"supervised" poems
Counting... Always... Counting.
A cup of herbal tea, maybe with some sugar.
If I feel up to it.
Maybe some soup, grilled cheese.
If I can stomach it.
Dinner. Whatever mom makes.
My only supervised meal.
Tired, all day... Every day.
Drowning in college papers.
The curves I worked so hard to get back...
Well. They're nearly gone.
Protruding hip bones,
Protruding collar bones,
Boney fingers,
Pale skin,
Fantastic figure and pretty ribs,
Cold toes and bad circulation.
Heart murmurs... Shaky breathing... Migraines... Exhaustion... Confusion... Lethargy... Weight loss
Shaking, Shaking, Shaking...
Shivering?
Gotta go make a cuppa, warm up a bit.
But... what's left for me to be healthy for, anyway?
I'll take a bath to warm up instead
Probably.
Nov 18, 2020
Nov 18, 2020 at 1:27 PM UTC
Chaos, demolition, destruction
controlled through supervised instruction
no end to slaughter, no reduction
have their own ways of seduction
On that throne, they sit and stare
The one which is called the 'chair'
Nation's green honour gone abrupt
you say, you're still not corrupt?
no one points at you, while you deduct
waiting for the world to erupt
Just about everything, you'll see here
Roots all clung to the evil chair
In which those so called governors sit
organisers, runners of this lovely bit
performing tricks for the show to lit
prepared for them is a special pit
Looters and criminals, all have a pair
Of gloves to keep stain off their chair
Don't believe their words, bark whatever
bamboozle us, truth from our eyes they sever
residing in those large structures like hever
could write three books upon their clever
Dreadful reality transferred heir upon heir
Criminals need not legitimate relations, just their ****** chair!
Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 7:14 AM UTC
-Undiagnosed-
Pray, don’t pity me,
For I do take blame
That I pity myself
And thus suffer this pain,
And please don’t mock
For there are greater ills
And more the deaths,
My suffering is nil.
Then perhaps
You’d maim my diet,
The lack of sun and
Poor exercise.
I need not even ask
How I’d improve my life,
When the bones sap my vigor
and seem to swell overnight.
And how could I ever try to say
That I see darkness when I go my way,
Pins and needles as I stand,
When the fault is mine anyway?
I shouldn’t even start to think
How my head throbs and pounds all night,
It’s surely because I don’t wake up with the sun.
But how do I wake when I don’t close my eyes?
Now, could it possibly be
You decided that I don’t rest,
That all this pain causes fatigue,
That sleep, you think, is for the best?
Consider when after hours and hours
My body finally dreams in defeat,
Would anyone care to do my work
If I shirk it off to get more sleep?
If the animals end up ill fed,
And the duties are not supervised,
With what peace do I lie in bed,
When it could be done better otherwise?
And so here I do write at six,
With my jaw stiff and eyes bright,
The wires of pain gently shift
Every time I move my hand to write.
What could I wake anyone for,
When painkillers don’t **** enough?
Just to say I cannot sleep?
I’d hear ‘wake up then, be tough’.
So do not again
Bid me to be strong,
Unless you tell the blind to see.
Well dear sir,
There’s no argument for that,
Except, please let me be.
What indeed could you try to cure
When I’m just deficiencies,
Of wit and courage, also strength,
Calcium may be imaginary.
But truly, I do agree,
With the opinion you selflessly endure.
For evidently
Nothing’s wrong with me,
And the pain one must learn to ignore.
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC
I'll never forget the feeling of my baby brother's fingertips,
How thankful I was to feel his flesh and not empty space.
Hydronephrosis wasn't a word they told me to study for my 5th grade spelling bee,
but it somehow because my most frequently used word for the first month of his life.
Along with guardian ad litem, child support, separation
because Daddy hit Mommy, and Daddy hit Maddie.
Supervised visitation.
Daddy hasn't seen him in six years but Maddie saw Daddy just the other day and had panic attacks instead of sleeping.
Every time I see a trait in my baby brother than reminds me of his dad I love on him a little more
So he doesn't give a sixth grader PTSD one day.
Hydronephrosis is child's play when they start talking about leukemia,
Or lymphoma,
Or osteosarcoma,
Or whatever the **** it is because they still don't know what's wrong
with my 7 year old piece of heaven,
my proof that pure, unadulterated innocence still exists.
