"rid" poems
sometimes you're like homework
so confusing
and i just stare at you
absent-mindedly
hating you
yet you're important to me
it's so hard to finish you
and i lose inspiration every now and then
but when i get high as my grades
i come running back to you
i can't wait to graduate from school
get rid of this infatuation
we would be adults by then
and hopefully this mess will be sorted out
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 1:50 PM UTC
This is the easy time, there is nothing doing.
I have whirled the midwife's extractor,
I have my honey,
Six jars of it,
Six cat's eyes in the wine cellar,
Wintering in a dark without window
At the heart of the house
Next to the last tenant's rancid jam
and the bottles of empty glitters ----
Sir So-and-so's gin.
This is the room I have never been in
This is the room I could never breathe in.
The black bunched in there like a bat,
No light
But the torch and its faint
Chinese yellow on appalling objects ----
Black asininity. Decay.
Possession.
It is they who own me.
Neither cruel nor indifferent,
Only ignorant.
This is the time of hanging on for the bees--the bees
So slow I hardly know them,
Filing like soldiers
To the syrup tin
To make up for the honey I've taken.
Tate and Lyle keeps them going,
The refined snow.
It is Tate and Lyle they live on, instead of flowers.
They take it. The cold sets in.
Now they ball in a mass,
Black
Mind against all that white.
The smile of the snow is white.
It spreads itself out, a mile-long body of Meissen,
Into which, on warm days,
They can only carry their dead.
The bees are all women,
Maids and the long royal lady.
They have got rid of the men,
The blunt, clumsy stumblers, the boors.
Winter is for women ----
The woman, still at her knitting,
At the cradle of Spanis walnut,
Her body a bulb in the cold and too dumb to think.
Will the hive survive, will the gladiolas
Succeed in banking their fires
To enter another year?
What will they taste of, the Christmas roses?
The bees are flying. They taste the spring.
40.8k
Twas the night before
Hawaii islands on the radar
A monster opened the door
It shoulders a storied scar
Of the last time, it hit its mark
Rearing its ugly head, ahead of pace
As the eye looms '82 in the dark
Wrinkles on this eve sit sadly in boldface
Kauai sat once in unnatured infamy
It sunny shores hit once by the beast
Clouds of villains played in that symphony
With the next generation looking to feast
As the residence brace for the worst
Of the monster stepping on its paradise
With category four winds and cloudburst
The hope is that the monster plays nice
With the Aloha Spirit preserved with leis
In place of bold headlines of strung wrath
Hawaii can pray rays of light in the coming days
Willing the monster to take a different path
Logan Robertson
8/23/2018
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 7:04 AM UTC
I left my home in the name of education
I left my hometown in the name of higher education
I left my state in the name of graduation
I left my family in the name of aspiration
At times, I miss my childhood
Although, the fun & friends weren't the same in my adulthood
In order to get rid of their falsehood
I left them too, for my own good
I have traveled so far away from home
Now, When I let my thoughts to roam
All they bring back is sadness and pain
And then, I left my tears to drain
I lost myself in this whole journey of life
There were times when I often looked for a knife
Not just to **** me but to end the pain
I left everything and I'm waiting for a magical rain
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 6:59 AM UTC
Strange malaise,
One I can't place.
Struggling of late.
Discomforting state.
Persistent lethargy.
Sloth-like and heavy.
Burning internals.
Frequent intervals.
No temperature.
No warning lever.
Don't know what's wrong.
Been rather long.
Medicine trough
Can't rid me this cough.
Expulsion so violent,
Incessantly recurrent.
Over a fortnight
This ailment I fight.
Still hasn't eased.
Can't be appeased.
Development is seen.
Now spitting green.
Not just all
That joined this brawl.
It's just the coughing.
No injury I'm suffering,
I haven't bled...
But I see red...
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
there are two types of sadness
there’s the kind of sadness
we ignore and
try to get rid of it
by finding new things to do
or we find someone to talk to
by blatantly avoiding any type of conversation
about feeling sad
about having any feelings at all
and then there’s that kind of sadness
that takes over
and it consumes any activity we do
we know it’s there
and there’s no possible way to avoid it
so we feed it exactly what it wants
it craves the sad music
it craves the isolation
it craves the anxiousness
and the sadness comes storming in
it has no manners
here we are calling sadness, an “it”
when all it is
is a feeling
that most people
call home
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 2:00 PM UTC
What does quality time together mean
When everybody's glued to their smartphones
Mom and dad buy new gadgets
and forget each other... again.
Meals are left cold on the dining table
Nobody pays attention
to homecooked meals anymore
Food is rather thrown in the bin
or reheat again and again...
What is the value of mom's kitchen
when Domino's Pizza can be ordered via online?
The magicof smartphones...
Homes aren't cozy place for us anymore
Everybody enjoys secrecy... privacy...
Living far apart
but breathing under the same roof....
Dear daughter comes home in tears
Dinner date a sheer disaster, she said...
He checks his Whatsapp notifications
every now and then...and smiling
reading his messages..,
A total shame...
