Tag: chronicpain

for you – in pain

My love – I write these words
with all kinds the kinds of healing in mind –
and behind the every rhyme of every line
I’m hoping for a remedial result of any kind.[…]

*
For You – In Pain

My love – I write these words
with all kinds the kinds of healing in mind – 
and behind the every rhyme of every line
I’m hoping for a remedial result of any kind.

So, whenever you feel that monster creeping on, uninvited, 
do me a favor, find a book to love, and lose yourself in the story,
and if that monster still refuses to back down or be quieted
do me a favor, find a lover to love, and lose yourself in the glory.

Which makes this little note my tender request,
to find the right words to release that good from out of your chest… 
and whenever you find yourself racked with pain again
cherish these words and hold them deep within…

I’ll never be able to wish away all your pain
especially if I can’t even wish away my own,
and although we may be stuck with a lot of discomfort and some disdain,
we can take all that horrible shit and transform it into something magnificently our own.

-10-12-08-
M. L. Michael

About…

you’re so vain, you probably think this poem is about you

before you stabbed me somehow real–
before i was bleeding out all over the field,
all i could see was your siren-beauty
singing, all I could feel was your hot face bathing,
against the searing white– that astonishing raw–
seconds after I had opened my arms:
i felt the definite betrayal of your knife
violating my hungering space.[…]

"you're so vain, you probably think this poem is about you."
 
before you stabbed me somehow real--
before i was bleeding out all over the field,
all i could see was your siren-beauty
singing,  all I could feel was your hot face bathing,
against the searing white--  that astonishing raw--
seconds after I  had opened my arms:
i felt the definite betrayal of your knife
violating my hungering space.

(i am nothing but disdained and craven
  in my addiction for your novocain lovin) 

then, you dressed me down, and
               dressed my wounds, and
            undressed yourself,
        to address me down.
to take care of kissing me, to take care of caressing me
where my aching has consumed all sound.where my consumption
has caused aching all around. so i can barely think to think
my way out of the box-- because all is alright, right
when ill take any warmth,
as a ward against the freeze that defines every month.

(i am everything but accomplished and winning
  in my race for that 100percent numbed feeling.)

until, i am almost better, i am almost ready
to pull myself out of your venus such embrace,
when your knife finds my ache again, and my back
finds the floor, again, as willingly as someone broken again,
someone to be that one repair, again,
someone to be your one fix, again.

i am nothing but disdained and craven
in my addiction for your novocain lovin
i am everything but accomplished and winning
in my race for that 100percent numbed feeling.

-m. l. michael.
-05-29-06-

About…

everlasting spirit-stompers

doc’s words are it. the undoing, everlasting
spirit-stompers that i’ll swallow. struggling.
until they’re dissolved or i’m absorbed, idontknow.
until whatever the consequence; i’m absolved. 

doc’s words are it. the undoing, everlasting
spirit-stompers that i’ll swallow. struggling.
until they’re dissolved or i’m absorbed, idontknow.
until whatever the consequence; i’m absolved. 

03-10-06
M. L. Michael

About…

A Titan’s burden

It began with Atlas complaining; like
a crackling whip of God’s gavel crashing, or
the preamble to a symphony of rolling thunder.

“The World on my shoulders, has become
no greater than The Cross on my back.”
He spits out those words like bile coming up.
And casts his eyes astray to avoid the splatter. […]

A Titan’s Burden

It began with Atlas complaining; like
a crackling whip of God’s gavel crashing, or
the preamble to a symphony of rolling thunder.

“The World on my shoulders, has become
no greater than The Cross on my back.”
He spits out those words like bile coming up.
And casts his eyes astray to avoid the splatter. 

…as Atlas fights the weariness seeping in;
He roars; his patience wears thin
long after his muscles charred away; 
He curses; and postmarks damnations 
that never get sent for fear of blasphemy, 
and any new consequences he must carry.  
	
