Best Abuses Poems
i sit lonely.
the crowded restaurant is thick with sound
i pick away at it
moving back into the stagnant silence
of my own comfort
the air is nasty here
it telepathically abuses my thought patterns
still
a far cry better
the loud hum of food
marching to the vacant crowd
suffocates me
a decorated plate joins my table
strikes a conversation with the cutlery
there is no call from the governor
as i attack my food
fork knife teeth
bites later
a paper plane flies in
a swipe of my plastic
makes quick work of the bill
i exit
seemingly quicker
than human eyes can catch
i hate this part
i parley my way through
too many bodies
all the while staring
at a concrete maze
never making eye contact
with a single soul
i do that
i always do that
keep the entrances of my being
away from those who would stare me down
attempt to engage me in conversation
with a desire to lock eyes
if they looked in they would burn
i’d be held responsible
FINALLY
home
the only environment i feel safe in
my therapist will be proud
almost an hour today
assuming i see her again
i am covered in my own dew
my breathing sporadic
i line up an array of pills like good soldiers
as i continue my attempt
survive another day
it will take hours to regain my sanity
all the while questioning the purpose
why must i assimilate
back into the dungeons
they call society
it behooves me
find one reason
join the rank and file
plug back into a horrendous grid
i had escaped
i
grow
weary
of
my
own
thoughts
ignore my voice
slowly regain my footing
plant roots
hope they’ll take hold
attempt to return
into the vacuum of my existence
i sit lonely.
not like a Christian, but like a victim.
I prayed like a woman afraid,
afraid I was the sacrifice to his vice.
I would lie awake then. I lie awake now
as my heartbeat hammers
my breastbone like a blacksmith,
I remember… I remember
in a pale cringe, I sniffled. My blood polka-dotted
a white floor that smeared an inkblot of me.
A split lip, half-wit tamed by the maim of his fist.
His madman’s magma buried me,
a lingual lava flow that hardened as it cooled.
My sense of self turned to obsidian. I fractured.
Tears slashed like shards. I bled self-esteem.
He preyed on me
as I prayed to him like he was a god.
Please forgive me! It’s all my fault! On my knees
I was dead to myself.
He split my skin. Stripped me to my bones.
His vulture needs I remember.
My emotional remains he savored,
flavored with backhands and vodka bottle bottoms.
I seethed in sour juices of moonshine abuses.
I counted moons and contusions. I counted
each stitch needled through my skin.
My heart quilted with clichés;
I love you. I'm sorry. It'll never happen again.
I seized my breath so's not to moan or implode.
As I exhale I remember
I fantasized of blasting him to the belly of Hell
when I’d usher vengeance inside our back door.
Reaper’s reckoning when this battered forget-me-not
shattered his bones with buck-shot scatter. Damn!
I’d have paid the devil for a jail cell to be free.
A candlelight-night bruised by cruiser lights:
I remember I prayed like a victim to 911.
Oh God! Please God! Help me! He's gonna kill me!
I pressed bleeding heart flowers between diary pages,
diary pages without words cried to be heard.
Concussion dreams panic my pulse, dilate my eyes!
Oh, dreamless sleep, grant me deceased peace.
Until night hags of nightmares die
I will remember...
Abuses hurled and Alcohol gurgled,
In the vortex of confusion
And blurred vision.
Intoxicated pleasure from surreal leisure.
Fooled senses and numbed conscience.
Wiped existence of love and kindness cuffed.
Lashed at the one he once loved.
Cringed and clung to her faint faith.
She and her cursed fate.
Exploding paroxysm of hate.
Her whipped ivory skin and bleeding lips,
Eyes with teary tinge,
Has the harvest moon singed.
Stillness of the night, pierced
By memories of bitterness-sodden years.
"Hurt me not", she trembled with fear,
"let me live for my girl, dear".
The cries colored skies crimson.
Just one reason--Her little girl.
As her daughter stared
With flaming locks and eyes that flared.
