Long Defense mechanism Poems
Long Defense mechanism Poems. Below are the most popular long Defense mechanism by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Defense mechanism poems by poem length and keyword.
This thick mucous essentially
the defense mechanism of a healthy
body electric to restore biz zee nose
as usual, which for this mild mannered
liberal leitmotif from the chronicle of one
matted nattering nabob of nativity attests
congested mob functioning like
a well lubricated machine, yet
for the life of me, nary a handy dandy
blues clues evident as per, how
the human entity empowered
to steamroll over
any reasonably annoying bugaboo.
Ah, now if only a similar innate
defense mechanism arose
within the mental health,
that would be a supreme testament
to thine atheistic tasty mints of miracles
minus the attendant pharmacopeia
of this, that or some other drug to aright
skewered psyche (of this contemplative,
emotive and intuitive literate outlier),
whose sixty two plus eight shades
of gray matter went awry and skewed
toward tipping point (to cope with ordinary
cares and concerns of an uncertain
whirled wide web) found the bulk
of his life riddled with a joe king,
gun slinging tub back ha chew win,
bard **** wordsmith,
who doth newt like to utter any
cryptographic crossword.
I have forgotten how to feel;
With each punch even more damage done;
The moments I should remember slowly fade;
Defense mechanism for the ones
who love too much;
Possessing the heart of a champion
battle worn with emotional amnesia;
Emotions erupt with pain
and become embers of an internal fire;
Gaping wounds delay my response;
Muffling every instinct
numb to the warmth of sentiment;
Trying to give happiness
the benefit of the doubt
I enter the ring;
Beaten over and over
barely making it out;
Left bloody;
I have forgotten how to feel
breathing through the pain;
Still my champion’s heart beats;
Determined;
Demanding I remember
the giddy of happily ever after
and the promise of new beginnings.
Late spring
and the opening gasps
of summer’s blazing promise
bring whirling dark clouds,
horizontal rain,
fierce weather,
warning horns,
my blackness,
horizontality,
downright mean melancholy,
and warning signs
worthy of attention.
I much prefer lazy storms
that I can listen to
at night in bed
after I’ve closed my book
(a defense mechanism
so that the day doesn’t end
and I’ll not have to live today
again tomorrow).
It’s neutral in that dark dark,
my ears fine-tuning my mood,
thunder a tympanic counterpoint
to the forgetting I know is coming
with the assistance of
my nightly psychotropic,
without which I don’t sleep,
without which I
descend into despair.
My familiar,
outside of me,
sits patiently
in the chair across the room,
legs crossed casually,
cigarette dangling from
the first two fingers of his left hand,
waiting for dawn,
knowing that the overcast
will return tomorrow,
and I’m his again.
During these shadowy times
my dreams are the old ones
of failure and inadequacy
of such intensity
that I force myself awake
to make them stop,
my pounding heart
and short shallow breaths
lingering.
Oddly though,
bright days don’t always bring
an equivalent measure
of pleasant dreams,
say, pastures of flowers,
faces I love,
chocolate,
tints of sweet colors.
Instead there is nothing,
and I wake knowing only that
while I slept
no psychic comedy played for me,
no balance or compensation offered
for the drama of gray day theater.
I pretend I'm alright
And put my best stance forward
Wear my brave face
Tryin to be smooth
Just tripped on my shoelace
What's a girl to do
Busted, razed, flat broke
My foot slipped off the pedal and into the spoke
Out of focus, idling, coasting on fumes
Myyyyy, mmmm, my oh my
Must retreat to my bedroom
For slumber; ugh - that noxious perfume
I sprayed on today
In the department store
I don't need to tell you
It reeks
That's a big pee you
Oh my
My plan has gone awry
I try to write
After listening to Vile
He inspires me
Perspiring
Thinking bout how to
Ink brilliance
Such as he
Slamming on the brakes
My leg itches
Ya damn flea
Bravado and all
I seem to fall
I spiral out of control
Resilience reels me back in
I'm a bouncy, buoyant, headstrong girl
Go ahead and believe what you want
Self deprecation is my defense mechanism
Keep playing
those cards close to your vest
You're bluffing fool
I know this by now
Prevaricator is a might big word
For liar
As you try to set the world on fire
I see you race away
And turn my head
Pretending not to see
When you visibly disgust me
You're not proving anything
With your ostentatious
Obnoxiously awesome self
Annnnnything
I ain't seen before
And won't soon forget
I'm a rhyming
tonight
Maybe filled with fright
Or could it be boredom
Delirious laughter
G'night
Sleep and clarity are what I desire
Slough off this crap
I know it's beyond time for a nap
My RPM is slowing
My aching for REM is growing
Copyright June 17, 2023 Lori Steindorf
. . .
I don’t feel like doing anything. . .
And yet here I am, writing again. . .
