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"unnerve" poems
A gentleman is not brutal, but he will prove all vendettas futile. He is not immune to bullet, fist or blade but any insult raised against him will be met with a blockade. He is stoic, but still smiles, cracking his face open without reserve for a friend, to calm, to a foe, to unnerve. A gentleman dresses his best, whether it Vans and sweater, or tie and vest. No-one is beneath his attention he gifts compliments quite often, but when a man puts a hand on him, that man goes home in a coffin. No matter his orientation, he respects every inclination, He holds the door the same way he strikes true, every time. He knows his weapon well, but in blood, he doesn't buy nor sell. He knows the time to fight but of violence, he makes no light. He respects every man, every woman, every child... But, if his family is ever hurt and this one renders apologies inert then they shall receive only a box and a white shirt.
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Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
Gentleman
Hi, I'm Happiness! People don't invite me too often. They live in melancholy, I feel forgotten. My heart is ravaged by sadness. Everybody wants me but, can't have me. I'm simple; they make me complicated. Sometimes people get unnerve because they don't want to lose me. Hi,I'm Happiness! I feel desolated. I come in different forms; As your lover, ice-cream, family, shopping ..still I'm short lived in your lives. Hi,I'm Happiness I'm in your mind; not your final destination.
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Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
Happiness
My golden heart beats and beats for you A thousand palpitations at any given moment I can feel my chest caving in within every pulse Filling my head with such evocative dialogue The salacious sound of your slithering voice Snakes into my head spreading like an aphrodisiac You solicit lecherously illicit questions that unnerve my judgment In our dreams we dreamt of double eclipses Upon our lips while we slept and slumbered Our bodies coiled like serpents tangled in tantric passion With the waking of giants and mythical expeditions Our hearts would burn the fieriest of red Ensnared between these silken sheets Springs tied around every exposed limb As if we haven’t known the sweetness of sleep for days
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Oct 19, 2011
Oct 19, 2011 at 8:28 PM UTC
Tantric Serpents Of Double Eclipses
Gilded Light's iron visage--wormhole rider... cosmic switch breaker. Restoring Lacyrma Christi in fell swoop... decorated to Seventh Sun, heart of Heart's medallion. Distilled justice, pure in action to all its vitals...sword sharpened by thin air. Resounding honorary--there, anywhere-- when dark tips the balance...off with what head before eye may blink. A wrathful entry, a peaceful exit...there is no Art of War but through him. Archangel Michael, giver and taker of fear... stores Satan's eyes in his own...to perpetually unnerve him. Dragonslayer to the degree dragons appear as lush foliage all the way to Heaven, cut down...plummeting to an entrail darkening with sleep.
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
Dragonslayer Archangel Michael
As I left the house the other day I felt some eyes on me But, I looked around both front and back and no one did I see I had this funny feeling as I walked on down the street They were hidden in the background and were being quite discreet It really did unnerve me to be watched out in the dark But then I found my stalker when I walked down by the park I turned around so quickly and looked up in the trees And there it was , I saw it, sitting staring back at me A pair of eyes were smiling, on a cat , the Cheshire kind When I looked again, I knew again, that this was just my mind I'd had this feeling once before a year or so ago But I'd looked around for someone and that someone didn't show But here I was years later standing, looking in that tree At a cat with eyes wide open, sitting, smiling back at me I said "where did you come from?" and "what is it you want?" "Why choose me to follow, why am I the one you haunt?" He blinked and said "I'm sorry, it's is you that chose to choose" "I'm just here to help your writing, you can say that I'm your Muse" "You see I surface when you need me, to give your ideas a little push" "I help filter out the voices, I'm the one that tells them shhhhhh" "An artist has a model, Lautrec...he had his ****** "Doyle had his ***** and you can say I'm yours" "But why a cat?...of all the things there is for to be chosen" "I don't know he said, maybe your mind was just frozen!" "You must like Lewis Carroll for I'm his , not yours, you know" "And just like back in Wonderland, I know just when to go". "I know when you are stuck on a word or on some prose" "That's when I come and help you, come to help show how it goes" "But, why do you stay hidden, come on now and tell me true" "Who'd believe a tale of talking cats...not me...and I'm sure not you!" "I'm near and then I'm not so close, I come just when I must" "Usually, you're on your own, your thoughts you're best to trust" "To write and share your stories, it takes a leap of faith" "But who'd believe it if you said you got your stories from a wraith?" I thought a bit, and that made sense, there's no way to tell Even though it's madness, they'd condemn me right to hell A Cheshire cat who writes your poems and sits up in a tree Now who would believe that fancy tale ?, certainly not me He said my mind has many thoughts that should be put to paper And his job was to come around when ideas began to taper Poems, and essays, stories, who knows even a book I'd only have to dig deep down, and give my mind a look Before he left I asked him why I'd not seen him before He said to me "truth be told, you've never opened up that door" "You've never crossed the threshold to where your mind gives birth" "To the ideas for all your writing, your imagination hearth" "But now you know I'm here for you and here to help you write" "I'll disappear just like before and I shall say goodnight" "Before you leave I have to say, I'm glad that this was no ruse" "And of the things there is around I'm glad it's you I chose to choose!"