I missed two weeks of school
to make sure his dimples always showed
And to make sure Mommy didn't fall apart
I was supposed to be her rock
But my own tears wore me down.
I eroded.
Like grains of sand slipping through fingers, I watched him slip away.
He almost died in my arms.
I missed two weeks of school
And still miss days when he goes to the doctor
I'm waiting by the phone for when a check up turns into a diagnosis
Praying to a god I'm not even sure exists anymore
To keep me alive
By keeping him alive.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
The Universe is compelled to Upgrade!
Stars, Nebula, even Black Holes must be Improved!
**Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Sis Boom Bah! Rah! Rah! Rah! Sis Boom Bah!**
It is risen! It is risen! It is Risen!
Most marvelous, miraculous divine device!
Forget turning water into wine... Lame!
Forget Muhammed moving that mountain... Lame!
Let Lazarus flop back into the tomb... Lame!
This is Miracle as it was meant to be!
Oh grand glorious God of International Capitalism!
The triumphant product of American Genius manifest
in the work of many skilled primates' foreign hands.
Truly an event of Startling Global Significance!
And you have stood like a lemming on methamphetamine
many long hours in the rain to be possessed by its majesty
and now it is yours, yours, yours, yours alone
for only $649 dollars plus a few hundred monthly.
Let all the bells be rung! Let high Hosannas be sung!
A phone so smart it was beta tested on the lobotomized
and made them look like slightly scarred Steven Hawings!
The apps that are available will explode your existence!
They can provide *********** wipe your *** ******* you.
Yes! Imagine Siri willingly kneeling between your legs!
Oh, but what to do about that first important call or text?
It must be equal in loftiness to this Digital Masterpiece!
Perhaps command it to call Obama and implore him to gain weight,
or Alexander Putin to tell him a Polar Bear needs wrestling,
or perhaps God to tell him he is no longer necessary.
No, all of these are far too paltry for that first message.
Instead, tell Siri to search for the nearest Lunatic Asylum
and book as many cells as possible for self-obsessed consumers.
That way they can text and call in medically supervised bliss,
undisturbed until Apple provides them with the next Transfiguration.
It will probably only be six months from now... Suckers.
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 8:18 AM UTC
Crazy Love
I love you, you love me,
we're one dysfunctional family.
You're psychotic, I'm bipolar,
we both push a doll in a baby stroller.
You're a bit crazy, I'm a bit nuts,
we're both paranoid and have no guts.
Our two kids think we're insane,
for fun they tie us up with a chain.
We both take pills to help medicate,
when we get high, we like to levitate.
We've both been in a mental institution,
somehow we both avoided execution.
When we got married, no one came,
our family, we put to shame.
All that matters is we have each other,
it doesn't matter that we both suffer.
You write poems, I write rhyming stories,
mad scientists built us in secret laboratories.
Once a year we renew our vows,
all that ever attend are chickens and cows.
Kids moved out when they were ten,
we get supervised visits every now and then.
We fell in love when very young,
she loves the way I use my tongue.
Our favorite game is naked twister,
oh did I mention we're brother and sister.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
I,
Art,
Pointed vocabulary.
You,
Me,
Or I,
Combustible,
Inexcusably,
Irrevocably,
Unattainably,
Plated,
And jaded,
New years faded,
We,
Are geometric.
Mathematically methodic,
Periodically pinning,
Hot and heated,
Razor folds and sharply pleated,
Fascist fad,
Plaid,
Bellbottom dreams,
Up do uppers,
Down right downers,
Freedom from freedom,
Morals for the meat grinder,
Hamburger politics,
Methodic politics,
Periodic politics,
Political politics,
Politics frolic with a devil,
And an angel by its side,
For a fast food meal,
With hamburger policies,
And fascist fries,
Supersized and supervised.
Apr 7, 2010
Apr 7, 2010 at 2:37 PM UTC
.
War. Famine.
Pestilence. Death.
Enjoy a game of poker.
It relieves the boredom.
They only have one Big project
booked into the work diary.
The horses are stabled,
so why not have down time?
The day-to-day business
takes care of itself.
Ably supervised by the humans
in a race to the Big day.
The stillness is penetrated by sound.
Death cleaning his teeth
with his reaping scythe or
Death sharpening his reaping scythe
on his teeth.
Either way, it shattered vertebrae.
His nerves were getting twitchy.
Three Kings, the Jack and Queen of Clubs.
Royals were dropping like flies.
It was going to be a busy night.
He met Wars eyes and her bet,
**** She looks beautiful sweating),
paid an advance and called.
Uncharacteristically delicate,
he lay down his souls.
Jack and Queen of Clubs.
Kings of Diamonds, Spades and Hearts.
War smiled sweetly.
Her dirk-like eyelashes
fluttering an assassins dance.
Letting her cards fall soft,
triumphant with winners ecstasy,
she declares her hand...
… “SNAP!” she says.
© Pagan Paul (14/03/17)
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 6:18 PM UTC
I guess you wouldn't see this everyday
A 43 year old man writing in a diary
But hell what other choice do I have
See a shrink
Talk my problems out
So I'll give you the details
My names Karl 43 yrs old
Divorced 5 times
7 children I barely get to see
Kids mothers think I have manic depression
Judges took my supervised visitation rights away
Because I had a mental breakdown
Ended up in the psych-ward for a month
I'm working three jobs
Little Ceasers, Raising Canes, and a handyman
I'm living in my moms basement
Paying rent out the ***
Even though I'm barely here
You tell me if I've had it rough
My dad drank himself to death
Beating my mother and me
My older brother died during service
My younger sister is a crack fiend
And I've spent more money on her
To stay in rehab than I have on clothes
For both me and my kids
I've been recently cutting
I saw my oldest do it
When I confronted him
He said it relieved the pain
He was right
Still feels wrong
I just wonder when enough is enough
When you finally give up
I've been a devoted Christian
Yet I've never seen the end of it
The constant pain
The endless torture of reality
Hell would be my heaven right now
I have no friends
I don't have a single clue
Where my life went to
But I'm sure it's heading nowhere fast
Thought about ending it
But the picture of me and my kids
Always seems to stop me cold
I just wish I could say I'm sorry
That I wish I could be a better father
A more devoted husband
But how can I do any of that
When the woman I've been with
Only wanted my wallet more than my heart
I don't even remember the smell of cologne
I guess I'm just rambling
But how old do you need to be
To die from a broken heart
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 3:25 AM UTC
It’s mid-afternoon in the sweltering sun
And my mind is stumbling like a cloud
And I’m trying to empty its contents on the table
But I’m afraid of what I’ll find.
And if I stay here I’m doomed
To end up like my parents,
Looking at the same walls
********** every speck of paint
Shattering each framed family photo
With my pseudo-telekinetic powers
And if I go I’m doomed to end up a *****
A heartsick wanderer.
Vulnerable to the forces and people after me
Staying or going won’t eradicate my fears
So what is option C?
I’ve already tried madness
And pills and alcohol
And all the quick fixes I could get my hands on
And if I fall for him,
I could collapse like a dying star
And if I don’t tell him how I feel
I might lose my place in the universal race
And have to chase him in my next lifetime
I’ve been so long on the defense it’s taken its toll
I’ve become fat and lazy and a nasty drunk
With a switchblade at my side
And my medication slows my metabolism
My DNA slows my metabolism
And I wonder how many elements I could swallow on the periodic table
And I think about the time I took speed and drank endless pots of coffee
And how much of a rush it was at night but how horrific it was in the day
And if I had money everyday I’d drink myself to death without mercy
Choking on one’s ***** has to hold some poetic merit
All accidents are beautiful as long as you’re a bird chained to the sky
Beneath outer space and God’s realm of heaven
Still no matter how much I write the world sees me as
Fat, lazy and useless-
A baby that needs to be supervised
But needs to get a job because times are tight
But the only job that doesn’t give me panic attacks
Is the job I’m doing right now
Which may or may not serve a purpose after I’m long gone
And I feel I may die heartbroken and penniless
But refuse to conform to a society that shunned me
And some believe in randomness and coincidence
But I still see in signs and symbols,
Mostly from my dreams which the devil wakes me up from too early
And the clouds no longer talk
The rabbits no longer come in pairs
But I still believe in the portal in the garden
Where the face of an ancient turtle welcomed me.