By Angom Amy (15)
You think you know him
But you refuse to see
The artful way he abuses me
He captivates my mind
He traps my soul
He pins my arms to my side
When I tell him just to go
He uses knife like words
To slice me with his tongue
His eyes are like daggers
Causing me to come undone
Harsh fingers press against my face
Proving im a Doll
To play with as he choses
Or throw against the wall
He taunts with cruel intentions
To make my heart bleed
Playing Devils advocate
Once I cry myself to sleep
Soft and bitter sweet
In an instant he turns to stone
A heart as cold as ice
Mean down to the bone
But you refuse to see
You glance the other way
And listen to his words
You join in his game
Each word he says is now a jest
Each look is a mistake
And when he grips painfully
He just meant to play
Close your eyes to his work
It really is an art
But no matter how you spin it
Inside he is an abusive jerk
I walked with ease
a comfortable moment after sunset,
I wore clean, comfortable skin
and comfortable, casual attire.
Past glowing shopfronts
on clean, wide pavements,
warm evening slowly darkened,
a good time would be had by all.
I don't care much for the parties,
but good company is good,
just as good as a good time,
a good time would be had by all.
Until the unexpected ambush.
Glowing shopfronts vanished.
Clean, wide pavements grew dark and dirty.
I was ambushed by a gang of forgotten abuses.
I was helpless against the mad mob,
they beat me to the ground,
stomped on the back of my head,
printed my face on the concrete curb.
Broke my nose and some ribs,
bust my skin wide open,
tore my favourite, crisp black shirt,
took my wallet and my watch.
After a few bleak moments, humiliated and alone,
I scraped my sorry ****
from the sneering ground
and continued on my way.
A good time remained to be had by all,
a less good time for me,
but good company would be almost as good
as the good time had by all.
20th October 2018.
(THE GHOST)
In the naked eye,
Pure death approaches!
Incredibly hollow, kick the bucket long ago
No, whiff nor smell when “THE GHOST” is around
Abuses the whiteness, in which exists inside these sheets
It can be the cost and the intellect of your overdose in question
Go ahead and dig your own grave
I have already commissioned your headstone
You won’t be remembered,
The aftermath this GHOST creates
---will leave you babbling, even in your crate
This is that whiteness you do not want to feel or taste.
Once he or she was a nobody, is now “The Infamous Ghost!”
The one that lives inside your ‘Indian Hollow Walls.’
The Ghost’ leaves heat behind in your room.
It prowls around,
---leaving you within a near death experience every night.
This' ghost left behind will wreak mayhem on your soul,
Shh! Listen to your walls, they speak quite a routine.
Once you see yourself with broken wind, and watery eyes.
Do not believe this is your maker in the process.
‘The Ghost’ with eyes so potent compels a numbing stare!
If there really is such a thing as reincarnation,
Then you had better remember
--- that this ghost was a ghost in its own past life
‘The Ghost’ can have you breathing out tears so intense
Leveling your entire room with fear
Not even your frightened watery eyes will salvage your soul
Nothing will come in handy before you expire.
‘The Ghost’ will incinerate your obituary.
…READING…
“There is nothing to Fear but Fear itself! “By Franklin D. Roosevelt!”
That, and the fear is all this fearless 'Ghost will leave behind.
Everlasting rational fear.
-Happy Halloween-
Daughter of the King
Young woman.....
You are
First and foremost and always
A daughter of the King....
Molded and created with
delicate architecture and
infused with notes of mystery
and beauty,
Fiery passions and gifts that
slowly unfold
Like a flowers petals opening in
due season
With the right amount of
sunshine and rain
You bring vibrancy and color
like lilies to a valley.
You are a daughter of the King
Designed with the remarkable
ability to give birth to life
A life that is every part you,
every part of a man, and every
part a unique creation
You are a daughter of the King
Designed to shine and bring joy
Your strengths to compliment
and your weaknesses to be
complimented
You are not an accident
You are not your past mistakes
You are not cell tissue
You are not what people may
have called you
Labels they have contrived
Or grave abuses you have
survived
Your name is not Stupid, ****,
Good for Nothing, Prude,
Pathetic, or Weird
It is not Loser, Lunatic,
Incompetent , or Waste of Time
It isn't Drama Queen,
Desperate, or "be seen but not
heard",
Your name is Fearfully and
Wonderfully made
Though
You may feel lonely at times
You're not Forever Alone
Because you are Never Alone
You may feel weak at times
But you are not your
achievements or your failures
You Are
A daughter of the King
You do not need to hide the
delicacy of your femininity
behind callous walls of
protection
The King will watch over His
kingdom
And He will fiercely defend and
provide just what you need
He knows every hair on your
head, every desire and every
dread
He knows and sees every tear,
every frustrating sigh, and
smiles at every victory.
