"unreliability" poems
Loneliness is a pain,
Not the pain of a knife cutting through skin, sinews, muscles,and drawing blood.
Not the pain of a tooth in your mouth throbbing and sending shocks of horrors through highways of swollen nerves..
Not a fatal pain of a dying cell being devoured by a cancerous growth that thrives on the death and the pain of the very cells that produces its been.
Not the pain of the prisoner s body been tortured by men who see no wrong or feel no shame as they insert sharp hot instruments into natural and man made orifices in their captives helpless, hopeless bodies.
Not the pain of age as the body's functions start their natural march towards unreliability , Hips, knees knuckles, elbows and all the other joints as they begin to slowly dry up and rub against each other like stones rolling down a hillside.
Not the pain of hearts slowing, livers hardening,lungs wheezing like ripped accordians bellows .
Not the pain of childbirth.
Not the pain of accidents that show no fairness to the person in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Not the pain of self inflicted wounds that can fool you into thinking that that pain is the answer to your problems.
Not the pain of the young healthy times when the body, and mind could accept it and overcome it
Not the pain of hunger or thirst.
Loneliness is the pain of the soul .
Loneliness is the pain of dreams that are dreamt when your asleep and when you'r awake.
Loneliness is the pain of memories . Some half forgotten some that are so clear you could almost touch them.
Some you'd rather forget.
Some you would spend the rest of your life reliving over and over again.
Loneliness is the pain that at times can be part relieved momentarily through the bottom of a whiskey bottle or a point of a syringe filled with a concoction of juices from plants poisonous to both the body and the soul.
Loneliness can never be cured by earthly things. Loneliness is a pain that can only find peace through a kinderd spirit.
Pat Rooney 2013
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 2:24 AM UTC
The world is a place of unreliability. There is no promise. There are no things to be assured. We can spew words and make them happen; but we can never be certain they will occur until executed. There are people that value themselves more than they value others; although there are people that have the capability to value others over themselves.
We all walk around like we know everything. Like we know God. Like we know death. Like we know love…but we don't know anything. Our feeble minds aren't willing to tell us that. They let us think narcissistic, egocentric and arrogant thoughts; while dismissing the ignorance of it all. All of us aspire highly. Dreaming for success. Hoping one day we can get there.
Then what?
Everyone will forget.
Everyone will be gone, along with the memory of you.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC
She is a character perfect
for my work of science fiction,
chosen after much research
on unreliability of reality
as one knows does exist,
it's even more true of her.
In a hurry I concluded,
"What a luck, I chose to write her
as the character of possibility!
then, how quickly
the class I expected of her
went totally to seed.
are we opposites?
Or, is this reality not shared by both of us?
what can one say about a situation when,
my own creation fights against my writ,
No, I am not in the same league as Luigi Pirandello
this is the result when commonsense is delineated
by a hallucinating mind, caught in love net.Zilch.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 11:03 AM UTC
I formally apologize for my constant visits with my own thoughts. I'm not finding what i need to find at the bottom of a bottle or on anyone's lips. My lungs aren't blowing out my venom and I don't know how to breathe in gentler things. But this isn't meant to be a reminder or an excuse; this is meant to be the last attempt at simpler seas. The words that leave my mouth are hollow promises of the words crawling from my fingertips, so please don't hold my mouth accountable for my unreliability.
Many messes ago, i spun you into a metaphor. This past time i told myself that you and i were a ship, but i finally found the flaw in my logic
You were never the ship
I have been drifting around in the dark, and you've been the lighthouse guiding me home.
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
the realm of illusion
not much more illusory than in the physical world
extreme unreliability
impression by the unseen seer
changing forms
glamour
an object seen as it were from all sides at once
the inside as if the outside
inadequate language
frequent reversal
astral light
139
as 931 and so on
capable masters
great hurry and carelessness
all possible forms of illusion
how do i deal with phenomenons like this
few words are needed
death is easier to face than to try and wrap my head around (life)
it's not about seeing correctly, but translating what is being seen
trying to carry my consciousness without it breaking
from physical to astral... and back
possibility of recollections could partially be lost or distorted in the blank interval
experiencing between breaths
the root of this moment to the next
the inevitable now
spirits unfortunately dormant
we'll soon build up the courage
Sep 29, 2021
Sep 29, 2021 at 2:06 AM UTC
What am I
if I can’t give?
What am I if I can’t be
The best of the best,
Top of the peak,
if I won’t kneel at the feet
Of the rest of the world
That’s dry and bleak,
If I can’t climb and
claw my way up?
What can I do,
Who can I be?
If I am not
The tallest be
-ing
In a crowd of giants,
Unreliability
Is a skill or something
To get on
And trample people
like they’re
Ladder rugs
To be
The
highest
one
can
be.
Jul 18, 2025
Jul 18, 2025 at 1:44 AM UTC
...what would they say?
*She's scared.
She hurts, enough to take it out on herself.
She hates herself, her body, her memories.
She is so angry,
But has no idea what to do with her anger
She only knows that she's scared to let it unleash the way anger has been unleashed on her.