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May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 5:05 PM UTC
Muse
As I left the house the other day I felt some eyes on me But, I looked around both front and back and no one did I see I had this funny feeling as I walked on down the street They were hidden in the background and were being quite discreet It really did unnerve me to be watched out in the dark But then I found my stalker when I walked down by the park I turned around so quickly and looked up in the trees And there it was , I saw it, sitting staring back at me A pair of eyes were smiling, on a cat , the Cheshire kind When I looked again, I knew again, that this was just my mind I'd had this feeling once before a year or so ago But I'd looked around for someone and that someone didn't show But here I was years later standing, looking in that tree At a cat with eyes wide open, sitting, smiling back at me I said "where did you come from?" and "what is it you want?" "Why choose me to follow, why am I the one you haunt?" He blinked and said "I'm sorry, it's is you that chose to choose" "I'm just here to help your writing, you can say that I'm your Muse" "You see I surface when you need me, to give your ideas a little push" "I help filter out the voices, I'm the one that tells them shhhhhh" "An artist has a model, Lautrec...he had his ****** "Doyle had his ***** and you can say I'm yours" "But why a cat?...of all the things there is for to be chosen" "I don't know he said, maybe your mind was just frozen!" "You must like Lewis Carroll for I'm his , not yours, you know" "And just like back in Wonderland, I know just when to go". "I know when you are stuck on a word or on some prose" "That's when I come and help you, come to help show how it goes" "But, why do you stay hidden, come on now and tell me true" "Who'd believe a tale of talking cats...not me...and I'm sure not you!" "I'm near and then I'm not so close, I come just when I must" "Usually, you're on your own, your thoughts you're best to trust" "To write and share your stories, it takes a leap of faith" "But who'd believe it if you said you got your stories from a wraith?" I thought a bit, and that made sense, there's no way to tell Even though it's madness, they'd condemn me right to hell A Cheshire cat who writes your poems and sits up in a tree Now who would believe that fancy tale ?, certainly not me He said my mind has many thoughts that should be put to paper And his job was to come around when ideas began to taper Poems, and essays, stories, who knows even a book I'd only have to dig deep down, and give my mind a look Before he left I asked him why I'd not seen him before He said to me "truth be told, you've never opened up that door" "You've never crossed the threshold to where your mind gives birth" "To the ideas for all your writing, your imagination hearth" "But now you know I'm here for you and here to help you write" "I'll disappear just like before and I shall say goodnight" "Before you leave I have to say, I'm glad that this was no ruse" "And of the things there is around I'm glad it's you I chose to choose!"
Continue reading...
50
The sound of silence. Peace after violence. A mother’s browbeaten servitude. A child’s coerced gratitude. The world’s most prosperous nations. Architects of the most dangerous machinations. Economies like never before; A life that still leaves you wanting more. The embezzlement of public finances. The settlement of a case’s nuances. Two colluding entities declaring each other free of ****** With ease, starving YOUR wallet until YOU are down on your knees. The oath: ‘to protect and serve.’ The reality? ‘To suspect and unnerve.’ A cartel that’s in charge of the guns; Like leaving a brothel in the hands of Huns. The lie of representation in government. The election, expectation of endowment. Spending your life washing your master’s feet, Then somehow being surprised by their trickery and deceit. The mistake of prioritising convenience. The finalising of our own, eventual obsolescence. We are a species that will die Clueless of our role in it, desperately asking ‘why?’ When it’s way too late.
