"unconciously" poems
thats wrong
i just hate the class
its becuase she’s in it
and i can never focus
on the equations and logarithms
becuase
of the way she bites her lip
when trying to solve a problem
how she unconciously fiddles with her carcoal hair
as she listens to her music
but most of all
becuase she smiles at the face behind me
who happens to be her boyfriend
if i position myself correctly
its almost like she’s smiling at me.
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 11:31 AM UTC
When I was a kid, and all of my friends were kids, and all of us kids lived down the same street that I still live on as a not kid that none of my kid friends still live on as not kids, there was a day in the summer, or the spring....
my not kid brain has a hard time conjuring up my kid thoughts, I just remember walking outside and it was so hot
And we fetched our bikes from the shed and walked them to the blacktop only to find the greatest gift nature could bring us: a thousand tiny caterpillars crawling on the road. We couldn't ride our bikes in the street or we would squish them so we dropped them where we stood and did the only thing we knew we should: ran inside and asked mama for the ziplock bags and collected as many as we could. We thought we were saving them from any cars that might need to go down our dead end road. We didn't know what to do with them so we kept them in the bag and left them in my kid friends parents living room, sealed tight so nothing could get to them.
The next morning we went to check on them and the bag was empty.
Looking back now, I realize we probably deprived them of oxygen, starved them of nutrients and space, and probably separated them from their families.
I feel bad about that, but that's not the point. The reason I am recalling this memory and putting it into words is because I've had an epiphany.
They were robbed a chrysalis, they never flew away as beautiful butterflies.
They slept overnight in a bag with many others, waiting to puddle and flutter before they chewed their way through plastic or they died.
What we did as kids to those caterpillars, it's how I love..
Sometimes I find caterpillars in the pits of people's stomachs and my intrigue is spiked like a child's with wonder, but I always pluck the caterpillars before they get too far..
Maybe I'm a secret sleepwalker and I unconciously let them go.
I sure hope so.
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 1:21 AM UTC
I wish I could capture the moment
We exchange glances and smiles
Creating sparks,
and fireworks,
and fireflies.
Admiring you for what seems to be an eternity
Captivated by your face and beauty.
How the sunlight adds a perfect glow to your skin
Defining each curve,
and each lines,
of your face and body.
Unconciously staring at you in just pure adoration
Unable to fathom your perfection.
How the dead silence brings yourself out perfectly
Hands in your pockets,
your lips sealed tightly,
dimples showing slightly.
Mesmerized at your sweet, kindly, innocent acts
Is there anything that you lack?
How your flaws makes you as perfect as can be
Postured restlessly,
beauty mark on your back,
messy hair swaying swiftly.
You're soft-spoken within such a great humbleness
Doesn't change you nonetheless!
How unawareness effortlessly makes you perfect
"Angelic-like music,"
"striking like static,"
"scars are beauty from tragic,"
You see the good in everyone me being one, yet-
You don't realize how beautiful you are
And that's what makes you perfect even from afar.
-djs
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 11:00 AM UTC
I go through phases of cleaning
And I mean cleaning everything
Your room, my room
The entire city
I could clean and clean
But still feel *****
I'm becoming OCD
Obsessive Compulsively Dicking around
What's gonna happen to me,
When he finally gets out?
It's not like I look in the mirror
and see something I don't want to see
But I can't help but feel just a little *****
Ever since he touched me
When I didn't wanna be
Touched
A three month sentence
For a life long pain
If it wasn't for my strength,
He wouldn't even know my name
He'll never know hers
or hers
or hers
But I made sure he knows mine
I wonder if in just three months
He's had enough time
To remember my name
For the rest of his life
To remember my name
As I unconciously recite his
I wonder if he missed his kid
If he called his mom
Or if she called him
Twelve people sat in the jury that day
And I wonder how many of them
Truly believed that three months
Was enough time
To bring justice
To anyone
I wonder if even one of them
Would change their mind
If they heard what I had to say tonight
If they could hear me
I'd make sure they knew
I spent two years
Believing in a justice system that never came through
That I'll spend the rest of my life
Wondering, trying to be tough
Wishing I could finally get clean enough
And he got three months
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 12:00 AM UTC
My mind is filled with screaming thoughts, all swirling in a torrent of relentless negative ideas, that wish to fill me with the panic i've come to know on a more than intamate level.
I've started to realise they're muffuled.. as though i'm unconciously smothering these intruders, tresspassing of course being an extremely high offense in this world i don't quite remember creating.
Just sitting here listening through the fog as they try to rant at me all of the quaint little pessimisms they can think of, their voices growing quiet as i slowly steal their oxygen. What a murderer i've become, pressing upon the windpipes of my anxiety , so emotionless and uncaring, as if such a violent act were nothing out of the ordinary in here.
i know what you all must be thinking, because of course some of the voices are having the same ideas.. "She's snapped!" well perhaps i have, i'm not entirely sure about anything at the moment, but if i'm essicently killing a type of pain, then doesn't that make me benevolent rather than malevolent? fixing by destroying the main alements.
Shouldn't that mean i'm healing rather than breaking?
.
Nov 5, 2011
Nov 5, 2011 at 12:27 PM UTC
All the feeling,
Wrapped and deep,
My eyes so heavy,
I can't sleep.
Wash my skin with powdered bleach,
Can't get clean,
As your ***** thoughts sink inside of me.
I've become a pathetic waste,
Of absorbent space,
I feel myself dissolving slowly.
I am what I hate,
Isn't that great?
Unconciously bashing my throbbing head for some sense of release.
Change is inevitable,
Proven by this picture,
Unreachable,
Disappearing into mist.
Forced to forget who I used to be,
Stripping any sense of a former sanity.
Yet,
You're still beautiful,
In an acutely macabre way.
