"tranquilized" poems
Let out my ego and sense of order this comes from beyond this comes from the me between me if I listen I may hear it speaking, it's sleeping but talking and rocking, not still, and perhaps it awakens, perhaps it will open its eye but we mustn't depend on the idea that once he has opened his eye the whole dream of the world will just fade like my dream tomorrow morning which I already know I'll forget, like specific angles and perspectives of specific places in space and time that have slipped away but once in a while break through to consciousness
Like the sliding breakaway walls of Timber Drive elementary school
Or the rippling pond into which I fell and the old smile and laugh of my flesh and blood rescued me and held my body afloat in the air for a moment; and once I was the proud owner of a wind powered hovercraft, another invention spilling out onto the table of attention like the actual pig intestines the popular girl's parents used in her science fair project, the one that dragged on until the last monkey refusing to be locked up with the windows 98s in the archaic computer lab was tranquilized and convulsed on the gym/cafeteria floor in front of the PTA, who'd peed blood all down the front of their sweatpants; he was firing wildly hoping to commit suicide by zookeeper
Not knowing that humanitarian laws would prevent him from achieving his bliss, for the monkey knew as the Gnostics did that to bring a child into this black iron prison is a sin.
Did the Jonestown Kool-aid free them from the prison? Do they now walk among gods within the kingdom of the heavenly spirit? None shall know until the 13 crystal skulls are re-assembled and total gnosis emanates to the people in globe-spanning shockwaves.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 9:08 PM UTC
On chain they did put me,
tied up to the burglary protector,
handcuffed and battered.
Tortured and meant to be broken.
Poisoned but survived.
Marked for assassination,
and shot twice,
bullets flying around,
resilient and unflinching,
was ready to confront them.
Dead or alive I must choose one.
Must find a way out of this mess,
to escape was on my mind,
but how do I get out of here without
jeopardizing the lives of my family.
Courage summoned I revert to plan B,
the art of fighting without fighting.
Intelligence and wisdom must come into play.
Must outwit them to survive.
Cunning and craftiness must be used,
the uncanny ways of the spirit is amazing.
Become like water,
be flexible,
Yielding but still immovable.
Stealth in action but remain like the firefly.
Understanding their intent
and misdirected anger,
their aggression towards me was contained.
Tranquilized and overpowered,
their capture became imminent for
i am more than a conquerer,
for the greater one lives in me.
Today I stand here to testify of that victory against
the intruders and assassins with a grateful heart.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 7:26 AM UTC
tranquil tranquil
tranquilized
tranquil tranquil
tranquilized
tranquil tranquil
tranquilized
WATCHIN COMMERCIALS!
WATCHIN COMMERCIALS!
i love to watch commercials on teevee
THEY
point the way point the way
point the way
way
way
WATCHIN THE STEALIN
THAT CREATES POVERTY
watchin the richman
feeling HIS peace
HIS peace
HIS peace
tranquil tranquil
tranquilized
tranquil tranquil
tranquilized
tranquil tranquil
tranquilized
dont even care
when my wife leaves me
or my kids just
spit in my face
dont even care
how they abuse me
we are so tranquil
all over the place
WE BE
tranquil tranquil
tranquilized
tranquil tranquil
tranquilized
tranquil tranquil
tranquilized
so unbelievably
TRANQUILIZED
Sep 20, 2010
Sep 20, 2010 at 12:19 PM UTC
caveat! —bursting out as the fuse fetters away
wafting t'ward oil spills, tranquilized guns
with pace maker minds
and time to ****
sickle celled, graving shores
plead to crawl underground
through cascading bile and sedatives
that sift through these negatives
like bangled thieves
who crawl on broken knees
and lie idle under haunted bridges.
bouldered bones intertwine
or veins cut along a dotted line
caveat! cries the sayer's sooth,
for he says it scours and devours—
the slinking nightmare sleuth.
