"repulsion" poems
Devilish torment -- her body is my lament.
She crawls beneath the cracks and finds
The dark cellar, where my "worst" ferments.
She feeds it as it rots,
Just to make its wine more bitter . . .
Squeezed from the finest lies,
Designed to make an addict from a quitter.
Like a dark and tempting vacuum
That my soul cannot escape,
Attractive in its repulsion,
It's a part of me that loves the way it hates.
Masturbatory and selfish,
With a thirst that can't be quenched . . .
She finds the spots within me,
That make even deities flinch.
Their knees crack and crumble,
At its all-consuming "nothing". . .
I never knew my zero could be so wholly unbecoming.
She, or it, will surely be my undoing.
Yet, somehow, that keeps me moving.
So uncomfortably I'll admit . . .
It's the brutal nature of it all,
That I find so disturbingly soothing.
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 8:12 PM UTC
title: not god, but his clock, will gnaw at us: that we are mortal, and agitated by a libido to continue, as to why the immortals find us so cosmic, for the worth of not exacting a better joke prescribed to other genus archetypes... whether the atheists believe in a blind-watchmaker is beside the point... the actual conjuring of the ultimate engineered thing will undo us... only the gods could have engineered time... space? they can't fathom space, the gods could only engineer time, but they couldn't engineer space: the cliche, think outside the box? even the gods know nought concerning this; and if there is only one god... he has been lodged into a letter: θ - a 1 inside a 0; the being already confined... even gods have limits beyond the stressor of supposed immortality... they can't engineer space... all they can engineer, is a transcendence of time... only mortals, men, can engineer the concept of space... hence nations, hence borders, hence differences, hence the concept of magnetism and repulsion... if gods engineered time, then men engineered space... as now, and forever, will remain so, the quest for a cosmic joke / clue.
it won't be the blind-watchmaker
who eats us up,
the the clock itself -
it will devour us,
it will gnaw our flesh toward
the bone,
and then with out bones
play an instrument
to glorify its procession down
the aisles of our endeavours
to express civility...
was there any to begin with?
our temporal anxiety, being mortals,
equates itself
with the spatial anxiety of the immortals
(gods).
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 9:30 PM UTC
i was born all naturally
formed in a lax factory
im actually
a hack with ******* in my nose, practically,
every day, haphazardly
stumbling home, half asleep
i cant tell whats happening
vision begins blackening
im whack like kriss kross
crack like rick ross
major brown boy to houston
be like, "yes, we have liftoff"
dont like me when i'm ****** off
cause ***** i'm bruce banner
or maybe i'm bruce wayne
either way, i got mad manners
tearing down walls like berlin
preaching like its a sermon
potential begins to burgeon
i'll cut you up like a surgeon
killing in place of coercion
so you better lower the curtain
my head and my body are hurtin
so tell me how quick does the world spin?
i'm taddling on ya, you can call me a toddler
but the snitchin n' **** is somethin im never fond of
and i never grow up, cause i'm the neverland smuggler
peter pan turns into one of my best customers
i never grew into my head, im not cocky
never had the eye of the tiger, im not rocky
growing up i never got in fights or caused a lotta ****
but presently im screaming **** the world", i've got a bone to pick
i've gotta problem and i think its the probable cause
you hold me captive, keep me trapped in your facets of laws
looks of repulsion are what cause me to brandish my claws
constant compulsions reminiscent of prodigal flaws
i've gotta problem and i think its the probable cause
see im a goblin shark i'll sink in my nautical jaws
im not a joker im a jester with lesser facades
wrought with insomnia cause drugs are american gods
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 1:39 AM UTC
~~~
for Matt
~~~
*"My suspect credibility upon the rockets of birds,
the soft parts of people,
the oceans’ inevitable, cyclical weeping,*
Who has time for poetry has more time than they deserve"
Breaking Spring by Matt Hart
~~~
your words warp me,
the woven texture of your composition,
Matt,
dumbfounding the sweeping, weeping, instant recognition in
the soft parts' of
Nat,
where credibility
long past being suspected,
simply arrested for statutory dark room
torrented questioning
deserve poetry deserve blessing deserve curse
You Jacob, wrestle with this angel witch curveball!
'tis better to give or receive
this poetry admonishment?
for who knows where the time goes,
when the fix is in,
the addiction itch,
commands and commends,
*feed the poetry *****
write or die*
one fix, one poem,
carousel leads to another,
yet,
with only time to live,
pay the bills
for renting the space you Earth occupy,
no time for illegal
compulsive word blending
the interrogator demands
deserve poetry deserve blessing deserve curse?
