Best Restricted Poems
The door of the cell
slammed close
with a brutal clang.
Then, the slow sliding
of a rusty bolt
bought darkness;
and with it
comfort;
at last.
I feel so deprived
By ensemble of clothing
Yours especially
No road elects to prune
a wavy path past mindless
parts of this life,
resembling our ghosts,
my love
I need no hearing,
no strings and
no sounds,
I need only hear your voice...
No love selects a raindrop's
teary glide,
that leaves a broken heart
unheeded,
my love
Those wails we use to un-robe
a sheath of repeated loss,
Demand we know...
and say no,
the second before we deplete
the trust
My love,
I know no worth
beyond the faith you bestow on me
No right to think
aside from that storied
black man steel
My world elects to choose
your captive smile,
kept in tow for him...
to signify
my love denied
My love,
That welts and strain
wrap our shared images with a glare
is an un-repeated refrain,
of the sunlight at dawn
That strands of desolation
retain misguided parity
with our measured truth,
is dusk's residual question
When rivers line up neglected masses
of sand
and our curative rain ceases,
in the resulting twilight...
We can only call belief, endurance,
and call sanity...brave
We invoke a fictive trust
replete with faith
For our elusive love to live
endessly
With you, my love,
We ask questions of fate,
that dies under rocks
unturned...
unheard...
Until the fate itself
loses its life
in a lost dream's unneeded
disguises
Our triumphs
call our dark moments reprieve
when all else fails
We lose our loves
in reprieves and dreams,
for our daring sanity
to stay brave
We call for each other's loves
to return like haunted dreams
To say for you my love. Unsaid.
And for me your love...
to never know
for sure...
RESTRICTED DIET –
JOURNAL IX
When digestion
falters
One’s favorite
dishes become an
internal poison
The ancient is
forced to start a
restricted diet –
No more pizza,
mashed potatoes and
gravy,
French fries
It seems all the
really rich, tasty
foods are
Forbidden
When we cheat,
overeat, stomach’s
revenge is
severe
Constipation grips
the old hind
quarters like
a nagging
wife,
or gas inflates the
gut to beach ball
proportion
Ah though, everyone
has a perfect
solution –
prune juice,
the gluten-free,
fiber to name
a few
These might furnish
temporary relief,
but, alas,
nothing proves
lasting
The release of gas
often proves one of
life’s
most precious,
enjoyable moments
In these last few I
vow a stoic
acceptance
C
The gambler-Loses our home-My husband.
Human life deserves a platform to unfold
Away from straitjackets of pious scrutiny
Whose eyes, ears and hands feel so cold
They reject freedom and project a mutiny
Born from the scorn society pours on freedom
Curtailing every progressive move towards expanding
Frontiers of free thought, thought outside the stricture kingdom
Where dissenters earn the label of antisocial branding
Perceived by untested notions whose dubious value
Lies in objecting to new ideas, new approaches
To matters where life suffers because critics with no clue
Claim innovations and expansions in thinking circulate cockroaches
In citadels that preserve culture and tradition
To limit the extent to which inhabitants expand the scope
Life ought to enjoy without any undue restriction
Imposed by custodians of traditions whose pope
Preaches limitations on abortion and exploration of modernization
In the wake of disruptive technologies
That spawn conundrums in which efforts of socialization
In traditional societies and African mythologies
Die a natural death
When social media facilitate new ways of communicating and connecting
Whose wealth and health
Diminish and extinguish mores, norms and customs, projecting
Arguments whose cogent basis tenuous at best
Can’t stand reliability and validity
Scrutiny and which traditionalists attest
Matter to defend the utility and solidity
Archaic notions offer to society’s progress
In which the worth and splendor of life
Matters more than efforts to suppress
Moves to eradicate and eliminate wife
Battery and slavery in the context of gender based violence
Rife in African townships and homesteads
Where traditionalists promote the importance
Domestic violence plays in subjugating stubborn heads.
