(Language Warning)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Did I hurt you?"
You innocently inquire
You fucking moron
You self-centered son of a bitch
Your arrogance inflates your ego
Your ego inflates your dick
You opened your soul
I opened mine
Then, you turned
Gazing at your back
I awaited
With tender expectation
Unbeknownsted to me
You prepared
Your mockery
About faced
Madness in your eyes
Delight in manipulation
I stood
Confused, perplexed
Mixed signals
You stood erect
Jerking off
With heinous laughter
Jism spewed, milky clear
My personal exhibitionist
I watched in disgust
Your words cut deep
"I'm here for you, sucker...
Lick it up, you trusting soul"
Did you hurt me?
I won't grant you that power
I hurt because I chose to trust
A pompous ass like you
May all your days
Be bathed by masturbation
january 26, 2008
judithpiper
~*~*~
Well, need I say I was angry? Oh my!
In December, 2007, someone had befriended me via an online forum. After about a month of communication and me being honest and open, the other party seemed to be giving the cold shoulder. It confused me at the time. I didn't react like in the poem to the individual, and I later learned the other party was just going through a hard time; all ended up well.
Still, I like the prose....as far as giving expression to anger. The prose is graphic; and so is ab-use.
I stated elsewhere, "....I don't talk like this...and seldom think like this. There was a time I would never have let anyone see this side of me. It's kind of freeing to have an outlet for it...."
Showing posts with label approval. Show all posts
Showing posts with label approval. Show all posts
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Approval No Longer the Master
(note: language warning)
I despise these fucking standards
Decades fed with perfectionism
I wish I could simply erase
This god-damned approval addiction
Self-blame a constant resident
Yet, the guilt does not all lie with me
Perhaps it's within the warped standards
Of a false-sterile society
I've grown to detest sterility
Breeding its disease in secrecy
A playground for deception
Murdering individuality
How do I flee this beguilement
Without loosing a ravenous beast
Whose been chained and finally tastes freedom
With a lusting impulse to feast
Upon the cravings denied it
Once starved of the sense to feel
To allow emancipation
Will its hunger therein be healed
Or this insatiable desire to feed
To express without repression
Will it slay that which it needs
And devour its yearned for companion
Nay, if allowed to follow its longing
The famine put out to pasture
This beast will patiently gentle
Approval no longer the master
april 1, 2007
judithpiper
Unrelenting standards are one of the customary fares in a totalistic group. To the group, appearances are more important than the individual. There is to be no hint of error, else the doctrine might be proven as wrong. There is a sickening air of a sterile, emotionless, humanless culture. Seldom are performed tasks good enough.
This perfectionism can stifle creativity and cause one to fear and box their own expression. It can lead to an incessant strive for approval.
There are duties in life that need great precision, such as a carpenter's saw or the surgeon's scalpel or even an artist's pen. But other tasks in life do not require such. Chairs don't have to be straight nor every bed wrinkle smoothed nor every place setting exactly even.
A few months prior to penning this poem I had discovered poetrypages.com. For me the site was (and is) like a breath of fresh air! To be able to express myself in a public setting was a remarkable step in recovery. Yes, it was scary (and sometimes still is). At the same time it was (is) liberating: to express and to be able to make mistakes, without fear of constant correction (from myself or others.).
The beast is slowly being gentled. However with its gentling, I'd like to not lose its wild side. :-)
btw: I've tried to find another word besides "sterility" to end the first line of verse three. But alas, I fail to find one I like. Any suggestions are appreciated!
I despise these fucking standards
Decades fed with perfectionism
I wish I could simply erase
This god-damned approval addiction
Self-blame a constant resident
Yet, the guilt does not all lie with me
Perhaps it's within the warped standards
Of a false-sterile society
I've grown to detest sterility
Breeding its disease in secrecy
A playground for deception
Murdering individuality
How do I flee this beguilement
Without loosing a ravenous beast
Whose been chained and finally tastes freedom
With a lusting impulse to feast
Upon the cravings denied it
Once starved of the sense to feel
To allow emancipation
Will its hunger therein be healed
Or this insatiable desire to feed
To express without repression
Will it slay that which it needs
And devour its yearned for companion
Nay, if allowed to follow its longing
The famine put out to pasture
This beast will patiently gentle
Approval no longer the master
april 1, 2007
judithpiper
Unrelenting standards are one of the customary fares in a totalistic group. To the group, appearances are more important than the individual. There is to be no hint of error, else the doctrine might be proven as wrong. There is a sickening air of a sterile, emotionless, humanless culture. Seldom are performed tasks good enough.
This perfectionism can stifle creativity and cause one to fear and box their own expression. It can lead to an incessant strive for approval.
There are duties in life that need great precision, such as a carpenter's saw or the surgeon's scalpel or even an artist's pen. But other tasks in life do not require such. Chairs don't have to be straight nor every bed wrinkle smoothed nor every place setting exactly even.
A few months prior to penning this poem I had discovered poetrypages.com. For me the site was (and is) like a breath of fresh air! To be able to express myself in a public setting was a remarkable step in recovery. Yes, it was scary (and sometimes still is). At the same time it was (is) liberating: to express and to be able to make mistakes, without fear of constant correction (from myself or others.).
The beast is slowly being gentled. However with its gentling, I'd like to not lose its wild side. :-)
btw: I've tried to find another word besides "sterility" to end the first line of verse three. But alas, I fail to find one I like. Any suggestions are appreciated!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)