*who is your supplier?
who is your time stealer?*
by the ocean, weeping,
you plead innocence,
just ill drivel, needy for expulsion,
deserving of repulsion,
swear repeatedly,
never again, imbibe, scribe
*but the ***** coos in my ear,
reaching beneath
the vulnerable soft tissued skin and cells:
write or die
I thieve your time,
'tis nothing you deserve,
I am Poetry,
just your mistress,
better served*
deserve poetry
deserve blessing
deserve curse
~~~
June 25, 2016
written by the ocean, weeping
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 1:25 PM UTC
I'm really sick.
Like ***** is going to come out of my mouth--
an eruption of **** from my ears is due.
I've laid too long dormant
and one by one the hot spots of my petty jealousy,
indignation, and
mistrust are at boiling points:
The Ring of Fire, they call it.
Yellowstone
I'm the ********* Yellowstone caldera.
The great rim,
****** up and blister scarred,
knock-kneed from falling out of bed in nightmares,
weird from the predisposition to volcanic shittiness
(not in a romantic way)
but none the less active,
or reactive.
This vexation is as old as grinding plates.
This repulsion is as old as the poisoning of Aristotle
My head is the Spartan scythe
because I'm a new sign in an old world.
I use old signs to poison this newly dug well between us
But not well can I keep this message
banner
******* billboard to myself.
So let me just wrap the code from ear to ear,
in plain text where you can see
the cypher: **** your red dress.
You see,
those blisters are the gravity between White Dwarves
pulling at skin, and earth, and ending thrown halfway across the universe.
I knew I'd seen you before,
there at the edge of the Oort Cloud
where we tell people we just met:
I stopped eating
I was hurt once
I was ugly too
and no one was really listening.
You and the rest of our red dresses meant too little.
But still then why do you whine over the hungry, and hurt, and ugly
and spit in my face for being there at the Edge,
and for loving the thrill in listlessness,
the passion in mundanity?
And that ******** about the shallowness of victims?
You didn’t learn a thing
traveling and trusting and falling out of beds.
Your drunken honesty is your sober lack of layers.
This isn’t a far reach of space,
your torn dress and cork heels won't work here.
Don’t bring that littleness here,
you're the only one not really listening now.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 12:25 AM UTC
The greatest of distances separated us,
but being abrasive at best,
our two rougher edges always sparked.
Even when friendly,
a side conversing of judgement
and not-quite-resentment
kept the parameters of conversation
shallow and narrow minded.
Deeper inference
caused interference
like static in my mind,
and short circuits were common
even in the most civil of discussions
common to other circles.
Round and round,
wishes to connect and
a secret bid for volatile collision
kept us chasing,
while a wary voice forced us to stay separated
like magnets pushing and pulling.
Never did two people
hate so many common things
and yet repulse each other so completely.
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
What is it we see and so often despise,
when we view ourselves using only the eyes,
that distorted image inside our head,
the old snakes skin that we’d like to shed,
dare we look from behind the frame,
beyond the self-loathing, repulsion and shame,
our vesture is woven from the beauty inside,
so take on its mantel and wear it with pride.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
My feelings of hate border on revulsion
Repulsion bordering on abhorrence,
Course through my veins
My blood is thick with ill will
Sociopathic thoughts fire my personal hatred
Hate is more powerful than love
Love hurts hate kills.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 11:19 AM UTC
The stars don’t define my life,
But the specs of mould on the ceiling,
I study them carefully at night,
Reading them in true light,
A sickly soul they’re revealing.
A wondering eye sees all,
And repulsion overwhelms it so
Much that one gives out a hopeless sigh.
The ceiling is too high,
To wipe Aries and Leo.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 7:33 AM UTC
Beware the sour duchess with her cobra tongue,
Come marionette, fall at her feet, the carnal cherry flower maid,
She hides in the devil's gap tooth,
In his pinstriped pockets full of rosary beads and candlewick,
She steals the heart-shaped cosmic superstition,
Demure with dulcet debauchery,
Forged in a grand dalliance of coquettish repulsion with his valiant renegades,
Vagrant of prayer and petrichor,
Buying fancy for the maudlin dolls, the ethereal actresses nursed to betray,
These childish ordeals rosy with youth,
Turn to lilac smitten executioner under the glass of a silver boulevard,
She writes me foolish want in this presence of gods and criminals,
Sell me your kisses and fingertips bruise my aura with your architecture,
Sleeping sound in your dominion the sheets are always warm.