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Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC
Paradoxical couplets
In the secret passageway where we had been hiding out, avoiding the end of term Information Technology lesson H and I explored our similarities and differences. You were a scholarship girl, a bright 12, to my slow to develop, 13. You turned to leave, leave me with your pearls of wisdom utterances which would simultaneously excite and unnerve me. Do you know I looked up the word lesbian for the second time? You rattled me, poking at me, unlayering like an onion. I extended my hand before my mind could take on the full summit of actions and direct consequences, of implications. My body took the lead, you whipped around, your mouth agape, ''H'', a hoarse whisper and a quizzical yet knowing look. You held my gaze and we both knew at that moment the truth that lived between us.
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Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 9:14 PM UTC
Aged 13
Gazing into the abyss, Experiencing extraordinary bliss. Irrefutably tranquil and content, How foolish, to proudly circumvent. The prominent beauty you observe Could surely devistate and unnerve This deceitful cunning entity Obtaining the essence of identity Becoming a grotesque atrocity Such unexplainable ferocity A strong burning temptation Revenge and retaliation Your surges on the rise Underestimating you was unwise Exhibiting robust and hostile motion You are, infact, the ocean.
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Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 5:42 AM UTC
Ocean
long enough you’re going to get burned No one comes out clean except a stillborn If I disturb you unnerve you then I’ve done something
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Apr 13, 2019
Apr 13, 2019 at 9:04 AM UTC
If You Live
to live for tomorrow is to live within your small rectangular box and to cry about the smaller things even when the box shows you glimpses of bad things and the rotators and coolers grow tired and beg for death and breathing for another day is the action you treat dearly with tomorrows oxygen in your body and the worries of belt straps and bad shoes and overturned glasses running through your blood like the rage of a toddler whose toy has been stolen and you will move through the day and see the little things but without wonder and the big with agitated disgust and the prices and movement and sounds will unnerve you like the sitting box does when it throws dead skin at you under the cover of warmth and the comfort of silence and if that box is a home and the world is alive then you will be alone and earth and wind will not bend to you nor will the songs of those who cry outside of the structure who wail for a cause greater than the man who ate the last donut or the dictionary being the only book in the hotel and now love now life now the joy and tears that yield to nothing and the chemicals that move us to places we can never describe they can wait for you because your light bulbs haven't come yet and if they had they wouldn't be turned on anyway
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Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
the box
Even the truth pauses if you ask it for the time; a woman who is smarter than you still likes it when you smile at her; every elevator stops on more than one floor; a kiss doesn’t always settle an argument but it still feels good; if you take the time to complain about frivolous things then you already are its intended victim; there’s not a woman alive who can prepare you for the next one; you will always be unsatisfied if you take yourself too seriously; if you can paint something that you’ve never seen then you have an imagination; if you can paint something that would unnerve your mother then you are free; there is nothing you should ask of someone if you excuse yourself from the same rules; a grown-up desires the same things but knows too much about tomorrow; if you think it is too late to discover your true gift then you are wrong; to live life waiting for bad news is no way to live; to see that others live the same way is to know that you are not alone; there is someone out there for you but if you keep your heart to yourself then he will walk past you like a stranger on the corner; no matter how creative you are someone can do it better; if your ego exceeds your capabilities then you will live a life of delusion; the best way to become empathetic is to become obsessed with describing the feelings of others; a true artist is always waiting for the next creation no matter how great the last one was; the impatience of the imagination is unleashed once you recognize that it exists; there's always one more love in your life but you have to give them the chance you swore you would never do again; the day you decide to justify yourself instead of challenging your beliefs is the day you stop learning; there are three ways to change, a painful mistake, hearing the truth from your best friend or comparing yourself to somone great but without the desire to change you will remain as you were when the truth tells you that time is no longer its concern; whatever is lodged in your mind causes disbelief in something, but have you built the wall in the right place?
