"vociferating" poems - Hello Poetry

"Sweetheart, You lose so much weight" "I'm fine mom, I've already ate" Sedative words that can't extricate Food, Is what I begun to hate. Thin, Thin, Very Thin Left with bones and waxen skin. I'm famished but anxious of the kilos Furtively eating with my eyes, Day by day this is how it goes. Mirror, Mirror on the wall, can't you see? What you show is demising me. Every calorie is a conflagration Stepping into the scale a redundant vexation. Stand upon my reflection again A fat *** is what I see, vociferating of my brain makes me regurgitate in so much pain. Drops of anesthetic mainlining my soul numbers in the scale are reigning without control. Flesh into ebbing, turning acrimony into cuts throwing meals, when everyone shuts All is left is my aweary bones Still it whispers "Not thin enough"

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Apr 26, 2018

Apr 26, 2018 at 1:11 AM UTC

angelka

Anorexia

"Sweetheart, You lose so much weight" "I'm fine mom, I've already ate" Sedative words that can't extricate Food, Is what I begun to hate. Thin, Thin, Very Thin Left with bones and waxen skin. I'm famished but anxious of the kilos Furtively eating with my eyes, Day by day this is how it goes. Mirror, Mirror on the wall, can't you see? What you show is demising me. Every calorie is a conflagration Stepping into the scale a redundant vexation. Stand upon my reflection again A fat *** is what I see, vociferating of my brain makes me regurgitate in so much pain. Drops of anesthetic mainlining my soul numbers in the scale are reigning without control. Flesh into ebbing, turning acrimony into cuts throwing meals, when everyone shuts All is left is my aweary bones Still it whispers "Not thin enough"

22

My Living Nightmare I would play my father’s favorite sonata on my family’s grand piano While he stood watching over me-Every morning to the late afternoon. Voices inside of mind were commanding and As a threatening black cloud became a curtain closing before my eyes, I yearned to retreat to that hidden world of my own. Although the tune I played was somewhat soothing, Firecrackers were exploding inside of my mind- My father was the taskmaster Vociferating his own domineering commands – He was the devil’s advocate and the slave driver ruling my life. Inside of my mind were deeply rooted fears Pain stabbing my heart with every palpitation I can still hear those voices screaming that nobody else could fathom Piercing my brain as would shards of broken glass- As I can still see spiders crawling across the ceiling above me. This is my state of mind that has rudely taken over my life As if I were driving, losing control of the steering wheel and crashing- Schizophrenia is the name that was given to define this turmoil that contains me As I still have memories of lying unresponsive in a hospital seclusion room In desperation hoping to somehow appease my troubled soul. Memories and flashbacks plague me every day and night- As I am playing the same sonata on the grand piano of my dreams I lost my father twenty two years ago His absence has brought me some relief from that never ending trepidation But I still ask myself “what is this lurid demise that has stricken me truly all about?” I believe that demons possessed my spirit before the day I was born- My father believed my state of mind was merely about lassitude and misbehaving- So I would play for him that same sonata on the grand piano he so often yearned to hear- But I still cannot comprehend what went wrong on that journey towards my birth- Whether I look backward in time or move forward- I guess I never will. Claudia Krizay

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Nov 30, 2014

Nov 30, 2014 at 3:21 PM UTC

claudia-anne-krizay

My Living Nightmare

My Living Nightmare I would play my father’s favorite sonata on my family’s grand piano While he stood watching over me-Every morning to the late afternoon. Voices inside of mind were commanding and As a threatening black cloud became a curtain closing before my eyes, I yearned to retreat to that hidden world of my own. Although the tune I played was somewhat soothing, Firecrackers were exploding inside of my mind- My father was the taskmaster Vociferating his own domineering commands – He was the devil’s advocate and the slave driver ruling my life. Inside of my mind were deeply rooted fears Pain stabbing my heart with every palpitation I can still hear those voices screaming that nobody else could fathom Piercing my brain as would shards of broken glass- As I can still see spiders crawling across the ceiling above me. This is my state of mind that has rudely taken over my life As if I were driving, losing control of the steering wheel and crashing- Schizophrenia is the name that was given to define this turmoil that contains me As I still have memories of lying unresponsive in a hospital seclusion room In desperation hoping to somehow appease my troubled soul. Memories and flashbacks plague me every day and night- As I am playing the same sonata on the grand piano of my dreams I lost my father twenty two years ago His absence has brought me some relief from that never ending trepidation But I still ask myself “what is this lurid demise that has stricken me truly all about?” I believe that demons possessed my spirit before the day I was born- My father believed my state of mind was merely about lassitude and misbehaving- So I would play for him that same sonata on the grand piano he so often yearned to hear- But I still cannot comprehend what went wrong on that journey towards my birth- Whether I look backward in time or move forward- I guess I never will. Claudia Krizay

32

I'm rushed out of my house, Torn out of a clean smell, My white floors, It's soon replaced with the smell of burnt hair, And my eyes are a bit clouded. I know I should evacuate, But I can't find my friends, Or family, In this ashen air, The air is silent, Torrid and burly, Dark, I don't know where to go, Or what to do, The space around me is sweltering, And I can barely make out blurs of red and orange, Solvent, I realize the sky isn't silent, But soundproof, I can hear subdued screams, Crying of babies, Vociferating mothers, Agonized friends, And shrill screeches, It all overwhelms me at first, The crumbling destitution, calamity, Because I realize, It had to be my fault, For not running, For not saving anyone, I proved everyone right, didn't I? My friends, My family, They're gone, They've left, haven't they? Seized by this vehement heat, and ****** lava, Frenzied gas, Eliminated immediately, I can tell it's truly nobody's fault, But for some reason, It feels exactly like it's mine, As if I made this volcano explode, I'm paralyzed, Next to you, My kingdom of dirt exploding around us, Gas filling our noses, Next to you, My dearest, suffering friend, And we'll be stuck together, Suffering together, And we meet eyes, Scintillating flames, a pause And as I stand there, watching in horror, I can feel something rather decalescent sink my foot into earth, An acidic silt jogging around it, And I can hear myself struggle to scream into the ozone sky, And the only sight I can see, Is you, Gasping for air, And I can feel the lava overtake my legs, And the vehement of the earth stings, And we're stuck, As our last words blur together, Words of friendship, And words of forgiveness, We forgive eachother, Although it's nobody's fault, But this vehement earth, This nefarious kingdom of dirt, And as we meet gazes one last time, I try to tell you to run, I shove you away, But I only cause you to sink deeper into the lava, I try to tell you again and again, to run, to do anything, But I can't, And my eyes blur over, And for some reason, I can see my breath in the air, One last time, And I'm gone, And so are you, Forever stuck in this rut, Two stone figures stuck in heated earth, Like the figures in Pompei Smolten statues, Shortened apologies, Unable to move, Forever stuck, On this smolten earth.

0

May 9, 2018

May 9, 2018 at 11:20 AM UTC

Ashley_The_Disappointment

Smolten Earth

I'm rushed out of my house, Torn out of a clean smell, My white floors, It's soon replaced with the smell of burnt hair, And my eyes are a bit clouded. I know I should evacuate, But I can't find my friends, Or family, In this ashen air, The air is silent, Torrid and burly, Dark, I don't know where to go, Or what to do, The space around me is sweltering, And I can barely make out blurs of red and orange, Solvent, I realize the sky isn't silent, But soundproof, I can hear subdued screams, Crying of babies, Vociferating mothers, Agonized friends, And shrill screeches, It all overwhelms me at first, The crumbling destitution, calamity, Because I realize, It had to be my fault, For not running, For not saving anyone, I proved everyone right, didn't I? My friends, My family, They're gone, They've left, haven't they? Seized by this vehement heat, and ****** lava, Frenzied gas, Eliminated immediately, I can tell it's truly nobody's fault, But for some reason, It feels exactly like it's mine, As if I made this volcano explode, I'm paralyzed, Next to you, My kingdom of dirt exploding around us, Gas filling our noses, Next to you, My dearest, suffering friend, And we'll be stuck together, Suffering together, And we meet eyes, Scintillating flames, a pause And as I stand there, watching in horror, I can feel something rather decalescent sink my foot into earth, An acidic silt jogging around it, And I can hear myself struggle to scream into the ozone sky, And the only sight I can see, Is you, Gasping for air, And I can feel the lava overtake my legs, And the vehement of the earth stings, And we're stuck, As our last words blur together, Words of friendship, And words of forgiveness, We forgive eachother, Although it's nobody's fault, But this vehement earth, This nefarious kingdom of dirt, And as we meet gazes one last time, I try to tell you to run, I shove you away, But I only cause you to sink deeper into the lava, I try to tell you again and again, to run, to do anything, But I can't, And my eyes blur over, And for some reason, I can see my breath in the air, One last time, And I'm gone, And so are you, Forever stuck in this rut, Two stone figures stuck in heated earth, Like the figures in Pompei Smolten statues, Shortened apologies, Unable to move, Forever stuck, On this smolten earth.