the tar is interrupted in carved equinoxes
soak in the crippled toxins
as the air becomes as thick as theophany
and tharm like grease in blood that take me in,
through ash and mud and
all the spider webs caving in
like delicate gorges forges beneath
nightmare sleuth reaching zenith
caveat, silhouettes
stretched out like oil in water
and this silicon tomb can hold me no longer
for i must break out before i am a goner
because it's a mistake that i'll never shake
your face turns opaque
and there was nothing in your eyes
but dripping flesh
wring out all your words for me
your jeers and your juries
but go cling to your crutch
your kings and your qualms
and the church that burns
in its hallow vacancy
for none can resist the urge
that thieves its delinquents from catatonic catacombs
and quagmire junctions
where the swamp will **** you in
and festering sweat sticks like guilt to your skin
and hell is a nightclub where every loss is a life
and heaven's a daydream with your neck to the knife
it needs no rhyme or reason
and every slip of your broken lip
just lose your grip and give in to the treason
would you rather burn at the stake
than suffer your cement heart break
with no reason or rhyme
it's just the weight of the season
backdrop collapse
railroads unfolding
and like a cell storm the train
is coming your way
and slinks away like a nightmare sleuth
it just takes one swipe of the claw
or one bite of the tooth
and it drags you in
feel the sidewalk sleeping
and the blinking lights creeping
above the overpass
and the cold wind reeling--
it'll be your last.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 6:36 PM UTC
Orator,
fiction-teller,
great commander in chief;
So noble your quest of
Re-election,
Presenting pretty political poetry
But we don’t mind
Lie to me
As you lead me
Oh, noble politician,
Credibility only expected in consumer ability
Priorities
Great Chess Player
Moving pawns, perpetual playing
Limitless supply of sacrifices
Die for your country, he says,
That’s patriotism!
The most patriotic of them all
I shall,
hold down the fort
On my,
Noble quest of forming fictitious fantasies
American supremacy, idiocracy
Stand beside her, and guide her, through the night till she reaches he target on sight
Responsibility? Don’t be silly
Scapegoat culture is the reality
Get in line for the American Dream,
That’s it, fall in line,
On the horizon
Ill wait, I’ve got Verizon
Do you hear me now?
Hook me in, turn me off, drug me up and let me down
I’m numb anyway
Its all in the promotion
Mass manipulation, solicitation
Don’t worry we can fix you, quick fix, step right up
Too fat? Too fast? Too slow”
Throw these back – now your on a right track
Tune in-turn off- tranquilized
Text, tweet, technology
Whatever you do
Just
Don’t
Think (rise for the pledge)
Aug 19, 2012
Aug 19, 2012 at 10:38 PM UTC
She serves, serves as. Her body-is-home-is-nation.
She does not dwell, she is dwelling.
She keeps the lights on. She fluffs the pillows.
With child, eternal. She is so very...blessed.
She is the pilot light and the pile of ash.
Savior, safegaurd, scapegoat.
She is flambéed, micro-waved,
she is pressure cooked in social sweat,
and then told that she looks “radiant.”
Idolized, pasteurized, tranquilized,
she is bottled, sealed and brought
beaming to your doorstep each morning
for a reasonable monthly fee.
Her hearth fuels all creation, destruction,
and consumption followed by decaf coffee
and polite chatter in the living room.
She is so excited to welcome you into her...home.
She is incontinent. Incontinuous.
A swollen, slacken gesture towards a self.
She is wet clay laid again on wheel,
awaiting to welcome the coming
divine, un-declinable gift from god.
A fist to the gut, from beneath.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
I am paying 40g's a year to read a ******* book.
Four ******* years I devote to read a few ******* books.
two hundred bucks a pop
I'd be better off with bad credit
from unpaid fees at the public library.
I'll be paying off my social score
for the next forty years.
watch my tight skinned allure fade to menopause grey.
sun rise sun set
I'll forever be a slave
paying off this debt
society's dug my grave
prosperity's crude parade
makes my sanity tranquilized on getting paid.
money makes the world go round but
honey used to be found when
bees buzzing was a common sound
when bees knees meant nothing
trees dropped acorn spreading its breed
expanding the air
now we make babies and they like to eat and breathe
expanding our waistline
instead of our fine minds
oh yeah, apparently we need to to pay for that.
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 12:58 PM UTC
You always burn me
I never even turned the heat up once
But you kept burning me
Why do you burn me so much?
