"untenable" poems
Existential crisis
Fundamental flaws
Insurmountable dilemma
Confabulations galore
Indistinguishable chaos
Contraindications
Untenable maladies
Nature’s riled
Abject behavior
Peripheral existence
Satire of reality
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 10:15 AM UTC
Incandescent virtues , yet I'm a drought within .
I read tealeaves in mouldy cups of our tainted futures.
Our wicks that never saw the light, even though burnt out.
Untenable sight that we drank deeply on, but still thirsted for.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 5:33 PM UTC
1293
The things we thought that we should do
We other things have done
But those peculiar industries
Have never been begun—
The Lands we thought that we should seek
When large enough to run
By Speculation ceded
To Speculation’s Son—
The Heaven, in which we hoped to pause
When Discipline was done
Untenable to Logic
But possibly the one—
2.2k
fallow lay in a field, neath soil well over-tilled,
the bones of explanations, excuses, and desperation,
a singular self-destructive but upward thrusted commandment,
compose a poem of revelation,
a poem of destiny and unknown destination
of thee, I write, ashen standing,
with the poker face of a lying son,
before the father confessor mirror,
stand with palms facing outward,
with perfect calm and utter fright
for every nominated error listed below,
when confronted,
hopeless the innocence,
easier now to admit,
with perfect clarity, your innermost
confabulatory familiar friends,
rise to the fire,
first and foremost
belabor not with supposed ratiocinations,
put aside, your ration of
conjured up-for-all, and-all-for-naught excuses,
the prosecutors charges, so thoroughly distinguished,
it disables, speech, vision, all reason extinguished
as the lips and fingers silent move,
the hopeless knowledge of a pardon of 99.9%,
untenable, ransacks,
for what passerby criminal thought
has not resided in your head,
the hearth of who you are?
you,
write of nature, love, celestial notions,
the Etcetera's of life, but to me,
leave the exposure of our uncompressed,
here revealed sinning,
for among those who
unashamedly acknowledge
the intertwining nature of
human failings, and for the balance,
uncap our divine imagery
you write at of those other
nuanced pleasures,
nature, love, celestial notions,
while the sinners wrestle with
the angelic demons of
confrontation and revelation
for your own sake and saving,
do not wrestle with me
for sinners love, welcome
company
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 6:54 PM UTC
Sleep oft colludes with night,
Pulls wool over my eyes—
By announcing itself anon
On my station's platform.
Evermore delayed to reach this vessel,
It refuses to hypnotize a compliant patient
Despite the dated rituals performed
For slumber to thrive—
Prayers chanted in your name,
Darkness donned in your chase,
Silence kept vigil, sung as lullaby,
Consciousness sacrificed for your gain
Yet you refuse to sway me in my cradle,
Yet I lay squirming on your saddle,
Incapacitated by thoughts—untenable
Enslaved for their cause—unassailable
Many a sleepless nights were my penance;
Upon which, one of sleep's commandments
bequeathed...
To sleep—toil to reach the summit;
Inhale the thinned air
Exhaled by a content-shaped mountain.
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 6:01 AM UTC
Love too strong for
those who bear it
is a curse invoked
by a deficit of worth.
It is not enough to
seek validation through
a proxy designated
Heaven on Earth.
With no center of gravity,
no anchor in character,
obsession is the limit
of the capacity to love;
Projecting impossible
desires and untenable
expectations amounts
to blasphemy of.
True love may not be
forever or easy;
parting may never
be pleasant to bear;
Love is not merely
what's pleasing or comfortable;
love is a crucible;
love is not fair.
Those fleeting failures
and moments of error
are chances at triumph,
a challenge to change.
Breaking our boundaries,
ballooning outward:
love is inevitably
savage and strange.
Unbefitting to cling
to the bridge that enables
a star in its wand'ring
to cross the abyss;
To carry the ballast
of vast insecurity
over that chasm,
untenable risk;
Or swallow the poison
of foolish dependence
on whimsical paramours,
obesiance thereof,
To be hung from the neck
by detestable premises,
weak and debased
by untenable love.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
dry as a beggar's over-parched throat
as an over-burnt piece of blackened rye-toast
as the golden sand in Sahara roast
was the air o' the day of the black death-note
as the air crackled with the laughter of death
and claimed the millions as it left bereft
daughters of the earth their heart a-cleft
from the breath of the devil with the head of Macbeth
Houses, untenable, ditched searing memories,
Turned sarcophagi from life and its treasuries
Scorched skeletons of sagas and histories,
Of family feuds, celebrations and victories,
Of open secrets and whispered mysteries,
Years of toil blest by gold sunbeams,
The laughter of babes and the giggle of teens,
Now fractured windows and ash blackened beams,
Skeletal remains of life and its dreams.