Hatred is a sort of colonisation
It governs the heart
Like colonisation governs a colony
Where freedom is restricted
Love exhausted
Hegemony impudent
And the mind becomes a slave
Chronically angry and frustrated
And so a spiritual release is needed
Maybe through a religion
Or a blessing from God
I’ve been restricted from birth’
I was born with a leash
I’ve never been on land and I feel like a fish
Restricted like a boat caught on land
I cant float on shore because I’m stuck in the sand
Starving because of words that I ate
I can’t build a future and I can’t go on a date
I’m just an abandoned car left without rims
Even a cadaver dog can’t sniff the cent of my dreams
Dashed by my own flesh and blood
They say “Its thicker than water” but I’m stuck in the mud
My success is unfair to them’ and I don’t belong
So I decided to write this poem’ but it won’t to be long
Sometimes I wish I could swap with someone in prison
Because I’ve been stuck in this pit for long & I’m freezing
Restricted, by my own fear, to utter the whole story
Frightened by the servants who gave the devil glory
Perhaps on hind sight they may decide to add more time they may fix the presets
to make
them open they may even be more user friendly but they missed it for the first time around
how can you pretend to knoeledge when you hoard it when you keep it from the whole
crowd and dish it out with the silver spoon as pablum carping in a stream. Refusing to be
sane and safe you LORD it over otheres no Lord no power in your hand but the gang like
backing of the others of your kind insisting on rules that neither help or edify the group you
seem intent on making a world of non believers full of sin and queerness restricted in the
use of all equipment not needing more than querulous food fed inthevieniously overhead of
all the smarter ones never will agree this is exactly what it look likes this attempt at poetry is
a poor ensample of a poor example of a poor man attempting poetry. In other word the man
attempting to convey to the reader a poor understanding.
im restricted with youre choices
it makes me wanna cry
im surrounded by voices
that say, girl , why
youre amaizing and u know it
i dont have to say
i think youve forgotten but somehow it got away
he seems to control u
no matter what u do
its coming up sooooooo often but some how it gets to u
and baby dont defend cause i swear ill leave u in the end
I’m thinking about you, with somebody else,
Trying to resist the feeling, arrayed twinkles
The stars set high I can’t stop, gravity truly,
Has a place in the void of emotions, reeling,
Ever so close, to my tentative actions, fear,
I do the unthinkable, a shaky trespass and…
Let you stroll down,
Up,
Diagonal vectors,
The aspects of you in my mind, how was?
Your lunch hour, your Wednesday too?
Were you happy all day, did you play?
Those funny android games or slip away,
In your own thoughts, of a trip to be soon,
You in my arms,
Us,
Doing the various,
The mystery, triggered me then, quick,
I typed, and thought in the moment before,
I should write; I love you or goodnight.
Though love is restricted, I dare think,
In my simple words of bon nuit, you find,
Me close to you,
We,
Always have a code,
The trip we had, two years back taught,
The trees we planted months ago sway,
I must say, trust has a permanence,
It might not be said, but it lives in a place,
Restricted, no third party allowed, in it,
We try to restrain,
No!
Laws can’t separate us,
Known facts, trouble them silently, see
How they look at you when you read,
They feel your heart smile to my words,
That’s love, care and tenderness from me,
I put no restrictions to my genius words.
Carswell evoL
Eve, my Luv
wake up, lift your eyes unto the torch of my soul,
place your hand on the chest of my goal,
I've been sleeping anxious,
with your beating heart within the craddle of my ribs,
faithful for our Future, preparing for departure,
such as Monarch butterflies anxious for their flight,
like the ones that landed on your arms after we kissed,
Father is aware of our unrest,
but He remains unspoken,
He hears you say, " Life that will bring us Death..."
and thunder erupts, the breeze becomes wind,
a blood storm ensues in my Dream,
not as a nightmare of doom, but as a sign of life in full bloom,
our essence you will harbor in a Woman's womb,
Eve, the Daughter of Creation Itself,
the Mother of Humanity's imagination,
a Wife in my Manhood's wilderness,
Yesterday I went to where the unicorns play,
I told them stories about Love & Fate,
from their tears I made marriage bands
crystalized into the shape of Forever,
From this shelter we shall not sneak out
as rabbits from a burrow,
we will approach the Gate, hand in hand,
not as fugitives from fear, no,
instead we will tell the Angel to let us pass,
to let us walk into a dawn approaching fast
as Free creatures bold at last -
By Poet - Adam/J.A.B.
Tree branches inside
Elaborate orb of space
Confined, restricted
Kept tied together within
The great mother tree herself
Russell Sivey
Stuck in this bottle.
Where do I go?
I feel like I've lost all control.
This feeling it hurts.
I wish I could show.
My thoughts are consuming.
They even overflow.
This bottle is small.
My my aspirations are to large.
I wish I could finally take charge.
My mind was once beautiful.
My heart was once pure.
This world tore me apart.
It left me nothing more.
Just a little light to fix these dark clouds.
I'm all out of fight.
I started getting used to the night
You wish to roam free and not be blocked in,
But these rules and restrictions pop up once again,
They build up and block your way just like a fence,
You stomp then think of the jump which comes with a consequence,
So many things that cant be done,
Thats why people try to cheat in life by using a gun,
All you want is a little extra air,
Different people different rules is that really fair