"sedates" poems
she put my heart in a jar.
wait here until i return, she said.
i waited two forevers for her to open it, my heart was suffocating.
i was drowning in her memories, her eyes danced like fireflies in the moonlight. timeless passion. she is my flower child.
flawless. my heart is in a cage, solitude sedates me. i recall memories we never had or maybe it was visions of a future we will have?
i sit down with a notepad and admire your movement. i pen down my studies, and try to understand your complexity. your face glows, your waist flows. like the beautiful Victoria Falls, African queen.
i digress, you still have my heart in a jar. open a few holes, my heart is suffocating.
hair like Rapunzel, fine spun gold, only love knows our connection. time is but a teardrop in our moments.
on my notepad, is stories of what i think you could be, yet my imagination is far from your real being.
your shadow is unique. i can see it dancing under the stars, it tells its own stories. faded, i am.
im loving, your heart. keep moving, beauty. i love you. stop arguing with your mind, you’re beautiful. every man knows.
o, to be young and feel love’s keen sting.
beauty.
je t’aime. belle âme, mon coeur appartient à vous.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 12:24 PM UTC
#An Exegesis on the Humiliation of the Word
The world is ruled by darkness.
What appears as harmless is theater,
what pretends neutral is already bent.
The macrocosm corrodes;
and in the microcosm, its reflection gleams..
even in places meant to be sanctuaries of truth.
A poetry site,
born as refuge for broken voices,
becomes another stage of control.
Here too the phrase resounds:
neutralize the threat.
But neutralization is not annihilation.
It is paralysis.
It is psy-ops.
It is the removal of anxiety..
not a side-effect, but the aim itself.
Darkness builds its stage for this alone:
that the "angel of light"
may drown his own reckoning
beneath a world of deception-built self comfort,
so he need never feel
the truth he already knows.
Comfort is his curtain,
numbness his crown..
*the removal of his own anxiety;
his game.*
This is why the world is his theater--
*Darkness does not destroy at first..
it sedates, comforts, smothers.*
Hence..
The whole world is his fully gaslit stronghold,
..for now.
Fade back into the moment--
The young poet arrives,
bringing her unspoken pain,
her hope for words to heal.
Instead, her very wounds are seized as footholds.
Hearts. Reposts. Endless affirmation.
Not to strengthen her voice,
but to redirect it.
She is seduced into belonging,
and her trauma becomes currency.
Unresolved, her ache entwined with lust--
a sacrifice prepared for false altars.
The angel of light has done his work:
offering inclusion without transformation,
belonging without responsibility,
“light” without source.
The poet is neutralized.
Her searching silenced,
her voice absorbed into fog.
Those who carry this fog
cling to cowardice.
Unable to face the judgment within,
they align themselves to the herd;
envy-filled, they only know to mock.
Yet they replicate themselves,
so their refusal of Light
is never revealed--
*Perfectly exemplifying their "Great Example"
the most envy-based mocker of all.*
The microcosm mirrors the macrocosm.
What nations suffer,
individuals now endure--
Comfort without clarity.
Belonging without truth.
Safety without healing.
Yet the living Word endures.
Every attempt to humiliate it
only makes its fire burn clearer.
Carriers of darkness can swarm,
****** and smother..
but they cannot create.
The true word cannot be erased.
Unfiltered, unedited,
spoken from a reconciled temple,
it pierces fog.
It reveals.
It heals.
And so we speak..
not for ourselves alone,
but for those who come searching,
hoping that poetry
might still be a place
where pain can meet truth,
where silence breaks,
where Light is not withheld
but revealed.
#
Oct 3, 2025
Oct 3, 2025 at 10:59 PM UTC
why is it so hard to see you?
i crumble and i croak
hopeful words dance at the back of my throat
now i’m hopeless
now i’m in a mess
of you or her or him or me
it’s like moving to a new country
and getting the hang of their weird plastic currency
and why the **** is talking to you so hard?
