"suspicions" poems
sometimes,
i like to dance
with the devil
burning eyes upon me
in hypnotic dazzle
my toes easily
sweep away inhibitions
quieting my angelic
voice's suspicions
as whispered words
brush thine ear
my entranced ego
has no fear
endangering
as it may be
our bodies entanglement
appears free
with soaring thoughts
of ecstasy
we ebb and flow
in ****** mystery
seduced in music
playing rhythmically
ecstatically,
i dance willingly
Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 12:08 PM UTC
Things can only disrupt you as much as you allow.
If this seems hard to see or needlessly abstract,
consider the Factor that is Self-Discipline:
If any factor equals Zero,
the product is also Zero.
-
I mean this in a general sense; applied over time.
Things can be extremely bothersome in any given moment
but once those bothersome moments
reach forwards (and maybe even backwards) in time
******* up a perfect good "Now" then,
I say that it's a bothersome burden
which is (most probably) a result of unresolved internalized conflicts or Shadow.
This is where Self-Discipline becomes a Factor
and my analogy takes flight, in context.
Maybe it's only true for me, but I have my suspicions that I am not so unique in this way.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 9:42 PM UTC
HOLI
On this day of Holi, today on a full Moon night ;
Lost evil and celebrated victory truth and things right.
Hirankashyap and his proud sister were so confident about their might;
But lost the evil Hirankashyap and Holika to righteousness .
Won Prahlad's faith against his father's viciousness ;
As burnt Holika into flames, survived Prahlad because of God's graciousness.
Let us also, all our vices burn, as burn will Holi, tonight
Along with ire, jealousy, suspicions, ego and all that isn't right
As arises morrow , spread may colurs of happiness, shining bright .
Armin Dutia Motashaw
Mar 9, 2020
Mar 9, 2020 at 5:56 AM UTC
Don't we two hearts oft seem to tread
on common sands? A common thread
appears to bind with no great dread,
with not a word, between us, said.
The rhythm of your ebb, my flow,
as fate takes us where we might go,
so coincide, suspicions grow-
is there some plot we can't yet know?
Your face I see, in maddened crowd,
with silence that echoes aloud.
If coincidence, I'm wowed-
if cosmic hand, it should be proud.
As subtle as sand on the wake,
who knows where next our waves will break?
Adrift on currents we both take-
The Cosmos makes no such mistake.
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 8:32 PM UTC
He rubbed his weary eyes...
What trickery could this be?
Was it a signboard draped in disguise
Or the reflection of light off a tree?
Seconds ticked as he drew closer.
The lady materialised to rule out prior suspicions.
His fingers wrestled over the rusty brake lever,
Wheels squealed their futile objections.
The lady wore a face he could barely see...
She had long tresses that bore an alluring fragrance.
Her beauty tipped the scales allowing him bravery,
Unafraid he asked, "Miss, may I be of assistance?"
Her voice seemed to ride the subtle night breeze,
Coating his ears like sugar laden candy.
Soft and demure... Yet laced with a hint of tease,
She had said, "I'm stranded in the dark as you can see..."
"What luck!", he thought, seizing the opportunity
He removed his sack to make space for her.
His heart raced being in the damsel's good company,
The lady slid herself onto the rack before they both rode together.
As he pedalled hard, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
Her voice came again, a tender little whisper,
*"I live rather close... Not far off from here...
A little over the hill... Just over yonder..."*
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 5:59 AM UTC
The bar behind the theatre was nearly empty apart from a couple of gay boys.
Well, it was a gay bar, so no ******* surprise there.
I glanced at the fat one and decided, 'No thank you very much,'
as I have noticed fat people often smell unpleasantly,
maybe it's the sweat trapped between their ********** that does it.
But the other one was very cute and I decided I would have him.
In those days, it was regarded as 'de rigeur' to buy a lad a lager and lime
before dragging him home with you for some nookie,
so I coughed up for a half pint with charm and grace.
