Enigmatic entropy endeavours the devouring of my depressive tendencies
In the form of an effaced anonymity
Pledging a tender hand to thwart the destruction of my anatomy
Distraught estrangement of in-autonomous tailing tellings
Shall cast this faceless stranger astray
Beyond the smooth syllables of an identifying name
For these hounds that thrash in the thick of sleep
And so do weep of singularity in accompanying company
Shall chase, shall gnaw at the face, the hand that feeds the freer frailty of freedom
And chaff this chance of a chance to escape
These samsaras of silence for the requiem of a dallied day
Dancing and dashing and prancing and thrashing
In the estranged fixation of this strange savior
That wilt know not of my inner ills, beyond the disfigurement of mine own outer mutilation
K.M.P
18//9//26
Interpretations
Commentaries
And such
Seem to be
New stories..
Words explaining words
Dancing around a
Separation fixation..
FIXATION
Eager eyes and a hopeful heart
of innocent and pure intent.
Just to be in close proximity
gives smitten eyes their glint.
Clouds beneath infatuated feet,
lost in daydreams through the night.
Weakened knees and butterflies,
the tell tale signs of loves first bite
Who's not traversed that winding road,
whose ups and downs are not yet shown?
Each twist a chance to turn romance
into love, loss, or the friend zone.
It's a tight rope walk on eggshells,
drama traps made to anger or please.
Perchance you reach the other side,
and the juice just ain't worth the squeeze.
The lesson here, though all too clear,
is lost to infatuation.
Loyal and steadfast makes love last,
sparks are frivolous fixations.
He guards the perimeter of
my newly built life,
An unappointed warden to
his long- departed wife.
His surveillance is a shadow,
heavy and profound,
As his relentless, predatory
footsteps trace my ground.
He orchestrates a calculated,
unconcerned chase,
Inserting his fixation into
every public space.
My mailbox is violated,
stripped of its defense,
By his intrusive fingers and
his desperate, dark suspense.
He intercepts my letters with
a convert, hungry gaze,
To map the secret geography
of my escaping days.
Invisible tripwires hum with
electronic sight,
As hidden lenses pierce the
sanctuary of my night.
Those cold, robotic apertures
are blinking from the trees,
Recording every movement
on his digital decrees.
He is a phantom archivist,
compiling what I do,
An omnipresent voyeur of a
life he can't renew.
This suffocating vigilance,
this voyeuristic thrall,
Has turned my independence
to an exhibition hall.
He hovers like a specter in
an inescapable grid,
Unraveling the safety where
my fragile freedom hid.
A microscopic tyranny that
never lets me be.
When my world is otherworldly...
Built and bent on friction,
Often I make my escape
Into a form of fiction.
Whether book, a game or film...
Whatever entertains,
Its makeup can expand my mind
Without loss - only gains.
Words of something I can read
Ignite my imagination...
I see what is written in
A vision of creation.
Short or long, it doesn't matter...
Images in my mind
Can leave my otherworldly world
Somewhere far behind.
When I play a game, I can
Go somewhere else and be
Somebody on another mission...
Someone unlike me.
Strategically, I make my way
Until its campaign ends.
I can do this by myself
Or engage with my friends.
Watching videos of shows,
Movies and otherwise
Provide a feast of visions for
My open, hungry eyes.
I prefer to separate
What I view on the screen
From what can sometimes be in life
Better unheard or seen.
Fiction in its many makes
Can open and inspire...
Igniting what can be ablaze
With its own flames of fire.
When your world is otherworldly,
Try a piece of fiction.
The answer can sometimes be found
In another's depiction.
"I pick it up and turn to a random page and read a sentence - 'Nothing fixes a thing so firmly in the memory as the wish to forget it'."- Matt Haig
The poet's pen trembles and hovers...
inches from the page.
Mascara bleeds as tears smudge
lonely words in
tormented ink possessed with passion.
Infatuated vultures circle
waiting for memories to die but
they never do...
