Best Obsess Poems
Obsessed with the thought of you
wondering if it's only me or
if you sometimes remember the sweet things you've said
and if you meant them how I took them
or if I'm just obsessed with what's in your head
Obsessed with your very sentences
Every response I take personal
I know it's selfishness
Have you not noticed my eyes?
They hold secrets that only you can unlock
if you'd just take time to fill the thick juices of my pride
It's just boiling with lust, passion, trust and distrust
and other things I obsess over so much
I find myself writing to free myself from this prison I've created
where only you and I reside
I become confused about what I'm really feeling inside and I
try to rid the thoughts that are highly debated as false and I
begin to cry and
think of casting love spells so that the universe can deliver this affair
I know it's unfair
but I don't care
I'm obsessed with what hasn't happened between us
I'm obsessed with your heart and that the fact that
I don't think you've even noticed my selfish innuendos
and secret undertones that blatantly express my lust
Or maybe you have and you calmly remain in resistance of distrust
If you could only read my mind by simply touching my fingertips,
I'm sure I'd catch you out the corner of my eye biting your bottom lip
I'm obsessed with the passion and thoughts I think you have
Obsessing over an experience that I may never have....
TO WANT SOMETHING SO BADLY
YOU OBSESS OVER IT MADLY
DRIVEN BY YOUR OWN DESIRE
ITS JUST WARM UP TILL YOUR DROWN IN PERSPIRE
ALWAYS THAT CRAVING IN YOUR SOULD
NEVER TAKING YOUR EYES OFF THE GOAL
I WANT THAT KIND OF PASSION
I WANT TO GET UP AFTER CRASHIN'
PLEASE SEND ME THINGS TO INSPIRE
I NEED HELP RE-LIGHTING MY FIRE
THIS TIME I WILL NOT LET IT BE PUT OUT
I WILL REMEBER WHAT BEING MY BEST IS ABOUT
EVEN WHEN I AM TIERD AND BEAT
I WILL PUSH THROUGH BECAUSE TO CONQUER THAT IS A TRUE TREAT
CLOSE YOUR EYES AND DARE TO DREAM
YOU'VE ALWAYS GOT GOD ON YOUR TEAM
NOW IS THE TIME TO MY OWN ADVICE
NOW IS THE TIME TO MAKE MEN OF MICE
I watch anxiety play across her face
my heart lurching
my insides upheaval laden
somewhere in the misty consciousness
it dawns
she carries my heart
and I weep
for there's no room to keep
the worry at bay
"I just think...this world is too hard a place for me."
I hear my own words reechoed
from a younger voice
a younger version of me
how can it be?
how can it be?
I thought she had more of him than of me
his calmness
his laissez faire fanfare of confidence
"let things happen as they will" exuberance
The..."don't obsess
no internal mess" productivity
It's not to be....
she carries my heart, I see
her voluptuous figure eaten away
to a size she's always wanted
but not from diet discipline
or extremes of exercise
not this time...
"I'm anxious, Mama."
What can I say?
My carefully crafted confidence in her
for being a stronger woman
than I've ever been or could ever be
is hit at the core...foundations shaken
Oh...why must she be
so much like me
and in secret, I weep
for the daughter who must keep
a heart
too sensitive, too weak
for a world
belligerent....bleak
"I'm anxious....
I'm anxious, Mama"
And I'm left with a week
before she goes away
to pull my wits about me
to know what to say
to fill her with strength
pulling on the reserves of sanity
still left to me
to set her free
Oh...to set her FREE
and let that anxiety
settle....settle...settle
enshrouding not her
but only...
......me
Eileen Manassian
A grand display the way she plays
the game of love to hearts’ dismay;
with shrewd foreplay she stalks her prey
expecting that she'll have her way.
Like game of chess with quick aggress
and strong pursuit she starts to press
with deep obsess and skilled finesse
to score the king, his crown possess.
With knights so grand held in her hand,
the pawns and rooks at her command;
she'll make her stand, her foe outmanned,
her strategy so deftly planned.
With game begun she starts her fun
and moves her pieces one by one
to make him run in hopes to stun
until her prey is overrun.
But not so fast my lovely lass
perhaps her house is made of glass,
and with his brass she's met her class,
and he will have his piece of her…
He’ll take her down and spin her round
and leave her pieces on the ground
so neatly wound and tightly bound;
he'll have his way...still she'll be crowned.
Despite their claims of skill and fame,
…who has really won this game?
She's not to blame, there is no shame,
‘cause deep within they're both the same.
February 18, 2020
I want to be the man who’ll be more than your man
I want to be the one you make your best friend
Not to replace the ones you got
But a different one to start
A different kind of love for you
A man with a different point of view
Who really doesn’t care to lay you on your back
I really don’t care to get you in the sack
I don’t care what’s between your legs
Interested with what’s in your heart and your head
Your intelligence to hold me
Your love to move me
Doesn’t matter to me how sex with you would be
Would love you still if we left and you never slept with me.