Sadly, he was no great shakes in the conversational stakes,
but was I after intellectual stimulation? No, I ******* wasn't.
Anyway, once I'd checked his passport to ensure he was over-age
(no one wants any ******* trouble from the bigoted morality squad)
I dragged him back to my elegant bachelor orgy-pad
and stripped him off to investigate his lithe little body;
a nice smooth little **** and a reasonably clean ****
What more can you want from a one night stand?
After a bit of a damp snog and a good old *****
I lubed him up and gave his *** a right good poking.
He moaned a bit, but then who wouldn't moan,
with seven and a half inches of thick gristle shoved
all the way up their sphincter? I know I would.
After I had filled his rear end with love juice a couple of times,
I felt that kicking out was the name of the game.
Generously, I gave him a half-crown for his bus fare
as he said he was a bit short of cash, being unemployed.
It was the least I could do, as he had three miles to go home,
and it was raining cats and ******* dogs outside.
After he'd left, I checked out the bed sheets (as you would)
and was irritated to find a few skidmarks there,
or they may have been where I wiped my fingers
after having eaten a bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk.
A quick sniff confirmed my worst suspicions though.
'Ah well, true love always comes at a price', I reflected,
as I scraped the worst bits off with a nail file.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 11:49 AM UTC
In my mind,
I was flattered-
flattered at what
the world sees;
what I saw
no picture can compare.
Yes, I must be right-
right crush has been
sent back to the thought-
the thought of love.
No love can dispel-
without hate- what other
can love?
In my mind,
the right crush
becomes reality
in my mind-
there she finally is.
In retrospect,
you can only believe
your suspicions
of a drained ear
of sorrowful advice-
that advice was clinging
at the point that no
right crush-
is not right for you-
unless you see past
your suspicions of wasted love.
Did you not learn your
lesson- of freedom not
to be joined or forced
by other forces-
but the force to dispel hate.
Otherwise, there is none
other than hate that rules-
there is no right crush!
The right crush-
is what is in your mind
to dispel hate-
and with love comes peace.
This love is the right crush!
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
Seventeen years ago
America was shaken to the core.
Since not too long after that
We've been involved in a non-stop war.
Homeland security
Became an issue that since then
Hoped to assure Americans
That such attacks won't happen again.
During the past seventeen years
Many measures have been taken
To make us safe; however, it's time
For sleeping minds to reawaken.
Lacking foresight, our president
Has gone after the people who
Have worked to make us safe. The man
Doesn't seem to have a clue.
Discrediting investigators,
Removing them from key positions,
And pulling security clearances
Because of paranoid suspicions
Will only make us vulnerable
To future terrorist attacks.
Watch how his Republican friends
In Congress support him. Political hacks!
The president also hates
When investigators eye
American involvement with
The Russian mafia. We know why.
It's hard to watch as the president--
With almost each careless endeavor--
Stupidly goes out of his way
To make us more unsafe than ever.
-by Bob B (9-11-18)
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 12:26 PM UTC
To quote Athos from "The Three Musketeers"
"You are not a woman
You are a demon escaped from Hell"
When I first met you as a colleague
I made the mistake
Of getting friendly with you
When I should have ensured
That our relationship was going to be strictly professional
Of course, you had your own ways
Of charming those whom you came in contact with
That is something for which I have to give you credit
Albeit grudgingly
And you were an expert
At playing the victim card
Nevertheless, after I changed jobs
I thought I had seen the last of you
However, you came back into my life
As unexpectedly as the recent rains in Chennai
Initially, it seemed kind of sweet
However, I should have realised sooner
That you had certain ulterior motives
Unfortunately, I got fooled by your sweet talk
And started helping you financially
Because you looked up to me as a brother
I never doubted you in the slightest
Which was probably the biggest mistake of my life
You took advantage of me
In the worst way possible
And kept draining my bank account
Your lies kept getting taller and taller
And I kept believing them
Because, you had me well and truly under your thumb
However, even the most credulous person in the world
Can develop suspicions at some stage
Thus, after years of being in a psychological coma
I finally managed to wake up to the harsh reality
And told my family everything
Of course, with the help of a dear family friend
After we finally confronted you
You signed a written agreement
Promising to return all my money
Within a certain deadline
That deadline has long since passed
And you have not paid even ten percent of your dues
What is worse
Is the fact that you are absconding
And giving absolutely nonsensical reasons
Which even an utter fool would find it difficult to believe
You ruined my life
Destroyed my happiness
And shattered my self-confidence
Is this the way you treat a person
Whom you have addressed as "brother"
Not once, not twice, but several times?
I am giving you one last chance
Not for your sake
But for the sake of humanity
You had better take it
Because, if not
Then you will soon find yourself in prison
Again, to quote Athos
"You are not a woman
You are a demon escaped from Hell"
May 8, 2023
May 8, 2023 at 10:45 AM UTC
"I have gotten from there to here"
Its a simple tautology, chant it
either/or an uncertain accomplishment.
From there to there to there until there became here.
This too is fairly obvious,
but still, it seems so strange,
how many times must you be reminded
that you are too ill-equipped
to string the sequence.
And what about those weak suspicions
that reappear from time to time,
the ones you are
quick to disregard
out of the fear that you may be a lunatic.
What if they were correct, what
if a moment were nothing more
than a brown package
of stimulus.
They came to you, one after the other
and you what could you do but follow
them, like crumbs in a trail that lead
you further away from home
and into this carnival.
Where people who sing lullabies out loud
carry pistols and globs of color
are merging in all
directions.
Wedged in between "there to here"
and "here to there", the laws of tenses
never made this much of a difference.
Babies know this all too well.
That's why they're the last
ones
we turn to for wisdom.
But should they ever decide
to permanently stop crying.
You'll know what they mean by their silence.
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 5:20 PM UTC
I am a Harbor
Moss-covered barnacles
govern my legs, and my back
is drenched in fog.
My wooden walkways creak,
and the wind makes me
groan with loneliness;
but life stirs underneath,
in waves.
Ships arrive at the worst hour,
full of regrets and suspicions,
and aches and envies,
and troubles and fears.
I welcome angry sailors,
the worst of all mankind,
to drink at my tavern,
and dangle their feet
off my docks, and
stare at the sea.
They look
east by southeast, north by northwest,
to home, where only
memories
return.
Some men are bustling airports;
they welcome millions a day,
and millions a night,
see them off to other skies
and do it over again.
But I am a jealous Harbor.
I keep my vessels with me forever.
I guard them with an icy peace.
And relish in the slap of the sea.
And bathe in the salt of the wind.
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 8:30 PM UTC
You mustn't
always interject,
for it is not more auspicious
to be considered a Fool
than to affirm such suspicions,
is it not?
Defer unto thy knowledgeable peers
and, if ye be Sage among the Like,
thou shall be deferred unto.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
I remember when we were young,
and the shark fin made by falling water droplets
from the back-and-forth sway of windshield wipers
on our car window would scare you
Because you thought that the spaces we couldn’t reach
would form monsters in their crevices,
and I would laugh and roll my eyes,
like big brothers did.
And I remember how,
on nights when we would sleep over at grandma’s,
the pitter-patter of our puerile feet on hardware floors
was the only sound to be heard.
Shadows formed where the beam of my flashlight hit,
adorned with fading Spiderman stickers and the like-
and you would squeal under my whispered protests
because of the unfurling octopus limbs
that were the leaves of a potted plant.
We grew older, and so did my suspicions,
as you crept out of the realm of childish make-believe
and into a world that even when showcased in daylight was a nightmare.
Demons, from the deep fire that enflamed the world’s core
tried to penetrate the surface, according to you.
But as their hands reached forth out of the earth’s skin,
they curled in agony, the evil of the earth halting their conquest.
