Best Inflicted Poems


Self Inflicted Blues

This day I grow tired
and so incredibly weary.
My heart holds only dreams
of a Life unfullfilled
A Life not nurtured,
yet barely a glimmer
of the spirit that once was.

I do have memories of some things good 
-not all bad,
But the fear that I am alone
is Like a fingerprint on my Life.

Shadowing, waiting to pounce,
always there, unshakeable.

It's the mirrors that hold me accountable
to my actions.
Proof positive that where ever I go
there I am,
Naked, vulnerable, and yes
still alone.

As I try to allay this fear, 
one Lonely and painful pluck at a time,
It becomes crystal clear, that I alone
am damaging my soul to the very core
with each stroke of my hand.

I steal one Last Look in the mirror
and know that I alone
have self inflicted these blues
Leaves me to ponder one question:

Will I ever allow myself the strength and grace
it will surely take to heal my scarred soul?                        
                                                      
  



This poem was written in hopes of begining the healing process for my self. I 
have a disease called trichiotillamania. It is an obsessive and manic urge to pull 
one's own hair until baldness occurs. I'm a 48 year old woman, married(with kids 
& grand kids)and have been doing this since the age of 5. It coincided with the 
begining of my stepfather raping and torturing me which lasted until the age of 
thirteen. This disease has me trapped and is NEVER letting me go. There are 
two inflictions in regards to my hair pulling in this poem, one must know about 
my disease in order to understand this poem.

Premium Member Inflicted Wounds

The wound inflicted, you will never see,
for it lies in the recess of my mind
Internal is the bleeding; let it be!
You try, but peace of mind you can not find

Who is the God you worship? Speak His name!
I want to know; does he condone this pain?
Is He the one who let you maim and shame,
and will he bless you for your proffered bane?

I wonder how you can to slumber yield
Does not your deed weigh heavy on your heart?
The things you've said and done are not concealed
Your conscience surely pleads amends to start

The wound inflicted you will never see
But there is One who sees inside of me

Eileen Manassian

Inflicted In Time Till End

all stars and planets
                                        inflicted in time till end
                                            Universe's of God

                                            in time we are all
                                           limited bodies in it
                                          span is fixed by Him
© Bl Devnath  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Self Inflicted

Tongue lashings are bitter
  they hurt and injure
Gnawing at both the heart
  of victim and abuser
With each hostile strike
  both hearts bruise and deaden
Hostility a most deadly poison
  injected as cheeks redden

No word of a lie striking a chord
You live by the sword you die by the sword



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Submitted on December 6, 2019 for contest IF YOU LIVE BY THE SWORD THEN YOU DIE BY THE SWORD sponsored by SILENT ONE  -  RANKED 1ST

Premium Member Choosing To Punish Myself

A zig of happiness sparked the upper peninsulas
Of my wildebeest heart, a mere tich.
Could that teensy beginning shake my
Anger, which I had determinedly
Held onto for three weeks longer
Than anyone sane should have?

Come on, the spark said, laughing. Come
And play. We can be mad tomorrow.
I was not in the least bit tempted.
Stubbornness held me fast.

I refused her offer, the lifeline
She was giving me.  I ignored the
Light, and held on to my 
Enmeshed hurt feelings,

Holding onto my rage 
As a shield, afraid of whom I 
Might become without her.

Premium Member Self Inflicted

Moral Standards, self respect, a sense of peace
In a struggling world, trust and honesty expected, received
Family time, Sunday worship, where did it go
Changing world, liberal views, Standards removed
Political correctness, allow the changes, just accept it
Society weakened, sinking slowly, watch it crumble 
Even the heroes are villains, chaotic thoughts
The world we knew can rest in peace, six white horses
Allowed to die by the people, for the people
No No No Not destroyed by progress
The cause of death being self inflicted.


Self Inflicted - a Suicide Story

Ability to face his fears, gone!
Bewitched by a demon for so long.
Could not conceive a positive thought.
Doom and dread was all he sought.

Echoing hallucinating voices in his mind.
Friendships meaningful, he could not find.
‘Go ahead, end it now!’…. 
He’d hear them say.
Interdict he should live to see another day.
 
Just then, he concluded what to do.
‘Kill myself undoubtedly, then I’ll stop feeling blue’.
Longing though to change his mind.
Moods flared up, of every kind.
Never had he felt this low.
Only solution is to merely let it go.

Pick a course; blade, gun or poison?
Quickest approach, without a reason!
Reflecting nothing, he simply acted.
Sanguinary wound, self-inflicted!
Thoughts of despair as he laid there bleeding.
Utter commotion, so very misleading.

Veils of black line the chapel floor.
Weeping eyes, dry no more.
Xylophonic gizmos the performers played.
Yawning a soft sweet serenade.
Zany acts could not be predicted, resulting in death, ‘self-inflicted!’

Self Inflicted

In this world of possession,
Where, criticism creates frustration.
Sufferings and pain have easy flow,
Negativity and jealousy are in full glow.
Where emptiness is all around,
Pessimism can easily be found.
Intolerance growing day by day,
Depression is like the fever of hay.
Now hate and anger are spontaneous, 
Stress and worries are simultaneous.
People are violent by choice,
And nothing is left to rejoice.
Now someone is needed to sow a smile,
A smile, that no one is able to defile.
Who will do this favor to us?
It is in fact tough to guess.
So raise your head to find a reason,
For, celebration needs no season.
No one is there to wipe thy tear,
So stand up now and have no fear.
Coz when we get really addicted,
Happiness can be self inflicted.