0
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC
A Cascade of Opinion
Even the truth pauses if you ask it for the time; a woman who is smarter than you still likes it when you smile at her; every elevator stops on more than one floor; a kiss doesn’t always settle an argument but it still feels good; if you take the time to complain about frivolous things then you already are its intended victim; there’s not a woman alive who can prepare you for the next one; you will always be unsatisfied if you take yourself too seriously; if you can paint something that you’ve never seen then you have an imagination; if you can paint something that would unnerve your mother then you are free; there is nothing you should ask of someone if you excuse yourself from the same rules; a grown-up desires the same things but knows too much about tomorrow; if you think it is too late to discover your true gift then you are wrong; to live life waiting for bad news is no way to live; to see that others live the same way is to know that you are not alone; there is someone out there for you but if you keep your heart to yourself then he will walk past you like a stranger on the corner; no matter how creative you are someone can do it better; if your ego exceeds your capabilities then you will live a life of delusion; the best way to become empathetic is to become obsessed with describing the feelings of others; a true artist is always waiting for the next creation no matter how great the last one was; the impatience of the imagination is unleashed once you recognize that it exists; there's always one more love in your life but you have to give them the chance you swore you would never do again; the day you decide to justify yourself instead of challenging your beliefs is the day you stop learning; there are three ways to change, a painful mistake, hearing the truth from your best friend or comparing yourself to somone great but without the desire to change you will remain as you were when the truth tells you that time is no longer its concern; whatever is lodged in your mind causes disbelief in something, but have you built the wall in the right place?
Continue reading...
73
I freed A sea urchin Lurching Over my ********** In aversion To my excursion From the hurting Sleep Unearthing The trees Of a life Dangling From the branches Shaking With the cannons Blasting In the distance Of my resistance To the betterment Of my belligerence Toward the kids To unnerve them From the bliss Of ignorance Into servants Of science Deferring The gods To appliances And silencing The violent Tendencies Of stupidity Into ridiculously Clever things That inspire Laughing All while Mapping out The world Anew
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Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 9:44 AM UTC
Sunday morning coffee
It's all  conspiracy Idle hands are the Devil's playthings I told you so Remove the feeding tube But not during the gestation period By after the gastric bypass And right before the insemination Put the fault on the horse voiced gentry And the perpendicular denominations What's it to you? You estranged neo-native Counterfeit piety and disobedient estranged friends unnerve you You act so factious Deliberately making everything a joke Ponder the trajectory of my fist to your glass jaw And the brass knuckles to your abdomen You'll want to get an iron lung when we're through Maybe a respirator and a catheter Now, go count your toenail clippings as the idle minds cast their votes for this referendum -Tommy Johnson
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Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 8:01 PM UTC
Encumbrance
In tired atlases the doorman in pressed uniform Outstretches his left hand to the ladies right The rich waver in snare drum vibration as the Will seekers unnerve the puppy parade behind door #42 And when with you, I wish to be away And when far, I only wonder where you are Peddling rose craning over dusty text books See the light of the sun across the prodigal meadow Around the peso saloon under a half smiling moon Every man you pass can't help but whistle to salute you There's no reason to fight And there's no reason to whine With you and this moon, there will never be enough time We are the fortunate young running wild half interested Ignorant and wanting the next death, ****** war Laugh tract addicts and screen dragging junkies Pushing social standings to the edge of digital ego insanity When the sick die, they are released to the Earth When they ****** die, they are released to their past When the blessed die, they are released into eternity When the rest die, they are released onto the back pages of newspapers I look out through these eyes I have Seeing the world through a perception tainted, beaten, and enriched To seek change, is only natural, but in the end, futile Escaping myself would be my ultimate creation
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May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 2:48 AM UTC
When the Trick is Over
How can I know you so utterly and know you so very, very little? You surprise and unnerve me At every turn. I knew you would be back, But failed to predict this determined silence. Now that you have the information you need, You seem to need nothing further. And I?  I am pure need, willing you to reach out again. A fool was I, to think that waiting for you to make the first move would give me all the power, I have none, I never did. You have taken everything from me Time and time again, And still I know nothing of the secrets of your heart. Maybe there are none, Perhaps it was mere curiosity, that being satisfied Allows you now to sleep soundly Unplagued by thoughts of me. Well, I remain in agony, thinking of you constantly, Wondering, speculating, pulled apart I've never known, will never own Your strange, intriguing heart.
