Best Disconcerting Poems
I’ve received an incredible gift
It has given my heart such a lift
But the date that I see
Is what now concerns me –
It’s the date I no longer exist!!!
Today I was gifted a 'lifetime' premium membership but it is somewhat disconcerting to see it ends on 3/20/2077. I hope TPS aren't psychic!!!!
My mother's great great aunt lived to 111 and 121 days and was in the Guinness book of records - I hope I am around a long long time to make full use of this incredible gift.
14th October 2016
My family had always told me
About ‘our gift’ since I was a small girl
That allowed us to feel the spiritual,
And see things not of this world
I ignored them until, at the age of sixteen
I’d gone out with a friend for the night,
We were being walked home by her father
When we encountered an unusual sight
As we giddily ambled along a dark road
A cloaked woman came into view
She drew closer, until we met face to face
Then she spookily walked straight through
My friend’s father, who seemed oblivious to this
And continued to walk on home
As he said nothing, and nor did my friend
I was sure the sighting had been mine alone
But I asked them both if they’d seen her
They said that I’d had too much drink,
‘She sees spirits as well as drinks them’
My friend’s father said, with a wink
We never spoke of that night again
But that sighting wasn’t my last
I’ve had more ‘paranormal’ experiences
As I’ve grown and years have gone past
I just have to step into old buildings
To feel a ‘vibe’ and become aware
Of the energy held within its walls,
And tell if ‘spirits’ walk there
When I visit an ancient monument
That is surrounded by fields of war,
I can hear the sounds of the battles
And cries of those who have gone before
Sometimes it can be disconcerting
As bad energy can be a pain
But I wouldn’t be without my special ‘gift’
Or change my life with the unexplained.
This poem has been written for Danielle Whites 'Time Warp' contest
“Your body is yours;
it is not for someone to abuse and leave you in fear.”
Quote by poet
A look of confusion and helplessness
Frenetic worry filled with fearfulness.
Terrifying mute screams echo impart,
Tears unbidden, wraith being ripped apart.
Disconcerting, hoarsely pleading to stop,
But unrestrained fleshly lust, pleas unstop.
In the dark; once again, cold patches drew
Fear of emotion penetrated through.
Clench fist and crippling affliction raged airs
Nauseate image brought vivid nightmare.
a deck of cards
a roll of dices
monopoly
you go to jail
an other chance
you hopscotch the streets
or should I say the side walk
as for ever you liked the games
of chance and scrabble
your brain to understand
the meaning of all
the avenue looks pretty good
from the stoops with your crayons
they come in boxes of your choosing
and you can melt the wax
making sure your carpet won't catch fire
as you wove it with wool from woolworth
and where are those stores
just a story and a web you are godiva
and ride the horse to amazon
the nile you left behind with papyrus
but trying to find where the roll begins
to wipe your ass is disconcerting
a smile and a grin for you to figure
My friends say this magnificent rose
Gives off the most wonderful aroma of spring
I am catching a scent somewhat obscure
As yet no recognizable thing
For I'm losing the sense
Of smell in my nose
Perhaps what I'm smelling
Though peculiar and unselling
Is this lovely flower
This most fragrant rose
Most likely it's the pasture
Expelling natural gas
Which is nostalgic and familiar
With its hint of ammonia and pungent aroma
But, I fear, even this shall pass
There's the most angelic sound in the meadow nearby
That is what my lovely neighbor conveys
She jots down the melody with each bar and clef
For I cannot hear it
I am practically deaf
But I do hear the shrill voice
Of my neighbor's young lass
Which is nostalgic and familiar
Though disconcerting and frightful
And never delightful
I fear, even this shall pass
The most beautiful creature stops at my house
It arrives every day to feed
This is just what I've heard
To me it's all blurred
For a new pair of glasses I need
But I do see the glare
From a bonfire of grass
Which is nostalgic and familiar
Though odious and weedy
And noxiously seedy
I fear, even this shall pass
My neighbor is bringing a dinner she will baste
Which others around highly praise
The sensation for me is hardly a meal
I have lost the better part of my taste
But I savor the peppers
She always brings me in mass
Which are nostalgic and familiar
Though indigestible and spicy
And especially dicey
I fear, even this shall pass
I fondly remember my wife's gentle touch
But this sense too I now lack
If it weren't for the fall
I'd have no sensation at all
But, for these sharp piercing pains
Down my back - Alas! Alas!
While nostalgic and familiar
And though crippling and painful
It is nothing disdainful
And I fear, even this shall pass
Now when I'm gone all will be quite sublime
I will have transcended to the sixth sense
I will be free as a bird
Free from the limits of time
Reunited with the Lord of Providence
Excavation begins,
chisel strikes
hardened rock
surface
So uncompromising
that not a mark is made.
Another more
powerful strike
breaks through,
a small cranny.