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 7:36 PM UTC
When I said to you I would like to try a new position, What do you think I meant .
A new bar.
When was the last time we had ***
My birthday.
No.
Your birthday.
No, it was when my mum died.
That was a sad day.
Not for you it wasn't, you supervised the cremation.
I had to make sure.
Do you know why my mum hated you.
I don’t think she hated me.
No, she definitely hated you.
She hated everyone.
You most of all.
Was it because I married you.
No, that's why she hated me. It was because you violated her underwear drawer.
I was looking for that furry thing you told me about.
Then you should've just said that. I told you that fetish story wouldn't fly.
Well then, you shouldn’t have let her spread it around.
I know.
Wait a minute. You told her the fetish story wouldn't fly.
Eermm...
Why would you let her spread that around.
Well it was around the time I caught you with the girl next door.
You said you liked two girls!
You're not a girl! You just wear my clothes sometimes and I've been more than tolerant about that.
Paul Gaffney & Lily Nurmi.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 11:46 AM UTC
I remember the supervised showers
The crushed ice
The cries at night
The feeling of losing control
The idea that earbuds with the right twist and ties could make me die
The sewn on pillowcases
The weapon in scissors, mirrors, handles, sheets, bedposts, bags, shampoo, straps, glass, pens
The misdemeanor
The boy who’s anorexia was his slow suicide
The girl with two siblings that killed themselves
How everyone wanted to **** themself
The 7-year-old that only cried
The lime green hallways that haunt my mind
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 4:57 AM UTC
...Many matters steeped--yellowed...
play the day...inasmuch made as what
play the body.
Tho'...there's will beyond day and body...
to be done...where day outgrew body,
body...day.
Particulars ironed out, at arm's length...
one Adam...ruddy eorthe...reaching...
many matters steeped--blackened...
play the night...inasmuch made as what
play the body.
Nightlong-Daylong...the more, supervised
play by...One at One with Will...tho' seconded...
done.
That it were, yet is...done, done, DONE!
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 2:19 AM UTC
My therapist says I'm a Walking Challenge;
Is that what you saw in me?
A broken soul that you could mend
But in the end
I challenged
Tonight
I'm going to give you some advice
I should have gave you
long ago
down the road
maybe you'll thank me
For my complete
and utter
honesty
I'm not happy that we're done
I'm just glad to be a ******
And the battle wasn't won
all the soldiers just went home
Only you can tell me otherwise
Only you could tell me blatant lies
Only I could take your supervised
view of the world
And see it through different eyes
I am frightened now
at what you said
But it all makes sense inside my head
That you search for broken
bent
and dead
To revive what you think you can.
But some things are just better off numb
and don't think that you are the only one
to save
to be the "man"
to fill the holes
of souls that never were empty.
You're trying to fix things that were never broken
Always searching for the upper hand,
when I only stood equal.
And now when you say she's
"possibly even more ****** up"
than I was;
I understand.
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
On the backs of the women before us
Stands legacy and triumph,
Women like Anna Komnene
Who saved her father’s reputation, knew the classics,
And supervised hospitals,
Proving you can be royalty and brilliant,
Empress Wu,
The only known empress in early Chinese history,
Who challenged the norms for women liberation,
On the backs of the women before us,
Are the Roasies,
The strong women who joined industry and steel during World War 2,
Doing a man’s job,
Showing women have muscle,
A group known as the night witches
Women who bombed Nazi’s in the darkest hours,
Showing women can fight,
On the backs of the women before us,
Sacajawea,
Who at 16 trekked the mid-west with Lewis and Clark with a baby on her back,
Proving women can endure,
Kathrine Johnson,
Who proved to the world gender and color doesn’t matter,
Anyone can use mathematics for the growth of humanity,
Rosa Parks, who looked into the eyes of a white man,
And refused to give up her seat,
Proving that women can revolt,
Nellie Bly,
Who mothered investigative journalism,
Florence nightingale,
Who without her nursing wouldn’t have its roots,
On the backs of the women today,
Is Malala who at 15 was shot for standing up for a girl’s right for education,
Or Gretta Thunberg who at 17 is fighting for a greener earth,
On the backs of the women before us,
And on the backs of the women today,
Are women showing girls that tomorrow and the day after,
They can look into the eye of a man and say
Try me.. I’ll go far
Mar 25, 2020
Mar 25, 2020 at 3:20 PM UTC
Seven seas and twilight moons.