They fossilized and shriveled in autumn’s wake,
gray and deadened fingertips just unassuming tree branches,
the perennial reaches just fibrous spindles blurring in the sunlight.
The world held prospects despite your macabre claims,
And as we grew I distanced myself from your melancholic tune.
Trees were trees, and bore fruit at summer’s twilight
and the friends I made were all of the parts most sweet.
I was content with the woman I met, she blonde-haired and lovely
her free-falling locks sparkling gold in every light,
and her personality as rich and as glossy.
I was content with my life of looking away from spaces
where our human hands couldn’t reach,
demons out of eyesight in the beam of glass city buildings.
But as the dusk of one day segued into the dawn of another,
I grew weary,
each routine just a part of this monotonous human noise
to which I, too had voiced.
And I found myself driving one day when thunder roared in the sky,
rain once again pouring into its shark fin mold.
Your voice came into my head,
the demon hands that had had died trying to take us over with their evil
but overwhelmed by our own brand of hellish wretchedness
lined the freshly paved sidewalk,
and with a twist of the wheel one unreachable space met another.
May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC
We salute you,
Gentlemen,
And Ladies,
God bless you,
(He clearly has)
We bless you,
We support you,
At par,
So far,
Lest you bring us all down,
(That was the threat,
Was it not?)
You are so
Wicked smart,
Except those few,
Who couldn't hold on,
For our gravy train,
To respond,
For those few,
We hope last year's bonus,
Will help you survive,
Your trip down the tubes,
(Sigh)
And for all,
We are led to believe,
That you're back on your feet,
And doing quite well,
We were glad to help out,
Your derivative pleasure,
Just makes our hearts soar,
And to help you to help
The economy heal,
We're taxing your janitors
More than your managers
'Cause we know you're the source
Of all job creation,
Within this great nation,
How do we know this?
Well,
We've been told this
Been told by some very fine folk,
Some folk whom you... own?
For sure there are doubters,
But we question their wisdom,
We don't even think that
They're being good citizens,
But there are some suspicions,
My well heeled good friends,
That what's good for you folk,
Might be just a bit toxic,
To those of us few,
Who compose,
That diminishing remnant,
Of what once we could call,
The vast middle class,
Today,
We ain't even,
Half vast.
Sad to say,
Now a few of us wonder,
If you're not quite our friends,
If you don't have our best int'rests
In your schemes and your ends,
All of those yachts,
They're critical – right?
We believe in you now,
To make every thing bright,
To bring our economy
Back from the dead,
To create all those jobs,
With that barely taxed bread,
So,
While we're eatin' those grits,
In this world that you've made,
With the pols that you've bought,
Just Remember my friends,
Rot infects not just wood,
But your hearts and your souls,
And the Fire Next Time
Might be more than a book
It might be unhappy folk,
With your ***** in their sights.
Oct 6, 2011
Oct 6, 2011 at 9:40 PM UTC
How could you? I trusted you will all I had.
I put my heart in your hands and you neither crushed it nor accepted it.
I cannot hate you, but I cannot love you either.
My heart belongs to you and yours to her.
I gave myself to you, the idea of you that is.
My hope held out until my suspicions became truth.
I asked you about my doubts and you lied right to my face.
I'm not sure that I can even look at you anymore.
And yet, I cannot hate you .
I have all the reason and more to hate you, and yet I cannot.
On the other side of things, I cannot love you.
Love is a word we assign to feelings we cannot describe.
Just like you; you are indescribable.
You hold me in your being, your essence.
I cannot hate you and yet love is out of reach.
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 10:53 PM UTC
Forgive me for I play possum,
Interrupt at their business is not my interest,
In my mind that was instilled,
By parents who cares, and terrors at rest.
In riddles full of cues I acted dumb,
Oh boy, I tell you I'm not numb,
These ears need affirmations,
From your mouth, not just suspicions.
Forgive me for I play possum,
Upset and annoy you are not my intentions,
Sometimes I just find it awesome,
Fleeing from duties and directions!
I'm not treating you as squirt,
I just don't want to pay heed,
That futile and stale creed,
Consumes you though it doesn't need.
I forgive you for thinking,
That possum is still what I'm playing,
But now this puzzle is what I'm digging,
Give me some time in digesting,
For this mind is boggling,
Because that line keeps on playing!
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 8:01 AM UTC
When I see you I smile,
I kiss you, and am embraced by you.
It used to all see from the heart, now it's just an act.
I wish it to be like before, only for it to worsen.
I keep control of myself in the presence of you and other.
When inside I am broken, shattered.
You told me you loved me,
That you would always be faithful to me.
Lie after lie, I believed it to be true.
Suspicions of deceit, I ignored.
For I trusted you, and that trust you abused.
For so long you let me live in a blinded truth.
When truth came to show,
My suspicions were right all along.
My foolish love clouded my judgment, and the real you I never knew.
You cheated on all the others,
Why did I believe that I would be different.
We planned out our futures, a child on the way.
Even a wedding someday.
No longer am I blind. I now see everything.
My trust, my love, my desire for you will never be that same.
In my blindness you embraced me, said you loved me, forever faithful to me.
It angers me to know that I had once loved a cheaters embrace.
Engulfed my self in a cheaters kiss.
All untrue, now to me and you.
For you cheating was left our love lost in an unseen mist.
My trust in you, forever gone.
My love to you, forever hesitant.
Jun 7, 2012
Jun 7, 2012 at 12:04 PM UTC
Sprung, from beauteous filth,
The lies and gradation of the un wed saints
Hung, from gracious guilt,
The death and oration of the un sung and faint
Led, from grounded earth,
The soulless narration of the unloved taint
Believing is all when your all is a lie,
The smell of defeat in the blink of her eye,
The way you never fail to surprise the easily shockable,
Revealing that all was a lie of your life,
The decay of a scent from the skirt of the pile,
The path you never chose to really surmise the unreadable, uncollectable
Paid, to believe this girth,
The salt and salvation of unborn wealth,
Laid, the solution of all their faith,
The untouchable wrath and indignation of lifeless whelps,
Said, to ears that deceive all truth,
The unsinkable feeling you and your friends try not to avoid
Swaying in time to a common hope thief,
The guileless age and her sense of relief,
I thought i just told you to leave love at the door,
Poison and ruptured the stale old lies,
A night of betrayal and blood on these tiles,
Faithless, inauguration a purpose that you belie,
Lover, sweet mother, joker, and harpies with scales combine,
Hater, sweet undertaker, all is within, a touch to cold skin and a world you can't deny,
Believers, my underachievers, fornicate how to the march of the rain, a lifelong ambition that's driven in pain, a rusty disease that you spread with a knife, a guiltless decision made by his wife, a turning old format that withers and screams, a breathless recognition, we all fail to grin, just wait on the inkline to say what you want, I’m turning these covers and buying the bought, ******* the sweetness to boldly deny, that all these suspicions were aroused in the night, a turning, a quickening, a life on the rails, this one ****** mess i can't wash from my nails, so thorough, so clean, yet so impure it's not true, i tried to remake what i thought couldn't be you, but all indication now points to my spine, the tossing and yearning beneath valentine, i am the weather that spoils your day, please hold my ears as she screams my name.
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 4:48 PM UTC
Riveting, in so many aspects
Yet still you cannot seem to
Not float away from me.
Just like those clouds
in front of your eyes;
Your head dwells in them quite frequently,
Same for the pixie in your psyche,
You've discovered
the mess of her reality
Marking my heart when you sing
Want to mend
my broken wings?
With you, I have no suspicions
But **** baby,
You still lack-
Lust (re) Ambition
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 2:12 AM UTC
I am
Casting down imaginations
To the pulling down of., strong-holds
Gearing up for the.. long term
But from the outside looking in?