You are a daughter of the King.
You are beautifully and
intricately woven by the same
hands that put the atoms and
the universe in perfect order...
You are the apple of the
Creators eye
Never duplicated
Though some may try
Failing to see
That they too are carved in
uniqueness.
You are in this world
But not bound by it
Given wings to take flight
To soar among the heavens
From where your essence was
breathed from
You are
A daughter of the King
Bravery is the father of fears
Dreams are distant cousins of nightmares
Hope is the sister of prayers
Every night shame lays down and gets screwed by despair
Pollution abuses Mrs. atmosphere
It's a battle between personality and reality
But obviously nobody cares
Maybe it's because big tough is the uncle of little scared
Planning is deeply in love with prepared
Procrastination is the biggest enemy of determination
Ignorance is jealous of realization
Sometimes strength can get sneak attacked by temptation
Silence can never defeat a great proclamation
When the brain disagrees with the heart
The body dies of complications
Love your self...
Tropical quadra plateau, Amazing bright sunny,
Glided waterfall Carrying happiness in their gunny.
Long nodding flower's joyously plumed,
Everbody waving happily, the herald bloomed.
Eureka, I love this heaven on earth!
Hazy perished hills, houses trenching at the outskirts,
Swaning over to the fluctuating peak of mountains, roosted with struts.
Orchid waftured, Clinging on to the cluster of flowers,
Precipitated rain was about to shower.
Gosh, it Stimulated my soul!
King of beast, sucking the sweet tempting fragranced juices,
Solitary alienate species including Honey bees mused badly abuses.
Fluttered wings, Struggling with them, Leisurely travelling my journey.
Fitnessed physically as if I am in an defensing army.
Situation turned to be horribly muddle,
Tremendously, I wanted to sort and excitedly cuddle!
Proud to have an Airfoiled wings of mine,
Antennate feature you prissily shine.
Rainbowis passion lying inside me,
Resourcefully mingled with music and dance, happening besides me.
Whoa,People got entranced!
People jeopardize the innate beauty,
Relishingly wanna do my duty.
Actuating my arms, Ventured to fly high.
Intended inspiration wanted to reach the sky.
Weaving the web spiderman thirstily trying me to catch.
Escaping from them I ran, prevented myself from getting snatched.
Ohhh,They had a Hostile faction accord!
Nature's beauty aspiringly propelled me.
Blowing wind, tactily sensisizing my skin,
Blushing cheeks, spilled the bean.
Nocturnal creatures will wake in the dark,
Aerophilically dangling around the shruby bed,before they bark
Stopping by sayonara, continuing my next stigmatic destiny!
By Madhavi
Shadow Play
While Freud sits at the mind end of the couch phallus in hand
shapes others’ dreams in unspoken imposition ‘must-abation’
analyses abuses his daughter in metaphorical incest projects
his own aggressive sexual drives and neurotic megalomania
Jung after killing the father figure sits with and under shadows
gathers the zenith of clouds rays collects collective conscience
unconsciousness retrieves ancient symbols propagates mythical
archetypes to archetypical conclusions reflects tainted sunshine
He forges gently I surmise poles and vaults of contradictions
opposites polar juxtapositions seemingly un-mutual mysteries
and ponders light and darkness tearing torn apart thus healing
in the complementing contrast of void change completeness
Where Freud posits polymorph perversity bit by sexual bitter
sweet bit in a bid for so called science of mind over matter Jung
morphs perpetual change crafted and cast through a different
lens admits to poetic licence narration oral traditions and growth
******** in mind not of the ***** castrated in fear not envious of
phallic dominance over clitoral defence wombs groomed entombed
by guilt transgression sexual submission shallow **** oral penile
ossification of flaccid resurrection Jung begs and offers to differ
In complex incomplete never-ending search a path from change to
change and beyond dialectical synthesis played enacted in parallel
processes and progressive psychological drama of a different kind
he much kinder more reflective less regressive and adventurous
Lets shadows erect and paint play dance reflect and move on
16th August
In this small square room of mental illusion,
I look at my reflection in a state of desolation.