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Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 9:34 AM UTC
You win again
Thank you-- For looking me in the eye--really Seeing me. Thank you for always making me Laugh Because laughter is underrated. The thought of you fuels my day and and saddens my nights. Saddens because I can't For the Life of me Carry a conversation well anymore I love your eyes. And it's cliche, I know, but You used to unnerve me with them Your blue stare You jolted me from a world Where eyes are for makeup and tears Now for this connection. Thank you for carrying a conversation with me. I feel safe around you enough to spill practically my entire life You listen and respond intelligently, nonetheless. We teach each other things, but what I want, more than anything is to teach you all the things I love about you. Mostly I love that you make it better I love that we trust ourselves with feeling I love that you are different. I love that you know how to make things work Make me work, Jack. Make us.
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Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 11:34 PM UTC
Thank you
Mind of gold, teach me how to be numb, how to not feel the cold, teach me how to be strong, to be brave, to be bold teach me how to walk, a path , of a story untold heart of silver, let my pulse strike and unnerve them, like the hiss of an adder let my tongue be precise, like the aim of an archer let my eyes see through deceit, let them be crystal, let them be clearer Soul of fire, Let my heart love freely, let it aspire, hope let it acquire Let my mind be calm, as the bombs drop, and we hear gunfire Let my voice bring hope, let it sing loud like a choir Because the situation is dire…
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Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 2:25 AM UTC
A request to self
Separation Anxiety. To court this phenom, we must first observe Its grandiose stature, to which we will unnerve For as permanent as the night sky may be, Only its constellated decorations do we see. And each single time we interrupt the night, We initiate stellar parallax, and to our sight, We see the shift of our feeling strangle And find the cords of our heart untangle To twists and and turns in heaven’s shrine And a comet shall fall in my hands Its all mine.
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 1:56 AM UTC
Stellar Parallax
Did you forget me, my dear? I know I've always been a backup plan I know I'll always be there When your world fails to turn. You take me for granted And of this, I am aware So why does it unnerve me Or bring me surprise when we stop talking For days, weeks, months at a time We don't interfere in each other's lives. Then one day, one random day We drip, drip, drop everything for each other Did you forget about me, my dear? This was bound to happen It's less about forgetting And more about selectively Choosing not to remember.
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Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
Did You Forget Me?
Does it ever unnerve you to think, at night, at home That despite the innumerable odds for life elsewhere We are, or to the extent of our knowledge, all alone? This I find, is nearly too much at times to bear Does it ever unnerve you to think, at night, in bed That despite the billions of people on this earth You rarely meet new people, because of all you left unsaid? Due to some misplaced, and wrong sense of self worth? Does it ever unnerve you to think, at dusk, at home That despite both the innumerable odds for life elsewhere And the billions of people on this earth, we still feel alone?
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Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 1:41 AM UTC
Does it?
*Loved you whole fiercely With every sinew and particle Of my punctured soul. Lived, existed and thrived On the hope of you and I Being united. Inseparable A love with so much verve it Tends to unnerve us. You chose to softly **** me with indifference An absent presence.*
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May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 1:12 AM UTC
Absent presence
A restless breath Asthmatic transmission I’ve resurrected my demons Display, parade, spectacle Alliances are forming I’m forcing these words Finger in throat Erupt and unnerve Deserved preferred pathways And driveways to stumble around No commas found, only Broken sentences In disheveled paragraphs I laughed with you I lied. Fingers crossed, holding my breath A child in a burning nest I am not above, or below I rest my head on sticks and stones I’ve made no peace with this arrangement Noose bound tight Blade sharpened stroking the skin It runs in circles It tells tall tales It shows the truth My voice wouldn’t confess These mirrors haunt my shaded arrival The witness screams In fragments scattering the bathroom floor Reflection is no place to hide. I see those dark eclipses, brown and excessive Slicing each piece thinner and thinner What is left; a broken mess If I could breathe, I’d clean that too. Along with the dust that's collecting On your fingertips.
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Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
unsettled.
Find that which gives you peace... hold it in your reserve..... find it to give you strength when all seems to unnerve. With out the peace that calms the soul.. the weight of the world seems a unbearable load. Call upon the reserve you have , tucked away... let peace come to you, the storm at bay. We create our own Hell sometimes it seems... yet healing can come with a little peace.
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Dec 15, 2010
Dec 15, 2010 at 1:39 PM UTC
Peace from Within