Best Pain Society Poems
Esta sociedad ciega esta en crisis,
Es la causante de la corrució caótica,
Solo viven de la intención inseguros,
Sin saber qué es la determinación,
Dejándose llevar por una doctrina quebrantada...
La sociedad solo vive por vivir,
No dejando legados,
Sino dejando marcas.
Por eso, la sociedad aclama saber,
Pero en realidad no saben nada,
En comparación a los reales sabios...
Pero, la sociedad rechaza,
La sociedad reprime,
Y la sociedad restringew a los sabios,
A veces por envidia,
Ya que están cegados por ambición y pendejadas...
La sociedad rechaza el ideal de los sabios,
Pero dejan a tontos e imbéciles libres al mundo;
A éstos les encanta vidajenear,
Por solo romper privacidad...
Solo pocos aprecian la amistad y el amor;
Otros se limitan a sí mismos y se ciegan;
Luego, se transmutan a incrédulos ambiciosos,
Sin propia convicción...
Por eso, muchos ambiciosos y mentirosos,
Recurren a la religión, en últimos instantes;
Pero, en últimos instantes es que éstos,
Mueren en propia cobardía e hipócrita sanidad...
No existe tal cosa como perfección,
Solo existe la compleja simpleza o la simple complejidad;
Pero, nada es imposible,
Ya que no hay límites en la posibilidad...
Por eso, no todos los que aventuran se pierden;
No todos los que exigen, aplican lo exigido;
No todos los que miran, observan;
No todos los que oyen, escuchan;
No todo el que hiere, merece;
No todas las heridas, sanan;
No todos los que inhalan, respiran;
No toda sonrisa es feliz;
No toda boca, habla;
No toda sangre y lágrima es en vano;
No toda mente y corazón son puros e inocentes;
No todos los que actuan, piensan;
No todos los que piensan, analizan;
No todo el que analiza, siente;
No toda alma es neutral y digna;
No todo el que existe, vive;
Y no todo el que vive, sobrevive...
Turbulant radient red sky with sheet swirl mashed potato
cloud mush peered lazily through a curious brown
haze of dirty armpit fizz, enlisted somewhere
bewteen a prebeginning solar start dot deposit burst peak
and a futuristic nuclear waste singulsr hand mitten
all in lieu of a sadeyed slowburn glowing tuxedo-still
and looking on with rolled up flannel sleeve gross
passivity. I slurped around the grand gravel
entrance up and down brown round and rocky
pinging and jumping. Wide spaces
grappling with the refuse laden humo motif of
endeless manwomanchildpet pickings. I round the teetering
trough trench like curves unwitnessed to the sight beholding
ever present but none as gigted. Poor mouth
super excrement excuses like duct tape type at the end
of its reality roll---never enough for the final fix.
I watched as multitruck things silently
dispatchingly dispersed and unloaded their
grusome garbage waves on good mother earth.
Battles can leave muscles working as man and time spitspent
slowcuspocus appendages working at top mph
pushing shoving shoveling piling before the light
pace calls it another disgusting dillday.
without the slighest the remorse--my stomach began
to wrenchabit and my eyewells passed be free
me. The gulls some truck lenght away were
spuriously sifting smilingly through the
human wreckings in a last light meal
remedial refrain--as intense as
the dumpers became the dumpees. I angered as
the populace as myself delivered my putrid parlay
and proceded to the mass exit as if it were
OK. The quality of messy mercy stops at the buck. I need not squander the dull likings of my kind
of indifferenleunce on the hapless mis constraints of
a well informed psuedo citizenery. I hope the land rebels
someday and eats us all by the very
seeds we so sow. Garbage is as garbage does
but it's the tidy attitude of human complacency that
wipes my ass so clean---look to the trash cans for---hope.
To dwell among the ruins;
littered with broken bottles and flattened plastic cups,
stamped out cigarette butts
Cast off lottery binges,
crushed ghetto dreams and empty syringes
Poisoned by so many stings of inequality
Flickering opportunities ...
shed your skin, and perhaps poverty
will become a molted nightmare
I stand amidst
a people in a narcotic induced stupor,
their drug of deceit is a false sense of identity
They want to believe so bad
in their adopted society
Still slaves to orphaned naiveté
My feet of clay are bruised
on the shards of this shattered glass menagerie
A ghetto cage with rusted hinges,
creaky freedom that depends
on intensive mental lubrication
Trapped souls within tend to not have enough strength
to swing open the cage door
I stand amidst
a people with weeping desires
of soaked happiness wrung dry
Shuddering in cold urban projects
left ill-heated and unfinished
We who came here with nothing ...
stripped of everything --- our heritage, our dignity
Then subsequently told we are not entitled to anything
I fall to my knees
in the midst of my people's pain
As the dagger of disillusionment
is plunged into our collective heart
again and again
We are assimilation's spitted out bitter raisins
I feel the tinge of pain again.