She feels ***** and ashamed, for what's happened to her and for not making it stop.
She feels guilty for being such a burden to the few people who she let in,
Who are safe, who care;
Part of her wants to push them away
So they just won't have to deal with her ups and downs anymore.
She thinks sometimes,
Maybe by destroying her body,
She can destroy the negative things she believes about herself.
She has so much she wants to say,
But she's scared to talk about it,
But not talking is killing her.
She is not ok,
Everyday is a battle.
She can't take anymore disbelief, belittling, unreliability, insanity.
Her confidence is broken down,
She doesn't see good or worth in herself.
She needs love and caring…
To be shown love and caring, not told it;
she's heard the words enough and words no longer mean anything.*
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
No sweet sleep, let me linger a little longer!
You are the gas station I need to loiter in
For in you, I'm with him.
Let me stay, let me see his face, let me feel his eyes
False as they may be.
You are my sweet savior; why do you choose to torture me so?
Torture me with dreams of love and desire
Dreams of magnetic attraction and tiger-sharp want.
But what delicious torture it is.
If it is Chinese water torture, the water is the nectar of strawberries
And it drips down to my lips,
Allowing a desperate and fevered taste
But gone so quickly.
Sleep, why did you leave me so?
He was about to fulfill me
About to say he loved me
About to break that tension that was filling my fictional home so
completely.
About to be a dream I could dream again.
Don't do this to me, sandman.
Let me return to that dream,
If only for long enough to get one
Sweet strawberry drop.
Long enough to hear him say it
To hear him show it:
He cares for me.
Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 8:03 AM UTC
Thank you.
Thank you for teaching me what it is like to love someone and hate that same person at the same ******* time.
Thank you for causing me to sit on my bathroom floor and cry so much that I wish I would just ******* drown.
Thank you for making me feel alive. I felt things for you that I had never felt about any other person before. The thought of losing you kept me awake at night.
Thank you for being the reason that reality was finally much better than my dreams.
Thank you for cancelling our plans so many times that I found out the true meaning of unreliability.
Thank you for showing me that even perfect people have flaws, the cracks in your apologies showed me that even if I didn’t say, “It’s fine,” you wouldn’t have made any effort to fix what you did anyway.
Thank you for showing me what it’s like to give forgiveness and wish I never had, you got away lightly with every ******* thing you did wrong, I wish I had screamed at you so hard about how much you made my heart hurt but I still wouldn’t be able to leave.
Thank you for pulling me in with your false words, “You’re too nice.” I never knew that someone could be “Too nice.” Maybe you just couldn’t handle someone who didn’t have the courage to speak up, I’m sorry you couldn’t read minds.
Thank you for walking past me today, you kept your head down as if you had never stayed up late on the phone to me while you talked about how beautiful our future would be.
Thank you for holding my hand and then never coming near me again, I now know what it’s like to crave something so much it feels like if you don’t have it again you will suffocate.
Thank you for fooling your friends into thinking that you rarely knew me when really I know you more than they do.
I know your secrets, I know how you hate your dad, I know your favorite songs, I know about how you've seen way more than you should of , I know the real you. Don’t act like I don’t exist, a smile or an nod of acknowledgement would be enough to make me feel like this whole experience wasn’t a complete waste of my time. I guess I’m just a new addition to your list of strangers who you think don’t understand, but I know you.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 8:49 PM UTC
I began another love story
Except I already knew about this one
I knew it existed
But not that it would make me cry
Plagiarism
Overdraft
Unreliability
Incompetence
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 8:18 PM UTC
When I first thought of your beautiful eyes
Opening up to my waking lids
I expected a certain compromise
A shield against the impertinence of probability
But you shocked me
Your gaze met mine
And in a moment I knew
That every shield of immunity
Every grain of apprehension
Every instinct of war
Had condensed into a transcendental wonder of powerlessness
There was no armor, no protection
From the raging defeat that permeated both of us
Incessantly
In a moment I knew
There is no victory
Without loss
And loss indeed it was
The loss of consciousness, the loss of pride,
The shredding of each morsel of doubt
But ultimately the loss of mortality,
The defeat of time,
Because when your beautiful eyes
Met my waking lids
An eternity had succumbed
And we lay in the ravages of war.
Alone and victorious
Us against the world
Us against space, time and continuum
Despite the unreliability of victory,
One certainty reigns supreme,
There is a war.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 8:11 AM UTC
It's seeping under my skin
Dancing in nothingness between
Flakes
Irreplaceable beauty of harmony
Even with disgusting oily
Flakes
Feels like a drunkard
Living the spring in fall
While it's falling flakes
Flakes of life, flakes of distress
Disappearance of a mandatoriness
It's seeping under my skin
The toxicity of uncertainty
Blindingly bright enlightening
Yet destructively disappointing
Like a cold shower of frustration
Like a suppressed determination
Fakely exhilarating
But depressing in practice
A resonating unreliability
They itch
Stalk you to death
Stuck in a death bed
Going eternally downhill
Still though they're
Still beautiful
Dancing among the flakes
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC