely a colour;
a shade ; a hue
your eyes are the reflection
of a sunset upon the ocean
your eyes are my favourite flower
blossoming a season too soon
your eyes are the final firework
of a beautiful display
your eyes are the reoccurring dream
that i will just never forget
your eyes are the door to your soul
and the window to my hope
your eyes are so much more
than hazel
your eyes
are my everything
/evjs
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 5:26 PM UTC
This thought seems to be reoccurring.
Like that stranger you see in the halls everyday,
Yet you don't know their name
Or even a fragment of their story.
This thought has that exact feeling,
But contains a bit more of a sting when it passes
Through my fatigued head.
This thought is of the fairytales
All forged in my 3am mindset.
A mindset that often strikes me at times
Very distant from 3am.
These fairytales are perfect in every way.
But, as all things do they have a fatal flaw.
They will remain as fairytales.
Stuck in the depths of my mind that will remain
Locked up like the restricted section of a library.
Living a thousand lives just as the characters
In fantasy books do.
Straining to brake the chains and locks
That keep it restricted from the outside world.
Sadly, I am the only one trying to break these chains.
Others say they want to,
But fail to show up during this distant time
Of 3am.
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 11:23 PM UTC
*I tried to stop being depress,
and start making friends.
But then…
I build too many walls,
Just to hide my flaws
always fearing they’ll crumble.
And...
In the end I can’t stop my thoughts
when I’m alone, reoccurring questions it sought.
Burdens comes falling,
Rushing like the tide, washing
pushing away
the happy mask
I wore.*
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 4:47 AM UTC
*You describe your eyes as hazel
but they are so much more
Your eyes are not merely a colour;
a shade ; a hue
Your eyes are the reflection
of a sunset upon the ocean
Your eyes are my favourite flower
blossoming a season too soon
Your eyes are the final firework
of a beautiful display
Your eyes are the reoccurring dream
that I will just never forget
Your eyes are the door to your soul
and the window to my hope
Your eyes are so much more
than hazel
k.w*
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 11:57 PM UTC
This reoccurring nightmare overrules me deep in sleep
Won’t wake me from my slumber,
Imprisons me in this keep
I try to run, I try to scream.
This is my certainty
Stuck in this bad dream
There, all about me are these stone cold walls
Over-protecting, so suspicious, untrusting …
They guard my soul.
Asking why are they so **** tall.
Restricting my heart I’m bound.
Powerless, I trail this authority
What hope is there now?
I pray in this frigid nightmare for the strength that I won’t break
Eager to be released from this lonely place
I’ll lie right here. My sanity they can’t take.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
Today I found your toothbrush
Sitting in the same cup as mine
I stared at it
Remembering that you were
Here only a week ago
With a bad case of morning breath
And my toothpaste tucked in the corner
Of your smile.
Hesitantly waking up
I stared at it
Remembering that you were
Here only a week ago
My concept of time
Now revolving around the way
You touched me
Only a week ago
The way you loved me
Only a week ago
This toothbrush
This blue toothbrush I bought from the dollar store
Brushing along the tremors of my
Uneven breath threatened to
Defeat me
Threatened to put me back to sleep and
Try again tomorrow
Resolve the reoccurring bouts
Of sadness tomorrow.
But instead
I looked at it
I looked at your toothbrush with a certain familiarity
I looked at your toothbrush with a sincere smile
And remembered that
I was lucky enough to share my space
With someone
Only a week ago
I was lucky enough to fill my room with
Comfort and soft conversations
Only a week ago
I was lucky enough to
See you again
Lucky enough to touch you again
Lucky enough to bother you again
Only a week ago
And for the first time
For the very first time
I looked at everything I gained
Instead of my impending losses
My expired emptiness and hollow thoughts.
Because I realized
Only a week ago
The entire world unfolded itself in front of me
And gave me
Two toothbrushes.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 5:32 PM UTC
The leaves can’t control what trees they grow on.
Shoes don’t choose whose feet they will be covering.
We don’t choose who we fall for.
We can’t control that feeling we get when we glance into someone’s eyes and realize they will soon have a piece of our heart.
Our brains create emotions that are impossible to stunt or stop.
Rejection after rejection. The same people can still consume our minds, even if
Our common sense knows, it will never be an option.