I want to be there when you need a rock
I want to be the one to stop
You in your tracks when you approach me
Want to be the only man you see
I want to know what makes you tick
I want to take care of you baby when you’re sick
Not the kind of man to obsess bout the size of your chest
The kind of man to try to ease your fears
Not caring about the state of your hair
Instead bring your eyes near,
Let me stare and get lost
Take me to the source of your innocence
Let me fall into your essence
Swept away by your beauty
Amazing me with your purity.
For you what I feel
Makes you my Achilles’ Heel
My only sweet weakness
My eternal kryptonite
Thoughts of holding you tonight
My caramel princess
I must confess my heart’s distress
Leaving it a wonderful mess
A mass confusion of feelings
Making me a believer
Making me the receiver
Of a presence so divine.
Don’t make these tears drop
Try not to stop
What we both know is here
Learn to gaze and stare
Into my soul through my eyes
To win that forever prize
That’s bigger than us both
Realize perpetual growth.
Although soon we have to go away
Honestly right now I wish to stay
In your arms
Listen to your heartbeat and let it calm
A few storms of my own
Can’t believe how much this has grown
In just a month…….
Vanity
A poem about vanity in life inspired by Ancient Greek Wisdom
As I wake up abruptly every single dawn
With my body still asleep on futility’s lawn
My spirit needs a fiery, enervating quick jolt
To nail down my awareness with God’s divine bolt
And as the day’s continuity progresses slowly
My frail mind transforms my soul silently
To seek our Father’s love and compassion
And His heavenly treasure and full passion
Oh! supreme vanity, goddess of futility
You mark our short life most eloquently
As you guide us with your values and premises
To consider all matters without the goal of destiny
For without God’s divine purpose and infinity
All life ends up in the turbulent waterways of vanity
Waiting, with no end, for the pleasure of happiness
Disregarding all elements of ethics and human wellness
Oh! Greatest vanity of glorious vanities
How weak you make the old and the wise
How you bond us all well with divine fate
How silly you make men who think they are great
Dearest God, bless us to be, in our life, mighty
So that we express our goodness to all needy
For without Your words we are all bereft totally
Waiting our final turn in the valley of dire mortality
Taking into deep consideration the following ancient Greek sayings:
1. By Aristotle: ‘Suffering becomes beautiful when anyone bears great calamities with cheerfulness, not through insensibility but through greatness of mind’.
2. By Plato: ‘Eternal time is the only truth while what happens in our world are icons of vanity of our emotions’.
3. By Empedocles: ‘You must plunge beneath your crowded thoughts and calmly contemplate the higher realities with pure, focused attention. If you do this, a state of inspired serenity will remain with you throughout your life, shaping your character and benefiting you in so many ways. But if you direct your attention instead to the trivial things most people obsess about, the silly nonsense that dulls their minds, you’ll just acquire more objects which you’ll only lose anyway’.
Dear flower,
To follow me is to invite glass into your skin.
You've been there, done that.
Been kissed - been slapped.
For better or worse till living do you part.
Are you a piece of reality, or a fragment of dark?
Are you pro, are you con?
You're beautiful and clever enough to ride that Siamese beast.
You see, you obsess, and you think.
Out of this chrysalis of respect, I'm simply what you want
(probably not what you need).
At the end of this tangled-flattering mess
the man ogre devours
with kitten tongue tenderness.
I am sending you this letter ...
for as you know my journey has been happy and bitter
and though my heart has been shattered I am a fighter
I want you to know that I will always be a poem writer
and it is okay that my ghosts will ever chatter and mutter
oh, my coming years will be the best and will matter
I am in a serene and tranquil space and place
and I realize that life is not a race so I will slow my pace
you will see me growing in the future in grace and faith
if I should leave for Heaven I pray my poetry leaves a trace
and my plan is to take all this life offers and embrace
I have a collection of wonderful friends
and over the coming years this love will only transcend
I plan to keep and gather more friends until my life ends
of course there may be upsets but we will make amends
and my loyalty for them and them for me we will defend
I am taking care of my health
and plan to always be my best self
and I want you to know I do not care if I have wealth
I can have utter happiness just being myself
I will not obsess on where my future self goes
but will continue to write my life and woes
and when it is my time to forever repose
leave on my grave a red rose
In ending, I want you to know that my life is precious
and even when I am old and frail I will keep my essence
Sincerely _
Me from the here and now
___________________
September 20, 2021
Poetry/Rhyme/Dear Future Self
Copyright Protected, ID 09-1390-059-20
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Letter To My Future Self
sponsor, Silent One, Judged 10/16/2021
First Place
Poem of the Week September 26, 2021
Yell at me, put me down
Scream at me, I'll show a frown
Love me, I'll love you
Adore me, and I'll obsess you
Why don't we see the problem
Till the situation is at it's end
Why don't we see the problem
and some times just pretend
What is your reason for words
Fighting me with them every second
What is your reason for words
when we say we love each other and blend
Why can't we always solve them
The situation doesn't have a cure
Why can't we always solve them
The ones where you walk away to lock in a stir
Why do you fly with birds
To escape diseased problems and what they lack
Why do you fly with birds
Our answers are never coming back
The Problem is our questioning of love
I love you no matter what, even when push comes to shove
I love your eyes and their addicting sight
your mouth, your lips my love will put up a fight
Don't ever question
Were better than those who do
I'm sorry if you wanted me to say something more
But It's kind of hard to do on Que
Do you scribe with a sword of honesty
or the feather of a sketchy lie.
