"unsuited" poems
Let's get down to business,
To defeat the bad ones,
Did they send me daughters?
When I asked for sons...
You're the saddest bunch I ever met,
But you can bet before we're through,
Miss, I'll make a man, out of you...
Tranquil as a forest,
But on fire within,
Once you find your centre,
You're sure to win,
You're a spineless, pale, pathetic lot,
And you haven't got a clue,
Somehow I'll make a man, out of you,
*I'm never gonna catch my breath,
Say good-bye to those who knew me,
Boy, I was a fool in school for cutting gym,
This guy's got me scared to death,
I hope he doesn't see right through me,
Now I wish I really knew how to swim!*
To be a man,
You must be as swift as the coursing river,
To be a man,
Need all the forces like a great typhoon,
To be a man,
Need all the strength of the raging fire,
Be mysterious as the dark side of the moon!
Time is racing towards us,
As the bad ones arrive,
Heed my every order,
And you might survive,
You're unsuited for the rage of war,
So pack up, go home, you're through,
How could I make a man, out of you?
To be a man,
You must be as swift as the coursing river,
To be a man,
Need all the forces like a great typhoon,
To be a man,
Need all the strength of the raging fire,
Be mysterious as the dark side of the moon!
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC
In sooth,
A suit suits me not,
Nor does a suit soothe me a lot.
I am no snoot,
But it makes me feel like a brute.
After a pursuit, I did find out that
a suit is definitely not smooth;
Oh, shoot! It feels like a layer of soot,
Probably like a bag of jute
Without the color of Groot!
I shall no longer hoot about my suit
As I always scoot up to fruitful roots,
But y'see, this poem bears no fruit.
What is that you say? Season 6 is en route?
G'bye, I'm off to watch the Suits.
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 9:47 PM UTC
prepared for any kind of fight; rifle, helmet, knife, even glaring teeth
she comes at me like I'm a hive of bees
but who can blame her, after all, who's really adequately prepared to handle me
she only cuts shallow and jabs, never stabs for the heart
unlike me, she won't **** unsuited to play that part
she's a survivor, she heals, I'm a comet in it's one bright radiance before breaking apart
anxiety makes you shudder like a dump truck coming down a bumpy street
depression dictates who you call, when you work, what you eat
if you're not bipolar then i'm afraid the three of us will probably never meet
punching clinched fists through doors is a cheap circus trick
but taking out the anger is dangerous without something to hit
because it pours it up, tries to drink itself down, and drowns everything around it
my remorse stiffens me in bed next to her sleepless I wear the darkness, rigamortis and black suit
I feel my poison wilt her, bend her stems, dull her colors, shrink her roots
i have burned all the wood in her pile just getting started a fire the size of my selfish pursuits
carrying sandbags roped onto me one parent and sibling at a time
dragging the chains of days barely survived still hooked into my skin like the other memories of their kind
I stall her pace, hold her back, make her trudge uphill, I make her climb
but her undaunting patience somehow persists in her, in me: still, calm waters sublime
She comes at me like I'm a hive of bees prepared for any king of fight
only wanting to save me, to heal me, to give sleep back to my nights
bread for it, I show teeth and cut for blood and she continues to be the definition of grace in my life
Apr 26, 2012
Apr 26, 2012 at 1:12 PM UTC
Anger soaks the room abruptly,
I'm thinking of you.
Cleaning out my black bag
I find my tarot deck, waiting
in its green tin tomb.
I shuffle and deal across
the face of one of the paintings
I've been working on,
a red face scratched out.
The brown lid of night
hinges closed hard,
and lamps take up the slack
with yellow spittings.
I draw the Tower,
the Ten of Swords,
the Hermit.
Past, present, future tenses,
all corrupted.
But who's surprised?
I derailed it all myself.
Only the cat,
the palette knife,
and the lonely guitar
bring life to days
made thin with the grim
solipsism of therapy,
intolerable solitude,
and the conviction
that I am unsuited
for all of it anyway.
Of course, sometimes
the depression rots away
back into the sickly loam
where it first bloomed.
It's replaced by the mocking
low-key mania that howls
half-hopes, that each throb
like a throated singing bowl
combined with the profane
drone of an air conditioner.
In those moments,
things get done.
Bills get paid.
I reach out to other people,
breach the indifferent yawn
I feel between each of us.
I splurge, scrape a stool
up to a bar, borrow
an acquaintance for an hour,
or else drink hard liquor alone
until my teeth sing and drown.
