Best Controllable Poems
Sudden and strangely strong
many shocks flood my body
causing muscles to stiffen
in protest.
Does it hurt?
Sometimes.
My mind drowns itself in
electricity without prior warning
causing a myriad of odd seizures.
Each one different from the
last; no seizure is the same.
My memory is not impaired,
I remember every one and
everything around me,
although speech disappears.
People appear scared, not from me
but from what I have – epilepsy.
Many stigmas float around the
condition, many are as false
as the common school rumour.
Still they are believed like an old
wife’s tale.
Epilepsy?
An unwanted burden,
it limits possibilities,
still I have it and so bare
its unwanted scars.
My life impounded and unfulfilled,
epilepsy is a curse without
any hope of a cure,
it’s only made controllable
by a blend of concoctions created
by textbook intellect.
Still my body and soul remain my own
regardless of how hard it tries
to take control,
I remain confident and strong.
Epilepsy?
Dominant as it may be life must
go on and I must continue to grow
and prosper.
This evening I listen to a Rock 'n' Roll band
Their track is Civil War, as our world now expands
To us it's the same size but to others they despise
For the want of greed exists in their killer hungry eyes
Where do I start, to say of their evil spread
A different starvation leaving the world in evil dread
It's not our today's but our yesterdays years
That our history tells us, of our everlasting torn tears
Cambodia, the Lebannon, and Sri Lanka's Indian sun
Rebels who demand better at the end of a gun
Guaetamala and Peru with their Shining Path
Villagers in terror decrying it's ever last
Democracy is our power in it's controllable exist
Like the Shining above, how long will our future paths persist
Recent news in the Arabic World, has taken tyrants by surprise
For decades they have stolen with their torturing infidel lies
I could go deeper and deeper to describe these evils acts
In wanton blood spillage, to increase civil war torn facts
For this is the world we live in, it appears we determine to live
Maybe in our lifetime it will be on our doorstep, we open, our lives will sieve
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-8.php
Dear Santa,
Remember that wish, to spend time with Dragon, you wanted to come true.
Well, we’ve found a way to make that wish, for you, to really, come true.
Now, don’t expect anything to go in a very usual and in a controllable way.
With Dragon, things just don’t ever; seem to turn out simple, in any way.
Well it all started, as Dragon got worried about terrorists, problems, and all.
Yeah, I know they’re no trouble for you… No… They aren’t… Not at all.
But Dragon’s so young, and a touch worried, and as we’ve all come, to know.
He wants, to fly with you, in your magic slipstream, to protect you, you know.
But Dragon can’t fly very far or very straight yet, being only 2 years old, you bet.
And we don’t want him bothering you, or knocking you out of the sky, you bet.
We talked to McRaccoon, in his Las Vegas Dragon show; he too, wants to go.
And you see, his whole bunch of Dragons, want to fly, thru the air, with you, so...
They’ll fly in a V formation; it’ll make a great, thing to see, so you must, let it be!
Our Dragon will ride upon the leader, and others will carry others, please, let it be!
Make-a-Wish children all want to go, wrapped up snuggly with their papa’s so...
McRaccoon will document it with pictures, for every one’s wall, and you did wish…
Yes, for a Dragon meet and greet to start things off, and your elves can help, also!
The Trolls will be there, to help with crowd control, and to get an autograph, also.
To remember us all… Dragon got a St. Christopher medal blessed by the Pope.
The Pope will give it to you, as he blesses your trip, which brings peace and hope.
Oh, and he’ll give you a very ancient, beautiful cross, for the years you’ve served.
Yes, while teaching us how to give, celebrate, and serve… engulfed in God’s love.
I’ll give you a toy Dragon to hang on your beautifully, amazing Christmas tree.
The elves say your manger set there…is truly a sight of wonder, to be seen.
What! You agree! Dragon and all will be so touched, so, Thank you so very Much!
Our Dear…Dear Santa Claus!