In all that you do,
All that you say.
I want to touch your lepers' skin,
Watch you melt away in shame.
Laugh at the pleasure I feel,
As you slowly engulf in my pain.
All the feeling
Wrapped and deep,
My eyes so heavy,
Finally asleep,
Struck with vicarious feeling of your body suffocating under me.
Sep 17, 2010
Sep 17, 2010 at 10:40 AM UTC
Once again, I'm forced to neglect my chance of happiness to instead give it to others.
Once again, I sit and listen to perpetual moaning about the differences between who I am and who I should be.
Why should I abide his desire to put me under? He digs himself a deeper hole each day and unconciously awaits his own bloodstained burial.
Is is wrong that I don't care whether I allow him to breathe or dump his stiff carcass in the nearest river?
I've never been tempted by ****** but lately, the vision of his lifeless eyes has been swimming in my head like the souls of a thousand unavenged hellions.
Hell hounds howl my name as my wrath is unleashed upon his wreckless soul and screams fill my ears as my vision turns a sickly yet thrilling scarlet hue.
Believe me, sweetheart, you've been begging for this for too long and when you turned on me with your petty, insolent disgrace of an excuse for breathing, I relished the thought of ripping your heart from your chest with my bare hands.
You don't want to know the things I'd love to do to you. You don't want to hear the chilling screams from my nightmares which seem more of a blissful dream lately.
This is my last warning... next time you wrongly decide to size up to me, you'll realize your mistake... but it'll be too late. By the time you notice the lack of oxygen in your lungs, your ashes will already be scattered across your mother's dinner like parmesan cheese.
That's it. I'm done. Rant over.
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 8:27 AM UTC
A friend said, "It's hard to start a relationship."
Yes, in any form, beginning is always the hardest.
Starting this poem ain't easy as well
Though I have an idea on my mind.
Introductions are harder to write than the body and the conclusion
It's so hard to start especially on a writer's block.
In writing, you can choose how to end a story
It's a choice.
But I just realize
Ending a story with a bad ending is hard as well
Unconciously, you put yourself in a trauma.
Moving on is inevitable,
It's a must
Moving on is easy,
It only takes a little time,
A little time.
But when someone knocks on your door
Why are you anxious to open it?
Are you worried what may happen?
Yes, in any form, beginning is always the hardest.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 7:03 PM UTC
Anamika
My dream
Whatever in night or in day
She's with me
May be conciously
May be unconciously
But,she's my shadow
Wherever I go
She follows me
May be it's my fantasy
But,I can't deny
Except her I'm nothing
Whatever I'm
Is only for her love
Love you lot
Miss you too
Take Care
Be Happy
Keep Smiling-Written on 31.10.2012
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 2:36 PM UTC
I'm here again, a place where I have rest my trails, prints of tears, echos of sighs.
A common place. Serene with memories of the past, images of her, me and I.
Ever so blind, shallow cuts deepened by the trickling, drops of sorrow. Alone, distant in darkness.
Embracing all of me, crawling into me, my lost spirit. Takes all of me from the spine towards centre of my neck, into my mind.
Linking the damaged path to my heart. Reviving the concious. For I have lived unconciously for so long.
To here I shall return. My common place, ever so common. Yet changed by who I am now. I return back here, now.
The present day.
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC
As I lay on the bed
Half asleep,
Eyes closed;
The sunlight sipping through the translucent curtains,
feeling warm and calm;
unconciously I reach out for your hand
To know that you were there by my side;
To see if you treasure these quiet moments of a summer's day as I do;
But all I found was nothing,
The hand I long to hold wasn't there,
Hasn't been for a long time,
Causing the pain I feel in my chest.
The breaking of the heart.
(e.i)
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 12:49 AM UTC
Your love was like a potion
that heals me
whenever I feel feeble.
You healed my soul
from its melancholic tragedy.
Yet, unconciously
it was slowly tarnishing
me inside like a poison.
Jul 28, 2020
Jul 28, 2020 at 3:22 AM UTC
How can it be?
I didn’t know that i was already falling.
Gravity pulled me back to the ground like it never touched me before.
Oblivion is you. I fell unconciously, filled with innocence of how im going to feel after the fall.
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 8:17 AM UTC
The sunshine and storm
are the package he came with.
I felt in love
hoplessly and unconciously with him.
Because of him
I unwillingly tasted
the true heart break
and the sorrow of falling in love, being in love and falling out of love.
My first love, him.
Now i'm scared of falling in love...
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 11:40 AM UTC
You remind me of the sky
Endless and vast
Blue that turns black
Filled with clouds and stars and the moon
A galaxy in a form of you.
Drops of rain in summer
blocks of ice in winter
The air in your atmosphere
I greedily breathe in
Unconciously falling deep.
You remind me of the sky
And i, a river
Blue to black and black to blue
A catastrophic beauty in a form of you
A galaxy of my own
An impossible nexus between the sky and the river
One i will never reach.
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 6:01 PM UTC
i wasn't enough for you from the start,
baby, in your eyes—i was never an art.
the world is full of shade and prose.
a phantom pain in my heart rose.
your heart and mine will never link,
i cried into poetry by my tears that are made of ink.
hair flowing amidst July breez—i sat by the stake,
struggling with pain that i couldn't take.
i recall the sweet lies you told,
i think it'll hunt me 'til i'm old.
in my heart you left a scar,
heart raced as fast as a car.
in your deception i'm stuck,
hairs behind my ears that you tuck.
in the middle of the path, i tread
with emotions i feel that are hard to read.
monotone whispers of the devil.
unconciously, i smiled like an evil,
stared at the strands of my hair that i pluck.
i'm gonna end this pain, wish me luck!
-k.
Jul 6, 2020
Jul 6, 2020 at 12:15 AM UTC