At times, I want to look my feelings right in the face and say,
“Curse you” why do you allow me to feel this thing called love
When you know deep down this time will be just like all of the other times.
I can’t control the boys who look into the eyes of my friends and instantly the emotions of attraction consume their lives.
I can’t control the boys who are just a little off, and look at me with that feeling.
I can’t control myself falling for someone who looks into my friends soul and makes that connection.
Life is on constant repeat. The sun rises every morning. The seasons changing every few months, every year. Babies being born, and bodies being lowered into the ground.
People falling in love with complete strangers. People leaving other people behind.
It is a reoccurring event, which in my life will never end.
This constant change and betrayal has become so common I am afraid to say it is almost a scheduled event like the Saturday morning cartoons. Always on, always there, every Saturday morning. No matter what.
This change in my life, this constant repeat of life’s hardest moments is becoming so comfortable my heart aches with the thought of it all.
I can’t fathom the thought of every heartache coming from betrayal coming to a stop and having the security blanket of knowing who ever is in my life, and who matters the most will stay.
It is safe to say my heart is becoming an ***** of scar tissue. Clotting the cuts to keep me from bleeding out. This rejection, this betrayal, this feeling of being alone, it must stop soon. I’m not sure how much more I can take.
Little does my brain know, the feelings that I can’t control, the feelings that no one can control, those are the ones who make me bleed out more and more every passing hour.
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 6:12 PM UTC
to: her
from: me
i may not like you but i love him,
so i'm writing this to you to ask
that you be patient with him
and kind to him
and never take him for granted.
you don't love him like i do
and i know this because
you don't know how he likes
his coffee (black), or what his
favorite movie is (hotel rwanda) or
why he's afraid of airplanes (his
sister died on 9/11)
please do not get frustrated with
the fact that he can't take a compliment or
that he might forget your birthday or
that he will put his family before you
in a heartbeat.
please do not think that because
he doesn't ask where you are or
seem interested in going out or
spend every moment with you,
that he doesn't care about you.
he is an introverted mind with
a breathtaking soul and you will
be surprised by how quickly
he will make you forget the name
of any other boy that you have
ever been with.
the last thing that i think you
should know is that he has a
very fragile heart and you
cannot fix it no matter how hard
you try. so do not try to rid him
of his repressed memories and
reoccurring nightmares. promise
him you'll never leave
and do not break
the promise
like i did
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 10:09 PM UTC
****** window screens and
Spray-painted limousines
Broken fingernails
Collecting dust in water pails
Chewed mosquito bites,
Lurking men of the night
Procession of death,
Headaches and shortness of breath
Physical or mental abuse,
Which road will you choose?
Abstinence with a keyhole of trust,
Unknown of love, engulfed in lust
Short distance and reoccurring sunsets,
a sunrise of jealously paired with eternal fret
Frustration, confusion, nothing less,
Hope is lost as you fail that test
Life mirrors’ a repetitive game
No purpose just filled with hallow halls and shame
May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 5:50 PM UTC
(Went out today,
Charter boat
Trinidad Bay
Limited out on rock fish
in two hours
Watching Elks Head
from the ocean,
Grandpa)
Isadore
Called him Izzy
Chewing all day
on a fat cigar
Looked at lot like Jimmy Durante
His father stowed away on a ship
Wasn't going to be a Russian military conscript
Genocidal pogroms were coming
how he knew
we'll never know.
Ended up in Philadelphia town,
Scranton Pennsylvania
Moved along to Brooklyn
Stubby Izzy
fighting it out with the Irish immigrants
Dreaming of having a chicken farm
over there in New Jersey
Izzy met Grandma Sarah at the family clothing store
they fought it out for 70 years
The 60's book
Games People Play
They were the star attraction
The friction was the glue
that kept them together
The friction was the match
that lit their passion.
Grandpa Izzy
funniest man I ever met
Drove an old 48 Ford
selling housewares in the Southern route.