Punctured thoughts gushing redness of frustration and disgust,
Black rivers flowing and intoxicating the remaining blemished white of reality,
Stuck in this brain,
Wracking desperately for order and purpose,
I want to be perfect,
And yet the concept of perfection in certain viewpoints is downright sickening,
Puking out flaws. . .
Diseased in the mind. . .
Stretching out in exhaustion. . .
Not wanting to feel the numbness of nothingness,
And yet not wanting to face the day. . .
I am angry at my life. . .
Scared of what’s coming—of what’s not coming,
I damn my aching mentality into the dark depths of arbitrary emotion. . .
No one gives a sh*t. . .
So who cares if it overflows?
Asphyxiating my very existence,
Hope springing to mind for s p l i t moments,
Then fleeing like a damned jackrabbit in heat,
Wanting its companion,
Playing hard to get—becoming hard to get,
I hate. . .
I love. . .
All in one.
The emptiness is almost welcoming,
But the sun refuses to shine there in that strange pleasure. . .
I feel the earth below me as splintered pictures wisp around me,
The days I’ll never miss,
The days I have come to wish were my present,
And those days that will never leave me the hell alone. . .
I think we all feel it,
Justin different ways. . .
The rubber bands on her braces snapping. . .
Saliva squirting out and splashing me in the face. . .
Is there a reason my stomach wants to melt and fold over?
Webs keeping them intact,
So intricate—yet delicate
Her eyes popping out of her head,
Violence surging in her like a mad dog,
Drooling and snapping its folded-skinned jaw,
Tightened buds blooming blasphemy,
Forces, vile forces spurting out in cuss words. . .
Like it’s just a regular day. . .
I’m staring at them all. . .
I am crowded and so sacredly alone here. . .
I sense madness,
But that’s just another defense mechanism I have formulated in the imagination,
If I am mad,
WE ALL ARE. . .
I was never there to begin with. . .
When I was just a little boy
we picnicked under alpine skies,
one time a mule deer strolled out
and fed in the meadow nearby.
Tall, curving antlers rising up
from a regal, tan-grey head
“The finest buck I’ve ever seen,”
were the words my father said.
Then I noticed something moving,
a tawny shape slinked through trees,
suddenly my father leapt on up
and put himself in front of me.
But it wasn’t me in danger,
though the cougar inspired fear,
that stealthy cat had yellow eyes
fixed upon the stately deer.
“Get on out of here!”Dad shouted,
and the deer froze in alarm,
out bounded the great cougar,
In one leap moving so far.
Then the buck, he startled,
In a stott he flew away,
for a few frantic moments
the cougar, he gave chase!
But cougars are cast as sprinters,
not built for marathons,
in seconds the cat gave up
and the buck kept running on.
That’s what I remembered
as a boy of only four,
though when I did grow older
I remembered something more...
I could recall the flashing teeth
plunging into the deer’s neck,
I could recall my mother screaming,
my dad shouting,”Get back!”
I remember seeing the cougar
stare back and snarl at us,
and I remember leaving quickly,
my dad picking me up.
I suppose that my young mind
had to block out what I’d seen,
far too young to deal with it
I started misremembering.
A strong defense mechanism
built up by the conscious mind,
but the subconscious saw it all,
and waited patiently for its time.
It reappeared at twelve years old,
the truth my youth blocked out.
It had an effect, a serious one,
it filled my head with doubts.
How could such violence coexist
with a world of such beauty?
And if that proud deer went down,
what awaited a budding teen?
Pondering such for long hours
did not make me popular,
yet the more I blocked it,
the more uncertainty stirred.
I kept asking those deep questions
about power, evil, and will,
unaware that they’d stymied
minds of far better skill.
To this day I have no answers,
though asking was good for me,
turned pondering into a job
writing pop philosophy.
All of it traced to that day,
my first brush with mortal fear,
when I learned Earth is the type of place
where the cougar eats the deer.
Misunderstanding life lessons
striving to be all we can be
hoping to change another
wishing for close bonds
fearing being alone
thinking money the solution
expecting acceptance from all
searching outside of self for answers
using excuses to avoid accountability
avoiding healing to keep codependencies
focusing on others life to avoid own
blaming to justify actions
projecting pain as a defense mechanism
diminishing self for comfortability
agreeing to avoid conflict or enemies
missing unconditional love never experienced..
Life is within, but without outside experiences, personal development
for perseverance, resilience, and character can't be shaped;
love, acceptance and validation are within so you won't go without.
COLLABORATION WITH SABRINA DEI ARCI
In the depths of her web,
a heart beats cold and nil.
Lust and danger intertwined,
in a deadly gash and spill.
Caught in her Venus trap, entangled sap,
unable to flee her anatomy,
A widowmaker's allure, a haunting anomaly.
(First chorus)
Widowmaker-Black -- Widowmaker heart -.
Heart beats so cold, and traps, dethroned takers -
Widowmaker-pasts', skeletal bones,
get lodged in Her lap as you're threaded along.
Down at the rainbows end
How can you be so happy alone,
You go into sudden death
Set on your Dungeoness Game of Thrones
Parade round your web-bedded heart-
Guest book, ledger is signed in blood
Queen to his rookie rook,
taken as if he were merely a pawn.
(First chorus)
Widowmaker-Black -- Widowmaker heart -.
Heart beats so cold, and traps, deathroe time-makers -.
Widowmaker-maps', echoing moans,
get lodged in her lap as you fall forth headlong.
(Second chorus)
The hourglass sands are gone -
Like a window to his soul -
Let off the strange trip you're on -
Spellbound bound by Faith No More.
(3rd Chorus Mix)
Down at the rainbows end -
how can you be so happy alone -
Haven't you ever found someone -
someone you want to call your very own-
With each broken heart, she builds her walls higher,
a wounded soul, consumed by her own fires.
But you will taste your own burn replacing desire -
Sow your own venom -
Scarred by love's betrothed in it's mire,
she fears to let anyone enter in, Her inner sanction,
a defense mechanism instead of tears that shed
beneath her skin.
(First chorus)
Widowmaker-Black -- Widowmaker heart -.
Heart beats so cold, back for the attack +
Widowmaker-laughs', at marital bones,
they're lodged in your trap as you thread them along.
(Second chorus)
The hourglass sands are gone
Like a window to his soul -
Maybe she'll keep this single one -
In her dimension, of faith of love to restore.
Shadow-lover -Laughs -- Pleased on her Medjool...
I ham quill tee for gobbledygook...
and ruffling tail feathers!
An innocent miss steak kin...
once former main lion den cha hoard servant,
resident iz cow herd vegetarian boar
hoof faux whatever reason iz explore
ring bing foo fighting beastie boy, who doth
newt practice, what he preaches your
truly battens down chicken
coop hatches so... call me galore
re: us hypocritic,
this honest to dog omnivore – more
accurate said buzzfeeding primate -
*****sapiens, he whelk hams
adieu after quick bonjour
hears ear splitting eeyore
deaf finning chore
tills unable to ignore
admits transgression,
now wonder wherefore
whether art thou still
game to reed my adore
hub bull poetry
understandable if ye deplore
such atrocious, egregious, opprobrious...,
violating ethical core
puss regarding straying
against dietary herbivore
rudimentary eel lamb ants
(chocolate covered my dear Watson)
boot fault in the starfish...por
favor mice elf can
oxe plain twittering like plover
with reasonable rhyme for sure
don't get doggy dimples in bunch
cause to skewer me but... but before...
sending killing squad to slaughter -
this puppy, aye kindly honour
my wish and don
me noggin with pompadour
as fetching drag queen
torpedo sized bosom
squirting parti-color
milk as self defense mechanism
averting casus belli thus
amidst melee I abhor
find self on horns of dilemma
life story of this poor
cooked goose flambé
caught between rock and trapdoor
special cannibal delight
where madding crowd
chants "send him back"
accursed unconscionable roar
ring anger, but lurch for eats,
an impulsive reflex courtesy extempore
rain nee yes unforgivable poor
craven impulse to up peas hunger
uncontrollably craving regarding carnivore
pang additionally not further injure
ring innocent animal plus more
to this fishy tail than
meats the Wawa birdseye.
I ham guilty for gobbledygook...
and ruffling turkey feathers!
An innocent miss steak kin...
once former main lion,
resident iz cow herd vegetarian boar
ring beastie boy, who doth
newt practice, what he preaches your
truly battens down chicken
coop hatches so... call me galore
re: us hypocritic,
this honest to dog omnivore – more
accurate said buzzfeeding primate -
*****sapiens, he whelk hams
adieu after quick bonjour
hears ear splitting eeyore
deaf finning chore
tills unable to ignore
admits transgression,
now wonder wherefore
whether art thou still
game to reed my adore
hub bull poetry
understandable if ye deplore
such atrocious, egregious, opprobrious...,
violating ethical core
puss regarding straying
against dietary herbivore
rudimentary eel lamb ants
(chocolate covered my dear Watson)
boot fault in the starfish...por
favor mice elf can
oxe plain twittering like plover
with reasonable rhyme for sure
don't get doggy dimples in bunch
cause to skewer me but... but before...
sending killing squad to slaughter -
this puppy, aye kindly honour
my wish and don
me noggin with pompadour
as fetching drag queen
torpedo sized bosom
squirting parti-color
milk as self defense mechanism
averting casus belli thus
amidst melee I abhor
find self on horns of dilemma
life story these of this poor
cooked goose flambé
caught between rock and trapdoor
special cannibal delight
where madding crowd
chants "send him back"
accursed unconscionable roar
ring anger, but lurch for eats,
an impulsive reflex courtesy extempore
rain nee yes unforgivable poor
craven impulse to up peas hunger
uncontrollably craving regarding carnivore
pang additionally not further injure
ring innocent animal plus more
to this fishy tail than
meats the Wawa birdseye.