Disassociate Poems | Examples

The Great American Fallacy

Something caught between the eyes of fellowship and the riddle of thought makes any setting unforeseeable. Yet, within the mannerisms of those declawed by the very societies they themselves conceived armed only with a utility belt of miraculous misconceptions springs forth exponential, autonomous growth, promised by the ancestors of preconceived notions.

Most often, the spirits of ideas formed upon the fragile spine of inadequate frequencies press us all into a reliable destination, one mastered only through performances of unseen archetypes, driving this windowless vehicle we insist on calling time.

My augmented delusions, I admit, disassociate from the fermentation of your reasoning, and so taint our deductive search for the emotions we struggle to preserve. The tropes of an enigma’s fragrance intoxicate the cerebral moments of free thought, undermining even the simplest reproductive solutions for advancing communication.

And so, as I tear this parchment, I summon an opportunity. Yet what a cumbersome opportunity it is.

How Can You Call Yourself A Christian

[Verse 1]
We're supposed to be the good guys
We're supposed to love, love, love
But I just can't see it
these days when I look at us
[Pre-chorus]
You gotta beam in your eye but you point your finger at me!
Turning up your nose, thinking you are better
Spreading hate…spreading hate you disassociate with sinners
[Chorus]
Do not take the Lord's name in vain
Making us feel ashamed
When we accept Jesus into our lives
We take His name, the name of Christ
It's such a shame …all this dissension 
How can you call yourself…a Christian
[Verse 2]
We're supposed to reflect his light
But the light shines brighter in the darkness
Not so each fault and sin can be seen
So they'll see God's light Shining through me
[Tag]
Judge not that ye be not judged
Love how Jesus loves
Judge not that ye be not judged
Love how Jesus loves
How Jesus Looooooooovvvveeeessss!!!!!
[Chorus]
Do not take the Lord's name in vain
Making us feel ashamed
When we accept Jesus into our lives
We take His name, the name of Christ
It's such a shame …all this dissension 
How can you call yourself…a Christian!?!
How can you call yourself…a Christian,!?!

disordered

am i going crazy?
those words will consistently ring out in my head
like a bomb that has just struck land
sometimes it feels like you're walking on eggshells
forever i am labelled as i am unbalanced
unstable
my head is so loud
but so quiet at the same time

like the silent whirring of tv static
head-splitting chattering is buried deep within my brain
they are just parts of me
i am not insane
just disordered
i begin to disassociate 
and ill detach from this place
maybe soon ill function properly 

maybe you'll realize i am not insane
and just coping

how did i end up this way?

The State of Dis Union

Welcome to The State of Dis Union. 
Here are some “dis” words to describe The State of Dis Union.
Dismantle, disruptive, disagree, disrespectful, distract,
Disappointing, disable, discredit, disregard, disobey,
Dislike, disloyal, dislocate, disaffiliate, disrepute,
Disgrace, disaffirm, dishonest, disembark, disinfect
Disgusting, disturbing, dismiss, discontinue, disarm,
Disconnect, disorderly, disassociate, discreet,
Disapprove, dissent, dispute, disorientated,
Disorderly, discord, disadvantage, disbelief,
Displeased, dislodge, disclaim, dishonor, distant,
Disarray, disconcerted, disintegrate, disinform, 
Dismal, disown, dispatch, disparity, disguise,
Discriminate, discard, dissolve, distort, distrust,
Discombobulated, disband, discountenance, disaster…

Yep, sounds about right.

never blaming her mother

The child could disassociate rapidly when she had to
She had plenty of practice
Thanks to her mother bringing home new daddies
Some had not been kind to the little girl

She had gotten used to staying in the corner
While things were done to her body that she did not like
She could weasel out of herself quickly
Before she knew she was going to be uncomfortable

Never blaming her mother
Who was usually passed out on the couch
The little girl did what she could
To preserve lightness of her soul

Detaching herself from the scene
At a moment’s notice
When the daddies came calling
As her selfish mother slept.

To Disassociate

First I feel it rushing through my head
The lighting dims, My vision blurs 
And nothing around me makes sense
This is where I start to fade 
Or a More proper term would be this is where I start to dissociate
Or at least that's what the doctors say it is anyways
But not for me you see
It's different to experience it 
It's like I'm shifting 
As I enter into another dimension an alternate reality
Where I'm me but somehow different 
How do I explain how it feels to have to live this 
And right about now I've lost all my senses and I'm about to pass out 
I fall fast to the ground 
But I guess I'm use to this by now 
When I feel like I'm someone else but I'm still me somehow

It's Getting Late

From where I sit;
From my perspective;
From my point of view;
The lines are clearly drawn.

I need no further debate,
Because the hour is late.
I do not halt between two opinions,
And I need no further persuasion.

A clashing of principles has
Brought us to this occasion,
And the moment is neither
Perfect nor pretty.

There is a clarion call and
At this juncture, none must stall
Because the opportunity for change
Is now, and the hour is very late.

In a way of speaking,
Sometimes all the choices are evil,
But we do not have the luxury
To disassociate or disconnect.

The times have arrested and captured us.
Duty has obligated us, demanding that
We act prayerfully and wisely.

The love search

Don’t know what love is but I know what it isn’t
Trying to hold onto something reminiscent 
Anger, malice, and strife
Words cutting deeper than any knife
Fear creeping in and suffocating all logic
Replaying the past as if it’s chronologic
Picking up shards, bloody hands wrapped in cloth
Trying to drown out their intentional scoff
Empty apologies tossed at your feet
Like something you can’t return without a receipt 
Repairing lost self esteem
Behind closed doors live things unseen
Patterns that are toxic 
Gripped from the inside, can’t breathe, anoxic.
Feeling depleted 
Trauma so deep seeded
Trying to escape the explosive anger, 
slamming doors, and repeated clangor
Nightmarish grips on your heart
Leave you longing to depart
Feeling trapped in this dance
Fight or flight stance
Disassociate or try and negotiate 
I long to break the vicious cycle 
To one day have peace be the title

Pretty Lies

All the pretty lies 
That fill my brain
All the pretty lies telling me
I’m insane

So i take a blade to my arm
Then wear hospital socks to hide the scars
Disassociate as to not raise alarm

All the pretty lies you fed
Telling me I’m better off 
Dead

All the pretty lies 
you thought me
Told me me can harm me

So i let him in my bed
In my head
Father words 
Telling me not to fight

So i laughed
And giggled
And sent him pictures
He then used to get me to vape

Momma doesn’t know 
i used to use
All the nights she 
used to ask why I’m so tired

All the nights she asked about
“That new bruise”
The one that came from you punching me

All the lies you fed
Are the reason 
I will be dead.

Adumbration

Midnight, bewitching hour
full of horripilation

Car door slam-bang
and the warble act begins

No,no, I scream inside 
the verisimilitude of what will now ensue

I am a powerless protégé 
a stand in for the only one who
could save me
but she doesn’t 
either by ignorance 
or choice 

I sit in a chair
weeping in despair 
inside aching 
trying not to play in hedonistic 
Unholiness 

I disassociate my mind
saving me 
from the actuality of the death
I so desperately need to leave

Disassociate

Distorted gnashing puppet teeth
Not my face not my face 
My limbs are tied by spider webs and I am floating
Why are they staring 
They are not staring 
But why are they staring 
What do I look like?
Why do I look like that? 
Papier-mâché heart crumples and the face melts under the pressure of streams from the eyes 
Whose tears are these? 
Hopeless

Spoon Bender

I’m suspended in mid-air
As I begin to look upon and stare 
At the body which was mine of late
Before I chanced to disassociate. 

When I cry out no one hears me
All because they cannot see
The specter of myself I’ve made,
And live ears are deaf to ghost’s tirades. 

The lone fly keeps buzzing by and by
And I just want it to die
When it lands and vomits on my hand,
So I swat at it and finally stand. 

I have returned presently
To that distant figure that was me,
And I remember suddenly
That this is how it will always be
Living in this home’s reality so warped
And sleeping at night next to a corpse.

Being One

Severe your consciousness

From the illusory

And connect to the matrix

With intuitive clarity

Disassociate from all attachments

Let your essence go and flow free

Meditate upon your chakra bliss

Be mindfully aware of everything

Disconnect from form and structure

Be as energy, be one with universe and nature

Coalesce with all spirit forms

Let being one become the norm

Reject separation and division

Make the human race one

Once more.

In the Heat of the Moment

In the Heat of the Moment

What do you do when you get in those
awkward positions where you just don’t
know what to do?

I mean, you know that you should
tell, but you’ve been conditioned
by the culture not to.

Snitches are persecuted and ridiculed.
They become outcasts as the masses
disassociate themselves from such a man.

So in the heat of the moment, you stop
and let the madness continue before you.

You try to carry on as if you saw nothing,
but something inside of you tells you that
you should have spoken up about what
you just saw.

Don'T Doubt For Misunderstanding

Because one does not know is not reason to disbelieve
Even being in the show you still bow down and grieve
You're mind being very petite in comparison to it all
And so your mind does retreat in adding to one's fall

Because you're not sure you choose to disassociate
As if you have such a cure for all of mankind's fate
Often making mistakes obviously not being perfect
In a world so full of fakes it is His Light I see reflect

Always so disparaging where His Love is always kind 
And with what do you bring in your God given mind 
A shallow and broken vase without His Loving Hand
Even the flowers so do praise and better understand

You can't comprehend the magnificence of His Way 
But the message I send in so being is do not betray
For you may well be wrong as you have been before
Never to hear Angels in song not with what's in store

John 4:36	
And he that reapeth receiveth wages, 
and gathereth fruit unto life eternal:
that both he that soweth and he that reapeth 
may rejoice together.

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