In the morning far too early
Sneaking into his room
tickling his feet to the sounds
of ohhs and hoho's
At five years old
Grandpa Izzy
took me fishing
on some New Jersey pond -
Afternoon sun with yellow colors
bringing all the foliage alive
Sun setting
fish rising
a hand held in mine
defined the peace
I seek
in reoccurring dreams through out a lifetime
A troubled teen
all suicidal
the drive in the 48 Ford
with Grandpa Izzy
running down the Malibu pier
catching the half day boat before it
disappeared
Grandpa Izzy
never lived far from a race track
I don't know about those losing days
but the secret he said
Was to never lose your sense of humor
Always be able to laugh at yourself
Izzy smoked those big old chewed cigars
lived until he was 94
Ended up not knowing
Who or where he was
Maybe we all
end up
that way too
But in my memory
there is sharp focus
he remains alive in me
If heaven is there
I know I'll find
Izzy and I
on that New Jersey pond,
a fishing line
and
peace inside.
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 12:57 PM UTC
I'm not saying
that this is how it is
But,
In all my years of school
the one thing I've been taught
Again
and
Again
...
is the American Revolutionary war
Which makes sense
since,
it was technically the official formation
of the country I currently live in
But really,
In 10th grade
I'm having deja-vu back
to fourth grade
when we even had a musical
about it
(I was student #2 by the way)
And now
we have the Broadway musical Alexander Hamilton
which,
I am TOTALLY a fan of
Despite
the numerous reoccurring themes
I've had stuck in my face
enough to remember
for the
rest
of
my
lifeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
...
Okaaay,
So, Revolutionary War:
...
...
...
AftertheFrenchandIndianwarBritianwasindebtsotheytriedtaxingthecollonieswhichthecolloniesweretotallyagainst.Miscommunication(allthewayacrossthesea)alongwithotherthingsincludingphrasessuchas"notaxationwithoutrepresentation"werethrownaround.EventuallyitjustblewupintotheactualwarwhichAmericaendedupwinningdespiteBritain'ssuperiorarmyandinthenAmericawasleftwithamessofstatestanddisagreeablefoundingfatherstocometoaconsensusandfiguresomethingout.
Okay, I don't know if you actually
got anything from that
but basically
it was a rushed (sort of) summaryish
of the American Revolutionary war
...
ish.
Well, I mean I've only learned
about it from one side
Anyway, by now I almost know the facts
we learn in school here
as well
as the back of my hand
...
which I don't know very well by the way
why do people even use that?
Anyway, it's not completely old material
that we're learning
because
now,
there's analyzing too
Just today we analyzed the differences
between
Federalists
and Anti-federalists
...
Okay,
you probably don't want the
nitty-gritty details
...
And that concludes my
(Strange)
tirade/(I can't really call it a tirade because it wasn't angry
so maybe narration?)
About history class
...
Hope this quirky
piece of writing
gave you a few smiles!
(Or if not confusion works too.)
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
i’m not another ****** card for your deck
and bothering and trying is just
another leap off a possible cliff except you have a blindfold around your eyes
you may not know this
but its cutting into your skin
and the drops in mood seem steeper each time i return to this rabbit hole, just before it gets too dark
is it really worth trying so hard on a continuous basis when your wings have been clipped ages ago
why do we even bother
then again why am i speaking on behalf of you?
why do i even bother
it’s always thunderstorms and rain with an occasional glimpse of sunshine that seems to be a welcoming party for the hurricane
to think that i manage to mask my emotions so well i’m nearly fooled into thinking the same frightens me a bit
take for granted to an extent i’ve become indifferent despite the fact it’s still behind my eyes
close to malfunctioning but i can’t get it out of my system
it’s like grasping sand in your palms and all you can do is observe as each grain slips from between your fingers - a great descent
it’s just the reoccurring feel of never being good enough i do suppose
whatever y’know
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
My mind consists of thunderstorms
it rains its pours all day
memories, thoughts, pictures of you
always washed away
happiness is short
stress and sadness stay
while the colors of the rainbow fade
i see plenty shades of grey
the day you left is when it started
it never leaves my mind
thunderstorms reoccurring
falling close behind
k.c
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 9:44 PM UTC
A girl bathes in the sunlight in a
Bright red bikini - the kind of red of some lipstick that
caught your attention at the mall.
**** the men passing her by, absorbing
every detail of her body.
Few have felt her touch, that
glorious touch. The touch I’ve grown to
hate with everything
I keep bottled up inside. She likes to play
jokes on a hopeful heart; stealing
kisses from the
lips of a boy, still learning to be a
Man- an idea my father
never taught me, not because of a lack of
opportunity, but because he never figured it out himself. She
played my mind like the piano keys she used to
quell the
reoccurring thoughts in her mind: those of
self-abuse and insecurities.