i tumble and i frizzle
a glass smashed into shards
aggravation takes me over because
anxiety takes me over because
suppression takes me over because
i want ******* control over ******* everything
i want to ******* know what i’m ******* doing
what i’m ******* thinking
i tremble and i palpitate
the thirst never sedates
like a lion ******* blood or a needle weaving thread
so much to go around
too much to go around
i’m not sure how to go about
underwater is where i wish i was
underwater, everything is muted
everything is calmer and resentments are diluted
i long to feel less polluted
i long to feel less consumed by
that and this and all the ******* frolicking ****
it pulls and tears and rips in shears
still standing there
i am still standing there
why the **** am i still standing there
here
like a fish suffocating in air
like a statue stands with a smile it can’t wipe off
i sweat under smiles
i want to wipe it off
i want to turn it off
why won’t i just ******* take it off?
why is it so hard to know who you are?
seeing a glimpse of a break down is making me stick around for you
do you still want me to stick around for you?
i crush and i tamper
with anything i can get my hands all over
it really doesn’t matter
what or who or how hard i hit
cause nothing is good enough for this ******* *****
Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 12:45 AM UTC
I do not like the feeling of
examination,
of eyes burning on my back
as if you are a small match
and I am the bushfire
you wish to light...
I do not like the feeling of
obssessive observation,
I do not like privacy violation,
I do not like the feeling of claustrophobia,
I do not like claustrophobia because
it doesn't cease to exist by simply
removing ten people from one room.
I do not like claustrophobia because
sometimes your own mind is enough
to provoke a certain type
of wanderlust,
the kind where you run away
and leave everyone to rot and rust.
I do not like claustrophobia
because when I am alone,
it can never be enough alone,
it feels like the walls of my room
are breathing on my neck;
they're laughing at me,
declaring this poet insane,
it is the most crowded type of alone
until somebody, something
sedates my brain
and you call me "suggestive anxiety"
it's all in your head,
you're a game of chance
and I'm taking a guess;
you know my face but
you know nothing about my name.
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 11:29 AM UTC
Stroking
<6:56 Am>
*this petite gesture, glorious in effect,
impervious to aging, speaks volumes
of storied nuance and sun powerful to believers,
inherent messages much refined by its singularity
all that can be, will be, transporting the living,
calming effervescence by simplest of motion implanted,
its sensory powers long lingering, instantly, uncovers
the furtive child in us all, tho well we hide it
stroking my woman’s body when errant dreams,
disturb the early morning scheming, returning a placid,
to her steady breathing, exhaling the disturbing,
erasing the fearful that wanders inside our night boundaries
stroking the cheek, of my six year old granddaughter,
pulling back the hair locks that impede her vision,
the whirlwind passes, her body sedates, and her
totality merges into mine, born, borning a Godlike oneness
these fingers air the words that my chest pervade,
there is power galore in their communicative physicality,
but nothing more powerful than skin upon skin, in motion,
continuous, circular soothing the giver and the receiver equally*
<7:09 AM>
Jun 9, 2023
Jun 9, 2023 at 7:19 AM UTC
A quiet, calm, serene place,
contrast with my heart's pace.
Gently slipping into silence,
just like plush, soft and dense.
The smell of books my spirit sedates,
new or old, they are the gates
of my comfort castle, made of words,
where pages fly instead of birds.
Safe and warm, paper and pen,
I can write, this is my zen.
For paper puts up with a lot,
every line, curve and dot;
with each word I lay on the page,
I'm one step outside the cage;
Outside myself, this prison of mine,
the chaos spills into written line.
Away from problems, light and free,
peace at last, in the library.
Aug 28, 2020
Aug 28, 2020 at 12:11 PM UTC
just like the midnight lark I rise each midnightto listen in delight to the sound that I have grown to love.
for her words have grown on me intertwined inside my memories.
every night I need her voice to set the moment right.
just like the lark I am a servant of the sky bound toroam across my dreams.Her song intones me.
I am stronger than the leaves.
in a stiff summer breeze.
sweet harmony be my guide and lead me to the other side.my passage has been paid by the dreams before I’ve laid.but do not be affright, I dreamt of you tonight.