you entered my world
through an unopened door
dazzled with my mind catering
to my thoughts I'd wondered
your extreme motive night and day
desperately trying to focus above the old man
whom desires attention unsettling tantrums
while throwing around muscle and mayhem
cautioning my every breath
the cold calm of meeting behind hidden cafe's
nook's of silence while you plot and planned
your next caper my eye's wide shut
I do not belong here an yet
your passion for control again
there I was weeping pleading
for serenity and peace among your wars
old disagreements while you earnestly avoided
conversations of truce among the families
hindering goodness you folded your small arms
and pouted as I glanced at the virgin mary
handing you a prayer card you quickly discarded
throughout your sudden inmmature haste dismissing
of your friends inviting your enemies over for espresso
and stale skoans again I bravely began to chip
my pink nail polish a quiet notion of controllable fear
I'd yet to allow you the pleasure of showing anxiety
really beyond your cold fashionist banned
I suppose simply because you enjoyed bullying
quiet calm helpless me why you found great pleasure
in tampering with my sensitive nature
I gathered I'd opened the door to some kind of debt
you felt the entire world owed to you
kindred malice I suppose as you racketeered
my prayers extorted my smile I watched your
uniquely small hands groping the stone ware coffee cup
eagerly demanding the waitress returns once again
just to endure another insult you tactfully
said under your breath before she nervously
messed up your order happiness was so very
far from you an yet you purposely put on
an artificial sigh of cheerfulness only to lure
more innocent bystanders to your evasive personality
for the sole purpose of owning the right to make
another poor soul completely miserable in you presence
It grips it hurts
It’s hard to work
The pain can be unbearable
The thoughts not controllable
The body aches, the heart beats fast
The agony tends to forever last
The pressure builds you can’t control
The chest beats hard it’s strong and bold
The thoughts keep coming, they do not slow
Day and night it always shows
You hope for peace
You pray for release
As of today it does not cease.
What is fear?
It clutches and binds you;
Its clinch constricts your conscience and gestures.
It degrades and damages you;
Its triumph abolishes your own proficiency to prosper.
It stops and holds you;
Its impeccable knack of holding you still is impassable.
It overcomes and you surrender;
Its will to thwart your approach has you anxious to ensue.
It is burdensome and palpable;
Its load weighs you down and disables your efforts.
It is real and ever present;
Its nearness is felt in your existence as it hides in wait.
It is debilitating;
It is maddening;
It is caustic;
What is fear?
It is controllable and facilitated;
You can clamber over the hindrances it extends you.
It is fallible and erratic;
You can perceive its shifting deeds as it scours for a way.
It is provisional and remedial;
You can tolerate its manifestation or expel it into a void.
It is daunting and probable;
You can be valiant and foretell its vain efforts against you.
It is frail and cognizant;
You can be assured that fear fears itself; it is casually ended.
It is short lived and perpetual;
You can sustain longer than fear, you can evolve as it ruins.
It is ignorance;
It is a curtain;
It is cowardly;
Fear is crushed with the knowledge of the entirety of a state. In these periods of terror we must cast fear in its just position, behind us, and trudge headlong against those who intimidate and threaten the beliefs for which we have battled arduously to safeguard, preserve, and be tolerant of.
Fear is…
Not an option today!
It started with just a hint of smoke,
A whiff that made the nostrils flare,
But raised no alarm.
It was fanned by every little slight
And look
And broken promise
And critical word.
No one noticed
When it finally caught.
The smolder now a flame
Licking up the wall
Of our lives.
It was tame,
Controllable.
Safe.
But it spread.
It snaked its way
Through each member
And no one seemed
To realize
How it rotted flesh
And poisoned air.
It blistered
And peeled way
Our dreams
Our hopes
Leaving scars
And immobility
In its wake.
Walking cadavers
In a gutted world.
The absent minded, the fools, the liars
Filtering all things of what we're fed
Tortured without sense behind desks conspired
Checks are bouncing off the chest of the dead
Thoughts are no longer your own to think
Placed by weapons using silent electronics
The edge where everyone stands on the brink
Looking down, eyes vacant, mind hypnotic
Control is the aim of what's controllable
Those who stand against are delivered their fate
Pawns being misled like cattle it's horrible
To feed Queen Bee and her totalitarian state
Blind those follow not living their own lives
Carrying out deeds masked by puppet strings
Just another worker bee in the Queens hives
Struggling to carry the load on broken wings
Written for Poetry Contest:"Fear Is Liar"
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
01/17/2023
AWARDED 1ST PLACE IN CONTEST
The wind howls throughout the night smashing its power into my night, I hear the
force burst into my mind, such on line with love a UN controllable force.
It howls its might, petrifies my night curling me up in to a ball, it makes me so small ,
I feel the tears run down my face as it crashes through with its might the wind chills
my bones and runs it race to my toes.
he coldness drives into me like a knife of ice, impacting everything it touches and
freezing my core. Inside my tears now turn to ice as I feel the bite of the wind blast
as it wins it race to spread a deadly cold through me.
A bitterness that makes my teeth chatter sweet cold melodies and my nose joins the
course by running its prime liquid down my face, chilling my cheeks yet warmth does
not come and seems so many heartbeats away from the security it gave me.
After the bitterness of the night I wake and seek the warmth of my shower, as I feel
the water hit my cold damage body, I find some reprieve for the moment; I grab
something warm, walk outside in the brightness of the beautiful sun, and try to
forget the loss of my connection to her.
A blue pen, on a white page.
With red and light blue lines,
Three holes and “fuzzies.”
The story of my life.
The story that begins with, and ends with,
Tears.