M. L. Michael 
08-03-05

About…

They saved a child with a lie

They had words, like soldiers on a mission
To march past teeth without looking back,
To march past integrity, without even looking at all.
They speak only in stalemate; with each party locking
Horns, sounding off…in snorts and stares…
So they can be owned like boxes unwrapped,
By possessions we sought, oh, forgive us we fought… […]

They had words, like soldiers on a mission
To march past teeth without looking back, 
To march past integrity, without even looking at all.
They speak only in stalemate; with each party locking
Horns, sounding off…in snorts and stares…
So they can be owned like boxes unwrapped,
By possessions we sought, oh, forgive us we fought…

They’ll reach the top…
They’ll reach in deep and with a heavy arm, 
To bear the brunt of a loaded sentence, 
Cocked back like the head of a horse.
Prescribing a Trojan move –an entendre in the midst, 
And a poison portrait, reflecting steam turned toxic
They’ll inflict about their own diagnosis,
Prescribing trickery to become prognosis, 
And using whispered prayer like subtle hypnosis, 
Forcing –by verse alone may the word be true!
They’ll say, I’ll say, so rehearsed in this way
So they, may not say, the reality of this day.

They promise obscurity –more answers to forever,
Assuring the day, that night can never come,
Instead expect pervasive sunshine with only hopeful clouds!
(With a zero percent chance of thunder they add in perspiration)
A smile-grin, a smile-grin, all in all, this only adds to chagrin, 
Oh weatherman, oh healing-man, how can I know-
The world you present, is the world I’ve been bestowed?

M. L. Michael 
05.20.04

About…

The ebb and flow of pharmaceuticals

White ravens cawed their best – a blasphemy of tradition.
Sounding all of dissonance, their mark is made in deception.
Where it begins with a
tumble
down (cavern or cavity)[…]

The Ebb and Flow of Pharmaceuticals

White ravens cawed their best – a blasphemy of tradition.
Sounding all of dissonance, their mark is made in deception.
Where it begins with a
		             tumble
			            down (cavern or cavity)
Manufactured escape, the mettle and sinew of tragedy
And still they
	         tumble
		        down (a white meteor seconds to downtown)
Until they
	    *touch*
		 down (a white explosion to dissolve and drown)

White ravens cawed their worst – a blasphemy of saviors
Blessed with conditional reception, masked miracles for favors
When it all happens with a
			      f l u t t e r
				         up (standard or stream)
Fog of mind trailing their wings, opiate laced to dull the regime
And still they
	         f l u t t e r 
			up (measured by time – they’ll divide the flock)
Until they
	    foul
	          up (measured against time – silence without the shock)

White ravens cawed their last – a tragedy of blasphemy
Gone before forgotten with an absence marked by misery
Where it all ends with a  	 	 	 
	                          tumble
				 back down (highway or mindway)
Return of the sword, truth of situation embodied, must we obey? 
And then I
	     tumble
		    back down (as my design is my deduction)
Until I
         *touch*
   	        back down (as my design is my dysfunction)

M. L. Michael 
04-23-04

About…

Winter again

Ice claims this body,
An empty cold spreads like fire.
No motions are made
To halt the coup d’état,
Just mindless submission
As winter devours the sun.[…]

Ice claims this body,
An empty cold spreads like fire.
No motions are made
To halt the coup d'état,
Just mindless submission
As winter devours the sun.

The mind is tired of the spirit,
Had enough of useless loving,
Vain attempts to breathe anew.
It welcomes the frozen state,
A trip away from the life
That constantly reminds it of failure.

Hopes lie frozen in the gutter,
Thrown aside by the north wind.
Vaguely missed by a shivering child,
Who sadly feels at home
In this winter wasteland. 

M. L. Michael
01·24·02

About…

The Man in White

I married the pen
To escape your tyranny,
Fleeing into the night
In a moment of ecstasy.

Just so I would forget
The pain you slid beneath,
Hushed whispers and murmurs
As I cried to God for relief. […]

I married the pen 
To escape your tyranny,
Fleeing into the night 
In a moment of ecstasy. 

Just so I would forget
The pain you slid beneath,
Hushed whispers and murmurs 
As I cried to God for relief.

Prayers were never answered,
Lies became generally given,
Sliding off forked tongues,
Dripping with acidic venom.

Stealing from the hurt,
You worthless little crook.
Dictating the meek
To fatten that checkbook. 

I wish you would know
The diagnosis you try to “heal”.
But maybe I’m wishing too much,
Believing that you could feel.

Never in my life
Have I hated so much. 
Congratulations you take the cake,
Repulsing me without a touch.

M. L. Michael 
11·14·01

About…