too hot to smile
too humid to move
too stagnant to do anything
July’s heat has incapacitated me
will August be a blazing inferno in Kansas?
or will autumn come early?
We are finite creations in an ever-expanding universe,
Kissed by the calcified stardust of epochs gone by.
Seized by trepidation and insecurities that stagger our growth,
Engrossed by a yearning to fit into societals manufactured boxes
Which consume creativity and individuality.
Incapacitated by force-fed paranoia,
Tormenting our artificially pristine panoramas with mangled wraiths —
Regurgitated pleasantries scribbled upon mass-produced pulp,
Courage stamped out by mass hysteria.
Revolving chains shackle dying hearts turning to stone;
Humanity hardens while heaven becomes further out of reach.
For every action has, even if unintentional, consequences.
We have silenced our own tongues,
Watched in desensitised horror as the world burns,
And now we stand frozen
As the earth cleanses itself of our parasitic invasion.
The little girl unfurls her dreams,
Bringing forth the visions within her.
Yet the night cloaks her dreams,
Blurring her vision.
Home was not a place of bliss;
The world felt like a bleeding star,
Gradually losing its brightness with each drop.
Each day brought its share of struggles, lack, and deprivation.
Her father was a peasant farmer,
Labouring to put food on the table.
But what becomes of the skills that prepare a child for tomorrow's demands?
He was later incapacitated,
Yet he held on until he was called to the beyond.
Her mother was a petty trader,
Doing everything she could to help.
Shattered by her husband’s death,
She lived in the shadows,
Where nothing worthwhile could bloom in the meadow.
Still, the little girl unfurls her dreams,
Though she was taken to a strange land.
The visions inside her found light;
Her aspirations reached great heights.
June 30, 2025.
A poor little girl's gone missing,
Where's the knight to rescue her,
There he is and he's insisting,
He will find poor little Blair.
First he found a treacherous lake,
Full of sirens so alluring,
Slaying them was a piece of cake,
And the bloody screams reassuring.
After sweet song came a homely village,
Full of helpful denizens aplenty,
They'd seen no girl so the knight did pillage,
Taking all til the town was empty.
With plunder from the raided village,
Was he ready to face the dragons visage,
The third hurde to be overcome,
Was real difficult, how irksome.
The dragon was immortal but slain,
Incapacitated for a bit, killed in vain.
To the girl the knight ran,
Justifying all that he had done.
The girl turned and her face was gone,
She'd no mouth with which to sing a song,
Her limbs were thin as twigs,
Her starved body as heavy as bricks.
The fire in her eyes was gone as well,
With no strength left to quell.
She was too far gone he said,
About her they didnt have to worry,
Off and rolling went her head,
The killing was a mercy.
To be further complete
it is dramatically necessary
captivating essence,
present hope,
adaptive ethics,
constant criticism,
coherent strength,
superconscious love,
wise life...
without that we are
practically incapacitated
to live joyfully...!
Green Goblin, Green Goblin, how terrible you are.
And only for a serum have you become a superstar.
A star of infamy and Spider-man’s worst foe,
spreading holy terror wherever that you go.
Aliases you have had, maybe up to five.
The third one, Dr. Bart, was not long alive.
As Norman, the original, you came back from the dead -
once again to fill our hero Spider-man with dread.
Norman’s son Harry used the serum too.
And Green Goblins many powers harry knew.
Superhuman strength and agility
and a genius too with regenerative ability.
Driven quite insane, you only wish to kill
and destroy all everywhere you’ve been.
“The five” incapacitated you, yet still
I bet we’ll be seeing you again and again.
March 22, 2023
Marvel Superheroes Supervillians And Superanimals Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Robert James Liguori
I am so blessed with family and friends
And a support system of caring neighbors
Who constantly embrace me with their love,
Along with a plethora of guardian angels
Who hover over me with tender care,
Guiding my footsteps through highs and lows
I never feel alone, you see; never neglected,
Knowing that someone special is always there
Offering assistance in my times of need.
Fortunately, so far, I can care for myself,
Doing the routine sorts of things life demands
But I know I can call on so many who will come
If I should become incapacitated or need help.
Such a blessing! For I know many who worry
That someday they’ll need help, to no avail,
I encourage developing ties with friends and family
For they are sources of comfort to folks like me
Who are living in the twilight years of life.
FOURTH PLACE WINNER
Written November 12, 2022
Submitted to "Best Blessing" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Regina McIntosh
The day I had pushed away and buried
Hidden away in the depths internally, I couldn’t hide that
I wish you were for eternity
Inevitable, and unforgiving
A swollen heart unready to let go
Life had said too soon that
Your last breath was overdue
I had watched you slip through my hands as
The ocean mourned through my eyes, death to withstand
Frailty soon to be over lament, crushed entirety
Where am I to find you, you cease to exist entirely
To think about the day, you hadn't had a choice to speak
Death of life, I am incapacitated by grief
For I can not surrender
With each breath, I take
With each heartbeat, I feel
With each thing, I see
With each sound, I hear
With each flower, I scent
With each being, I touch
With each fruit, I taste
With each step, I walk
With each moment, I live
I Thee glorify, my Lord, for all Thou blessings,
The blessings, that so many of my fellow men:
The deaf
The Mute
The blind
The chronically ill
The invalid
The incapacitated, and
The Paralyzed,
Never had the chance to enjoy them!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
15 July 2022
Just on the cusp of experiencing joie de vivre,
the triumvirate of Crooks and Quade
figuratively swoop down
to announce re: inspection
of apartment unit B44
whenever they deem appropriate.
Thus series of unfortunate events
(linkedin with bull limey
Lemony Snicket bro)
got sidelined nsync with
contracting a minor bout
with deadly Amish Flu
symptoms found garden variety reasonable rhymer
bedridden feeling a little horse and buggy (ha),
incapacitated to craft signature poetry writing.
An honest to dog confession
regarding hiatus spewing forth
vociferous versatile vocabulary
mine words - worth their weight in gold
(told woofer I do not know), nevertheless
included perusing a gamut of reading material.
The passion to engross intellect
witnessed courtesy immersing
attention, concentration, excitation
gratification, intoxication;
knowledge prized more precious
than fine spun gold.
Likewise crafting (albeit painstakingly)
elusive notions that flit
to and fro hither and yon
(analogous to ping pong ball)
within parameters of
microscopically crenellated
sixty plus shades of gray matter
also constitutes fervent interest.
Pushing cascades crest bastion, stomach lost
Largesse spread wafts orange blossom bridal
Bestows clouds let go to marshmallow moss
Fearless flight crinoline crash vertical
In gospel gothic deep chasm, drunk mink swims
Stirring fate, bleeding tea leaves bewilder
Leather gil quiver, loaded to the brim
Goddess mink Milda, silk coat cylinder
Poison spore auburn myrrh lassoo arrows
Immune audine preened, unwitting Otto
Seduced by sadist, dart sought embargo
Incapacitated poderoso
Discharged firearm, struck futile, fratenised
Love liege embalms gun powder, satisfied
Ninth February
Hijacked by
Milda Audine
The sparks in your eyes,
the persuasion in your voice,
I’m bewitched and it’s out of control;
Kamikaze pilot right into this spell,
becoming your submissive voodoo doll;
Left incapacitated by your fire
you walk me over such white hot coals;
Inhibitions melting under your wanton gaze,
I kind of like all these pins and needles;
I don’t want to comprehend you
it may break the spell;
Every chant you’re exactly my curse;
Uncovering every unreleased craving
I Succumb;
You leave me bewitched and longing.
What if
Matter whether or not
You think you choose to digest the
Red Pill
Or
Blue Pill
1 and only 1
Constant common thread
remains in tact
Somewhere hidden flowing
deep inside the main frame
An encrypted Code does exist
Beyond the many Firewalls
protecting it
Supplementing the Matrix
That could bring it to it's knee's
And so expose the endless litany
of lie's used to subjugate the masses
into willing servitude
And we're to awaken enlightened
to so much fresh new information
racing through your brain
You we're barely able to recollect
something as trivial as the simple
necessity of how important it is
to breathe
And that all this information your
brain is now trying to process
May possibly even kill you or turn
your brain to mush
And leave you in a vegetative
incapacitated state
Like you we're initially before
Only difference is that this may
be a far bitter pill to swallow
Being it's a toxic deadly mix of
1 part Red and other half Blue
And the side effects leave you in
a permanent comatose state
of mind
To suffer the consequences of
whilst in purgatory
Experiencing the dreaded silent scream again.
Doing my best to holler out my anxiety.
I may have a heart attack I think.
My heart is racing like it just lost the Triple Crown.
Fear has me incapacitated.
This nightmare is perpetually long.
I cannot handle much more of it.
I have a stern talk to my imagination upon awakening.
You are going to kill me for real! I warn her.
She smirks, gloats, and flits away, ignoring my requests.
Reminding me of my children.
I feel broken, incapacitated
This Migraine Disease has stolen
So much time from my life
But also the relationships
So many cannot cope
With someone with chronic pain
So we become unworthy
Slowly people lose touch
Or some create stories
To fit their agenda that
We don’t fit into anymore
We are not believed
We are histrionic
No one can have chronic pain that long
If we are lucky, we may have a few
Mostly our favorite Doctor, or a friend
That really truly get it but
It’s few and far between
Our families cannot cope
Because were broken
Unable to function in their world
So what were left is the loneliness
Of chronic pain
Let alone the pain
Our hearts are torn apart
As we
Become
Discarded.
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