Technology is meant for convinience sake
Same time rapidly ruins our everyday life
What has happenened to real conversations?
Hiding behind the sophisticated gadgets
What good is that?
Get rid of of your latest Samsung
and show your true face...
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 5:29 PM UTC
Oh why am I still hurting
Isn't it past the hour of pain?
Hell is only temporary
Til He rids you of all shame!
I stepped into Your room
Try to relive Your relieving
To rid me of my gloom
Try to receive Your revealing
Jealous the jealous God
I seek restless for Your love
Mine eyes grow tired and weary
Jealous the jealous God
Jealous the jealous God
I drown helpless in Your flood
I thirst scarcely for Your mercy
Jealous the jealous God
Why is the world so empty
Yet weighs millions o' pounds?
Where lies pile up aplenty
To keep the lost from being found
Why is deception
Like form of education
Setting false foundations
Corrupting His creation
As lies disguise damnation
For a paper-clad salvation
Sending ill vibrations
To the youth of all the nations
I wonder how much am I missing, o God?
A wonder even the universe cannot contain
Translated and made compatible in a human's brain.
Soulless animals kiss the land
In honor of the One
Who was, who is and is to come
Who dares their doubt expand
In disbelief blot out the sun
Jealous the jealous God
Soulless animals indeed we have become
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 11:03 AM UTC
Ah! Another hero
Washed with bleach
Like the Son,
Who is only holy
When rinsed of his
Melanin.
I wear a white coat
That browns in sunlight -
It appears the moon and I
Will be good friends.
How deep must I scrub
To rid my pores of
The southeast Asian sun;
To wash my hair of Pacific salt?
(Even my mother painted herself
With a European brush).
How can I know myself
When denied the magma
In my blood?
It's of no fault of mine
That I've been stripped
Down to resemble a
Colonial caricature -
I've been taught
The victories
And learned
Medals are smelt
In white gold,
But mostly
I've been told
That mixtures separate
And I am mostly
Creme with a dash of coffee.
A shame!
Us beige babies must be
Assigned colors
As if palettes were for paintings
Not people -
My family tree has
Cane fields and apple orchards,
So don't act like
You're surprised
When I mention
White isn't the only
Color of my skin.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 9:37 PM UTC
I want to let out
a scream so loud
the Grand Canyon will shake
Mount Everest will crumble,
and the whole world will kneel down.
I want to scream so my voice
could finally be heard
after all this while
hiding behind curtains,
sleeping in the shadows,
travelling by rooftops
during the night.
I want to confess,
to profess,
to be honest.
I want to rid of my brain
and its logic
who says not to;
Dig 10 layers
of six feet of dirt
and bury it deep underground
lost and forgotten
like the planes and ships over the Bermuda Triangle.
I want to leave and forget,
cast away the fibers and threads
that hold on to my
morality and affection ,
but only you
can hold me down.
I want you to
hold me down;
Hidden between the gaps of pain
is my heart.
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 4:54 AM UTC
Dear Unity, be proud of the work you've done.
Working day and night, leaving complaints to none.
With your calm blue aura, full of peace.
People from sadness and separation, you release.
Dear Unity, extending the branches of your unifying tree,
Watching over like a flock of birds flying free.
Amalgamate the opposing forces of destruction and war,
Spare them from the unnecessary deaths and gore.
Dear Unity, reunite us with our long lost friends,
So there will be happiness and laughter as broken hearts mend.
Clear the miserable loneliness haunting around,
And stop at no cost until the cure is found.
Dear Unity, oh unity, our guardian angel in disguise,
Getting rid of the hatred, betrayal and the emotion; despise.
Dear Unity, you are all for one and one for all,
Thank you for being there every time we fall.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC
My heart is full
So much resides there
Memories wish to stop it from beating
Scraps & unforgiveness have tried to choke it out
My heart once ached from betrayal
To stone i thought it would turn
But through all of that
I cant seem to get rid of LOVE
LOVE still lives there
Reassuring me in life I can go on!!!!
As for me & my heart we're gonna be just fine!
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 1:16 PM UTC
i am sinking
further into the darkened depths that is my mind
my heart,
my lungs,
my mind,
collapse
i try shake this illness that
holds my existence captive,
a prisoner in my own mind
i long for the days where my breaths were sighs
of relief,
of happiness
i ache for the moments where
life was not a gloomy mess.
where the sun seeped in through the window
and everything felt okay
will i ever feel whole again?
will i ever rid of this disease?
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 2:07 PM UTC
This pink mass of mist
it glows when we touch
my waking has surrendered
it belongs to you
but the boulder
this crippling weight still sits
misty fog can't fly
can't float
never could
that rocky weight
it finally caught a cloud
and pinned it down
i didn't mean to show you
i never wanted you to see this
this amazingly heavy burden I carry
please don't let it catch your cloud
maybe I too often feel like a burden
only because I have lived as one
and this fear of being what I am
it adds ounces every day
maybe that's what I've been trying to get rid of
not my earthly weight
but the one that caught my cloud
Is that the one I've been trying to starve out?