Slowly,
precisely,
painfully,
the work pays off.
Layer upon layer
lies beneath,
how disconcerting,
so much more work
to be done
to reach
the core.
Steadily
each layer fragments,
revealing
yet another,
hardened more
by time's passage.
The digging down
seems endless yet,
with sweat and tears
and little sleep,
the work is done.
The journey
to the center
reveals the magma,
the essence,
the truest form,
beneath all
the hardened rock.
For serious women everywhere, for Philippa and, today, for Rosie
Serious Women
Some of us have faces
That are less inclined to mirth
Mapped upon them traces
Of the journey from our birth
Inscrutable, mysterious
The face our mother gave
Inherently quite serious
Disconcerting, grave
See us in the street and we are
Focussed and unblinking
Eyes fixed on horizon far
Minding our own thinking
We’re not sad, or mad or bad
It’s just the face we’ve grown
You don’t know the life we’ve had
So frankly, mind your own
Control your neediness and fear
Your urge to poke and pry
We save for folk who hold us dear
The twinkle in our eye
“Give us a smile, darling”
“It hasn’t happened yet”
Trite words to get us snarling
“Excuse me? Wanna bet?”
To the endless trivial
Comments offered everyday
We respond with the convivial
“It’s just arranged that way!”
If you don’t understand my face
How dare you stoop to diss it
My **** is well imbued with grace
So kiss it
by Gail
Every reason equates to both the truth or curtains.
Within the visible light of mind, unveil the blurriness or shade it for certain.
Emotions are as true as the hands that caress it.
The speech that moulds it and the yearning to believe it.
Yet this world seems as corrupt as the mind who sees it.
The darkness that envelops the thought, was taught and trained.
Unknowingly and guided by hands that only crave Power.
Dig in deep in the dissolution of thoughts and bind it with the warmth of Heart's embrace.
Shed the layers of forced ideas and institution and break free the shackles of this illusion.
Or brace the smoke of despair that entrapped the lungs and leave life gasping for air.
Just to survive or let die in hopes that this hardship and lies are forgotten with death.
Released from the burden of life's grasp.
The choke of life that threatens all in a single minute wraith.
That will forever alter our destiny and our path.
Do you know how I got these scars?
I was broken and battered.
Not by swords wielding battles.
No armies that conquered.
Just mere words and pictures that keeps me in shackles.
Every moment, a distinct invention of a monster.
Invoked into my being by images of societal ruptures.
Creating me into something unholy, those taunters.
Like a carcass, advertise me as meat for vultures.
I felt I was branded with faults, discarded by burning.
I felt I was tainted with salt, distasteful and disconcerting,
I feel I am as they visioned me to be, obese, ugly and demeaning.
I felt I was. I feel I am. Believing thus revealing.
Unknown and invisible, I hexed this insecurity.
Unwise and inaudible, perplexed within me.
Unfair and implausible, indexed unworthy.
Until no end, this forbids me to be a part of society.
Do you know how I got these scars?
It’s the phantom window cleaner
He’s a man who’s built for speed
You should see him cleaning windows
He’s extremely fast indeed
If you watch him climb his ladder
With his squeegee and his scrim
Then you will not be surprised
That there’s not too much of him
He won’t slow down his pace
It’s such a disconcerting habit
Like a ferret up a pipe, or
A whippet, chasing rabbit
But wait till Friday night
When he is serving at the bar
It’s a total transformation
He’s the slowest one by far
all my senses ...
long to make sense ... of YOU
what greets my gaze is perfect imperfection
lines and curves and shapes and
colors and movements
mingled with sacred intent in sublime symmetry -
features that alone might be found disconcerting
collectively arranged in ways that
steal the steadiest of breaths
and define envy
for the gods themselves ...
then, a scent ethereal ...
weaving its quiet way into my head and blood
bewitching my mind with a rarefied air of
you and Je Reviens -
an intoxicating mix of essences, visceral
aromas that rival breezes from the
of Gardens of Babylon
and send the mind spinning ...
tumbling ...
to say your voice is music
would be doing it an extraordinary injustice
like some anointed dove from heaven
it lilts on the atmosphere
and when you press it tenderly to
my ear in wafted whispers
its voltaic song penetrates my coursings
and ignites my core
harmony and heat and will ...
aria and fire ...
I live for the feel of you ...
your skin is warm satin and silk
a catkin corporeality -
electric and responsively raw
sexy little bumps erupt at my touch
your perky bow lips -
an alluring mix of raspberries and chili peppers
and the indescribable perfection of
your hand in mine
as though your fingers were created from
the spaces between ...
and oh, your taste ...
the many flavors of you are like a
banquet of rare piquancy
your mouth a tangy, sugary bubblegum treat
dermal surfaces, savory and salty -
a tease for where they lead …
and your unique angelic nectar
like some exotic potion
created and sanctified to bind my
marrow biochemically
and render me ...
unhinged …
yes -
all my senses ...
long to make sense of YOU
yet I pray like a child that they never do
for the joy is in the journey ...
and the divine …
discovery.
~ 5th Place ~ in the "Five Senses" Poetry Contest, Viv Wigley, Judge & Sponsor.
I look in the mirror and I lock eyes with a vile wretch
The physical embodiment of mankinds ugliest stares back
Peering into a window I catch a glimpse of every imperfection buried deep within my soul
I shatter the mirror the pain of the reflection overpowering the feelings of the glass now stuck in my hand
Another reminder of why life has always tip toed around my existant
excusing itself to a world relieved of my presence
free from the uncomfortable questions of a curious mind
And the free expression of a soul that danced to its own seranade for lack of a better option
Free from a spirit that could not be contorted into the place society had etched out for it
But contorting into something unwanted something disconcerting
carving a way through unfamiliar terrain in the hope of finding a place it could call home
Gathering scars and wounds so deep they cut into the soul tainting it with the corruption and hate
spilling out of the daggers of alienation stabbing from unkind strangers in a world of contempt
glowing brighter with every new experience unclear of whether its transcending or descending
growing graceful and grotesque colouring outside of the lines of societies expectances
On this journey my eyes lock with a pair of blue-green eyes shining with the brightness of familiarity
But where in the mirror I had seen something odd, out of place and unwelcome
in her eyes danced the beauty of the universe's most perfect creation
The oddities and strangeness not subtracting from but somehow adding to her mysterious charm
Where I saw the failure in my own design reflected in her I saw only the perfection of a vibrant soul
My scientific mind had its first taste of destiny as the will of fate was pulling at my heartstrings
As if all of the struggles of life had been overcome just for this one moment where I could see this being of a divinity
And in the reflection of my eye she saw only the reflection of herself a reflection society had told her to depise
like the vile wretch of a man society tells her is standing before her
but she sees in me the same that I see in her
an essence of perfection whose far too good for me
Barking dogs and screaming kids
Can drive a person to drink
There's nothing quite so disconcerting
Worse than loud music methinks
Hard to control a barking dog
They'll bite you and rip off your leg
Beating kiddies is wee bit extreme
But it's fun watching them beg
Go ahead whomp your child
As long as you don't leave marks
Strangling is definitely illegal though
Welts are sometimes quite dark
Betcha I'm gonna hear 'bout this
'Bout abusing li'l kids and all
Really they're only minor injuries
It's a blast to hear 'em bawl!
Just kidding!!!
© Jack Ellison 2013
A PLACE IN THE SUN
Through each disconcerting walk of life
Till all my explorations cease
All the vulnerability I’ve got culminate
I have lost the kiss of peace.
In a place next to the sun I gladly soar
Hoping to be near God, ending my inner war.
I loathed my ostentatious life
Yearning, in spite of all my fears
Land me safe in a place next to the sun
Where I can purify my eyes with fresh tears.
With every word said and every cruel thought
I atone to those who my cruel deeds had bought.
My heart has been completely crumpled
In vain my love with exertion broke free
Unvarnished truth should be my salvation
Seeking the lost emotions, to comfort Id.
In a place next to the sun I dream of going
Where all past transgressions shall be foregoing.
I woke up from sleeping and found myself eating
a piece of old barley bread.
While feeding on breakfast, I thought it most unjust
that yours was a warm one instead.
Though willow branch bends, it cannot make amends
to a place that I'm sitting between.
A rock and a hard place that's hopeless to face -
and torment, the greatest I've seen.
My great sacrifice just wouldn't suffice.
These shoes that I wear aren't by choice.
"We can't refinance" was the bank's 'song and dance'
but who would hear my little voice?
Despite life-long effort, they're selling me short,
my business at such a great cost.
The bank never spared because they hadn't cared,
hence millions of dollars were lost.
So don't store up treasures for everyday pleasures,
in things of this earth that will rust.
The great love of money has never been funny,
for only in God should we trust.
It's so disconcerting my children are hurting,
yet hopelessly helpless I am.
Despite expectations to pay obligations,
I now can't help any of them.
I sit in the shade of these problems they made.
This willow tree weeps with me too.
The moral of story is not really gory
if we've learned a lesson or two.
Those decades of years bring me sad lonely tears
for they took everything that I had.
But what greater loss - than was Christ's on the cross?
I maybe don't have it so bad.
©2012 louis gander - www.ganderpoems.org
And then I
sit here squeezing
my soul like
a lemon in the
frantic
attempt to pour
my juices
out and distill
them in few
concise
drops of relief
Shivers shake
me in waves of
self-awareness coming
from your disconcerting
mirroring while I rattle
verses
out in a stream of
concerned consciousness
To your enchanting
complexity I owe
what binds
me to unravel
my thought
patterns with a strength I had
never
known before