I'm not what I am in this state of confusion,
I'm trampled on the ground by my sense of delusion.
I'm a black-hole in the corner of one of my classes,
absorbing all hatred and negativity that passes.
I see no light, nor a glimmer of hope,
what I haven't learnt is the courage to cope.
I need contraceptives for my mind.
Can't bear this cynicism and broken lies.
My thoughts are sown with verbal abuses,
raised by water like the weeds on turf-grasses.
Solitude was my belief in transient relief.
Its not a permanent cure, but just a relief.
When I snap out of it, I'm in the very same shoes,
I'm leached out of my strength, from out of the blue.
Escape from reality has never been an option.
Blacking out on drugs have never been a solution.
The past three years, I have witnessed huge losses,
instead of the results, now I discern the causes.
It might not just be mine, but your life too,
But what the wise men say, is indeed true -
Your deep sense of hurt, builds up your power,
because what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger...
Why vote for governments
That uses you
That abuses you
Confuses you and refuses you
Why vote for governments
That doesn’t respect or defend your rights
And fight with all their might’s
Why vote for governments that are not contrite
And feel their evil doings are alright
Why vote for governments
That steals the meals off poor people’s plate
Yes I know you can relate
You lobbyist and you rich conglomerates
You leaders brought this world to this state
You closed equal opportunity gates
You email-gate, water-gate, racial profile, hate!
You collaborate to devastate by inaugurate debates
And brain washing mandates
You empty and launder it
The treasury’s financial reserves hey wait!
You vaingloriously defend your scandals eh mate
Yeh! You really forced me to explashiate
Against fractured cannibalistic nature politics
Syndromes of “eat ah food” government’s historics
Past and present, you categorize and polarize
Our society for your sooooole benefits
Eh why vote mate?
©Copyright August 27, 2014 by Brian Pierre-Alexander
© All Rights Reserved
A s another day goes by
B ubbles burst with every lie
C agey secrets full of pain
D rip beneath the falling rain
E arnest feelings shorn of pride
F all dejected to the side
G uile abuses self respect
H aughty action for a fact.
I am lost within your schemes
J aded mind and silent screams
K iss of death flows in the air
L anguor presses, hard to bear.
M elancholic; there’s no light
N or a helping hand in sight.
O vercome by lack of hope
P inned by weight I cannot cope.
Q uicksand sucks under my feet
R eaching out to spell defeat
S trength is waning really fast
T his endurance will not last
U navoidable the end
V iolation by false friend.
W as it wise to have my bride
X anthippe to be my guide?
Y et this panic I shall beat
Z en will help outwit the cheat!
------------------------------------
Contest: Abecedarian ~ 2015
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Placed 5th
Looking dead at me in this smeared mirror...
a lost man
tormented
face red
brittle
and teared
stacking excuses
the longer I stare
this stress abuses
my conscience with a glare
a guilty reflection warns
my mind is the prison I fear
as I long to escape
from the hell I dwell in
right here
who have I become?
what have I done right?
crossroads appear suddenly
as fog fills the mirror tonight
darkness owning the room,
prefers I suffer slow
so I proceed with speed
because it’s the only way I know
tasteless stories
flood my life’s hard bound chapters
while this smeared mirror reflects tears
dripping from a face
which was once filled with laughter.
What do I say?
On this cherry day
At my own funeral
Where I execute and burry
The Burdon I once carried
Where I let go
Of the life, I’ve faithfully married
Rest in peace woman of excuses
Who endured others abuses
That never demanded an apology
Or handed a lifeline to rescue me
I put you to rest
Ashes to ashes
I bury the lashes
From the wombs of untruth
Sayonara
Beautiful Liar
Femininity…Of the enemy
I bid you goodbye
Au-revoir
You coward
The regret, guilt, and remorse
Has run its course
Bon voyage
Weakened frailties
That reigned champion in the lifelong fight of
Me VS Me
Grim Reaper
you can keeper
She was a stronghold
I never needed her
The sorrow of my soul
I am let you go
So that I can fly
© 2018