Jan 10, 2025
Jan 10, 2025 at 4:28 AM UTC
Cowering, we hide our faces behind capes
Salvage what we possess:
The beginnings of a yawn
Could such an unsuspecting time of year fool a person into feeling more at ease?
Treasured memories are trifles
Chewing away at our eardrums
Pricking our ears with that contentious voice
Impertinent to life
Toward starvation, the fallow, snow covered hills and untenable shacks
Sway
That which has been taken will never be returned
Nothing we can do will save our remains from being stolen by the earth
Dusty bones will dry the Summer sun as wild dogs chew at our flesh
He sits there now, knees toward bare chest
Edging near the frozen water canal
Release
A short, cautionary, nearly hopeful sigh
Jan 21, 2011
Jan 21, 2011 at 8:53 AM UTC
Different places seem the same
And once your down you can't quite explain it, like a fading dream
You're in and then out to preach
To muddle through an imperial speech
Walk unashamed
You play the game
Until the castles breeched
Soldiering on through the blind war with all weather shades and a score to settle.
The air tastes funny yet I ain't laughing
Incensed
What shakes you, resonance
What makes you, persistence
Rainbows but not a drop of rain there she goes again and again
Case it and flash a zippo at your homework inscribed with S.T.U
Time and again the disposable friends recycle themselves degrade
You shook me all night long and as I begin to shake back
Your dust drops
I'm unemployable
Unmistakable
Unthinkable
Undeniable
Untenable
And often incredible
But impossibly unlovable
Love
For no other reason
Like a movement
By the hand
Of a spectacular
Like you did
Cos you could
And you meant it.
Stay away it's just a game we play
Holding you to ransom trying to take a swipe
At fame.
Heavy heads drag heavy legs slowly scraping by
Propped up by the magical
The illusive
Dollar sign.
Holy **** I knew it something's very very wrong.
No matter what we cannot simply play along.
Changing shape from place to place
On the edge of something real
Slowly realising you're running on a wheel.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 1:54 PM UTC
for the sey-hey man
word bird droppings
scattershot sent
disguised neath flora,
a name by any other,
sally sent forth,
never looked back upon
untenable pursuit
GMO words planted in an
untended garden,
man-made wild sent seeds
purée of amputated lesions,
a divorcées convention,
bon mote note comparison,
freely shared, plagiarized,
by-product of a man's waste,
bidding adieu,
but never
au revoir
*let them spawn
more and others,
will love them
better just for knowing
even never
seeing them again,
still and always,
whatever wherever
they ride~write on,
still and always,
I'm in them,
unflinchingly personal,
even if signed by
another's name...*
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 6:38 AM UTC
Snuck in like fog and enveloped me in slumber
Tainting my dreams with every breath
Losing myself as I exhale
Filling me with the truth of desire
Pulling me deeper into the beautiful nightmare-
Turned hopeful longing
For to become a part of you as you breathe me in
Is all that there is
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
I have lost something
sacred.
It is still alive out there,
in the infinity
of objects untenable
and unforgettable.
I thought
I heard it call my name
last night
as my eyelids finally found each other.
This absence knows me too well.
It won't let me
take my mind
off my mind.
If I could only measure
like my strength, then
I would know who
I really am;
and, I suppose, sleep
even less.
Alas, I've found
that
I can't wander
as easily as my mind.
I wish to float
away
from gravity
and other discussions just as grave.
How can I
keep my enemies
closer
than this?
A book once said
that
self-reproach is a
dangerous
thing.
I never read that book,
but
it surely read
me.