I have always had an eye out for chocolate
A dark skinned girl with glossy lips
Guess that's why I can't help myself
Every time I'm around all that sweetness
Its like a craving that never washes off your mouth
Cause everytime I'm this close
I can't help but lick my lips in anticipation
Looking at hers all the time
With my hands itching to trace my way
Over the fine canvas of dark beauty
Warm, heart racing over my touch, that always feels nice
With a great body scent once the wind blows
A dark chocolate complexion with her face glowing
Every time the sun touches her skin
Or as I'd pick her up from the hips
To lift her up like a trophy, but she's more of a crown
I've got my mind fixed on having me a dark skin
So that our kids turn out chocolate
It will be a chocolate dripping down our stairs
A lineage of people embracing our black beauty
The PO£T
While I pondered weak and worn
I'm so weary broken bones. These
Battered bones could not roam
Because when bones are busted it's
Brutally bothersome. Now look,
Imagine images of imaginary
Inferior superiority with this fixation.
Simply sample this story.
With wondrous worldly words
Wendy wondered why Barbra, Brian
And Bobby Barrington bounced on
Beds broken by boisterous
Bouncing.
At this hour the creative constitutional
Connection continued with worth
While comprehension where
Everybody's effortlessly elated
Excellently enthusiastically
Exercising exultation etcetera
Etcetera etcetera
Time sweeps away all the hurt
Water washes away all the dirt
The feeling component is how you're art
The healing component is now your heart
You are unbreakable in your hardest times, like a rock
Long hair, innocent eyes but seen sinful times, in your walk
Your breath gives birth to pain, like you're with asthma
Rage, you have but it swims in your veins, you're highly positively, I watch how I approach your plasma
A book is your emotions, I'm reading through the worst
Page after page, digging for the hidden Beauty in your Beast
Flowers don't pick themselves... I found you on the concrete helped you to rose
Dusted off the broken places you have been, and took your wiltered roots into the vase, allowed you to a rose
Donald Trump Fixation
This Donald Trump fixation
A ploy to blind the nation
For, he won't play by the bullies rules
So, the bullies keep the public fooled
22 July, 2018
Clerihew Contest
Sponsored by The Name Forsakes Me
Fixation of war engulfs the world
To take another person's land in the darkness
Dragging the life force out of good
Shoving change down another's throat
Creating equality that isn't pure or from the heart
Never to return in the womb of new life
Bowing heads of mercy slaughters
No peace of mind
No rest for the wicked
The body of the mortal shell shattered
The light of transfiguration will fade to nothing
The souls within hardens and humility will be long gone
Looking in her eyes
i see the brightest light to burn the skies
and wondered how i lived without her
a smile that would make me wanna start to say she opened up my heart
but then again i wrote it all in a letter
she makes my flaws so small
said you'll never have it all unless you own up to the things that make you tick
and ever since then i've been press set on building my respect so when we meet again you could be my chick
real ****
i don't wanna say i love you
and join in the abuse of the word that would best describe you
alternatives i try to but those are simply lies boo
i just wanna hide you
but you'll never shine so the freedom i''l provide
so that i could feel the pride
of that glimmer in your eyes
when you've gotten all you want
i just wanna hear you say tht i've been there from the start
We’re mostly big and contorted
From snacks and diets distorted
If you are still thin
You no longer fit in
Small portions our culture's aborted
Author's note: Just got back from the continent. People are still much leaner there than here. We need to stop filling ourselves and learn to be a little more satisfied with less. It is really OK. Now pass the fries please! BTW, the central market in Florence is a fantastic display of food love, yet the people there are thin. How can this be?
I've got a little problem
Some say it ain't so bad
But, yeah, I got a problem
I can't get you out my bed.
Hiding under my pillow
Or vanishing
Beneath the sheets
The blame I place
relates solely
to my need for relief.
I got a
Sexual fixation vexation,
How can I clear my soul?
Of this
Sexual fixation vexation
It owns my mind
and body whole.
His love for me was divine
My words he’d enshrine
But when it came to his mother
His devotion was deeper and subtler
All her suggestions were commands
This would be done on hands
Her failings he’d refuse to see
Even if it meant leaving me
Her power she wielded over him
Her terror shook his very limbs
His mother-fixation took its toll
Our marriage went on a roll
Its the kids who suffered the most
Of the sham marriage and love ghost
Inspired by a friend’s true story
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.