Torturing Poems

Intrusive Thoughts

There’s a monster menagerie inside my mind
these beasts are not cute, cuddly, or kind
they enjoy torturing my thoughts at night and all day
I’ll introduce you and tell you how each one behaves

First we have the notorious, "Nadine- NooneLikesYou”,
Then “Walter- You’reWorthless” is in my mind too
Here is “Rita Repeater” who never lets me forget
“Lala” likes words like Limacine, Lugubrious illiterate.

Meet “Tutoo”, who says “too fat, too old, too dumb to think
and "Christopher Critic" who says this poem stinks
If you know my monsters, I really feel for you...
This makes them seem funny but we know that’s not true.

Ear-Splitting, Liver-Bellied Bullying

plink, plink, water in the sink
sinks slowly into budding suds
torturing the pans and fork tines
who want cascade - show on the road
plink, plop, hands over ears, now stop
but slowly the spatter of drops
like the slow go of a rain storm
keep habitating, repeating
their ear-splitting, liver-bellied
bullying of the spoons and cups
the apron-covered giant turned
off the faucet, threw in the rag,
then the sponge, ew…her hands with gloves
now each piece, that is us, is scrubbed
and ah, true running water-rush
each of us towel dried, put ‘way
from nightmarish brutality
we rest…we rest..until lipstick
lands on the side of grinds in cup
and pan slams onto surface heat
in other words, we get beaten
then comes water in sink, awaken
the bully who sleeps eight hours
look forward to vacation, hers!

The Ghost She Left Behind

The world got caught under her breath
They could never hear her precious mumbling, only realized when she left

One second she was there
One second she was floating in timeless air

In a wisp of whimsical space
She would show her elegant face

A polaroid of a perfect smile
Commanding regretful tears and remembrance of all the distant years

Her blood was on the hands of many, 
No one predicted the coming tragedy

Her life not quite a blissful blur
But rather a silent stab of sadness

She left no note or collective clues 
That might have calmed you

No lying lyrics that provoked pointless pity in 
Some that might have said torturing her was comedy

She only left a small reminder to anyone who could find her

And that is this…

“Dying is easy my friend, living is harder.”

When you having bad day

When the world hates you
It's such a lonely place
Crawling out of bed each day
Forgotten in each and every way
Grasping at straws to build nest
Every minute is a torturing test
Blow away by unkindness
Held together buy a fine web
Of sorrow and unhappiness
Each word thrown your way
Cut like a knife through softened clay
Leaving a scar and empty space
Not winning at life's pointless race
Burdened by life's past actions
Push till they get their reaction
Life is a lonely road
Where you must walked alone
Indeed I need a angel
Or a new end to my fable
 
Last year I grew up to late
To now realize my fate
Of a life not to be enjoyed
But to be endurable enough
To make getting up tomorrow
Seem like a plan living on time borrowed
To hate is to love and to love is to hate
Will I ever be happy with my fate

VULNERABLE

Life hit me hard on the face
I became vulnerable 
Even when I know many
It's like I know none
None is ready 
To support or give a helping hand.

Everyone wants me to be loyal
Even when they know I am royal 
Everyone wanna bend me
Even just for bread 
They only come after me
Anytime I'm down and vulnerable.

Life keeps teaching 
People kept on torturing 
None wanna nurture
Even when we're same culture 
They still act like vultures
Steady leisure 
Without rendering any support.

Unspoken Affections: Part-IX

if I could fly in the sky, I will declare my love to the people on ground
If I could talk to the birds, I will ask them to add some melodies in the scene
But you stood across the road, denying something you started
The look from your eyes and its torturing action- my cheeks grew warmer
But something in this moment without you, I feel how far we really are
Our places close but hearts still hundred miles far
My desk is the only place I can write about my muse 
Thinking you’re closer to me but it’s a poem you will never learn of

Voices

The voices are so loud they’re deafening,
They’re cruel, mean and threating,
Torturing over and over, night and day,
Revelling in what to them is play,
Screaming, yelling, pulling me down,
I rarely have a smile, instead it’s a frown,
The pain is crippling me to no end,
But I can’t show it, I have to pretend.

On Crenshaw

on crenshaw 
carousing in cavernous cafes 
slicing into earthen skin
the meat dancers bring it to a boil
they murder the rug
they scrounge for earth worms
the fish head girls bob like sea birds
telephoning purple mermaids for a date 
they have no name tags and no flowers
they sing sad madrigals to the starfish 
they know this is the last pavane 
the final curtsy before night goes down
before morning arises under white sheets 
loosening the brain screws 
burning the instruction manuals
imbibing the nylon remonstrations
on crenshaw
a lonely woman croons 
an oozing torch song to the dirt people
they sit erect in a dark morgue 
chittering like insects
singing cool blues music to the meat dancers
they bring it to a boil 
with burgers bullets and beef cake 
genius guitar freak vivisects clawing time
he twangs his axe with a searing solo
he plays psychedelic lullabies to the dead 
his music torturing the earth worms

Just Right

Remember sometimes in life, 
There will be things we can't control,
Try to not let that consume you, 
Or eat away at your soul.

Self torturing our confidence and mind, 
Should really be some kind of crime, 
As worrying weakens our ambitions,
While over-thinking steals our time.

Yet trying not to fret or fear, 
About what's ahead of you,
Can be so easy for anyone to say, 
But sometimes a battle to actually do. 

Don't let them anxious thoughts, 
Stress and keep you up at night, 
As what will be, will be, 
It will all turn out, just right.

Life is a battle

Held tight to the asagai as I penetrated beastly jungles of Africa, for I knew my vow worthed every torturing and conscious idleling enccounterings...

Eternal and fatal squashing of flesh and bones with the thought that she plunged far than worse physical pain, even soul threatening scenarios couldn't dust an inch of my destination perspective, for I took an oath to present myself irrespective of blood chasing and soul drifting experience stood before my life ...

For I was an african princess which stood in the far reach of my undivided attention, there by my pulse side and africa was where my repetoires headed to habit, for thy heart treasured my living days.
#Poetic_Ink

Fear

there is a tornado in my head
whipping around destroying everything in its path
i lie in bed
feeling its wrath
i just gotta keep going
for something has been eating away at me for quite some time now
i'm just standing there waiting for it to take its bow
the darkness consumes me 
i long to be free
free of this pain,of the fear
that reappears 
every time i see something that reminds me of it
its like that tightening of my chest
its anxiety at its best
and me at my worst
because fear has devoured me whole
i am nothing but a mere shadow
a wisp of life swept away by the wind of fate
i am broken now
to broken to fix
because what people don't know is that when fear devours you, you become it
so i am the new fear haunting, torturing
it is the worst fate of all
to do the thing you so once were afraid of
until someone else breaks
and you return to above

THE MOON THAT DID NOT SHINE

She abhors the light
Her eyes, a ground where rivers flow
Prefers to dwell in blossom of the night.

After years of waiting
Years of grieving and wailing
Her joy came, but brief.

A moon that promised so much light
Yet her weak hands had but one touch.
He was no more, her only moon faded.

Oh, tender moon, what happened to your glow?
Are you not tired of torturing me?
Don't you feel for my sagging breasts?

Seasons come and go
My aging body is weary
God knows I tried.

The Unresolved Album cover with the null and void album

To
The Unresolved Album cover with the null and void album
Cc
Involved parties in disputed acquittal 
Bcc
Ownership of microfiche
Subject
“I let the fish go”
Dear concerned parties
(To whom it may concern)

After writing free verse for quite a few years, I am feeling my free verse is hurting me too much these days. Most of these are like daily writing, as I simply register the day to day in trivialities. Why will one care about your stuff anyway, if these are always tracing back to the ridicule zone, almost always? They were cathartic reasons, but they were never torturing this much, they were whence time was true.I hold no grudges, and I stop unfolding there, as I care deeply, and vulnerably.

Let them know. Let them grow. 

Thanking,

A writer.

Words of Pain

I am pouring aggressive tea into cup for drink
Don't stare! I am really gonna drink 
Fun fact is, I do not like flower's beds
They give environment a pleasant scent
Why these fearing face you are showing
Cause of you my happiness are ruined 
Consumption of aggression is my right 
What do you think I'll show you a torturing sight 
Aggression is my personal taste 
You don't worry, you can go away
I ain't hurt any of you 
I just want you show, what are conditions of mine

Words of Pain

I am pouring aggressive tea into cup for drink
Don't stare! I am really gonna drink 
Fun fact is, I do not like flower's beds
They give environment a pleasant scent
Why these fearing face you are showing
Cause of you my happiness are ruined 
Consumption of aggression is my right 
What do you think I'll show you a torturing sight 
Aggression is my personal taste 
You don't worry, you can go away
I ain't hurt any of you 
I just want you show, what are conditions of mine

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