Aug 16, 2010
Aug 16, 2010 at 11:33 AM UTC
so it is.
the things you love, you worship,
quiet-like burn you,
returning your favor
with fever.
was innocent, naive.
didn't know the sun could
blister hearts,
you babe,
were my sun,
centric universed.
your hurt,
gift packaged,
disguised as warmth,
went
way way past dumbfounded
surficial flesh.
doc pronounces.
time will heal you,
begging for magic pills
shamelessly.
surgery, I need surgery,
blood transfusion,
excise this poison,
**** it out.
nope, dope,
use your pretty words,
like aloe,
to salve and soothe,
stay away from the
sun of love.
from each poisoning,
traces accumulates,
blisters burst,
love becomes
untreatable, untenable
the danger is not realizing
that in eight minutes,
she, sun goddess,
can travel 93 million light year miles,
leaving you gasping,
eight plodding human years later.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 9:00 AM UTC
I'd act as your maypole
An utterance to stir your soul
Meh day at your whims
Say we have gone riding into the echos even throughout the lowlands
The minstrels bello and promenade
Causing youths to parody
Meh day at your whims
Say we have gone riding into the echos even throughout the lowlands
Within and surrounding the loch
Monoliths reach from the heavens and take root
A parcel yet afore we arrive to bare witness
Honest decades passed now we shall bare witness with joy
In A day meh paramour our party will show and you will know we have arrived at your call
I will burn it into meh mind
The energy of your shape across the horizon
And the heavens beyond
Say we have gone riding into the echos even throughout the lowlands
Within and surrounding the loch
Monoliths reach from the heavens and take root
A parcel yet afore we arrive to bare witness
Honest decades passed now we shall bare witness with joy
In A day mah paramore our party will show and you will know we have arrived at your call
Flowing with nimbus a bird of pray scours midgaurd
Caught in torrents a mariner catches fleeting glimpses of midgaurd
Bird of prey stiring air the torrents becomes untenable
Inch toward shore and grasp it to understand it's only soil
With the potential of our end millenarian revelations come within our grasp
However faced with dread nightmares and the vastness of time
I'd act as your maypole
An utterance to stir your soul
I'd act as your maypole
An utterance to stir your soul
Within and surrounding the loch
Monoliths reach from the heavens and take root
A parcel yet afore we arrive to bare witness
I'd act as your maypole
An utterance to stir your soul
Meh day at your whims
Say we have gone riding into the echos even throughout the lowlands
Within and surrounding the loch
Monoliths reach from the heavens and take root
A parcel yet afore we arrive to bare witness
Honest decades passed now we shall bare witness with joy
In A day meh paramour our party will show and you will know we have arrived at your call
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 11:18 PM UTC
Memory is a game
I lost
long ago.
So tell me
your
story,
your tale of
woe.
"A face
unmatched
with any name;
a scent of
years
in history;
a scene
I once
consumed with eyes,
a scene fades in,
then
slowly dies."
Memory is
a game
that
no one wins.
And everyone loses,
loses
in time.
Nov 11, 2010
Nov 11, 2010 at 4:49 PM UTC
Translucent feelings
Uncertain dealings
Waiting waiting game
Untenable desires
Plump opaque heart
Waif dreams
Dappled time
Smarm sublime
Plot twist ...
Hankering for fresh juicy thinking
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 9:01 AM UTC
Dungeons and Dragons
The world of my childhood
Was so bleak as to be
Untenable. There were good
Times, yes. These were as
Gems set in clay. A black
Muck that oozed from the
Dungeon of despair.
I was so demonstrative
In my need for acceptance
And love the other children,
As kids do, smelled the
Blood in the water. And,
As children do, they attacked.
I was dog meat. Which
Made me all the more
Vicious toward my poor
Baby brother. Which
Made me feel more
Guilty. And so went the
Spiral of despair. Finally
I found the "cure" for
My angst. Fantasy.
I have no idea how
To even begin to tell
You about my fantasies.
I began to rock myself
To sleep at a very young
Age. A self-comforting
Action I acquired from
Babyhood. I also bounced.
On our springy couch, I'd
Rock myself back & forth
So as to bounce myself
From the back of it. I'd
Listen to music while
Doing this, and fantasize
Of being in lands beyond
My ability to describe here.
It would be too time
Consuming. But I was
Heroine of my
Daydreams. Beautiful.
Wise. Immortal. Like
One of JRR Tolkien's
Elves. I loved his books.
I devoured fantasy
Stories. And absolutely
Loved dragons.
I started drawing
Painting at a very young
Age. And the dragon was
My greatest source of
Inspiration. He was the
Catalyst which brought
The fantastic brew to life...
...and nearly destroyed me.
There's an upside to all
This, folks. The dragon is
Satan. He's the author
All addiction, pain and.
Suffering on earth.
Well. I know his secrets.
