"restrictive" poems
Little Barbie Doll,
oh, how you love to be played with!
So kind, you are,
to offer your services to all;
to not be sexist
or rude,
to not be selective
or specific.
Little Barbie Doll,
oh, how pretty you are!
So beautiful, you are,
with lashes so long;
to not be fake
or plastic,
to not be secretive
or allusive.
Little Barbie Doll,
oh, how active you are!
So mobile, you are,
you'll play anywhere;
to not be restrictive
or exclusive,
to not be immaculate,
or unblemished.
Little Barbie Doll,
oh, how I wish to be like you!
So perfect, you are,
with a reputation of a vamp;
to not be pure
or classic,
to be unclothed
and slatternly.
Little Barbie Doll,
oh, what a ***** you've become!
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 10:09 PM UTC
This is the mountain I'm climbing
Due to circumstantial timing
The triumphant peaks change over time
Just one of this mountain's many crimes
The rocks on this mountain are flawed
But the mountain is flawless
Nature enforces restrictive laws
So my life becomes lawless
Through this insanity
I can't find my humanity
It's gagged and bound
In the lost and found
On this lonely hill
Where I get my fill
It's an uphill battle
Getting above this mountain
My conscience rattles
My eyes pour like a fountain
When I see everything suddenly
Like halos hovering
Over my past
Lying dead in the grass
Sometimes I must traverse a log to go over a bog
Then I must do the inverse to go under the smog
There are countless endeavors
Through varying weather
That leave me very confused
And frantically panicked
This mountain provides a view
Of the entire planet
This mountain made of dust
I scale because I must
Stillness develops rust
When cliffs await us
I see dead pioneers on the ground
I see weary travelers all around
I see fellow climbers as brothers
Unless I see them as a lover
Then I want to go cave exploring
Before my grave ends the story
Things should get weird
If banality is to be feared
In order to make a mark
Even if it's in the dark
To be perfectly candid
This mountain is my canvas
I carve my face in it as I go up
But my face changes as I grow up
So I start swag jacking
The backpacking
Mirror macking
Confidence lacking
Mountain attacking
Climbers
So I can find a crevasse to fit into
This mountain is easy to give in to
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 12:20 AM UTC
The cyclist on his bike, fueled by sweat of curiosity,
Wondered
Wondered why it was that he could not fly
He thought therefore he became and on that bike of gold
He soared, the heavens a freeway for the blind
Finally seeing :
Earth is merely an elephant graveyard for the angels
The knowledge was a toxic pinball, corroding his insides as dust
He felt despair creeping like smog
(knowledge spoils)
Without thought or command his flesh imploded
Snapping like a boomerang at the end, the beginning
Of the universe.
And then he was a fiery star,
His bike of human mold cast down
(and sweetens)
Without restrictive ears he could comprehend
The slow mellotones of his fellow Fliers, Travellers, Stars
They hummed a warning to the man who was not
Of the hazards of thought
And the universe was silent again.
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 4:21 PM UTC
Sanded down,
handed down
heirlooms
for boardrooms.
Directors prospecting for
antique positions,
commission based,
cyanide laced contracts,
small print that annihilates,
dilating the pupils ,restrictive
and
pencils that scribble out names in
a ledger.
Forever indebted,
a debit individual.
All residual profit
reinvested,
future proofed
heirlooms.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
Once upon a time,
I dare asked for preference on
Characters of fantasy.
I took a tally poll without mere thought
But then the deeply stored epiphany came later.
For if we are judging creatures of imagination then we must
Be grading stereotypes.
We gave each only a few characteristics
And in turn labeled our minds restrictive.
In the world of zombies and unicorns we can create anything we want.
In the realm of fantasy,
Everything and anything exist.
The question is unanswerable.
Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 6:18 PM UTC
I believe in indulgence
In fact, I support indulgence
Tired?
Tired-sugar. Tired-coffee.Tired-nap.
Hungry?
Hungry-junk food. Hungry-big portions. Hungry-dessert.
I believe in indulgence
In pursuing the senses gifted to us
even before birth
Be grateful. Make use. Indulge.
I believe in time
In taking time, wasting time
In letting time fly
Clocks may be contained to the restrictive circle
but they never stop running that course
Be grateful. Take time. Indulge.