89

Besotted winged pollinators roistering barrage drowned amidst general insectivorous cacophony indistinct auditory signals communicated intermingled with bounteous wafting fragrance midwifed edenic floral pullulation sensate admixture viz colored spectrum amidst unrehearsed extemporaneous orchestral suite bedded lambs amorous ewe man like bleating songs nature all aflutter actively socially vociferating profuse living color rainbow pastiche teeming soundgarden smorgasbord cornucopia ignites mordent Utopian aural swath visual vistas stilling spellbinding spilling riotous carpeted web uniting doubting Thomas's existentialism despite unanswered queries asper diverse modalities each specie evolved to survive despite countervailing destructive forces generating plethora pandemonium ironically promulgating harmonic exemplary convergence Highland Manor concourse aflame with new life parented by instinctive imprimatur anonymous patents now genetic mapping usurped with untold outcome analysis bred crispr discovery Earthlings fiddling glorifies honied indemnity Judeo-Christian kudos leaves of grass kudzo resistance mutation immunizes biosphere once prolific differentiation shrinks becoming monocultural setting virtual stage catastrophe plus food shortage would become global debacle predicated, sans virulent viral and/or bacterial strain renting asunder tripwire unspooling delicate webbed whirl already widely compromised more so since Rachel Carson wrote Silent Spring **** sapiens population explosion pits profligate predilections planet Earth in extremis dire crisis cavalierly dismissed humans in hot pursuit racking up superfluous wealth ***** deeds done dirt cheap - tricking mother nature, who will unwittingly spring scrumptious feeding off scrimmage forcing capitulation or total extinction meanwhile fostering long tall floral inflorescence a composite having sessile flowers apiary abuzz, cuz queen bee can no longer wax bereft of royal jelly.

0

May 27, 2018

May 27, 2018 at 12:35 AM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

Like Daisies On Stalks

Besotted winged pollinators roistering barrage drowned amidst general insectivorous cacophony indistinct auditory signals communicated intermingled with bounteous wafting fragrance midwifed edenic floral pullulation sensate admixture viz colored spectrum amidst unrehearsed extemporaneous orchestral suite bedded lambs amorous ewe man like bleating songs nature all aflutter actively socially vociferating profuse living color rainbow pastiche teeming soundgarden smorgasbord cornucopia ignites mordent Utopian aural swath visual vistas stilling spellbinding spilling riotous carpeted web uniting doubting Thomas's existentialism despite unanswered queries asper diverse modalities each specie evolved to survive despite countervailing destructive forces generating plethora pandemonium ironically promulgating harmonic exemplary convergence Highland Manor concourse aflame with new life parented by instinctive imprimatur anonymous patents now genetic mapping usurped with untold outcome analysis bred crispr discovery Earthlings fiddling glorifies honied indemnity Judeo-Christian kudos leaves of grass kudzo resistance mutation immunizes biosphere once prolific differentiation shrinks becoming monocultural setting virtual stage catastrophe plus food shortage would become global debacle predicated, sans virulent viral and/or bacterial strain renting asunder tripwire unspooling delicate webbed whirl already widely compromised more so since Rachel Carson wrote Silent Spring **** sapiens population explosion pits profligate predilections planet Earth in extremis dire crisis cavalierly dismissed humans in hot pursuit racking up superfluous wealth ***** deeds done dirt cheap - tricking mother nature, who will unwittingly spring scrumptious feeding off scrimmage forcing capitulation or total extinction meanwhile fostering long tall floral inflorescence a composite having sessile flowers apiary abuzz, cuz queen bee can no longer wax bereft of royal jelly.

48