I never wanted to be the victim of this
I never instigated an Agni Kai match between anyone
But your flames still ignite my soul
Not in the other ways I've experienced
But this is far from the abnormal
Every day i think about why they burn me
I'm never going to stop
Being who i am
For something so meager in statements
I will not be punctual for your cut downs
I will only be punctual for others who deserve it and for myself
This is the next trimester and i'm giving birth to my new breath of fresh air
Go ahead and try to rampage my cities, but you will be sequestered and tranquilized
Sent back into the ocean
Where you belong
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 10:47 PM UTC
I'm sure the obscurities of the lenses clouding my vision
Are nothing more than a hologram of the world I never knew
But always thought existed in the window panes of my brain
The outside world my thoughts are too afraid to venture
For the warmth in the home of my realistic perception
Is the safe haven of who I am and what I know
And going outside my homestead into the dark forest of the things
That are undiscovered to my left but known all too well by my right
Are what excels my lenses to constantly change when the room is the same tint of light
Transitions from one thing to the next don't necessarily need to have a change one can see
I feel the forest calling me as if I'm some bewitched prophecy
But the foreboding dank blackness that thickens my view
Has always stopped me from entering into the unknown of my own self
These hazy retractions of light may cast dark shadows
However right now my mind is a whirlwind of calamities that can only be tranquilized
By venturing into the unknown darkness inside of me
This time these obscured lenses draped over my glass orbs
Create a tint similar to what is within the forest
My transitions are nonexistent but all the more in constant motion behind closed curtains
So my first steps out of my safe haven are slow
The door creaks like an old mans rusted weathered body
And I feel the pang of hysteria hit me as the outside air tests out my foreign skin
When I enter the blackened forest I begin running into what I have never known to my left but know so well in my right
The nightmare-conjuring mysteries of this realm are ready to be battled.
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 8:58 AM UTC
Thy effigy was so charming
It can grips a heart
Thy face of youthfulness
It can tranquilized a war
Many roses envied thee
Their complaints was loudly burst
That blessed was unjust
That you owned a beauty, to them ugliness
Thy prettiness a weapon
Can slave a kingdom
But it feared someone
The monstrous beast - the time
Thy beauty was rotten
The one that allured thousand kings
Thy effulgence doom
A star that used to be dream...
written: July 31, 2001 at 7:00 pm
Mysterious Aries
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 10:01 AM UTC
together
a man and woman
can do
things any one wouldn't imagine.
they could pretend as lovers,
and secretly in their dark minds
plan to rob,
all that are
fascinating in each other,
so that their mutual jealousy
will subdue for the time being.
life gets complex
in each passing day
we are aware.
we had been bitter rivals,
now every other hour
you call me in between.
you research on weather
which i also know, alarmingly changes.
the Psunami relief work
they undertook in 2005
in Kerala coast
is still incomplete!
people suffer
who cares?
human lives are more at risk
than ever;
that's my current work
commissioned by the government.
(would any one listen to the findings?
i doubt)
cynicism is rampant
but no one complains;
as if it is a luxury
of the privileged!
we meet here
in the middle ground
many mistook us as man and wife
families have become
imagined places where
things would happen like clock work;
but fail to keep up with the expectations.
individuals get exasperated as families begin to stifle.
i love your new dress
all i propose to do is
slowly undress you
like in that absurd play we acted, disjointed scenes
but the audience was in raptures.
free from physical ******* of clothes,
let's take a dip in this hot springs,
i will wash you with my hands, lovingly.
the water treatment,
the caresses of elements
our burning hearts will
get tranquilized.
we can put on our dresses
and go back
as rivals as
we were.
Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 2:05 AM UTC
A cold autumns night.
Trains and coyotes whine in the midst of dead silence.
Thoughts strewn about like leaves on the front lawn,
Dead and soon to be weathered away into thin air,
Happy thoughts weathered away in the wind,
gone with the breeze goes the last shred of sanity I had left.
Back to bullying and prejudice,
where the word “gay” gets slung around to anyone who likes to dress different.
Who does the school play instead of the football team,
who didn’t get the nerves to talk to the girl he likes because he knew she wont even listen,
but he’s tranquilized by her poison and that poison is the look she gave him in class today.
But all he hopes for is someone to give a **** about him.
For someone who will actually be there and care about him.
Life savers surround people with compassion and care,
but the preserver is just hung up to dry when his eyes are wet from dragging others out of the sea.
a boy whose never had a good thing to say about his own skin but a million things to say about anyone else’s.
He gets lost sometimes too and manages to find his way home,
like a blind puppy in the woods,
scared and alone in a scary dark world,
he walks and walks until he’s not bumping into trees any more and he feels the soft grass underneath his feet.
Only to find out he is walking into a trap dug by his own thoughts that capture him and drag him underneath the soil,
with the reaper dumping shovel load by shovel load of sand on top of him saying “Don’t worry, you’re home now”.
He cries with the trains and the coyotes on the cold autumn night.
Alone in the woods by himself with nothing but his thoughts,
a weapon of mass destruction to his own mind, and he doesn’t even know it.
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 11:00 PM UTC
Vanity stole me
Vanity corrupted me
Vanity tranquilized me
Vanity disrupted me
These lines have me thinking wrong thoughts, thoughts that are of uncanny nature and vain thoughts of selfishness and unhealthy erotica.
Vanity took all the sanity away from the head, and left me alone, not even therapy can stabilize me, I rebuild my soul.
I'm out of my mind, and I'm yellin' out, vanity
...
Like a drug itself, these lines are like decaf and vanity is my addictive curse.
Addiction not to the drug, but to the feeling of such an intense self love, it eats you up inside, you take the substance to escape the sinful feeling.
Logic, and proportion, all dead.
Losing myself,
Get out of my head.
Get out of my thoughts.
Mar 29, 2019
Mar 29, 2019 at 7:10 PM UTC
You are my peaceful breeze
You are my calm ocean
Fragrance of your smile
Envelopes me making
My soul tranquilized
©️Sobbingsoul
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 10:35 PM UTC
It is in, the how,
not the why, the where,
or, the when,
no, no, it
Is the how,
that provisions and provides
all the answers
that any lover needs, for
In the how, one revels,
but also,
unbeknownst, unwillingly, reveals
what one's heart wishes to secret, and conceals
and with
The single stroke
of a single finger,
lightly across thy cheek,
raising sky colors upon
thy skin's patina and,
How commences the matina,
with petals of white cloud roses,
blushing anew in your cheeks,
loveliest of failed cover ups,
laughing, I airbrush your
almost, invisible tears away,
residue of melodramas of troubled sleep,
stilled and stolen, mine,
to pacify, keep,
tranquilized in my breast
It, Is In, The How,
What, You Are Thinking.
What vincible arrogance
humans possess when we pray,
we hope, knowing that we are infidels,
hoping to mislead
the eyes that glance upon us
You give up the shadows painted for me when
filtered beams, rays of
a, and of...kind,
lance shield of densest lead,
lain upon the chest to cloak
the tremors of volcanic hearts,
the eyes of hurricane thoughts,
containers of need that
Are so full of oh so
many questions, yet,
singularly resolved,
with the answer of
a single stroke,
of a single finger,
lightly across thy cheek,
knowingly full well you are
Thinking there is no exit,
no right of way to negate
the sum of what we let to ail us,
O disbeliever, how simple be,
for all, all of
It, Is In, The How,
What, You Are Thinking,
I soften and modulate,
your conflicted complexion,
with the answer of
a single stroke,
of a single finger,
lightly across thy cheek,
all that is mine,
to encapsulate,
recharge, refill thy vessel
with Bocelli tones of
passioned, gloried harmony
Worry not if my eyesight dims,
be unconcerned if
my hearing, my voices
wearies and weakens,
for all the answers
we shall ever need
remain, contained in
a single stroke,
of a single finger,
lightly across thy cheek,
and
this is how I know now,
and forever more,
what you are thinking
As long as skin is the coverlet
o'er the bell jar of mind n' heart,
as long oxygen defies gravity,
I will know how,
unveil, open secret chambers,
now and forever more,
what you are thinking
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 10:53 PM UTC
Because if you study those
Decrepit maps curled up in the
corners of antique stores and
the menus of sleepy little diners
Where retired navy men gather to drink coffee
Murky as the water they worked on
For their entire uncertain lives
You would be studying
what used to be Slaughter County
Where it remains tranquilized
By narcotic gray skies
Next to islands that awkwardly
break off from the mainland
Creating channels
Where anxiety is drained
Into the population of
the suicidal indigenous
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 5:24 AM UTC
you can't change them
if you tranquilized them
you could paint them
But it would just flake off
However people aren't leopards
they can change
sometimes
even for the better.
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 10:10 PM UTC
the fair fleeced lamb lay tranquilized
on the frigid, unforgiving barn floor.
crimeless and chaste, his crude caress penalized
her until she desired to live no more.
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
100b in the lobby made them hungry
as they imagined him bound like a burrito
and tranquilized so they snacked
on jawbreakers while ******* their problems
into eachother's
face
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 10:27 AM UTC
If you want to walk,
Run.
If you want to swim,
Dive.
If you want to breath,
Gasp.
If you like,
Love.
If you hate,
Revile.
If you want to leave,
Walk out the door.
If you want to,
Do.
This life is full of chances,
and unless you grab them by the collar,
you gain nothing.
Focus on the possible, not the impossible.
Take a life lesson from physics,
even the improbable,
have a possibilty.
Do not allow yourself to be stifled,
London said, “The function of man is to live, not exist”.
Everything gives an opportunity to learn,
so take it all in.
Look for the moments,
cherish them when they arrive,
and cling to them with such ferocity,
you are worried you left grooves in the stone.
Hopefully, you did.
Leave your mark,
others will leave theirs.
No one ever succeeded without first trying.
So don’t say no,
or accept no,
because it and its followers,
aren’t worth your time.
Unlike the pickers in the orchards,
forsaking the twisted apples,
take every opportunity given to you.
You will be one of the privileged few,
to know the sweetness of the twisted apples.
Do not become complacent,
and do not seek sedation,
lest you be tranquilized,
into a grand mediocre existence.
We don’t have much time,
Why waste a single fleeting moment of it?
When you become contented,
Run away.
Get as far away as you can,
And embrace the discomfort.
Life is now,
not then,
not later,
but now.
Live it.
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 9:48 PM UTC
I had a 10 pound
weight in my hand
as I imagined you
spilled across the
room drunk like
a tranquilized
bear except
you were
more like
a mouse
or a flea
or not
at all
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 4:47 PM UTC
Dewy days lit by darkness
Died away in flames of sunset.
Clouded heart sailed across the wreck.
Tears ruptured adorned the deck.
Shimmering rays of certitude
Vanished in broad chested casket.
Tranquilized moonlit night
After stormy breeze sighed.
Path deluge in memories of conceit
Still the heart emanated from muddled plight.
Vineyard stealthily took away a few golden rays
Grapes stood blushing on the vine of mays.
Canopy of vine fabricated life
In a crystalline glass brighten up the path!
© 2016 Geetha Jayakumar. All rights reserved
Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 7:55 AM UTC
Isolated air,
flowing over the tranquilized seas,
touching the gray, highest peaks,
to the vast city of trees.
You think as this you see,
that not a care there could be,
but beyond the darkened forests,
there's a creature with a plea.
Soundless sun,
wind breezing ever-so gently.
The great star begins to set,
and the sky starts to darken.
Amongst it looks harmless,
every bit of life lays to rest.
But if you listen closely now,
a sound of pain you will get.
Pitch-black surroundings.
Not a human could possibly see.
It's this time of the day,
where not a soul there would be.
Most are sleeping calmly,
while others burst into "life".
And through the meadows of leaves,
a new creature lives to fight.
Somber abyss,
when most choose to hide.
Keeping safe from apprehension,
hoping not to die.
All of the Creatures are out now,
together in dicerption they roam.
Tracking any piece of sufferable life,
the ones weak and alone.
Powerful ones,
they wait in the night.
They forever remain the ones
who will never again die.
To say they aren't devious,
would be the most frank of lies.
They feed apon the good ones,
and through the night they seem to fly
Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 3:11 PM UTC