No,it isn't the wounds that hurt,
But everything else-
The look of sarcasm,
The look of disgust,
The silence of loneliness,
The winds of abandonment,
The occasional frown,
The nameless torture,
The unwanted shameful fame,
The experience of impaired humanity.
As I feel the rope tightening round my neck,
I enjoy the painful bliss;
I pass into the unknown-
Nameless.
Weak.
Stripped of respect,
Of dignity,
Of all things human.
Arrogant are the children of despair,
Battling demons that threaten to betray,
Caustically they bedevil the ensnared,
Damaging thus their reputations frayed.
Either they rise or die in that prison,
For none may escape its hostilities,
Given they'd welcome change to partition,
Hardly a thought regarding them bullies.
Indeed I say, hells incursion is harsh,
Justly they will see the bode of foresight,
Knowing fully they'd fall into a marsh,
Labouring thus to climb out of its spite.
Monstrous you feel in the name of rage,
Nightly wanting to ravage the goofballs,
Occasionally if that could be you'd page,
Proposing so some resolve to their falls.
Quenching too a grisly desire for blood,
Radical it might be but you're the key,
Salvation therefore will come like a flood,
Taking the despaired into a new spree.
Under your guidance they will be brutal,
Validating thus their life and ideals,
Wasted not, or wayside from the truthful,
X-rays will discover their lies concealed.
Your assail on them should be purposive,
Zestful too as they seek reasons to live.
We escaped from crocodiles,
But,
Trapped to home lizards!
She has no face in the world,
Not even a mask to cover this
Scarlet letter riding her back--
How do you erase that sign
But by hiding in the corners
Of your mind,
Blind, deaf and dumb,
Climbing among the numb dead
Folks, who have no clout,
No doubts that they're fodder
For the massive heart attack
Society blends in pots
Of despair, dread and broken dreams, are shot.
Everyone knows and can see,
the wretched monster
who has been hiding in his closet for so long.
They do their best to ignore him,
make him feel worthless,
try and make him realize
his kind isn’t welcome in society.
The poor monster does his best
to close his closet door,
but too many of his open secrets
already block the thin wood,
that once separated him from the rest of society.
The monster is barely able
to move the door an inch,
so the people continue to discover ways
to harm the poor monster.
Meanwhile the monster despises his choice,
to open the closet door
and allow the outside world
to have a look at a life of hiding in the closet.
All he wished for was acceptance
but all he received was denial.
The monster began
to try and retrieve his secrets,
to close his closet door,
but they were already running wildly
through the minds of the outside world.
Eventually the monster realized that all hope was lost,
there was no longer any safety in his closet,
but the closet was the only thing he knew.
so one lonely night
the monster finally decided to end his misery,
he tied a noose onto the coat rack
and stood on a box of old shoes,
slipped his neck through the inviting hole,
and allowed his legs one last walk,
right off the edge of the old box of shoes.
During the next day,
society had seen what they had done
and began to rejoice that the “terror” was dead.
Some pretended to be sad,
but the rest openly delighted about the monster’s death.
" An Encryption ... "
( Acts 14: 22 / Ca. 8: 6, 7 )
The Pain of A Thousand Cuts
The Shame of A Thousand Crawls
The Blame of A Thousand Faults
That Came To Mean: Nothing ... Or All ...
The Stain of Ten-Broken Trusts
The Claim of Ten-Broken 'Oughts
The Same Ten-Broken Pans That Scalds
Still Bathes Billions, Broken-Souls In Salts
The Aim of A Hundred-Hunts
The Game As The Hounded Calls
The Maim of A Million Assaults
... Lay Slain In The Hero's Halls ...
The Fame of Ten-Thousand Exults
The Names of Ten-Thousand Exaults
When Vain Pride of Ten-Thousand Falls
... To Flames of Love's Fire-Walls ...
The Strain of Countless Specs of Dust
Has Lain In Decades of Era's Exhaust
Sustained Over Ten-Thousand Broken Laws
Explained In Encryption of Ten-Thousand Vaults ...
... She Sang Inscriptions Written On Ten-Thousand Walls
Written & Copyrighted ©: 5/7/2014
by: MoonBee Canady
This poem is a repost. I originally posted it the first week I came to PSoup. It received no comments. I chose to repost it because it is one of my personal favorite poems, and it deals w/a significant social issue. I hope my beloved
PSoup family give me some feedback the second time around.
Love, Romantic Warrior
It was a miserable existence,
that of a battered wife
It was a never ending cycle
of a hurt-filled violent life
She walked on eggshells,
avoided direct eye contact
Did nothing that would get him riled up
She always spoke in a timid voice,
deferred on every household decision
Never complained when the sex was too rough
Ofttimes it wasn’t even her
that would get his pot boiling
Get him steamed and hopping mad
It could be the telly news,
the neighbor’s cat
Or the photo of his mum and dad
It was a daily chore,
washing away the pain
that was mixed in with the bloodstains
It was a daily chore,
rinsing away the tears
that was mixed in with the whiskey and beers
And each night before turning out the light,
she has to take her dose of verbal abuse
Then tiredly arise with swollen, sullen eyes;
rehearse to neighbors another recycled excuse
And for a few hours she gets to enjoy
a quiet space that is blissfully sweet
Escape in soap daydreams before she faces
the daily grind of wash, rinse, repeat
Attempts to walk, but every step leads into a sinkhole
Narrow escapes from the sinkhole, but can't move, one leg always chained
Sometimes the chains come off, and I walk dragging the chains with me
In and out of institutions, a frequent flyer, a nuisance
The audience watch from far, and my "dear" friends only give quick hugs
And leave, running as fast, and those family visits are tainted with fear
So I walk in my shackles, my mind with its many mountains
Some I wish I could climb, and just jump, just to be forgotten
Some I wish I could create, maybe build some stairs on them and water ways to slide on
I wish I could feel the depth of happiness
I wish I could hold on to a flying kite, and come close to the colors of the rainbow
The audience whispers a lot, and some "dear" friends sympathize
But they always leave, and the family members only come close when i am medicated
August 5th 2015
Sponsor Nathan D.
Contest Name Mental Illness
Analyze this illusion
A world teeming with life
Including us
Melancholy humans
Whose overthinking
Of our existence
Leaves us with more questions
Then we have the power
to give meaning
Or even began to understand
Perhaps the answer right in front of us
Staring us down as each day we pass
We just don’t have the capacity to grasp it
Without feeling overwhelmed
And concluding that ultimately
Our lives are purposeless
Just a set of tasks
Repeated over and over
Like a wheel for a rat
I don't know if I told you this already,
But it is a mistake to love me.
My parents did. They now regret it.
My Grandma did. Now she's in pain.
My family loved me, now they reject me.
It is a mistake to love me.
The thing is I don't love back.
I do know that.
I don't really know how to love another.
I'm not human, I just look like one.
If you love me,
Don't be expecting me to love you back,
I won't even fake it.
I'm selfish. I'm evil.
Cuz I know all that but I won't change a little.
Sometimes I want. I even try.
But my heart seems so frozen and hard,
I don't even imagine putting a crack
Breaking it down, and letting someone inside
I don't love. I can't love. And I'm not sure I want to.
Don't love me. No. Don't ever love me.
It will hurt me to see you try.
See you expect something out of my heart
Only to get mist and a heart colder than ice.
Am I wicked? No, I'm not.
Its not intentional, it's not aforethought
But no matter how much you try
You won't break the ice over my heart.
Maybe I was born so. Maybe nature made me cold.
Maybe I might care about you a little bit.
Yes, a little bit,
Like a prized possession.
My Brain is on Fire
My Thoughts are blacken and cracked
My Soul is trapped in a mire
My Body feels racked
I am forever changed
Am I forever lost?
I am forever deranged
Am I knowing the true cost?
Oh God, what is the plan
Why could I have not been hit harder?
Oh God, I do not know where it began
Why could I not have been smarter
I wish I could find peace
Maybe just find some release?
I like being a woman in a men s world.
The world think that.
the woman is weak and wan,
with no strength.
What an illogic logic,
it seems like it is a creep and cheap world.
How would they know that,
how it fells being bleeding five days every month
and still, they think
we have no strength.......