The story that is filled with pain,
Hatred, love, romance, abstinence...
Laughter, sadness, heroism, and helplessness.
The story that has only just begun.
Who knows where my life will take me?
New places, experiences, and emotions.
But should I rather say “new to me”?
My predecessors have long known these things,
But will not give me the knowledge of success.
Only hope, courage, and inspiration.
The hope to find a path of my own.
The courage to follow it, and
The inspiration to pass it to others.
Why? Succession.. In this life, is from within yourself.
No one can ruin your life,
Lest you be silly putty or Play-doh.
Impressionably, controllable, weak.
I am not molding clay; I am stone.
You, nor anyone else will ever control me.
I am my own, and no one shall ever surpress,
The person I am becoming.
No one shall dare to alter,
The story of my life.
A story unfolded
On a monitor strip
From the laughter when eating Chinese food
To the small talk that ended in an explosive argument
Oxygen still pumping
From regular to irregular
From controllable to uncontrollable
Heart palpitations
Mind racing
A little dose of sedation
To sleep those thoughts
A son's fight with his mother
A mother's fight to breathe
And as he walked away, she lay there fighting for her life
We carry the past with us
We frantically try to predict the upcoming years
Our minds are vociferously occupied
Filled with delusional neurotic fear
To detach from our emotions
Modern man might think is insane
Because to quiet the monkey mind
For many would make life too mundane
So, we move with no direction or intention
We cry about having no purpose or time
We say we’ll do it tomorrow
Unaware, the river is running dry
There's an internal battle raging
We’re all troubled with mental pain
Unaware, the harder we fight
The struggle remains the same
We must learn to let go of the past
Stop concerning yourself with the upcoming years
Learn to live in the moment
You will conquer most all of your irrational fears
Become aware of your emotions
Mindfulness resolves most of life's pains
Control the controllable
This type of liberation is insane
You begin to live life with intention
You create more quality time
You realize, you can only do what you do
Peace, its your new way of life
The battle has been won
Ironically, the war was all in our mind
Personal awareness
Exposes the true enemy for mankind
So, take a deep breath
Listen to the wind blowing through the trees
Right now, this moment
It's all we have, and all we really need
My intellect is what helps me.
I can jump into the purely rational space and deal.
But it's very lonely.
I lived like that for years at a time.
And, we sometimes love an idealized version of someone, the person they projected but aren't.
And maybe they are striving to be that.
Many times they aren't.
But still love still exists, intact.
And only proximity and contact keep it front and center.
Of course there is loving someone and being "in love".
And the being in love, that part is just not controllable.
Like wildfire it consumes you.
And for us dispassionate logical thinkers, it's a rather irrational but heady space to be in.
And for those who can't process emotion in real time.
Well we are more than a step out of pace.
We are left holding the bag when someone emotionally ducks out and runs for cover.
To be emotionally ghosted is about the loneliest place you can be.
Of course they do it because they can't face the emotion either. Even if perhaps they elicited it.
And so its many lonely trails and several lonely tales I have of love gained and lost to time.
Sometimes I know what happened, and sometimes just poof in the wind it was released and gone.
I try not to malign the lover, even if they failed basic human communication. Some can't face the heat. I get it.
But it's why many times I prefer the lonely trail.
Alone is safer, darker but free. Free of all restrictions to be whatever I may be.
For life is just a journey and there are only mere blips of rest along its path.
And chaos will occasionally visit and subject you to its wrath.
Till in the end it takes you.
Till in the end it takes you. Artimus (C) Susan Manley 3/5/24 7:04PM
I oversees my likely behavioral that not controllable or not properly directed by the rightfully owner thats never been exposed to his behavior will not be ashamed to prevail and to acknowledge such ignorance thats awful to his name. In which I will award myself to a trophie thats far not yet been appreciate by my behavior defaults I will try to clear fast with no holdfast haults to my behavior standpoints and digest its guilt of ashamed behavior that was never not missed or made to be alive in such reality statement thats proven. I love to climax and resolutely to my behavior gratitude and surface to a portion of confidence meditate my overly controllable behavior and think to the conclusion of what might makes me overly overdue my conceptions of doing to much in hurting my bad behavior causes and releif through patience and time to heal allowances to the mind circumference. And to write to stimulate the behavior mind settings and fragments.
Nick's sword of mischief is ready,
The thrusts to be ever steady
For those he is sure are heady,
Now controllable, soon an eddy...
Nick's challengers need steely sword,
Until they accept a Made Lord,
Palm wine has failed with its swell gourd;
No one has ever pleased a horde.
Nick shall reached throats slash with his sword,
Now it's without doubt the Spring Board
For proclaiming himself First Lord
His sword at the back of his Ford...
Too bad for who'd lived in Oxford
And his English Last Name: Clifford.