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 11:27 PM UTC
I woke up this morning and I was tired.
what was I tired of....
I was tired of waste
hunger
greed
humiliation
global warming
ozone depletion
pollution
guns
deforestation
extinction
mining
disease
overpopulation
terrorism
selfishness
destruction
war
mining
green house gasses
religion
cruelty
I am so tired of being tired.
I am a planet that is tired,
it is time to rid myself...... of the human race.
I am the earth I am alive,
and the human race is a parasite.
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 10:13 PM UTC
When I look at you
You send shivers
No – sparks.
The air is charged with them
Dense.
I can feel just how much of it
is between us –
(always too much)
And I want more than anything
To cross it –
Wade through the ions
to you.
To only stop when my lips
Meet yours
(the only way I have found
to get rid of the air)
and you take my breath away.
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 11:09 AM UTC
How is it possible...
To hate yourself as much as I do?
To look down at yourself,
And break out in tears because of what you see.
And there's nothing you can do about it,
But try to change,
And be somebody you aren't.
Try to be the same person,
With a different shell,
And be perfect.
How can you hate yourself to the point you want to get rid of yourself,
Or to the point that you cut and bruise,
And starve.
How can you hate yourself as much as I do?
How does one be happy?
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 5:00 PM UTC
You know what?
I don't even care
I'm ******* wasted now
With all my usual flair
You might know
I could give a ****
I'm drinking down this bottle
To get rid of the sham
When I'm drunk
I can't think for ****
And I don't remember
Not a little bit
So ***** you
I'm getting wasted
And this sweet, sweet burn
Is just the *** I'm tasting
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 7:36 AM UTC
02:47 am. i am on the bench, alone, waiting...
the stranger sees me, sighs and asks me wheezing:
"you yearn for someone, too. don't you?"
i gasp. he passes by me and stops.
"what do i have to do to get rid of the yearning? i'm not ok..."
i say nothing, but in my eyes he could've read my answer, my cries and my yearn.
my yearns...
"i should go to sleep, right?"
i smile.
„but does it go away?”
„it certainly does not go away, but at some point you will get used to it and it's like a friend new in town that you take out for a walk.”, i answer him.
"you miss him, don't you?"
i gasp again. we look quietly at each other for a few seconds. then my phone rings.
"tell him that. you might be surprised. now i'll go, pick it up. good night!"
i managed to say: "take care of your yearns!" and i picked up the phone.
it was not him.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 9:08 PM UTC
You… you’ve got a lot going for you
You’re famous, you’re smart, and you’re powerful
but you are ugly.
You think we can’t see the evil under that gaudy, outdated sweater
but we can.
You think that fancy perfume you wear hides the scent of terror
but it doesn’t.
You think the makeup you put on daily covers the pure pain written on your face
but you are dead wrong
bipolar, you are hideous.
Sometimes, though, that’s easy to forget
when it feels like I can do anything
the world is my oyster. When I feel that ungodly fake happiness
that masquerades as wellness, when I’m with you
and I don’t want to leave.
That’s when you have me. Then you take the opportunity
to torment me.
The façade is gone, and it all comes rolling through the gates.
You scream a thousand voices into my head
you bind my body and I can feel your merciless crushing grasp
you convince me that everything is good, it’s not bad,
it’s bad, it’s not good,
this is good, that is bad, I need to say it over and over and over again
you take over, and I don’t stand a chance.
My peace of mind is gone, and my humanity is soon to follow
How did I let this happen to me? I’ll never know
but I’ve learned this:
You do take no for an answer
and I have a lot more control than I thought.
If I ask you to stay away, you’ll ask me why, and I’ll tell you
because I want to be better
and as long as I let you anywhere near me, I will always
be stuck here
on this nightmare of a rollercoaster.
So you accept that, thank God
thank you, bipolar, for setting me free,
at least once in a while.
I feel less alone without you because
I can love more fully, for longer, forever.
I can accept my imperfections rather
than suffer in the desire to be rid of them. to be rid of you.
I can be still and know
that it is ok.
I’m ok, you’re ok. and I intermittently have my **** together.
I’m sorry things are not working out between you and me,
bipolar disorder.
but I’m not sorry that without you,
my life is ******* beautiful.
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
He doesn't deserve this.
As the cuts on my wrists turn to scars,
his hands itch for the nearest blade;
as I lie in my bed, my pillow dry for the first time,
his pillow absorbs his tears and reminds him of his nightmares;
as I get 6 hours of sleep,
he lies awake afraid of the silence
6:00 am, he no longer needs an alarm clock.
***As I get better
he gets worse.***
My demon ****** the life out of me and moved on to him.
I wish to rid my demon off his back;
everyday I see my demon drain him;
like a hostage forced to watch it's torment,
hands bound,
gagged mouth,
mascara stained cheeks.
He doesn't deserve this.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
*i rid my mind
of darkness and depth
and a feeling of joy
is all i have left*
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC