labyrinth of emotions
punching my way out
scratched up fists
pum/mel ...... pound .….. pul-ver-ize
(left/right) (jab) (punch-down-out)
I am my mother’s verbal punching bag.
When she has a bad day, I pay the price.
I can’t stop her daily verbal attack,
Because nothing I do will e’er suffice.
The things she says are unforgivable;
Her insults are like acid on my hands.
Her kind comments have always been minimal,
But what else would you expect from my mom?
I pick at my fingers to help me cope,
And oftentimes, even that makes her annoyed.
So, for the sake of my skin, I hope
She’ll be a person I can fully avoid.
Her verbal abuse is shown through my fingers,
Through the dried blood and dull pain that lingers.
Do not try there is no use
You will only badly lose
Running will not do a thing
When I find you it will bring
Only more pain you caused this
When you took a closed up fist
Hitting my friend in the face
There is not a single place
You can hide so watch your back
There are bruises from the smacks
Many times you left on her
You are in a world of hurt
When I finally track you down
You'll disappear and not be found
From the rage that will come out
I'll be like a water spout
Sprinkling violence on you
And when I am finally through
With each shot and angry hit
I may throw another fit
Just to see the sight of you
Turn a lot more black and blue
You will be a punching bag
I will beat until you sag
Because you ran out of air
You can't breath and I don't care
I have this inkling feeling each time before i break
a tightness in my chest, i swallow air
and each time i want to discard every piece of you i own
but i forget, forget, forget
i close it off, i just don’t think about it
and silently i let you barge in on my space
and ask for more
all you do is ask for more
then good days turn into bad days
and all my good poetry turns into bad poetry
now i’m standing in the shower thinking over my day
you didn’t do anything but disappoint me
i didn’t get a lot of birthday wishes this year
nor did my grandma send me the right book
but i wasn’t upset, cause there was always you
not anymore, i guess
at least not the way i want it
you make a point of walking over me and then wiping your feet
and i make a point of breaking down and crying like a little kid
and i don’t know how to say that i want to go alone
since you’ll follow me anywhere
but i need you to stop being attached
attached to me, your punching bag
** A Very Memorable Christmas Present **
Someone made an err::
Boxing Day ‘ere’s
Been the day of — not after.
What started as the greatest
Christmas ever, turned
Us from better to worse
As our tempers grew, altered
After our fingers were slid into
Those gift-wrapped firm gloves of leather,
Punching through the room’s air
At each other
With words roused from harsh to meaner,
‘Till our referee pup barked
To end our Round 1, forcing a turnover
Into creating a round of rich laughter.
Re-freshed, happier, remembering our
Proper manners appropriate to honor
Our Savior’s birthday…We resolved
A return trip to the store to trade
That shared present of boxing gloves for
A healthier, sturdy set of parallel bars.
————————————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 12/25/22
Happy Birthday, King Jesus
Everyday feel’s like
I’m life’s punching bag
It’s making all of its hits
Precise and effective
Man, getting tired of it
But what can I do
If I’m just the punching bag
Not much I can do
However, the end goal
Is not to break apart
No matter how hard life hits
I still stay intact, mentally and physically
If I could grow arms and legs
I’d start sparring with life
Hit it with a left hook
To show it the pain it gave me
But I can’t, so
I stay intact and focus
Not letting it’s punches wear me out
I’ll stay strong and firm
I’ve gotta stay strong
Because one day, I’ll punch life back
their bruises go
spent the whole day without using the
spent nearly a full day using the
Tried only talking in song titles
created silent phonetics
bet my eyes to stay shut
cant see them doing it
turned alight switch nearly off
or was it on
What does blue sound like
type the word as many times as you can
until your
try to design a seat if all my joints were inverted
how come there isn't a peace event in the Olympics- shooting boxing
humanity how you make me chuckle
Sometimes could watch that oil slick waterfall you created consume you all
if if it wasn't for kindness i would kill you all
what does the world look like for Taz
what flavour Pikachu
Pickled Rickily
Happy birthday Surprise
this is your you birthday party
stretch the freee with the ease of an e
for always got got
one just gone
A Carolina Wren
jabs and weaves
hopping in and out
of a ring of sunlight,
it has pugnacity,
but the cat creeping near
does not care.
My feelings of adoration turned abruptly~as I got numb to your hits
Alexis Y.
12/22/19
Frustrations
By Charles G.P. Chard 2nd
Chevra Gavri Hanita Hazaka Abir Selek 2nd
Computers are a very needful thing,
In this day we live in,
Their programs and your thoughts do not agree,
Frustrations and anger set in,
It constantly will not do what you need done,
You feel like punching it out,
Why programs can’t be made simple and easy,
Relieving you from frustrations and anger,
Is there some program that will manage what you need done?
Can this program be found anywhere on the internet,
Frustration and aggravation,
Anger and hopelessness,
Who can help with such a complex task?
Giving hope and peace of mind,
Why do these computer complexities happen?
Does no one care that there are others like me?
Can no one solve the problem?
Up set, unrest,
Perplexity and non comprehension,
Fingernails sliding down a blackboard,
A piercing yet disturbing sound,
Skin crawls,
What can we do? what should we do?,
But live with hopelessness, in despair, frustrated and angry.
Do not try there is no use
You will only badly lose
Running will not do a thing
When I find you it will bring
Only more pain you caused this
When you took a closed up fist
Hitting my friend in the face
There is not a single place
You can hide so watch your back
There are bruises from the smacks
Many times you left on her
You are in a world of hurt
When I finally track you down
You'll disappear and not be found
From the rage that will come out
I'll be like a water spout
Sprinkling violence on you
And when I am finally through
With each shot and angry hit
I may throw another fit
Just to see the sight of you
Turn a lot more black and blue
You will be a punching bag
I will beat until you sag
Because you ran out of air
You can't breath and I don't care
My glasses flew in no direction
as your punches hit me with no restriction.
My jaw became your punching bag
and my face you gave many slaps.
The punches you gave me followed the rhythm of my heart
and I said to myself "I´m going to die".
I looked at you as you kept hitting me
and I said to myself, "no, it´s not him".
You pulled me by my hair like I was a doll
and I kept praying it would all stop
but then your punches followed
and my tears fell without control.
I tried to run away from you
but you pulled me back like I was a trash bag.
I defended myself with all the strength I had
and you just swatted my hands away like I was an annoying fly.
The next thing I heard was the scream of my tearing blouse,
the jerking of my fancy bra,
the protestation of my jeans you kept pulling
and my panties you ripped away from my body...
Punching Bag
Revile Men who gloat and brag
that wives are their punching bag.
Deplore women also, who mull
wielding Tool to "castrate the Bull!"
Husbands and Wives, alike
must unhook from Anger's spike!
For, both need each other 24/7
and, must not be parallel like 11!
25th September 2013
My fingers press on
blue batterings
for the craft of lavishing
all the things that mattered
not a week ago.
I try to hate you
like a sticker on my puckered mouth
to take the light from my eyes
to make you rage and lash
crashing your jaw to think
that I don't love you
To incite you to be an animal
to make you wrong
to diguise my guilt
like beating my own hands
and making a messy red
confusing the culprit and victim
If I am blue, there's not pain
I can escape if I fall where I stand
by your hand, my bruises won't ache
these stinging scrapes know the red shape
of your fist, my comfort, my peace
rolling in sticker bushes
held hard to your young face
only happy, like a radio song
hands planted in wealth
my soft heart, my eden
pulling me out like a flower
toppling my knees like towers
tracing circles on my skin
How can I not win?
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