And I aim to *expose them
One... by... ONE!*
SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/27/2017
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 4:07 AM UTC
"...if a way to the Better there be, it lies in taking a full look at the Worst." — Thomas Hardy
Union desires the ideal.
The ideal, being untenable, victimizes the real.
The real as victim is melancholia.
Melancholia, then, is the loss of the ideal.
The ideal, never being real, is the phantom,
The phantom that confers melancholia.
Lay the phantom? O, Buddhahood
In The Land of Ubiquitous Technology and Reason,
You yourself are now the phantom —
Laying the phantom becomes the phantom.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 5:53 PM UTC
intensity
tension
untenable
tender
beaten
tentative
contend
tenacious
pretence
tent =
100
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
The untenable darkness connected us;
a language of alienation
native to our inspirations,
twisted.
Swirling, we took residence
in untapped soil,
imposing a culture of transformation
aligned with radical forms of exploration:
a bounding endeavour to the Mother Sun.
Everything that was
breathes through this moment,
this present,
and what will be
is stuck there,
forever.
Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 4:27 AM UTC
Do you have more past than future?
Count the cost using receipts for the friends you tried to buy
In like a lion…..out like an empty sail on a ship in a bottle just above the surface of the blue glass sea
A loan now to buy the moonlight is all I need but don't shine on me, or me, don't shine on me
Doctor the report. Makes yes' no's and no's yes' and let's pretend in the end it's AOK
Time was on your side but that was yesterday
I’m thirsty and tired and wired and worn.
Shake me
The dust drops
I'm unemployable
Unmistakable
Unthinkable
Undeniable
Untenable
And often incredible
But impossibly unlovable
I don’t have the patience to wait for this world to turn I want off
Gonna watch what happens for a while from a mile high
Sick of doubt and misplaced anger leading me alone through danger
Watching weighing possibilities to where could I fit in with ease?
Nowhere seems as good as any, a room for me to sing to many
Or somewhere new where I could go, a place for me to lay low
Either way those faces fit and that’s why I must escape it.
Practising lines from time to time behind a midnight moon
And waking up on ****** sheets inside a darkened room.
Shelves hold books I've never read
Wade through air and bite to breathe
The legs I see, not sure they belong to me
Hands wave.
Things don't fill
They empty
They're put in hands that wave
Carried by legs that aren't mine
Just because
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 5:19 PM UTC
Father comes to me in dreams
a night phantom with conundrums I never
solve in the light of day
still he is there, lurking, locked
in memory's vault--a safety deposit box
for which I have no key
but who I have chosen to be
is an untenable version of a me
he will never see
for a dead man did not truly write
my script--he's not even watching
as I walk upon the stage
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 5:24 PM UTC
You skip through my mind
Every second
Half way then to the extreme
And then it goes back to normal
With your unrivalled spirit
Untenable, you daunt around
Your playfulness and optimism
Giving my life an aura or freedom
With every step on the nature's vein
You rouse a feeling of an unbridled passion in my mind
Roaming about exploring jungles of
my innermost thoughts
Influcing me and my psyche with your cheeky demeanour
And I know that I'll be in debt forever
Because of your unquenchable love and heartiest grins
You little monkey, this will be the way to our humble plight.
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 11:38 AM UTC
I belong to here and now,
but present in eternity for sure;
such duality is untenable,
which one , tell me physicists, real?
Jan 3, 2012
Jan 3, 2012 at 9:10 PM UTC
Divisive, abusive, hollow and torn,
Our politics broken through anger and scorn,
More pointing of fingers, of turning one's back,
Is this the new norm, our thorny new track?
What happened to thinking before all those tweets,
Like manicured gardens torn up by rough cleats,
The skill of debate, of viewing both sides,
Bridging that gap from all which divides?
Conviction and Passion bedfellows at times,
Are often the cause of unspeakable crimes,
Opinions do matter but where the heart rules
Indiscriminately steals the most precious of tools.
Reason and empathy, knowledge and tact,
Not impulse and odium and that's a firm fact;
One road may be windy, the other dead straight,
But both may yet lead to the very same gate.
A viewpoint reminds of an infant just born,
It develops and thrives if loved not forlorn,
Tended and taught by the many not few,
For that kernel of light to shine brightly through.
Balanced and just, open to thought,
Opinions conceived and not merely taught,
An untenable vision, an improbable dream?
It takes but the thinnest of wedges to open a seam.
Aug 11, 2021
Aug 11, 2021 at 5:15 PM UTC