I believe in laughter
in smiles and passion and bliss and
not hiding who you are
And indulgence
I believe in indulgence
In fact, I support it
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 1:32 AM UTC
You didn’t ground me, I’m just hitting a “social speed bump”
The room we share together isn’t messy, it just has “restrictive passage”
You weren’t late coming into my life, you just had a “rescheduled arrival time”
When I lean down to kiss you it isn’t because I’m tall, I’m simply “vertically enhanced”
You aren’t shy, you’re just “conversationally selective”
As much as I say you nag me, you don’t. You’re just “verbally repetitive”
Yeah I need directions because I don’t get lost, I just “investigate alternate directions”
Yeah I’m falling for you, I think to be politically correct it’s “I love you"
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 9:01 PM UTC
To leave you is to love you,
isn't that the hard truth.
As I walk outside your doorway,
taking with me all my youth.
We will grow old someday,
and think of one another,
but I choose to walk away,
rather than to smother.
When we meet again,
on a day far from here,
will we be like two lovebirds,
holding one another dear.
Or will you leave and find a man,
who can satisfy your needs,
or will you follow the plan,
and help plant loves seeds.
Love is like a plant,
fighting for that sun,
but the sun can dry it out,
shooting it like a gun.
But if we can shield ourselves,
from the overbearing shots,
we may outgrow these restrictive pots,
and hopefully connect the dots.
Let our leaves touch so softly,
like your gentle hands,
I hope that our grasp will depict,
our growth across the lands,
as they reach past the soil which restricts,
and breaking through the vines which conflicts,
we will meet once again,
connected by this natural chain.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
I’m spending the Christmas holiday with Lisa and her family in NYC.
My parents are finishing 2021 in Africa, with “Doctors Without Borders.” “Step” (my step father) is a heart surgeon and my mom is an anesthesiologist, so they’re a traveling, self contained, double-dutch, operating theater. Yep, now that they’ve shuffled-off the dead weight of their children - they can finally have some FUN.
Here, in NYC we’re back in restrictive spaces as we face-down Omicron this holiday - but I still feel free. Our course work’s been dumb, but now we’ve escaped the strangling, slavery of tedious days - forget hours of reading, fact-sheets, writing essays, and solving chemistry equations - we’ve got 25 days of Christmas vacation!
Lisa’s having a sleepover tonight, friends Will and Karen are coming up (Lisa lives on the 50th floor, they live on the 46th) and we have every distraction known to man.
Tonight was supposed to be the building (220) Christmas party - a formal wear Christmas ball - with a live orchestra - but now (thanks Omicron) it’s an elevator party - we’ll go up to the 70th floor, pick up goodie bags and dinners then return yo-yo like, to Lisa’s.
We can escape our interior habitat to a large balcony where it’s windy and 34 degrees. The sky is a clear black, like an inverted cup of coffee and the stars look French. The city lights dazzle like a billion stars surrounding the black hole of Central Park.
Lisa’s dad is explaining to Karen (10), in some detail, how his shiny, deluxe, outdoor barbeque - with it’s lid open like a radar dish, can detect reindeer and send updates to his phone in real-time - but Karen looks skeptical.
I hope you all have a wonderful, safe, Christmas and that the reindeer find you wherever you are.
Dec 23, 2021
Dec 23, 2021 at 10:17 PM UTC
...cool, calm feeling,
of stone walls yielding,
to pressures gentle in my mind;
this allowing for,
such immoral lore,
which all my training calls a crime;
and should it prove at last,
a hard, restrictive cast,
for bones which never tore…
Then criminal, perhaps.
But careful thought as lapse?
Then what is this law for?
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
This year clothes me like an old coat
Worn at the elbows, with saggy shoulders
A smell that suggests more wears than washes,
***** tissues and receipts filling pockets
A tear in the lining from a drunken fall,
A tear of pain from an emotional fool
Wiped on a sleeve to preserve my masculinity.
I need to shed this year like a skin
As a spider, a lobster, a snake in the sun
To outgrow and move on from restrictive tissue,
Embrace the world as new again,
Fool myself on New Year’s Eve
I emerge like the butterfly from its cocoon
Reveal my flamboyant new wings,
To kid myself I am reborn.