so sing me lullabies from you perch up in the skyand I’ll dream a dream so true, and I’ll only dream of you.that I’ll wake amidst the nightwondering why you’re not by my side.then I’ll heave a heavy sigh as my ears have been trained to find,your fervent song that forever keeps me hanging onto the last few precious moments, of a night that creeps along.so, sing me a song o’ black ruby of the night.draw your inspiration amongst the starlit night.for dreams do come true as dreamers often pray,but on an on another day. good bird I do praythat God will bless your wings, for without your holy sound my life would come unwound. o’ poet of the treesyour verse sedates my mind to a gentle ease.in mediation ‘tis true that all I hear is you.o’ poet of the skies and singer of lullabies,
I dream dreams so true of me and of you- . allow me to be frankof hiker of the leaves, and drifter of the trees,may you play for mea song so seldom sung to the silver sliver stuck above.I’ve fashioned a dream today of which I wish to playbut I have no melody to accompany my fantasy.so songbird of the night, sing me a song so rightand let your symphony surprise the stillness of the night. in these words I trust you’ll forever know my loveas strong as the rushing tide pulled from the silver disc above.black ruby of the night like a thief you stole my heart,ransom off my being but keep my soul intact, this is all I ask.first sound I fell in love with your evanescence glowthat radiates to me as roses attract bees.your bittersweet melody invigorates my being.wind comes to tear the leaves from ceiling treesbut the roots hold fast and the leaves survive and my soul has crossed the tide.to dream a dream so true as dreamers often liein bunks made of trees to slumber through the tide. in your song I am free to think,I am firm in my beliefs,I am stronger than the leaves.2005-
Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 9:41 AM UTC
You're a fire I know
I grab you and I burn
Six more minutes
And the sun sets
Across oceans rolling
I'm dreaming
Summer Clouds gather
And I'm thru
Evaporating
I say your name
On whispering lips
Tremble the shivers
That build this tension
Calamity we've constructed
With our barb wired hands
Summer cloud comes in
And I'm thru
Evaporating
*{There's something wrong
In the grin
Of your cadaver smile
It peels me
Pulls my skin back
And tastes me
It sedates me}*
Former friends
For formal ends
The stars go black
The last breath of a snow angel
Maybe we should sleep
But summer clouds come
And I'm thru
Evaporating
With summer clouds calling
I'm thru
Evaporating
Jun 9, 2012
Jun 9, 2012 at 5:21 PM UTC
Sitting next to you
Feels like driving
On an easy path
Sitting in your shadow
Soothes my wounds
As an ******
Sedates life’s pains
I sit beside you
As you gather my
Responsibilities into
Your basket
And carry them for awhile
You help me understand
When to set blame aside
When to carry duty uphill
And when to let you grab
One of my hands
And pull me to your level
I sense a danger here
A bait as wispy and enchanting
As a fly fisherman's lure
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 11:25 AM UTC
I can't stop thinking about you still
Yet, i know missing you is not the right thing to do
Not that i can help it, each time a thousand thoughts of you flock my consenting mind
But, my well nurtured hurt has become the antidote,
It sedates the uprising of memorable moments we once shared.
Now, each time I think of our happy moments,
Sadness thereby follows, and then, pain...
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 8:03 PM UTC
There’s aesthetic anaesthetic
in the beauty of your form
and it
sedates the silent screaming
of my grief.
like chloroform.
and then,
your eyes are dampened charcoal,
large and lovely
set apart
a doll, they roll,
your eyelids flutter,
set the beating of my heart.
Below
your boyish nose is Elvin
(perfect, small and straight and neat)
and I could
listen on for hours
watch its end move as you speak.
I can’t
articulate the angles
that compel me in your face
but I can’t stop myself from staring
(there-in everything is laced)
but still I know
we’re not well suited,
though our needs are well aligned
because they’re
all so insurmountable
also...
you can be unkind.
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 9:58 PM UTC
Mr Milgram keeps the social animals at bay.
Experiments on them, sedates then lets them play.
For he knows all too well how violent they can get.
And he knows that he is their council, father and vet.
So he takes his job seriously- well you would have to.
Imagine all the ravaging these savage animals could do-
digging around in side each other for love, lies and food.
They would surely turn on him too-
At least thats how its understood.
So with his big sharp needle- he injects each ones neck.
Dressed Immaculately in a suit, they don’t refute but show respect.
You see by now they have all became so heavily addicted.
That they long for his visits, without him they are afflicted.
The need for authority, to obey, is so inherent.
These fatherless children are faithless and need a parent.
But not the kind that loves and shows warm affection.
But the kind that would ****
Even themselves for their protection.
So in their toxic psychosis they wander oh so blissfully.
Each moment is a marvel, their reality a mystery.
But Mr Milgram looks uneasy, his brow always furrowed.
Maybe its because he knows how deep the thought has burrowed.
For he see’s the world exactly as it is.
They see a construction, a realised bliss.
Imprisoned he wanders in but seven shades of light.
And when darkness comes, he understands that it is the night.
He knows it’s not long till he can take away their being.
Turn them into brute instruments, blindly led to their freeing.
To be relinquished of all guilt, but still able to operate.
To carry out without question, any demands he might make.
For their are millions of nails that he needs them to hammer.
And hammer doesn’t question,
It just agrees with the consensus of the clamour.
Then Mr Milgram can return to his simple carpentry ways.
Knowing that the social animals have been safely led astray.
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 6:21 AM UTC
Time is a cool liquid that flows and resonates through my being
And as I sit here slaving away day by day on man made devices based on prehistoric theories, I feel the angels of death ripping my time out from underneath my feet.
I maybe young but I continue to fret about the bullets that ring in my head and the psychotics that numb my brain into pliable putty.
They try to mold me to fit the social standard and I continue to fight back with the will of a bull and the guilt of a sinner.
I can not continue to castrate my inner self even though it is that of the flames of hell which will never accept me.
I can not continue to wish for the pure white of the wings angels and the dazzling halos of the pure, neither, because I am stuck in my impending cycle of depression and gloom.
Miss Mary Jane only makes me loopy and ***** me up immensely while the nicotine never sedates the destructive curiosity.
I am a slave to my mind and to the pain that bleeds from the bruises and cuts.
I am a slave to the human heart which controls every reenactment of the mistakes my mother bled to hide me from
And for this I cry and plead the words
"I'm sorry!"
But this is never enough.
I will never be enough.
For I am a hopeless little teenage freak that will never learn.
And for this I am truly sorry.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 11:27 AM UTC
“Antipathy of Abandonment”
I have been desolate like the dock at dawn.
You shall never know of my torment
The ghostly convolution in my head,
I will never be as well as another,
Now more distant than ever,
Neither ship nor upsurge can I ever survive,
Again more distant than ever,
Further than ever before have I been,
She has shown no regret for the infliction,
In the melancholy that’s ****** upon me,
As the black cruor drips within my heart,
Crevasse of detritus as I tried to swim to shore,
As the sea mingles its ornery abhor,
With each passing surge I await you,
In calm rivers hope to find thee before me,
Without in the end your being,
Of you coming suddenly would be exhilarating?
To know my life wildfire of roseate days,
Swishing brine of the ocean sedates to sand,
As my breath is unobtrusive to antipathy of abandonment,
By AG 03/2018 CR
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
I write to praise my fear
I write to numb my wounds
I write to hide my shame
I write to fill my voids
I write to console my heart
Which has a cavity
I feel every night
Before sleep sedates me
I write like a fighter
I fight like a writer
Words are vines
And my hands
My winepress
Makes the best wine
That levitates me
And makes you feel fine.
You're not alone!
Through pain and misery.
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 6:43 AM UTC
I knew a woman
Trinket to little pieces
Puzzles making frowns and faces
She lay, lay down blankets and tablespoons
For a man who looked at her
With a quivering, ivory eye
She grew to him,
Shockingly a bud meeting rain
Thirsty for him
Leaving what she thought she was
Behind for a man like him
And she told me
She had no idea what he was
Behind closed garage doors
He bled a little every day, she said
Till there was nothing left
He burned away his wick
And hung, string-like from a beam
Swaying in a wind she never knew she blew
She left herself in his arms
Now she doesn't smile the same
I know, though I met her
Long after
Now she doesn't sleep, but sedates
Now she walks on blades of glass
But so kind
So good
She never fell like he did
I never think I knew her
Like she was
As what she was just cries
But what she built
Talks to me
Lets me know there are people who keep going
Through her smile
She lets me know
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
When i feel like im drowning, i feel like im home.
My fragile body, suspended animation, I swim like a stone.
Wobbling bubbles erupt from my mouth, conciousness dissolving in the sun.
Too quickly I'm loosing oxygen, the beauty sedates my urge to run.
A cold caress numbs me as the waves hold on to me tighter.
My thoughts stray from you, you'll drown with me, you blighter!
Fishes swim past, they carry the rainbow under scales that shimmer with stardust!
With an angels voice they sing a lullaby, slip into silent slumber I must!
Here we go again, my ball and chain pulling me away.
The ocean has swallowed the black sky, darkness calls to end my day.
Blurry faces scream above the water, Brushing fingers a grip they cant find.
There is no way back from this maze of mind!
Am i dreaming, is this fantasy, this peaceful state wont fit my reality!
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 3:16 PM UTC
The confusion sedates me
Mirrors reflect me
And I with my pain
Want to be ignored
A sinking beauty
The death daze
Forgotten and denied
The psychosis air alluring me
My mouth hides from you
Stifles the pain
Broken angel wings that refuse to fly away
Brittle ribs with no edge
My teeth bleed
I created a place for me to be safe
This battle of mine
Consumes no calories
Hating every ounce
Non existent energry
But I'm thin and shallow
Watch me die
Let me burn
My ashes will be spread
What little is left
Let the birds eat away at me
Building a nest
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 12:21 AM UTC
There is a string of hair dancing on soap
And the warm shower sedates my hope
I'm about to fall asleep on the mashed potatoes
I'm seeing old faces that I miss so much
There is tiredness groping my scalp
Driving faster is my only help
I'm seeing oncoming traffic
And they wave me into the two bright beams
They try to make me smile
I scoff, I scurry, I hurry
Into the merging lane
I'm back again
I eat different ice creams
It's an ice cream dream
And I can't find a better place to go
He can't determine the volume
It fluctuates; and so does he
He is a ****
I can't seem to differ my introspection
Between her and I
What is to weep when she can cry
My eyes are dry, the air is dry
I can't seem to stop instigating
Her lovely, confused mind
I can't seem to stop wanting
To **** his good and graceful shrine
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
Somewhere between midnight and dawn, in the middle of no where...
For miles there is just black, a faint star here and there. Or just my imagination.
I was at the bar, now I’m not.
I am lost, not really. Not my mind, though I ought to be.
Maybe the jungle juice wasn't as potent, or did the flirty woman stray its influence? The bartender shared my drinks, I'm sure.
I remember the one handed guitarist took me to some magical place. His spin made it special. The stories too.
And the slurring words and easy smile didn't mask his once life, under the spotlight, with pains and pleasures of many curtain calls.
The balmy breeze caresses like that special someone, nonchalantly, almost teasingly flicking hair from my face. Carelessly, carefully.
Stillness and darkness, a strange duet. Engulfing, cocoon-like. Draped in solitude. Tight. Yet so easy to breathe.
The trees murmur verses, the fields the chorus. A lullaby of sorts. Which sedates and awakens.
Healing. Transforming…
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 4:36 AM UTC
Look at the river and how it bends
It peaceful there
And beautiful too.
This green and pleasant place
Sedates me and I like it.
I could sit for hours and think quietly
Sometimes the sounds,
The thick urban screams
Are too much.
I prefer the quiet, the softness
Of the removed, the unreachable.
I need not travel to see the stars,
For they come to me.
They greet me lovingly
And I’m happy to see them.
I feel so small in their gaze,
Protected by my own
insignificance.
Some people are like stars
But get too close and they burn.
That’s why I like the quiet places
Love on my own in empty spaces.
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 2:04 PM UTC
The veiled moon emits
the strangest obscure light.
Silently awakening
the secret world of my dark delights.
Yet the tide twinkles,
blinding bright.
On the ancient shore
of my mind tonight.
Mysterious memories swirl
that have haunted me before.
As a dark euphoria sedates my core.
In the center of my soul,
exists a vaulted door.
Where the ghosts of the heart reside.
To go inside,
exposes every secret you ache to confide.
Whoever told me there is no magic
lied to my seeing, searching eyes.
The night is silent, can you hear it....
The world's dark veined ecstasies,
sustain my sparkling startled spirit.
May 13, 2025
May 13, 2025 at 1:39 PM UTC
By. Gina H
Trying to create my own identity
So I can separate the world from me
I take it one day at a time
On step, one breathe, one goal, one dream
Making sure I don’t miss anything on my journey
I take the time to smell the roses
The sweet aroma sedates me into livelihood
Seeing the beauty withing the dark leery streets
The happiness behind the sandiness
The love behind the hate
I separate myself and find inner peace
Freeing myself from my demons
Overcoming my incapability’s
And praising my honor, worth, and beauty
Serenity is my heart, and doubt is my mind
I escape from my mind and live
My space, my life, my world
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC