"stuffers" poems
Machine ground days
Somehow survived by clinging to precarious plans
Die for those.
For proles are stuck in a televised gleam
but I’m barred from distractions
I’m a man of action
Spring healing:
I found a new hope to get through the day
It has a name and it’s you
Workday: animistic curses
against people and their systems and products
except animals would escape forever
as soon as they open the cage
but we stay
The beastly gnashings of overworked merchandisers
for invisible self pocket stuffers
The competition's getting to us, comrades
I feel swindled out of my labor
I was pregnant
but they sold my child before
I woke up
Addressing the solipsism of my rehab circle:
I’m Kagey, and my life is hazy
but, blunted or no, let’s get this clear:
don’t trust your senses
and that goes for all my human peers
Body is a cage full of defenses
Still, I’m suspicious of reality
whether it’s façade society
or the wooden chair in front of me
Still, I enjoy the virtual scenery
I ain’t talking about on the T.V. or phone screen
I mean the willows, buildings, and faces
But all these mushy green acres are fakers
blobs without our eyesight
Still tho,
me and the universe are tight.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 8:00 AM UTC
They pull the strings behind the scenes, they think themselves queens and kings controlling everything.
And we're the poor pawns that fawn on and on and on, day to day, from dusk til dawn.
We need to stop the cycle. No, we HAVE to stop this cycle. Get off the bike, though, we might not like to, Because we're prisoners and though we're lacking actual shackles, our rights are *** backwards, and the rulers are money-hungry psychos.
We the people pay the price,
The price for living paid in pain and constant suffering,
Nothing's really what it Seems,
And no one Sees because We numb ourselves through drugs and Vicodins,
Pill-poppers, downers, uppers,
Blunt-puffers, paint huffers,
Wrist cutters, coke snuffers,
Methamphetamine intravenously-injecting stupid *************
Drug smugglers, crack stuffers,
Mother struggles, baby suffers,
Speed lovers, glass crushers,
We numb it all so no one bothers.
but sitting comfy at the summit,
Watching the planet plummet,
Are the ones pulling the strings behind the show.
The ones without a soul.
The ones behind it all, yet few of us do know.
It's time we all wake up, stop confirming to the rules, it's time we cut these strings and put the people in control.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 8:05 PM UTC
how many poems
began with the words
"I am"?
I am good
I am bad
I am misunderstood
I am steadfast
I am strong
I am wonderful
I am my best
I am better than you
I am not better than anyone
I am who I am
they write
over
and
over
again
so few poems tell us
the story of these good
and bad and other-wised
defined people
so often are we concerned
with getting them right we
forget who they really are:
fathers and grocery clerks,
jail-birds, school teachers,
drunks, priests, writers and
critics, hotel owners, bag-
stuffers, and not to mention
all the drivers of automobiles
these people
could all declare
that they are:
good/bad/strong/misunderstood/
steadfast/strong/wonderful/their
best/better than you/not better
than anyone/themselves
but until we see that they are
we have only their word and
centuries of ****** skepticism
Jul 31, 2012
Jul 31, 2012 at 4:22 PM UTC
i fill these voids inside of me with the things i don't need, the things that i perceive as happiness.
all people have their voids and all people have their fillers.
some have clothes and shoes and jewelry.
some have money and fame and colleagues.
some have *** drugs and rock and roll.
but when it comes down to it their is still that void, it's just filled to the brim with stocking stuffers.
so once you unclog the drain and all of the things come pouring out, your just a 10 pound brain piloting a slab of meat with a hole inside of you.
the hole that has been scratched out by people and misfortune and lies and deceit.
but you still have your brain... and your slab of meat, which is more than some could say they have.
so you have to move on to the next location with your void... to try and fill it.
but the thing is your still walking around with the problem.
you think that if you move and make new acquaintances the void will be filled and the past will be corked and thrown into the ocean like a bottle floating waiting to be found.
but you can't throw your bottle into the ocean because it's the only bottle you have.
it's the only life you have.
you have to find a way to not avoid the problem or try to get rid of it.
but to put the past in the past and live in your present and continue on with your future.
that's why they call it a present.. because it's a gift to even have one.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 5:33 PM UTC
God, we grew up way too fast and we forgot it all
All the piggyback rides and swings so high it was nerve racking but exciting
Every, “make a wish.”
“Be home by sundown.”
Surprise Easter baskets and Christmas presents
Stalking stuffers
Even quarters for quarter machines
We grew up so fast.
We always took for granted what we came home to because we never needed to be our own homes.
Don’t you miss the time when it was “what do you want to do with your life.” Rather than, “why don’t you have one?”
Do you remember when a promise was a interlocking of pinkies and not something that would be broken left and right?
When a position of leadership could be a caboose in the back of the line?
All we had to worry about was if we counted to ten and stayed in the lines of our coloring pages
We all worried too soon
Have you ever made sure you said “I love you.” to someone but then forgot who always nourished your heart when they soon forgot to say it back?
Maybe it’ll be too late before we realize we need to shrink back down for a second
To go back to the moments when we were swinging and to say I love you to our moms and dads.
-A.H.-
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 4:35 PM UTC
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
There was a little girl
Playing in the sun
She had a bow upon her head
And smiled at everyone.
Then some heartless people
Untied that little bow
And began to stuff her head
With WORDS that you may know.
They were COMMON words.
Words you may have seen
One began with letter 'N'
And others just as mean.
They fully stuffed her head
And when they were done
Tied her little bow again
So it would not come undone
In the end her head was lumpy
Had very little grace.
There was a mean ol' scowl
On her once lovely face...
SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) October 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
There was a little girl
Playing in the sun,
She had a bow upon her head
And smiled at everyone!
Then some heartless people
Untied that little bow,
And began to stuff her head
With some WORDS
that you may know.
They, unfortunately,
Common words.
Words you may have seen.
One began with letter 'N'
And others just as mean.
They fully stuffed her head
And when they were done,
Tied her little bow again
So it would not come undone.
In the end her head was lumpish.
Had very little grace.
And there was a mean ol' scowl
On her once-lovely face.
S~S
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 3:06 PM UTC
Hey Pippi--we aren't listening
To your global whine
And climatic rebuke.
Pippi you are a brat.
Your neurotic parents
Did a terrible job.
Your silly religion
Or lack thereof
Does not concern us.
Your long stockings
Make good stuffing
For your mouth-hole.
Hey Pippi--
The world is not ending...
But your delusions are.
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 12:02 PM UTC