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
My insides churned up in an inner turmoil
Thoughts jumbled and eyes grew moist
He looked, wide eyed full of hope at me
I stood there numb, wishing it was you with me.
My cheeks pale instead of rosy love
Scorning the man fate has written for me
Every little distance he inches,
I wish the distance was closing in between you and me.
His hands brushed against my knees
I struggle against this repulsion I feel for him
He's moving near, nearer; yet still far
He kissed my lips, but how do I remove the stains of your kiss on my heart?
Maybe it's in my mind, but he's using force
He senses I'm not with him in this act of love
His hands grow colder, he clutches tighter now
That moment he pulls me in, I let myself go.
I'm in this place I'm not supposed to be
*You're sitting there looking at a framed photo of me
Your face is pale, you're thinking about us
I kneel down in front of you, you hold me close
**Why didn't you try when there was still time?
What made you force me to say goodbye?
What made you choose your circumstances over me?
The society doesn't care, don't you see?**
You mumble sorry and cry along with me
It's too late, we both can see*
He's done with me, and I'm done with my daydream
He can sleep with my body, not with me
I'm still with you, when I'm with him
I'm still loving you, with him loving me.
Forever yours.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 1:15 AM UTC
That girl doesn't inspire me a bit, let me guilelessly confess,
the one that sits right there,diametrically opposite to my roving eyes,
in her cozy corner, shielded from the view of most others,
filling the seat exactly with her perfect curvaceousness,
she has false promises written all over her many allurements
for me (who else) bored to death, at this blighted moment,
triggered by scrolling account statements when all I love to see
are words, dainty pulchritudinous words, I can munch always.
In spite of my valiant efforts,to make do with what is at hand
and appreciate the poetic bit, her body language whispers,
as my existential compulsion demands, I couldn't move any further.
I do my best, try to caress her gently with my brooding eyes,
trying hard not to look duplicitous, but my eyes, curtained off
with boredom and drooping, easily lose focus, seeing this,
her eyes pop out,yet my arrows that lost verve hit sometimes!
Now, with enthusiasm renewed,she gives it a try,but repeatedly fail,
every shot she returns is a blank, such a cruel curse of cupid!
She is an impostor, tamed sheep cross dressed as a wanton she wolf,
the easy chemical repulsion, lectures to me on the alchemy of affinity,
but how can I complain, it's not a clause in her letter of appointment.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
swallowing her aching pride with every step she takes
trying to forget, although her lonely heart it breaks
her everlasting hatred for the man who left a void
in her world, forever shifting, unprepared to be destroyed
her eyes, once glistening jewels turned to a bleak mistrusting stare
their depths expose the scars left by a man who did not care.
remembering the pain, the fearsome look within his eyes
the man she thought she loved became the monster she despised
her worthlessness confirmed with every single blow he dealt
the hurt within her heart was numb, the physical she felt
a horrifying calamity, some days she wished to die
the violent mental thoughts left by a man who made her cry
haunted by his judgments, heartless words rang in her ears
whilst her soul was crushed she never let him see her tears
a sordid satisfaction from the misery he saw
from the woman who adored him as he broke her to the core
but then it reached a point where though her self-belief was wrecked
the words that once were daggers suddenly had no effect
no longer did his voice destroy the stillness in her mind
her time was not yet over; she could leave it all behind
a woman who had suffered for so long, without a voice
decided for herself she had the right to make a choice
the bruises that imprinted, purple wounds left on her skin
she’d escape the hell he’d made her, filled with violence and sin
her eyes cold windows to her heart, devoid of such emotion
a stranger to a reckless love of honest plain devotion
her body bears the evidence, her mind is crystal clear
forget about the hatred and keep close what you hold dear
while repulsion made her weary, she stood still and bit her tongue
no longer wept for what once was, the man who made her strong.
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 5:43 PM UTC
I’ve been anticipating our little rendez vous
Your fingers weaved through mine
I admit it I may have been looking forward to it
To drown in your intoxicating perfume
As I purge myself of
Compulsion
Seduction
Repulsion
Obstruction
Destruction
Oh stranger you know me well
Will you take me with you
to hell?
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
I'm all for love in case you haven't yet been told
and not for any amount of money can it be sold.
You may well ask what price this love would fetch
if traded on the open market by a hand to stretch?
The answer would be that on whatever given day
this love in my heart isn't for sale at all anyway.
No one, except God, could have access to the source
out of where love springs from and knows its course.
Attraction and repulsion are the main forces at play
and determine at what distance one's love will stay.
An awakened spirituality is based on universal love
that's blooming in the heart with a light from above.
We all have an urge to go beyond a certain limitation
that's been holding us down without any justification.
Past life impressions hidden in the subconscious mind
can play a significant role in life that's mainly to bind.
Pure love freely given can have a transforming effect
on all those around who imbibe its goodness to affect.
_________________________
Aug 24, 2023
Aug 24, 2023 at 6:09 PM UTC
Everyone is odium to empty space
Because,
It doesn't have anything to convoy!
Everyone is disgust about empty space
Because,
It doesn't have anything to perturb!
Everyone have repulsion to empty space
Because,
Everyone is dithering to talk with self!
But I am searching for that,
But
Incapable to mark out
The empty space
To talk with self!
Searching for empty space
For
Departing from everything
Searching for empty space
To
Verify my sin and accomplishment!
If you have any information
Please intimate me
With its boundary information and
Milestone of air, water, soil and life!
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 5:25 PM UTC
I cannot be seen with a pear.
Not in this environment.
Where opinions torment
And my affections lay dormant.
My view of you is tainted
What was once reasonable restraint
Is now repulsion and complaint.
I am sorry, dear friend.
But I cannot stand the sight of you.
I wince at the thought of what we used to do.
No more Frank. No more Dean
I want my memory wiped clean.
I cringed when I remember the times you touched me.
The smack of lips is the worst.
From my mouth profanities burst.
It is a shame to think that of my first.
It was pleasant at the time.
But I have to draw a line.
Now I bare the burden of these visions in my mind.
Your smell still lingers.
That stupid ring on your finger.
No wonder we were terrible swingers.
I can bare to text.
but I refuse to sit next to you.
I am sorry to say
Away from me you must stay.
I don't want to see you anyway.
I could never be seen with a pear.
Because I'm superficial and I care
About what people think.
No, it's not fair.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
i was only taught one way
walking a straight line
the dance felt right but only halfway
i never understood why
hiding in repulsion
at what i might be
i didn't want to walk in circles
i preferred my simple dance
ignoring my feelings came rather sudden
i didn't understand at all
trying different sorts of line dances
somehow didnt feel right
i found one right in the middle
didn't join until now
full of shame at how depraved i was
for me to want to be in a different dance
would all my friends be in question
would my parents look at me in withering disappointment
too late
i stepped in
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 2:02 AM UTC
it's so beautiful
********
it's a heartless ***** that luminates the dark sky as dreamers lie to themselves
romanticizing and influencing young everywhere to love dream and hope alike, when it stalks upon the sun.
despite all this,
the red on your white pants
makes humiliation sound a lot better than the repulsion of a custodian finding a used **** pad, soaked in red
clogging up the toilet.
dear.
it's a ****** that flaunts upon it's charms
while lingers in the blue sky staring up at the sun.
the red in the sun,
burns eyes so that the neurons in the optic nerve
die and somehow gives you a miraculous squint
but it's far more better than the repulsion of the custodian finding "lady" napkins clogging the toilet hole.
dear.
someone's always got to be a custodian don't they?
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 1:48 AM UTC
Opposites attract.
An object with a negative charge will attract an object with a positive charge–
Until they touch.
This collision transfers electrons from one object to the other–
Distributing appropriately.
The objects are now equally charged–
And repel each other.
Was that our problem?
We became too close? Collided too hard?
Does this explain why our spark fizzled out?
Why this attraction became repulsion?
Did my desire for intimacy lead to our demise?
Did I miscalculate the consequences of our contact?
Was our embrace the end?
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 12:02 AM UTC
I feel like my inability to tie shoes in Kindergarten was symbolic
Because that was the year I learned to cut strings
Rather than to knot them into something elegant
And now I wish I had been taught with all of the other children
Because if I had
Maybe I would have known
Better
Than to take the red string
That kept him tied to me
And cut it
If I had
Maybe instead
I would have known
How to tie us
Into
Something
Beautiful
But I didn't
And I couldn't
And now I'm completely
Consumed
In my repulsion
For having
Done it
All
Intentionally
But at the time
It seemed so rational
Because the string was cutting off my circulation
Because I felt trapped
And claustrophobic
And tied down
Because when I was five
I was too busy playing with balloons
Rather than learning how to tie my shoes
And because
When I let go of my balloon at that festival
After I had finished crying
And once it had disappeared behind the clouds
I concluded that strings are meant to be cut
Because when you hold onto them
You disable flight
(I wanted to fly)
But I was only five
And my theory didn't account for
anything that wasn't lighter than air
And I'm heavy hearted
Jun 9, 2012
Jun 9, 2012 at 12:33 PM UTC
you make me sick
to my stomach,
so much so
that I joke to my friends
that the very thought of you
makes me throw up a little
in my mouth
you make my world
go round
because it's constantly a chase
but that's okay because the love
I feel, keep my feet floating
off the ground
your smug, self absorbed
stench of a personality
turns me off
a repulsion
that even I have a hard time
putting it in to words
you have a million dollar
smile, baby
and eyes that penetrate my soul
my brain turns to mush around you
but I'm too stupefied to care
you're the 7 deadly sins
and you preach
such strong sermons
while you back stroke your way
past the buoys of your principles
so fake
you walk into the room and
my heart beats
an extra little ditty
just to know I can breath you in
while it tries to race itself
to an early grave
I see your face
and right through you
I look into your eyes
to a soul I can no longer find
my body does a 180
but my heart stays,
silly, silly heart
I dont want to see you
you're not worthy of my time
I don't want to not see you
you're the only reason
I even want time to exist
I don't want to hate you
you're the one I loved the most
but alas
things aren't always as they seem
so
good luck, you will need it
but I need no more
magicians
with awe inspiring disappearing acts
and tricks that cut me in half
but don't put me back together
again
you were once my dear friend
a confidant, my lover
a video game partner
or a tricky cribbage opponent
you were my favorite
and now you're just the bad taste
in my mouth
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 9:20 PM UTC
In disbelief I say to myself and into the mirror,
My whispers are quiet and contain,
Secretly believing your gaze is in sight of mine,
Capturing the muse of the melody of my heart and mind,
Trying to get the attention of the all ,Oh mighty one?
Could you hear the untapped screams I call out to you?
Hear me raw and chew off the fat,
Look what's in front of you,
You unreasonably problematic "IDIOT"
Repulsion is just another habit ,
Slap, Bite, and Kick,
My *** is still in place,
My mouth is where it left off,
Come at me and say it,
Coward of a mice,
Shall I say, *****
A very clever bread of dog I must say,
Applause for learning something new
Everyday.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 3:16 AM UTC
if the curves of my stomach offend
you
i suggest you get the
**** off
of
me
but when this rage comes you speak
so
sof
t
ly
and wonder why i look at you
like you burned
me but
you don't understand how predecessors of your gender have treated me.
kind words have never been spoken to me
soberly or
without weight behind them
like bartering in a dark corner bed while everyone else sleeps
where i stop being a woman, an entity, and become an unfeeling orifice whose name has suddenly become
baby
because a few kinds words were mumbled against the shell
of my ear
you don't understand
how hands have grabbed me in the dark
and how my own hands have grabbed
only out of desperation
to feel something
you don't understand how hard it is for you to touch me and
for me not to feel lightening hot repulsion
as i lay drunk, ready to sleep.
you don't understand how when people touch my hair
all i can feel are hands curling against my scalp
and the way cold-shaking hands curled around my dress
and the way fear has been etched into the lines of my brain like a map of the city i know so well
like that alley i can't walk down alone at night
or that part of lexington where men shout at me hungrily
or the way stranger's hands sometimes 'slip'
you will never understand the weight of my insecurity because no amount of sweetness you can pour onto me can replace the venom fed to me by the men before you
no matter how 'enough' i may be with you
you will never understand how 'enough' isn't tangible
how beautiful doesn't really feel like a compliment
and how much
i doubt you actually love me
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 12:40 PM UTC
you gave me love just to take it away
you gave me life so that i may die
and you gave me a heart just so i could be heartless
the life i have lived is not worth living
and it is so that i have died
but in death is rebirth
and in rebirth is death
every opposite has an attraction that governs its repulsion
and it is so i contradicted myself
when i had loved you were only my dark
because i thought inside you i could find a light
and even when i found it
i became lost in my conviction
devil and god
demon and angel
what is the difference but power
one to reign oblivion over life
one to comfort those in death
but in this world
can you tell who is who?
you gave me love just so i could feel it
you gave me life just to be numb
i loved all those that scorn me
as all those who scorn me are me
and i them
what is life beyond life
and what is death beyond death
as god so loved the devil
that he saw his own evil as good
and cast him unto himself
what is the devil but god
and what is the god but devil
these demons my guardian angels i feel found
why must i exist to exist i wish not to be
but that is why i am
we are made to go against and rebel against
but that is why we are made to subserve
Apr 28, 2021
Apr 28, 2021 at 8:33 PM UTC