Nobody wants to be taken for a flowery parade ride.
I would rather swallow a cup of fire ants
than drown in a pond of saccharine.
Truth comes easy; you don't even have to try.
Don't obsess about the rhyme.
Just slap the tap-taps in your head
Onto the willing keyboard bed.
Try not to overthink, or the brain ink will dry. Grow cold,
Let it flow from the blood of your soul.
The path may be covered in grit and grime.
But it's a path for all truth seekers to take.
They'll come by the scores to hold the naked star of your truth.
And they'll willingly die with its glow in their hearts.
Inspired by and based on L’Étranger by Albert Camus
I'm a stranger to you, even stranger to me
I'll pass you by like a memory
Of innocence and ignorant bliss.
I feel nothing every time we kiss
I feel nothing each day I'm alive
Nothing matters, we're all gonna die
When and how, I could not care less
I don't care for the life over which you obsess
It can be changed but should I bother?
This life is just like any other
So taciturn and disarrayed
Oh, didn't Mother die today?
Reflecting the sunshine on the blade of a knife
To turn away or to take his life?
I stopped to think as he hit the floor
His breathless body took four more
Now I'm being punished for refusing to lie
If my life is the price then I'll sacrifice
I am not like you, I refuse to pretend
And if truth equals crime then I will not amend
It can be changed but should I bother?
This life is just like any other
So taciturn and disarrayed
Oh, didn't Mother die today?
But I found myself in this nothingess
And learnt to embrace the indifference
The end is nearing but there is no pain
For some strange reason, I feel happy again
I'm a stranger to you, even stranger to me
My blind rage has washed me clean
Proud to say that in this life so absurd
I never belonged to your condemned herd
I could have changed it but I didn't bother
This death is just like any other
So taciturn and disarrayed
Oh, dear Mother, I'm alive again
Glance
Gaze
Crave
Fixate
Taste
Appreciate
Cherish
Obsess
Possess
Ingest
Indulge
Engulf
Full
Bulge
Break
Ache
Distaste
Disgust
Disgorge
Disinterest
Ignore
Bored
More
I prefer them a bit tattered and tired.
(a slow lick on a hard knife edge).
A midnight she-cat, sparkling like a pinwheel.
The kind that makes you obsess about
why they're one hour and five minutes late.
Why their mascara is off center.
Why they have that strange, strong scent.
I like them a little mousy,
a little off the beat.
A chick that can spit with class.
Kick the living MAN out of me.
A fireball that contorts and concocts,
attends to every want and need...
(You all know what I mean).
Admittedly, what I really need is periwinkle predictability.
A Crisco-oiled apron, the one mamma used to don.
A deep-fried lullaby in the quiet cove of a racing mind...
I want to go way back into Crayola Crayon time.
Doubts fill my head like a floating stream
I am pushing forward, but quickly running out of steam
Why am I doing what I’m doing? What even is the point?
As weariness pours over me, every bone and every joint
I’m not the best at anything, even if I try
But I keep trying to be the best without a reason why
Every day I strive, searching for a new result
But nothing changes, I’m still the same
Consistency’s insult
Insanity is the definition of my situation
Going forward through this life without an inspiration
Happiness and feelings gone, I am a robot now
As I continue to push on, wiping sweat from off my brow
Everyone holds me to high standards and prod me on along
Holding me on a short lease, control over-powering and strong
But did you even care to ask me how this makes me feel?
You manipulate and use me; my pride is what you steal
I am not your prize for you to parade
I am not a pawn in your own little charade
I can run my own life and do not need your help
Your constant expectations wearing thin upon myself
I don’t need to jump through hoops in order to impress
My future now may be a haze, but you don’t need obsess
I know how to live my life without your consent
I know how to carry myself and don’t care if it makes you upset
Now let go of the reigns and give me back the wheel
I can handle my own life and I know how to feel
I may not be the man or son you wanted me to be
But you have to let go of control; you must let me be free
You cannot change my spirit or my personality
You cannot change my pessimistic mentality
I will only say this once and try to say it nice:
Let me be who I am and let me live my life.
when life give you lemons you make lemonade
when life gives you a job its time to get paid
when life gives you women you'll surely get laid
but obsess over all this you'll end up a slave
see no evil hear no evil speak no evil please
just because I'm Satanist people think that I'm diseased
but I assure you all that I'm the cleanliest you'll ever see
cuz one of the things that separate is the fact I'm still me
I don't really care for the opinions of what you think
cut you, you cut me we bleed red and both show pink
inside were the same its our tones that are both distinct
if we keep fighting this war its all who will be extinct
when life gives you lemons
you can try to paint them gold
but you'll always be reminded
cuz inside still turns to mould