To feel wanted and loved, she
uses the attention of those staring eyes as she bathes in ultra
violet rays, questioning if the
water is a comfy kind of cold, much like the
X’s and O’s placed lovingly at the bottom of the note that ended
years of dedication, years of forgetting our uncertainties.
Zero degrees couldn’t be colder than that.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 12:47 PM UTC
Sometimes when I see what people have the capability of doing, I wonder if there is anything else besides blood and bones.
Sometimes when I like a boy. He always likes to twitter pate my friends hearts. Sometimes if my friend has no desire, the boys still come crawling, right past me.
This is not just a one time thing. This is a reoccurring event. kind of the like the bickering that goes on at my house during the weekends.
Sometimes it gets sad.
Sometimes when I open my heart and my love flies out like a bird leaving its cage for the first time, something goes wrong. My bird's wings maybe don't work. Maybe there was a killer just waiting to shoot down the newly free creature. Or maybe, my bird just can't handle the pressure and is crippled. Whatever it is like, and it is different in every situation, My heart is become such a raw sore. This is not because of one event. Let me be clear.
This is the build up of heartaches after letdowns and broken wishes.
Sometimes, on chilly nights like these. When I am cuddled up sipping hot coco and eating warm chocolate chip cookies, I just wonder. Why have I let my feelings control me for so long?
Why have I put myself through this? The only solution I can come up with is that all of these times that my feelings are torn apart by these creatures we call MEN, are just preparing me for my infinite love that I will have someday.
Sometimes I smile because I KNOW someday, I will be greatfull for the broken winged heart because I will have never had the chance to meet this future peice of my puzzle.
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 1:03 PM UTC
reoccurring fascism
boiling over in my head
led by not only the bureaucracy
to which we sacrifice our
god given rights to
but by the
oppressing society
that force feeds us
elated lies
funneling us into
specific life paths
but I did not ask
to be born into
a fascist society
ruled by
a democracy, which is
more of a
soft spoken dictatorship.
So excuse me if
I would rather
practice my own
beliefs, instead of
shoving money up
my *** crack
while i sit behind
a desk for the majority
of my life.
Not to mention
the 18+ years of
a mandatory education
that only taught
me how to pass
a state standarized test
put together by the same
******* idiots
who are too
brainwashed by the generations
before them to realize
that the state
is their new God-
but refuse to believe
that America,
the land of the free,
is a theocracy.
Instead of involving
myself in that obvious
grueling cycle
I think
I would rather
separate myself
from the state,
society,
and the false belief
of legal freedom
that was drilled
into all of our
heads
(I do not need a government
to tell me I am free,
just by them saying that
expresses that I am only free
merely because
they let me be.)
I am free
because I am human
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 9:21 AM UTC
Perhaps the worst part about making a decision is that you cannot anticipate how you're going to feel the next day.
And perhaps the worst way to feel is to feel remorse, to feel like you are mourning the death of sometbing you could have prevented.
This is an open apology to all of those people that do not know what to do anymore but have problems keep reoccurring in their lives.
This is an open apology to a boy who all I've ever done is hurt, because even though he's hurt me he's been here for me. I cannot say the same.
This is an open apology on behalf of my defence mechanism, I'm sorry my walls keep going up and I always want to end things with a bang. I'm sorry when I'm mad I ignore you. I'm not a perfect human being.
This is an open apology for the tears I have shed for you and in front of you. You shouldn't have to deal with that; no one should. I should've kept to myself and I didn't and I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for all the pain and confusion I've caused you. I'm sorry I ****** up. And I'm sorry that I can't control how I feel and I can't turn my heart off. Because it's times like these I really wish I could.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 9:02 AM UTC
A carnivorous beast lies pitted deep inside.
It devours its prey, gorging till it subsides.
Living in the heart of man, this beast doth reside.
It stalks upon carnal thoughts yet to betide.
A reincarnate knight seeks a kingdom of glory.
To vanquish the beast: his reoccurring story.
Oft' has the beast left the field torn and gory.
Yet, the knight strives for resplendent victory.
Fanfare pierces the soul; the champion sheathes his sword.
Returning to his dais, the knight returns as lord.
Sep 12, 2021
Sep 12, 2021 at 3:14 PM UTC