Darker shades give us
Clearer visions.
Touch all night and don't wake
'Til noon.
Risk it all under supervision.
I don't need to be supervised.
What we doin' ain't so forbidden.
Keep me more than just
Hypnotized...
It's alluring, everything we're
Keeping hidden.
Give your body a pulse that
Stutters.
Look into eyes with a gaze so
True.
Undercovers, keep it undercover.
Oh, all the things I would do
To you.
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 4:39 PM UTC
i love these few moments
of the morning....
when the house bustles
but in essence..i am
alone...
the boys are still sleeping
but restless...
the house creaks and groans
as i prepare for the day
supervised by the blue cat's
eyes as he sits at the window and calls for a bird rollcall...
this is our time...
sandwiches made...
magpies called to order
we sit is companionable silence...
watching the neigborhood
awake and catch up to us
the early risers....
today...will be a good day...
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 2:58 PM UTC
Like moss covering the north face
Suckling the morning dew
Like a rose in a garden
Absorbing tenderness of the caretaker's hand
Like the fishling in the bay
Savoring sea grass drifting by
Like the young gull
Peeping persistently for their mothers' love
Like the oak tree
Biding the squirrel's forgetfulness
Or a boat
Painstakingly supervised under withered hands of sailors
Who themselves wizened over the years
Tasting the salt spray sweating under the sun
Like all existence
Holding the hourglass of time
So you too, my friend
Will grow to unimaginable heights.
Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 12:36 AM UTC
i just wanna take a moment to take off my disguise so you can look into my eyes and see inside my mind. tell me what you see. i bet it was a surprise. i bet you saw hidden cries and things that i’ve denied. there’s a thousand tears welled up my eyes but i’ll never show you, i’ll just let my feelings continue to fly to place that’s s•cked my heart dry. i must advise against it but if you wanna act like spies, go ahead, undo the ties i’ve put in place to keep you from the “prize”. i’m impossible to analyze. let me emphasize, i’m not something to be centralized, at the end of this all you can say is “at least i tried”. everything you see inside, please don’t try and memorize. i don’t want my thoughts supervised, they’re hard enough to verbalize...so hard i feel immobilized. perhaps this is a silent cry; i’ll let you decide.
Jun 29, 2020
Jun 29, 2020 at 10:01 PM UTC
Everything around me seems to be 500 stories tall,
When I make it to the top, I'm still haunted by the fall.
White walls around me, paired with white coats
No windows, no sunshine, just a cold stethoscope.
I don't want to be here, cared for, or analyzed
My emotions are raw, and I don't want them supervised
Put your pen down, please stop writing my expression
and maybe you'd be better at your so called "profession."
Not everything is a prescription, my mind will not tame.
You say that I matter, but I could not say the same.
So when you watch me, watch the white wall,
don't bother reaching out, just let me fall.
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 3:47 PM UTC
Growing in the sorrow of adventure
Supervised by the world changes;
Born by two and raised by one
From the equation of a solution
A new life was given to the world.
By Grace its brought to the earth
Though its survival is by mercy,
It had no choice in being born
But now has a chance to live:
In segregation and abandonment
Everything looks to her despite their
Weight or measure or length
The herein she is, to buildup light in it.
The pair torn apart by the tales of time
And the single lover carries on the luggage
One who cant give up the fight of
Her very pain and own intimate blood.
Her choices standstill to sacrifice her happiness
To water the seedling to germinate,
Born easily to the earth of witches who
Who cant tell ones fortune
Or what tomorrow holds,
But only gamble about a daily bite.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 8:26 AM UTC
She ran away from parents,school, and family not long ago- left behind a loving envirnment, finally she was found again and the children's law degreed that she would be better served in a state supervised home far away from her own. visting parents at court appointed times .and while she was on that personal adventure her parents had to cling and hold on to both jobs and sanity , while silent tears fell down each face away from prying eyes to see.ever putting on a brave united front, while looking up to God to ever let His love and direction inside be.
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC