Short Bound And Gagged Poems

Here I sit, as the King upon my throne.
Logic bound and gagged by Fight and Flight.
Amygdala, my Kingdom of hormones,
turn up heart rate, improve hearing and sight. 
Perspiration, my signature cologne.
...

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The average one is restrained by mental leashes 
Bound and gagged twenty four hours a day
A common trap that remains difficult to avoid 
The free one is overwhelmed with possibilities 
Too much to do in one day 
An uncommon landscape that remains hard to locate 
Barricades mold the thought process...

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Listen to poem:

free to dream
of thoughts that dare
reach out beyond confines

confines set by those
who would have us
bound and gagged

confines set by those
who have us grounded
and clipped our wings

by those misguided
who underestimate our spirits
free of shackles

if only in our minds



AP: Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2022

Posted on March 27, 2022...

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She makes me smile with her words
that she lovingly places there to see.
Does she know, just what she does
and how she truly affects me?
Her smile, infectious and so lovely,
casts light upon the common man.
There’s heat emitted from that gleam
that causes me to require a fan.
I cannot help but be a captive
held within her ropelike arms,
bound and gagged, beneath a smile.
For I’ve succumbed to all her charms....

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The lonesome tree can stand so proud,
By babbling brook, no friend is found,
Life is dark for all to see,
And evil hope is filled with glee.

The fish that swims with the current dies,
The desolate bird refuses to fly,
Life is dark, It laughs at me,
Bound and gagged in slavery.

Innocence lost, to be never found,
But lonesome tree is still around,
For when its all been said and done,
Life is dark and not much fun....

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This could be pain, this could be suffering. But it's not.

Taken from the darkness from which a home was made.

Thrown to the light, thrown into judgment, unknown.

An unbridle love, grown immense, not encouraged.

Chained down, bound, and gagged. Calling it vacation.

Eternity phones in, it will be late yet again, as always.

Universe in this hand…Oblivion in the other…

The show is over, here comes the applause...

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Fixed under water glass
Like a splinter beneath Poseidon's skin
There is no Sunday
And no one knows Rhyme
With her cool hands
And her goat's feet.

There are only
Walking dead
From whose wool-lined mouths
Pour blindfolds
And broken keys
Strangle holds
And bloody knees.

Rapunzel bruised
Left for dead forgotten
Bound and gagged
By her own golden hair.
Drowning in the Valium Bath
Warm and blind
Dying slow
But unaware....

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