May seem bold
or quite
MAD*
[ Well ]
Just referring to the thoughts
that I have
that are really not that far- off
while dreaming of., REVELATION
No.. fabrication on my part
As I try to separate the Light
from the Dark
with high hopes and
Aspirations
Which is.. a sen-sational sensation of flying high
as I'm being
vated
ele-
Elevelation
High on
Or something like a planned
Evo-lu-tion that is so
True
[while]
Staying true to my elevation in 2020
leading into 2020 one
[while seeing] Dou-ble
Vision
( Although )
Some might try to fix it?
[ Yeah ]
But I would beg to differ
Cause it would take [twice] the listen
Care to listen?
Just to see things
Different
And at the same time?
Shuning the carnal mind's version
of seeing Dou-ble
Vision
May call it [ Twinning ]
Which is.. the true definition
of being Dou-ble
Minded
So.. to combat this?
I would just
never
Mind [It] ( meaning )
There's no rules or
bars of
Confinement
For no 20 or Eye is missing
from my
INTUITION
Raised suspicions?
Well., Just hoping that you will
tread.. carefully
And stay
Centered
As you enter my center of words
and.. penning
As I write the vision
I'll make it plain and simple
No Subliminals
Or either I'll keep it at minimal
While maintaining the
Visuals
As usual
As I keep on gaining in
WISDOM
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 11:47 AM UTC
It's a waterfall.
You know, the kind that cascades hard like
the white water rafting trips' featured waves
and just when you think they've calmed,
they're back even stronger.
They said they had their suspicions.
*You've been more flamboyant.
You don't want to dress like your gender.
Stereotype, stereotype, stereotype.
But to be accused,
WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US
To be yelled at,
*YOU THOUGHT WE WERE DISAPPOINTED IN YOU THEN?
To wish you were anywhere else but here...
Somewhere over the rainbow...
But I'll never be over the rainbow.
Contrary to her belief,
it's not a phase or something I'll grow out of.
It's genetic.
Contrary to his thinking,
it's not helping
when all my communication with
others is severed.
I'm gay.
There, I admit it.
It's not like I'm gonna scream it from the rooftops, and no,
it's not the reason that I really like bowties and short hair.
Can't you just
accept me?
The final blow
is when your family
decides you're too good
for that type of lifestyle.
WHAT MORE CAN I DO TO IMPRESS YOU?
I've tried my whole life to make you proud.
I guess this just goes to show
that being myself
will never be enough.
So leave me to my cascades and wet cheeks in bed-why do you care-
because we all know you're wishing I'm something I'm not.
Someone I'm not.
Disowning me
would have been the
far superior alternative
to the disappointment.
"Our youngest daughter is just like her father, but looks like her mother. And our oldest daughter? She looks like her father, but acts like her mother. Well...she did."
Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 11:19 AM UTC
Amid fear and suspicions,
with agitated mind and frightened eyes,
we melt and plan how to act
to avoid the certain
danger that so horribly threatens us.
And yet we err, this was not in our paths;
the messages were false
(or we did not hear, or fully understand them).
Another catastrophe, one we never imagined,
sudden, precipitous, falls upon us,
and unprepared -- there is no more time -- carries us off.
1.6k
I’ve written on a flyleaf: I hate you, mon amour
with hard working passion I hate you.
Ceci n’est pas une pipe, your father have told you.
you’ve been so busy to cut the day off from the night
-quite an old fashion-
and just when the silence evacuates its void to be the great pretender
perhaps Magritte had dreams about annihilation to compensate a ******
but I was dreaming of you sleeping with lions
I’ve felt your cage – the splitting of now and then into so many suspicions –
unbearable waking hour - I wake up in the dark and I can see that I love you
when the hour gently subsides to the moon
and I can find no comfort in haunting memories
I pray to the air to touch my lips with your gaze
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC