Anesthetize Poems | Examples

Costumes and Laughs

      A mask to conceal
         a costume to hide behind
      A dozen laughs kill the pain
         a couple drinks anesthetize 

      Any way it’s sliced or diced
          a band-aid halts the blood
       Though memory lurks in darkling queue
          to ope all wounds anew

The Confessions of a Tormented Soul

I poison myself to endure the torments of my clairvoyant mind,
A journey littered with catastrophes and irreversible scars.
I chase nightmares I will find in hell,
My face drowned in the fleeting vanities humanity sanctifies.
I am in no rush to honor my appointment with the reaper,
Like a terminally ill patient who still dares to dream.
I am trapped in an asylum where appearances and masks
Are the mirrors of madness.
I burn my neurons with cannabis
To find beauty in the ugliness of my surroundings.
My indelible scars are searing reminders of my insignificance.
I have tamed the violence of silence
To anesthetize my demonic urges.
I trust not in human frailty,
Like a bipolar paranoiac.
The darkness of the furnaces of the bearer of light
Shines deep in my eyes.
I am a solitary soul, persecuted
By its demons and ghosts.
The melancholy of my heart has chained
My mind to the depths of bitterness.
My life on Earth has been infernal torture
Since the day I let out my first cry.
I am compelled to sow the seeds of chaos
In this dimension, to unlock the gates of immortality.
A symphony of blasphemies, to discover every fragrance of freedom.

Changing Gears

Sam sung: "A Change Is Gonna Come."
So many since then. The politics of
pain and gain, all the smashed windows,
the struck dumb widows.

Mind-works unearthing the terminal.
The young riddled with old slugs
turn to the black hooded judge
imploring hands or clenched fists
revolving around forever sad eyes.

Inevitable change leaving town
to seek new ways

to anesthetize yesterday,

drag racing across tomorrow,
a classic Corvette mowing down
fentanyl induced death masks.

Cords drowning in a levee,
saccharine tunes battering brick walls
with a blind and brainless remorse.
The dead have walked away
disgusted with the dying light.

Change is a ‘coming and it looks like
a killer clown lurking in the front yard
of every sane asylum.

Kc's Byrdnest

Keeping flippant thoughts in check 
Convolutions make a schizophrenic toss
blind paranoia into the catatonic tomb
yelling whispers caught in mind cacophony
Rest the head in a drugged-out succor!
Deafen the sententious words – dead -
Nuke the firing adversary neuron!
No aesthetic can anesthetize the thinking demon
expounding beyond the bliss of ignorance
Stewards imagined become abominable ghouls!
Tangles exorbitant unravel contemplation’s nest…


(3/9/2021)

The Mask

Do you synthesize your anger,
do you cauterize the burn

Do you anesthetize the wonder,
as your dreams are drugged and scorned

Is your judgment tempered badly,
with emotion fiery hot

Is your vision colored madly,
by your choices—sold and bought

Does your music play reclusive,
do your words fall off the page

Does your ego feed that last excuse
—a mask you can’t explain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

An a Lesson - Ca

Angels observe in un-articulated anguish from above,
 anxiety afflicted by appalling accelerated ambition of the aggregate  
that redefines the archaic, apocalyptical allure 
 driving humanity to its brink of active self annihilation;
those moments of antiquated adversarial abstractions
 when history goes awry in its accursedness
 revels the atrocious alienation of poverty ignored,
that hidden appetency wherein
 the very acquiescence of its anticipated allure, 
 blinds us in our astigmatism that can anesthetize living well;
 the assuage ascendancy of life's pain and amplified existence
briefly lingers, dies 
 as we absolve ourselves with abstinence
 surpassing the more auspicious moments lost
 when we could have been assertively aggrandized, 
to become
 more augmented humanity.






for John Hamilton's Crazy A's contest
10/30/19





1.  Anguish  2. Awry 3.  Auspicious 4.  Atrocious 5.  Assuage 6. Appetency

7.  Allure 8.  Absolve

Damn the Rain

floodwaters pour out my ears
like some Black Plague fountain
with spitting angels
life can be hard to look at
images spilling into boots
filling with blood and ignorance
everyone a con artist of some sort
on the inside if not the outside
can't be avoided even for saints
maybe worse for them
with their eyelids ripped off
to a ghastly panoply of suffering
that meditation can't touch
that subjective blinding can't anesthetize
we somehow feel guilt for it all
instead of hunting down the guilty
and driving a hand hewn stake
hard into their 3rd eye
we'd rather shrug and justify
duck down a hooker's alley
bake a cake pet a doggy
watch paint dry mop the floor
than roll the dice and
learn to swim in it
like black swans

