"uneager" poems
trepidation.
walk on eggshells. Don't make the wrong move. words are more powerful than you know. vanquished by them, yet again. Woulds never heal when written by a blade of sound.
walk away.
hopeless, forlorn. dejected and rejected. failure cuts a knife so deep. why. Never should make a person feel, this way. rejected. a state of being denied, shunned, dropped, jilted or abandoned. Drop-kicked is more accurate. through thoughts and feelings and walls of un-intention. Unintentional doesn't mean, unafflicting. It's not unconditional.
Up, down, turn around. Hide and seek, but words will always find you. Ominous. Noxious. Apocalyptic. Impending and inauspicious, never pending doom. Don't drown. words surround. Overpower and oppress, get in touch with loneliness. Inescapable. Better to surrender. words.
Immobilize. Can't even hear. Things being said, here. take out. shut off. take over. can't control. it's overtaking. seize power. let go. it'll never stop. Beaten. Buried. Conquered. No respite here. Weariness, none do care. Defeated, run-over. a dump truck of cruelty crushing, running over your heart. The soul is next. **** the heart, now defeat the senses. can't, survive. stressed and, suppressed.
The power of a consonant hath never been matched.
Rip apart, tear down from the start. People don't matter when reduced to mere words and petty emotion. Remove humanity. Steal personality. Nothing matters. Anymore. Disheartened and, Decomposed. Striped bare. unaware. doesn't matter, anymore.
forebodingly frightful. frustrating, feeble, failing, falling, faintheartedly framed. Fuddled. Flustered. No solution to this mess. no respite from such unbearable distress. The fright won't subside.
What a great terror, to be left outside. Alone. In the dark. words. tear, destroy. Shut out in the cold, still scared and alone. Abandoned and deserted. Desolate in a land of cruel misintentions. Uneager comprehensions.
Falling, no stopping. Fear suffocating any chance for hope. Fall.
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 3:28 PM UTC
In a blink of an eye, it was done
The cost of souls the Earth has spun
Death upon an uneager heart
Clause was signed by Death, oh what an art
It's quick, painless, at the time shameless, maiming, and brainless
Rude awakening.
At the very hour of death do you think they know?
Will they cower?
Will they stress?
Will their bodies glow like a ghost?
At the final thought of when they reminisce
Looking at their past existence
Will they understand their fault in the plan
Understand they had every moment in there hand
Realize that if there was a miss, it was oneself that didn't train to block the hit, didn't plot enough to dodge the grip, didn't get heighten to understand that evil exist, didn't realise that materializing got your brain chained like a slave being whipped.
We a trip
for worshipping them idols
stay idle
they say scram out the brain!
keep em dead and dumb
stay idle
everything will be okay
don't move worthless one
the time has come mkay
In a mist of the moment
as it clouds over my head,
I am my own opponent,
every moment,
every moment,
that I sure did not hope to miss,
was my own fault,
falling into doubt
&
stupid idol worshipping,
whether it is something so easy
as playing games
or
studying for some dumb degree,
or learning how to draw,
for art has infatuated me
even at the moment where I could land a job,
I don't take it
I just leave it
then
I cry cause I ain't owning any of these mobs
of cash
fat stacks
****
I wish I had that
a dream like all man
who work the land
that we plunder so much
what is the purpose?
why are we on this crust?
what a bunch of greedy *****
****
I am out again I need a blunt....
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
I’m distributing
the wealth of my wisdom
in that real laissez-faire way.
Between blacks and whites,
My service? Is grey,
deliciously uninviting.
Uneager to please,
I fight friction with ease:
I take pictures.
I’m writing.
May 10, 2023
May 10, 2023 at 8:51 PM UTC
i wrote you a letter,
spritzed it with pheromones,
dotted it in tears
every grim notion was far too pretty —
dressed in ballpoint ink
dancing a legato cursive
tracing everything i didn’t say;
my tongue was tangled up,
and your hearing was selective
but pain was bubbling out my pores,
and starting to burn
the only remedy was writing it out:
dear you,
i want to mold me into the
pedestal i put you on,
but you have to scooch a little
i want to go on a scavenger hunt
in your brain, but you didn’t
think to draft out clues
i want to use your heartbeat for 808s
and play them on repeat,
but you’d probably say that’s ludicrous
i want to find our favorite
frequency, i think it’s
somewhere close to middle c,
but you didn’t meet me there
never really cared to care,
and that’s fine, that’s fair
your debt to me is absent
same as mine to you
yet i’m still paying in time wasted
analyzing your words in my head
that don’t have double meanings
like i devised
you’re as literal as stem majors
uneager to decode the metaphors
i made for you
so i’ll stop writing them
at least
i’ll try
love,
me
(please)
folded up my fears of feeling
something more than my pulse
the impulse wasn’t strong enough
couldn’t muster the courage
to address it in your name
still i hoped you’d somehow see
so i let the wind take the reins
with fate in the passenger seat
clutching my precious card-stock cargo
will it find it’s way to you,
or dissolve amongst the mist?
i guess that i can only guess
Aug 10, 2019
Aug 10, 2019 at 9:37 PM UTC