Jul 4, 2019
Jul 4, 2019 at 3:00 PM UTC
Left to remain
Anything to quell fear
Seized opportunity
Sold soul to fear
Parallel vision
Past and present collide
Time recalled of time without fear
Haunting specter
Wild cry
Wild sound of devotion
Old quest uncovered from the dust
Old wilderness restoring to old glory
Firing from old expended
Reservoirs transferring water
Into coffee grinders, to dust
Chained in a crab *** at the bottom of the sea
Pelted with repeated blasts of particles of light
Until the matter is compressed into a singularity
Or breaches on the matter anyway besides
Unleashing rather than a sinkhole trap,
A flash flood over everything
Coating vision with a venereal sheen
Inundated in a fluid silk connective fabric bond
Until the matter reaches
Into pockets of relief
And miracles of situational
Restorative advance
Particulate regenerative
Relationship encounters
Debris from space accumulating
Hoping in some arcane sense
To be reformed together into beasts anew
While similarly fossils of
An ancient swarm of locusts
Are unearthed
They’re met with magnets
Positioned counter to the flow of electricity
This array is aligned to the magnetosphere
Of that old planet
Where I have lived before and left kinsmen behind to grow a colony of their own
But my own magnetism is calibrated today
To the wildly different magnetosphere of my latest home
To put it mildly, out of wild instinct, exiled from an old society
Of innocence/intelligence
A pretense over bell curve
Environment restrictive of
Fraternization ***********
On a day too perfect for itself
The stage-play left upon my table
All the actors meandering about
Chance encounters replaying dramas.
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 8:00 PM UTC
Occasionally one may feel fear's fast grip
But let us not be governed by its restrictive embrace
So the fear of death may not control our actions
May the fear of living never penetrate our minds,
And depart from whoever's in which it resides
Let the fear of our temporary state scare us not
Let the fear of the uncertainty of our tomorrow govern us not
Rather, let it's constant ******* at our heel motivate us
Motivate us to believe in the abilities we have,
And to learn new ones as well
Motivate us to reach heights inconceivable to those whose minds and hearts have not been freed
Heights which only a man freed may attain
A man freed of the darkness that inhabits everyone's soul
Freed of the fear of the unknowable nature of our futures that consumes us all
Embracing that fear so he can transcend death,
And be remembered beyond the many years he will grace this earth
Remembered for the heights he reached
Remembered for the people he chose to lead up to join him
Because he did not succumb to the malice of condescension
But was a Sherpa to the uninitiated
Giving these freed minds a new perspective
That they may soar to unimagined places
To which they will lead him and us in train
Perpetuating the chain of incredible events
Till we can finally reach our Elysian dreams
Started, not by a people of untold knowledge and wealth,
But by the one who decided to live without fear
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
A spider’s web,
So beautiful,
So intricate.
A work of art,
Worthy of admiration.
A spider’s web,
So evil,
So restrictive.
A prison,
Worthy of the innocent.
The spider itself,
Running on instinct,
Never realizing how much they torture their victims.
Yet, how enticing they make their webs,
Seduction, trust, desire.
Bugs don’t realize what they’re getting into
Before they get trapped.
Stuck, unable to move, forced into torture.
Abused physically, mentally, forced to love.
But we accept the love we think we deserve.
We deserve this pain, they love us.
Draining the life out of me,
They only do it because they love us.
They don’t mean it.
The bruises on my mind and on my body are love wounds.
My heart only beats for them,
I am loyal to my spider.
He abuses me because he loves me,
Because he doesn't know better.
Then the spider kills its prey,
The truest sign of love.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 2:30 PM UTC
This is for Nick and Mollie,
A couple that I adore.
I watch their romance budding,
like long forgotten lore.
A figure skater dancing,
a lover tickled to the floor.
I see her Tower chancing,
to love her even more.
Dry your eyes you silly girl,
there's no need here to cry.
Indecision you fear will hurt him,
but he's still your faithful guy.
I watch your love come bursting forth,
from life's restrictive cages.
Although it's newly published,
it's full of well worn pages.
You fit with one another,
like two peas from a pod.
I bless your lives together,
this I ask of God.
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 2:56 AM UTC
Where does the time go
Since it so rapidly slips away
Once it's gone, it's gone for good
Leaving me wishing it had stayed
The challenge is then to endure
It's ever-lasting fleet
So cherish every moment
& Exploit every opportunity
This proves to be more difficult
When dreams dissolve in thin air
It seems freedom is more restrictive
Than others are made aware
Therefore, it takes a tenacious person
Brave enough to tackle a wall
Just when it was suppose to shatter
The wall proved it refused to fall
Equally headstrong & tormented
You vowed to forever pursue
This obsession with my confinement
Was ultimately the end of me & you
Thus, when you declared forever
it appeared to be a lie
But I realize now more clearly than ever
That it is simply the end of time
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 8:34 PM UTC
Contains More Than Kernel Of Truthful
alienation, expulsion, ostracization
from body politick
if member of society resistant,
indifferent, adamant, et cetera
despite differentiation
(across the figurative board)
intolerance opposing ethos,
asper unspoken social graces extant
(albeit manifested amidst diverse
livingsocial variations) within
rubric of global civilizations primal,
oral, nonverbal, et cetera codas
automatically decreeing manual Kant
instilled from cradle
to grave impossible mission scant
acceptance toward recalcitrant
challenging precepts via rave and/or rant
thus when born into whatever culture,
steeped with historical paradigm
one can protest superficial nigh cities
til ivy blue in the face,
or try to concoct a feeble rhyme
but culture club richly identified, endowed,
brewed from heritage long time
ago until the cows come home to roost
hence creative pursuits one direction
can turn to swiftly tailor
if harried styled
with perceived restrictive parameters
and cuss like a sailor
with song and dance routine
(perhaps appearing on Dancing
With The Stars), or
choosing subterfuge viz
writing nefarious malware code, wheremailer
daemons spring to life, when computer code
following infinitely jesting illogic causing exhaler
(case in point - myself, hoot
ends tubby humorous) as yukon gauge
yet another Internet end user might experience
greater reason to rage
against the machine before
turning rogue gushing renegade, stage
jing anarchy against disparity
with equal pay, cuz a working wage
aint nuttin boot peanuts
so if strong willed, hook hairs
if you appear like a putz
just realize doggerel
of this pooch iz gaseous
boot utterly without guts
and hangs around the junkyard
with other nerdy mutts.
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 6:47 PM UTC
If you think Congress is out of step
With what the people desire today,
Let the candidates hear your voice;
It's time to send them on their way.
Vote!
If the past two years have been
A nightmare from which you want to awake,
And much of what you valued has been
Shot to hell, for goodness' sake,
Vote!
If honesty and integrity
Of a leader are important to you,
And you believe in checks and balances,
Then you know the right thing to do:
Vote!
If pre-existing conditions are
Important to you, and lawmakers dare
To weaken programs such as Social
Security and Medicare,
Vote!
If you care about equal access,
That citizens shouldn't have to fight
Restrictive laws preventing them
From voting, then please do what's right:
Vote!
If you think our leaders have been
Leading us down the rabbit hole,
And conflicts of interest and also major
Corruption have gotten out of control,
Vote!
If far-right extremism
Has no place in the White House, and when
The president praises autocrats
And scorns our loyal allies, then
Vote!
If you want an America
That has BOTH jobs and heart,
Where the leader's rhetoric
Doesn't tear the country apart,
Vote!
-by Bob B (10-29-18)
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
sometimes I throw pennies
in the space where you used
to fill my heart
I listen to its hollow echo
the wish is always the same
all this time and I still don't know
why I didn't let you love me
perhaps it was because
we were partners in creativity
and I am by nature a restrictive
girl always cutting things off
so that they don't ruin each other
I always do this as if to save myself
just in case I find something
better
(this is called fear)
because too many things have bled together
inside and outside
of me
like permanent watercolours on a tablecloth,
and I've learned to stop the painting
from being finished before
I ruin everything again
stains like this have been stuck
inside of me
ever since the moment I realized
you weren't coming back
to try and love me again
all this time and I still don't know
why I didn't let you love me
tonight I cast another penny
in the space where you used to fill my heart
now I know I was afraid of you
now I know that fear has been living inside of me
ever since the moment I realized
you weren't coming back
to try again
and that moment
is right
now.
the wish is always the same.
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 3:58 AM UTC
Certain moments leave us in the room of curiosity where the existing tends to take snail's pace. The clock abandons its race. It looks as if time took a nap. And in such gravity, our body reacts in the most oblivious of ways. It is almost analogous to a body in space. Involuntary and Indecisive in its movements. While we want to say a million things, our gut takes over by muting us. All the feelings that revolve around a hundred thousand thoughts come out in form of a salt water composition. Metaphorically, our eyes do the talk by reflecting a whole gush of diverse sentiments.
The strangest part enters the scene like a temporary protagonist when there comes a choice between happiness or sadness. If we choose the former, there is no way we can avoid the latter. It takes us a while to process the fact that these two emotions are each other's Ying and Yang. They never come alone.
All this befuddlement lands us into a directionless vehicle.
To satisfy oneself is the greatest accomplishment. In a state like this, we never forgo this belief. Our soul tries to console our mind repeatedly. It tries to salvage us from the impossible questions of our own. Such invisible restrictive force is met with either frustration or fascination. There is no chain that binds us, yet we feel grounded. We feel over-ready to imagine but our minds capture us in the box of boggle. Time has such manipulation on us that we're hypnotised to feel it's power. Not in aspects where it proves its presence but in aspects where it threatens us with its nothingness.
Such junctures of timelessness are highly uncertain in their permanency. They exist and then one moment cease to do so. And when they denounce, we come back to our lives of consciousness and mortality.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
we are given so much leniency, naturally, from life itself; it just gets broken down and separated into categories of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ and ‘ok’.
look, what is allowed is what is allowed.
we must allow the nature of freedom to take control and leave the rest alone. or suffer a life of quieted disappointment.
what is allowed is what is allowed.
(that statement does go both ways, of course; but, for the purpose of this conversation, let’s focus on the non-restrictive connotation for a bit)
the forces that are currently sitting atop the thrones control the flow of the day-to-day and do not implement the rules that follow the rules that were given to man, by Mother Nature . . . they try to follow Father Time as though he really even exists
“you do the crime, you do the time”
is what they all say . . .
but, who is it that taught them ‘right’ from ‘wrong’. and, who taught them. and, who taught them. and, who taught Adam and Eve. and who taught God. and who taught Zeus. and who taught . . . Mother Earth? and who taught . . . the Sun? and who taught the other dying stars? and, tell me,
who. taught. the dead ones?
did they not get proper instruction?
who. is in. control. here . . .
what is really allowed . . . ?
and who taught freedom
how to have
a moral code
in the first place . . .
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 8:47 PM UTC
This day began with a resolute vow:
No longer will Life's trials wrinkle my brow;
Woe and misfortune shall seek me in vain --
Though their shadows creep, steadfast I'll remain
Today is my day -- I'll hold my head high,
And with a broad smile greet each passerby;
I'll not waste my breath to voice a complaint,
But joyfully shed this cloak of constraint
Today is the day Fear's restrictive chain
Will dissolve like a snowball in the rain;
Guilt and regret shall assail me no more --
Today I learned to barricade the door!
Yes, this is the day my voice will be heard --
(Passion's smoldering ashes have been stirred!)
All my inhibitions will be set free --
On swift wings will they claim their liberty
From this day forward, who knows what awaits --
Might love rescue me from these dire straits?
(Hope is a beacon whose light comes and goes,
Ah, but today, how radiantly it glows)
Today is my day -- new paths I'll travel
As life's binding threads start to unravel;
I dare anyone to stand in my way!
Do you hear me world? Today is my day!
Sep 11, 2022
Sep 11, 2022 at 4:57 PM UTC
the beautiful muse
beauty beyond the restrictive nature of language
Woe is me, unable to describe such radiance. the problem of a wordsmith.
conclusions lead to new inspiration
but conclusion, leads forced end
to eternal broken wheels
The Beauty of language
stifled by despotic definitions
The Muse has my soul
she squeezes my *******
and won't let go until I write her songs
explosions of spastic action
muscles under the command
of a proverbial *****
life mundane,
like an addiction
music getting sweeter
and life around brings only apathy
all that matters
is the swaying hips of the muse
the heat of her groin
the atmospheric morphing of the air around her
whispering every word that is to be written
her hands over mine as I type
her breath on my cheek
she visited me not as a first
Witman,
Ginsburg,
Burroghs,
Kerouac,
from all she demanded verse and chapter
from me,
from them,
centuries old games.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 3:47 PM UTC
Choke it down though you know you don't want it
Cram the calories into the bottomless pit
With stress and starvation comes restrictive cravings
Ice cream for meals and depleted savings
Feel the pain in your stretched out belly
Scarfing down peanut butter and jelly
You're a pig and you know it
But you can't control it
Your clothes hug you close
As your stomach continues to bloat
Five, six, seven pounds up
When will it be enough
When will you realize you're a product of your own destruction
If you skip each meal tomorrow you can start reconstruction
The thin girls stare and laugh at your look
One more plate of pasta is all that it took
You're disgusting and vile
Put yourself here on trial
Tell yourself to succumb to the voices
Starting tomorrow make better choices
Starve yourself daily
You'll love yourself maybe
Nothing like the feeling of an empty stomach
Your own strung up puppet
Bones through skin is a beautiful thing
It's a reason to get up on the scale and sing
Dropping like boulders with each passing hour
Making up excuses like "I'm allergic to flour"
Whatever the condition
You know your mission
Start the cycle however vicious
Ignore the foods that are delicious
Indulge in water and a baby food diet
If they ask "who wants seconds?" stay quiet
Because soon you'll be pretty and fit your summer attire
You can't wait any longer now it's dire
The flavor will fade and you'll hate yourself more
How about skip the cake and you'll even the score
Till the number's brand new
And your bones pierce right through
Don't stop till you're nothing
Put your shoes on get running
Embrace the disorder
Create your own border
Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 12:14 AM UTC