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 10:03 AM UTC
Difference meant crosses
connecting lines of diffusion.
Anak, there was a time
your last name - carried
but prejudice will follow.
Our immigration,
garnered tailored unsuited
ties to our beautiful pearls,
progress adapts singularity,
a strength for your identity.
Relief, from fastened shades
opens palms allowed to dry.
Soiled worth will blossom
your ancestry will procure
self-reflection, and will spread.
Speaking our language
turned to novelty stones.
But a divided tongue
will speak the same good
bringing you respect.
Wash your hands, pray before
eating with your hands.
Appreciate the feel of the rice
each grain has it’s worth,
the pull from our hull.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 11:50 AM UTC
Your soul is shaken by the turbulent seas
A ship unsuited for the journey
You dream of sleep in safe harbor
Salt water washes your tears.
Without a course you drift
Upon the waves
The last drop of fresh water
Has moistened your lips
Seeking the guidance of the stars
You gaze upon the skies
Dark clouds obscure your view
And send you to the maelstrom.
In the darkest of the muddy night
A ray of light stirs your soul
The clouds have parted
And Polaris appears.
With hope abandoned
You glide toward the light
Blind faith fills your sails
And leaves the storm in your wake.
Fatigue and failure grip your spirit
You are overtaken with sleep
Your nightmares are quiet
And you float peaceful like a gull.
Was it the light or the heat
That stirred you at dawn?
Calm. Steady. Warm.
A harbor safe from the sea.
That faulty compass at your feet
It was so foolish to trust
Tossed overboard, it disappears
Quietly like your past.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC
'Consumption'
Once upon a time she believed in everything
Tried a little or a lot
of anything she was exposed to
Wrong didn’t exist
Some things were just unsuited
to her particular tastes
But faith and followership
are equally slippery slopes
and soon wrong wasn’t the issue,
because nothing was ever right.
Truth didn’t come in a bottle
or a box or a tin
it didn’t sit on a knife’s edge
or whisper from inky pages
or wobble in on shaky legs of sound
Right and wrong merged into
a mass of general indifference.
It began to seem that perhaps,
just perhaps
the very idea of truth
was mere fabrication
a carefully woven tapestry of entrapment
designed to subtly coerce the masses
into a single file line of submission
She was ashamed
because she was once a great consumer
of just those things
that now seemed so false
Reality was her defeat.
the end
Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 6:42 PM UTC
Birdy, mind your ears: my howls dash the desert’s edge
My passing gusts will matt your feathers fair and faint
And scratch your eyes of liquid soul with grainy kiss
And gentle downy is unsuited for the desert’s bipolar breadth
Accompanied by what I fear is desperate, decrepit depth
Yet you flutter further in the flats, breaching the jagged heart-planes
Doleful dabs of curt dismay smatter some sodden planes
The wrenching, soaked, woolly pelt fumbles at the edge
And he hopelessly attempts to slow his slide into the depths
The depths ****** in dew to make heaving paws faint
Paws drowning in imbued imbalance: my broken flooded breadth
Washed out and faded just short of amber kiss
Who does he yowl at night to kiss?
A range of mismatched capricious planes
Breath for miles of biome breadth
Between each bound a splitting edge
As fate would weave, his heart is faint
And craves impassioned, tender depth
Perhaps the hiemal hillsides bear a greater, sanguine depth
Beneath the snow are pines to smell, daffodils to kiss
Amid the pungent, frigid, fear the air contains a faint
Hint of something sweeter there, buried in the planes
And when the blunt ice trickles warm, beneath the caustic edge
A range of life of a new kind: unbeguiling breadth
Who forsaw the vanguard hunch of birds and bears for breadth?
Not I believed that birds could dive in deserts and find depth
Not I believed that bears could whet love from sharp edge
Not I believed, thus almost missed, fate’s gentle ghostly kiss
Not I believed and thus I blew dark clouds across the planes
Not I believed in him, thus it was I who was so faint
And in the meadows lions crawl and crocodiles faint
And happily, with wherewithal, the boa to gaur breadth
All coexist in mystery perplexing on placid planes
Burrowing through sand and snow, birds and bears find depth
Jumbled earth and tumbled thoughts, a misty morning kiss
Stitches the bipolar planes and hems the obscure edge
Across the crystal planes you see their trusting dives to depths
The bird’s faint singing drifts through waves as it explores the breadth
The bear’s protective kisses peek just beyond the edge
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
I need to grow up but I don't know how
When my feet hurt I ask myself
Could that be? At this young age I have already begun to
dilapidate?