The Mask

Do you synthesize your anger,
do you cauterize the burn

Do you anesthetize the wonder,
as your dreams are drugged and scorned

Is your judgment tempered badly,
with emotion fiery hot

Is your vision colored madly,
by your choices—sold and bought

Does your music play reclusive,
do your words fall off the page

Does ego kill your last excuse
—that mask you can’t explain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

The Mask

Do you synthesize your anger,
 do you cauterize the burn

Do you anesthetize the wonder,
  when your dreams are left forlorn

Is your judgment tempered badly,
  with emotion fiery hot

Is your vision colored madly,
  by your choices—sold and bought

Does your music play reclusive,
 do your words fall off the page

Does reason kill your last excuse,
—that one mask you can’t explain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

Prompted By a Quote

As an answer to the all too common vitriol and truculence
I seek to anesthetize such behavior with the gifts God gave me
From a mouth that can produce venom flows milk and honey
From a base and vile self seeking "quid pro quo"
Comes the blessed parry of a forgiving heart
When people ask why I don't act as they would
The only response I could ever give is...
"Because God didn't give me what I deserve."

Suicide

Snap chat anonymity, snap chat animosity at life’s inequality and fragility,
Hash tag helpless, hash tag hate,
Snap chat mediocrity, anesthetize against the allure of failure,
Shiver and quiver or seethe at group judgment or insanity.
Hash tag control, hash tag take charge of your fate,
Snap chat pain, snap chat nothing to gain.
No one understands the neural haywire
Caused by ceding control to another’s desire.
Is it the voice in your head or the taunts on the Internet?
Hash tag who cares, hash tag your death will register as a blip in news affairs.
Time to Instagram the moment of mental torment,
Of seeking redress after losing the game of life to loneliness.
Facebook pretense of happiness
To a virtual audience you wish to impress.
Then plan a grand exit with a gun or a plane,
So that others might finally acknowledge your pain.
In life, you were a psychological leper,
Sinking deeper and deeper into a quagmire of despair.
Are you really that rare?
In death, dragging society into your abyss,
May make us scurry by or stop and finally look at what is amiss.

Eternal Breath

With bicycles and a big shoulder sling bag
You were there, at the other side of my fence
Throwing the paper toward me with a smile
Awarded me with a wonder-stricken time lag

I remember, you were ten and I was eight
It was in 1940, our first met
So soon later we allied
And all these times, I always sure that it was truly a fate

I remember, it was on an anesthetize Sunday morning
You put a ring on my finger when I was just seventeen
We started riding our life together in a rollercoaster of emotions 
For years you are my one and only paperboy prince charming

Today, on your grave that is shrouded by Autumn leaves
Knowing that our love surely went on endlessly
I smile and take another breath in the eyes of eternity
A splendor moment, for our memories, far away from griefs




~ Shirley Candy 
Indonesia, 11/05/2013 05.36 AM

Rafting the Paradise

Today, I am a fighter 
Stood on a rusty truck, challenged the breezes in pace
Sensations crawled passed over my skin, blared
Like the troops of sky collapsed upon my face

Steep step on the edge of ravine
Rotten plums beneath my feet
Narrow path led downwards to the valley
Split over the beauty between hamlets and heaven

Above the inflatable boat, I am the captain
Greenish view anesthetize
Still I struggle against the tide
You conquer the boredom just in time

I met those black butterflies
Flew within their complexion highlighted wings
Pink and green as it was depicted in a dream
Amazement  is the secret weapon which you offer

You defeat the rage of our races

Again I need to climb upon my knees
Through the rocks which not stand appropriately
In this hum of stream I yearn it already
Summon me again when you ready to party

Women

Having only mere minutes to skim your sighs,                 
anesthetize the tip of your unseemly thoughts...        
with platitudes for quandaries which fly bye,  
we are so much more than frail flowers you have wrought.

We are the breeze, the muse, the bringer, the envoy          
lending at days end, the tenderest bits of heart
as on the keys or sewing clothing seams with joy  
our fingers never rest 'till days end, from days start.

Our hands grace the garden beds smudged with chlorophyll
and our arms wrap about a naughty childlike pet
then come to rest behind a trusty Parker's quill
for we give so much more with love and no regret.


Poet: Debbie Guzzi
Contest:"I'm More Then What you Thought"

Woman's Work

Having had mere minutes to skim your sighs,                 
anesthetize the tip of teeming thought ...        
with platitudes for quandaries which fly bye,  
we care for you, our frail flowers wrought.

The breeze, the muse, the bringer, the envoy          
lends at days end, the tender bits of heart
as on the keys or sewing seams of joy  
our fingers never rest from the day's start.

Hands in the garden smudged with chlorophyll
or wrapped about a naughty childlike pet
oft rest behind a trusty Parker’s quill
all healing touches given without regret.

Small and strong and full of life, they pour.
A woman’s hands give much to be adored.



*Women inspire me especially my mother.

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