 -----------------------------------
Date: 24/01/2016
Self Inflicted - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Slausen

Premium Member Massacre So Self Inflicted

A ripe body of Adolescence, nuzzled by beauty
on which hair is polished by crystals and sapphire
but lacks in the garrison of virtues and patriotism
becoming blind to the significance of its own felicity.
So gullible  is its owner, that Dorian Gray is her preferred suitor,
so false are her choices like bringing Tilapia to Canada to strive.
Protracted human disasters have not altered her Oestrus
yet barren even with the plethora of fertile males
she's an ignorant keeper and owner of a unique talisman
causing a huge surveillance from selfish sugar daddies.

In the midst of her turmoil, she stays ludic
inflicted with so much pain but cry so rhapsodic.
Swimming with the fast in pretentious avocation
entertaining in self deceit, through every dulcet move.
Well formed mouth without a beak and limbs with soft knees;
her metamorphosis should be complete, yet a chrysalis she remains.
A complete turnaround requires an economic Hasidism
for the existing gross mediocrity to be evanescent
then refined existence in juxtaposition between an idyllic present
to a radiant future would be once again fully established.

Premium Member Self-Inflicted

her sunken eyes see

fat where there is only skin

her body withers

when pain is self-inflicted

the cure is soul-forsaken


Written 1/24/2016 for the Contest of Anthony Slausen

Self Inflicted

Should I allow my mind to rove
I may be taken aback somehow
remembering forbidden love
induced by guilt I so feel now

reflecting back on cotton threads    
tossing neath the weight of skin
sweat pouring from the brow
absorbed in heaven we in sin

remembering the night of you
cherished no strings that bind
we belonged to us alone 
a secluded world left behind
© Judy Konos  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Self Inflicted - For Contest

Self Inflicted


The wounds were “self-inflicted”
unmindful of the pain
that surged within the shattered soul
a never ending rain.

The priest in sanctimonious lie
anointed, blessed, and prayed
the parish nodded knowingly
they too had been betrayed.

The charlatans of Christendom
succumbed to mourning wail
while covering for demons
who should have gone to jail.

Thus did the guilty wash their hands
lead guileless sheep to follow
the scent of incense acrid air
flickering through tallow.

Warped plywood covers tear-stained glass
the altar’s gods evicted
to suffer the never ending pain
of wounds they “self-inflicted”


1/21/2016

submitted to  - Self Inflicted – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Anthony Slausen

Self-Inflicted

SELF-INFLICTED

I BRING IT ALL ON MYSELF, I AM
 THE CATALYST OF MY OWN DEMISE
ALONE WITHOUT UNDERSTANDING
GROWING OLD WITHOUT GROWING WISE

I FEEL THE PAIN, YES, OF MY OWN MAKING
BUT LOOKING BACK INTO THE CORE
THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL IS TAKING ME 
BACK INTO THE ABYSS ONCE MORE

I WRITHE AND I SCREAM 
POURING MY INSIDES OUT
WITHOUT SLEEP, WITHOUT DREAMS,
WHAT IS THIS ALL ABOUT

THE BEGINNING OF THE ENDING AGAIN
I FEEL LIKE I’M LOSING MY MIND
ALONE WITHOUT UNDERSTANDING
WITHOUT SIGHT, LIKE A MAN IN A CAVE, I’M BLIND

I BRING THIS ALL ON, THE SHEER DISGUST I FEEL
NO ONE TO FALL ON, TO SAVE ME FROM WHAT’S REAL
ANGEL ON THE LEFT, DROWNED OUT BY DEMONS CRIES
THEY SIT ON MY RIGHT AND I BELIEVE THEIR LIES, AND FOLLOW THROUGH TO THE OTHER SIDE…

THEY SAY YOU HAVE THE STRENGTH TO CONQUER ALL
TO OVERCOME YOUR DEEPEST FEARS
BUT OUT OF THE DARKNESS, COMES FURTHER DISSENSION
THAT HAS LAID IN WAIT FOR ALL THESE YEARS
I FIGHT TO SEE THE POSITIVE
HALF EMPTY OR HALF FULL
BUT BY ALL ACCOUNTS I’M IN THE NEGATIVE
NO EXCEPTIONS TO THE RULE
I BRACE MYSELF FOR IMPACT
PREPARE TO FACE THE IMPENDING FALL
A MEANS TO AN END FOR ALL THAT I LACK
ANOTHER DAY WITH MY BACK TO THE WALL

I BRING IT ALL ON MYSELF, I AM
THE CATALYST OF MY OWN DEMISE 
ALONE WITHOUT UNDERSTANDING
GROWING OLD WITHOUT GROWING WISE…

AND THE SADDEST PART OF IT ALL
IS THAT IT IS ALL SELF-INFLICTED…

Self Inflicted Foggy Harbor

Put yourself in a leaky boat
knowing it's not designed to float.

Pain within your scattered mind.
Utter black is all you find.

No solace will be granted here.
You're sensing that the end is near.

Bleeding from those wounds inside
you just can't take this endless ride.

Drifting now from shore to shore.
You won't be waiting anymore.

Into the murky depths you sink.
Death comes quicker than you think.

The last thought of your life is this:
there's so much heartache you won't miss.



written 9/8/2015
© Deb Wilson  Create an image from this poem.

My Self-Inflicted Fate

Time,
Always
Moves ahead.
 Who will be left?
 Waiting now behind,
 For a sign from above,
 As if blind to the present.
 Look no further than your own mind!
 Do you not perceive your surroundings?
 Mediocrity the doom of us all.

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