Or is it just my brain weakening,
Panting, airless, reluctant -
I was not made to live this life, nor were you -
My mind says my legs were meant to
Traverse natural fields
And gape without scrutiny at the beauty
of things around me
So my body tires walking on tiled hallways
Because it knows better than I
As to what this body was cut out to be -
But it's specifications don't fit
any of these multitudes of molds
So I cram myself into angles and
depressions unsuited
because it's for the best
it's for the betterment of society
it's so I have a place on this earth -
But I already had a place, we all did,
Now our bent forms are unrecognizable to
Our Mother who wonders
"Why would my child pervert itself
out of shape from its beautiful form?"
Through what common pair of eyes do we all see and
at what point did we decide
our own couldn't show us truth?
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 2:21 PM UTC
I wear my heart up my sleeve
Where most can’t see
Just far enough away
To give it some reprieve
From the beatings it takes
beyond the beats
it makes
and those hands that
just want to take
instead of give
**** instead of let live
so I hide it away
from the unsuited
hearts so convoluted
reaching and grabbing
poking and stabbing
leaving scars
instead of love
in their passing
piles of pain
amassing
an ache left
everlasting
waiting for the one
who brings peace
instead of taking
a piece
so up my sleeve
the waiting
and the wanting
hide beneath clothes
both daunting
and haunting
for that one
soft and lovely
boundless sweetness
floating above me
patiently anticipating
the kiss that brings
an end to this
waiting
for my wish
to grow into
fruition
my soul’s mission
accomplished
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 2:54 PM UTC
your face is like marble
perfectly contoured to reflect your state
an evershifting masterpiece
like sand flowing through an hourglass
time slipped away
and your hair like a beach on a crisp day
your voice like a warm stream
my limbs long to intertwine themselves with yours
like the twisting knarls of an overgrown cedar
growing into one another
and though grainy through pixelated screens
you are beauty
in unconventional ways
the words i use to describe you are mundane
and unsuited to yourself
though the english language could not have the capacity
to encapsulate your beauty in any words
and you are
beautiful i mean
i see you
and i cant believe that i am the one to give you butterflies
when tones buzz
and miniscule letters are recieved
i physically cannot contain my feelings
i do a lap
jump up and down
run anywhere
to try and come to grips with you
and how you feel about me
because the butterflies that i feel when i even think about you
fill me to the brim
and burst out in a sigh
or a squeal
some physical reminder of the way you make me feel
like a young mountain range
we are still shifting
and evolving around one another
your magnificent peaks shadow my jagged cliffs
and our plates push up against one another
creating friction
in the best of ways
but the best of days
are made even better
by simply reminding myself that you are a wireless connection away
an entity to feel emotions towards
because your beauty
will always be real to me
and if i ever forget to tell you
please read this poem
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 4:01 AM UTC
Unbelievable are the names I have:
Unable
Unworthy
Unfashionable
Unattractive
Unhappy
Unsuited
Unwanted
Undesirable
Unbearable
Unlucky
Untalented
Unaware
Unreliable
Unsettled
Unwilling
Undecided
Unqualified
Unkind
Unknown
When all I am ever is Unprefixed.
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 12:06 AM UTC
Seamstress of my fate, behold:
This side of my is crass and cold,
Is not unsuited for a war.
Oh, seamstress of my fate, therefore,
Could you conceive a way or two,
Concealing things that I could do,
Veiling vile things that I could say.
Oh, seamstress of my fate, I pray!
For when you sow this future now,
I would not want this side to show,
Would want a dress of flowers dried,
Where not one stubby blade could hide.
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 11:15 AM UTC
Dear Dad,
I've been dying to tell you that I'm gay
tucked away in a box of my childhood toys
you'll find almonds, cashews, and unsalted peanuts
your first son and I are not alike
my favorite color blue, his green
synchronized like gears in a clock
I too am drenched in sweat
I have your oversized cotton t-shirt on
the one I wear to sleep
I rewatch the video I recorded of Gustavo and I
locked and intertwined
in a shape that's unsuited for your eyes
the same blood running through you
your father and his father
is the same blood that runs through me
resilient, strong and wild like an untamed horse
Hasan, our shared name, my signature
it's similar to yours
Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 5:23 PM UTC