"amicably" poems
Yes, I'm a girl and I'm not trying to justify my body language nor am I positioning the rights of a feminist on the top, but
Yes, I was questioned always, even when I was right.
Subservience was legitimized as my trait ever since I felt this world.
Every time when I was buckled under by his lecherous eyes, I was asked to adjust my dupatta well.
Every action of mine substantiated the height to which I'll hold the name of my family.
I was asked to cross legs while sitting, speak amicably, yet not solitously.
Every time I'd to hide my period stain like a ****** blot.
I was asked to gallop my cramps because letting it out is a bitter sin.
Yes, I get my body scanned by their lewd gaze day in and out even when I put my baggiest of clothes on.
Yes, I'm a girl, and I have beautiful synonyms, call me maal, patola, bomb, ***** *** or a girl? May be, let yourself decide.
Yes, I'm questioned on the extension of the Roti's that I make and the smiles that I couldn't fake.
Yes, I'm a girl and I'll stand, and question your authority if it calls for, call me stubborn. Okay!
Remember, I'm a girl, and if you accuse me of being a feminist if I know, and can raise my tone up and against your authority, humanism needs to be checked then.
-APARAJITA TRIPATHI
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 10:13 PM UTC
One evening
after work
I began to walk
from the railway station
along the footpath
joining an acquaintance
on the way
to accompany and converse
amicably I thought
at first
but he became aloof
and hostile
ignoring my bonhomie
why
I had no idea
so crossed the road
estranged
shocked and ashamed.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 5:02 AM UTC
divorce isn't a breakup
it's a death in the family
two hearts too hurt to make up
and it never ends amicably
it makes every word said, every phrase, every promise ever spoken
sting like lies and sting your pride that you believed and they were broken
it takes from you the ability to believe in the beauty of someone special
when you feel like you gave all you had to give and it ended so regretful
it robs you of all your feelings of safety and comfort and home
it takes from you your confidence, your positivity and leaves you positively alone
it creates a deep hate that takes over and makes you fume anger
it causes the caustic sorrow that darkens every tomorrow and makes everyone a stranger
it makes you question your own value, your actual self worth
it makes you feel that you're not good enough to be loved anywhere on this earth
knowing that the person who knows the true you the very best
took a look inside you and chose to pursue one of the rest
the thought holds you down and carves your heart right out of your chest
and it takes back, steals back, rapes away all that made you feel blessed
like you invested all of your time, the very best of yourself and no less
and still failed the test
so you try to stand on two broken legs to walk again on your own
and you stumble into the arms of new friends and try to make a new home
and you search frantically for affection to replace what you've known
but at the end of each night regardless of who's next to you, you are alone
bar after bar, club after party, drink drink drink and take them to bed
trying to drown the remorse and the anger and the longing that fire shots in your head
you will literally try physically to **** your way into someone new's heart
you will become an artist making selfishness and need and self promotion an art
but they don't really know you so how could they really care
true love doesn't become tangible from moans floating through thin air
a love you reap comes from time spent in wonder and in promises you keep
true love comes from the person you're meant to be with seeing that you're deep
and wanting to dive in
to only you
to never surface again
from within you
to breath for the last time on their own
without your heart making theirs beat
to go to war for you alone
with no possibility of retreat
and that hope, that chance of what could come for my life's course
is the only thing I got to keep in my divorce
Aug 4, 2012
Aug 4, 2012 at 3:25 PM UTC
"I will eat your ******* **** off
in your sleep,
this is just disgusting"
We had been conversing proper cleaning methods concerning the latrine.
"Who does that?
Just ****** all over the toilet seat and doesn't clean it."
"Who leaves a ****** ****** in the toilet
and doesn't flush?"
We resolved the situation amicably like adults.
Jan 28, 2012
Jan 28, 2012 at 12:05 AM UTC
In a rained-out world
painted in shadow
smeared by waters
and bus stop-
undeterred,
her red umbrella
burns crimson through
desolate darkness
like random library
selfies of beauty
buried in paper skin,
shielded by her
red umbrella
In an overcast world
stencilled in sorrow
her umbrella-
so red, so shiny-
reaches out to me,
taking all my woes
and weary waters away
when I hear her say-
"Hey, write me a poem
about a red umbrella"
In a sunny world
etched in joyance
dabbed in frappé-
my four-wheel red umbrella
drives us from
country to café,
where perfectly good
grand pianos meet
symphonic chaos,
amicably amplified as we mingle
under our red umbrella
~
NM
09/20/16
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
a bee drowns amidst
expansive hyperbole
it sang an anxious plea and
she deigned to give it new wings
the sun falls on her as we sit
and drink coffee in front of
East End Market and speak
amicably about the tumultuous
events that've occurred this past week
i tell her how my heart fluttered
when she paused to save an insect
most write off as a nuisance even
as they gorge themselves on honey and
despite the fact that without bees
the world would also lack
fruits and veggies and
nuts and seeds to grow
new fauna from the fertile
soil of this ambivalent earth
without these enigmatic evolutionaries
who pollinate this planet
and permit humanity to persist
in spite of our knack for
cultivating catastrophe
our ecosystem would collapse
in complete and utter defeat
now it seems that i'm the one
floundering in sea foam green but
i'm not sure if i'm worthy
to hold the gentle hands that
save tiny bees
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 12:50 AM UTC
The body
rolls up in its silver coffin limousine
into the sun-baked empty lot between
the hardware store and the old clinic.
Tin pans glisten in the late August heat.
The crowd chitters amicably to itself
until at last someone lifts the lid
and eats.
Paper plates soak
in the back of a pickup truck
and sweet tea sweats through the long
Carolina afternoon.
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 1:12 AM UTC
To write, or not to write.
That is my question.
My question to myself.
Do I write and keep hurting myself with memories?
Or do I sit tight and hope for the best…
Do I write and risk making things worse?
Or do I stop fearing being further misunderstood…
Do I write about the things I’m at fault for?
Or do I write about the things I’m not…
Do I write about why I did the things I did?
Or do I write about why they did the things they did…
Do I write in an attempt to make amends?
Or do I write to finally end it all…
But then again…
Why would I write?
What would be the point?
Would it be to try ending things amicably?
Or to somehow try to stay friends…
Would it be to try explaining my point of view?
Or to somehow try understanding theirs…
Would it be to point out the things I was trying to avoid?
Or to point out how they've ignorantly walked us all into them…
Would it be to understand why they blame me for certain things?
Or to explain why I blame them for certain things…
Would it be to point out how and why I broke for so long?
Or would they just simply not even care…
Would it be to remind them how they too have been stuck in a rut before?
Or would they just be callous and say that it’s different…
Would it be to try understanding if I was used?
Or would I just end up realizing for how long…
Would it be to find answers for all of the unanswered questions?
Or would I just be left with even more questions than answers…
Would it be to convince myself they’re a decent person?
Or would it be to realize they’re a heartless animal…
Would it be to understand what traps I’ve pushed them into?
Or to write about the ones they’ve pushed both me and themselves into…
Would it be to explain the soul crushing dreams that have been vividly etched into my memory?
Or to explain the countless sleepless nights for months, drenched in cold sweat, shifting from bed to couch to floor in my own home...
Would it even be worth it at this point?
Or should I just realize there is no way to ever trust them again regardless of all of the above…
Would it be to try and write a concrete poem?
Or to forget the rhythm halfway through and just get my thoughts out…
To right, or not to right...
I guess I’ll just write about maybe writing…
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 10:50 PM UTC
The Queen of the Diamond,
she of beauty and grace.
she of poise and elegance,
she of ribbon and lace.
The King of the *****
he of joking and laughter
he of roughness and fun,
he of jacket and leather.
The Queen stood tall,
over her subjects, the
serfs of the schoolyard.
The Barons, Earls, and Counts,
alike tried to garner her favor.
All to no avail, as the Queen
was not interested in their advances.
Or in affairs of the heart altogether.
She was busy with her own lofty goals,
yet, how the countesses talked...
The King was once but a serf,
a simple, silly, joking jester.
But he had a way, and a manner,
an ability to please and to appease,
in ways the nobles could not.
However, all he really was
was a punchline, a tool for laughter.
He longed for more, and then more.
He desired importance, and status,
and not the derision of the clowns.
The Queen graced him with
her royal presence, one spare day.
With his jokes, and jests, and
his knightly sincerity, the King
managed to win her over.
In time, they made an alliance.
A partnership, an agreement,
sealed by a regal kiss. Together,
They won what they both desired.
in spite of what others conspired.
The Queen got some solace from
the nagging hand-maids, her fellow
nobles and others asking when she'd
find herself a sweet suitor, a man.
So that she could focus on her dreams.
The King finally earned respect,
the kind that comes from moving up.
No longer was he just another serf,
he could instead joke and upshow
the smug nobles of the royal court.
Yet as the seasons passed, they came to
realize that little had they in common.
The Queen was studious and stern,
The King was slack and slow at work.
They had fun, but little was earned.
Respect only went so far really,
and the King could feel it was forced,
and the Queen still had to put up with
questions of when they would be wed.
Their struggles were still present.
Camelot would not amaze much longer,
as the King and the Queen would go
their separate paths, amicably as could be.
The Queen realized that only she could
determine her own self-worth.
A lesson that rang true for the King,
as well. Self-respect mattered more,
than 'respect' from others, that can flit,
and flutter. And so, through each other,
The King and Queen got what they needed.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 1:11 AM UTC
snowcaps fill my vision
perched upon window
seat; trees line winding
path, through it all I seek
that overhanging crag
hidden by hillside shrubs;
an opening pitch black
my secret cave; my
space for rumination,
that peace of mind that
follows a distortion of
fact, my becalming
before another storm
brews like an avalanche
waiting to happen.
I've come to terms within
self compensating for
other's shortcomings,
delineating oneself with
social grace; allowing
them to dig their own
graves, but, not at my
expense anymore, fore,
I will only compromise
on my terms amicably;
in reflections cave of
thought, minding my
business and leaving
theirs alone.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
I can see the mask that you wear
The demon that you hide behind
As it chases you loiter it's shadow
I'll sooth you in the dark alleyways
Directly call the shamanic exorciser
to starlight your pebbled and icy path
I can see the mask that you wear
It laughs and mimic's as you **** it
Carrying a collection of your innocence
the disclosures of the haunted past
I'll reconcile amicably with the villain
sign the treaty permanently on your behalf
I can see your charming face behind that mask
That beautiful facade of yours my dear one
the vision in your eyes written on your iris
the ink that pastes a blank page of my desires
Our seal that wraps the crawls in the cold night
My divine one, let's fly afloat in the attic of our dreams
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 6:05 PM UTC
it grieves me
the major dictionaries
cannot agree
on the longest word
in the English Language
The Oxford English proposes:
pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis
Merriam-Webster champions:
electroencephalographically
and others list: floccinaucinihilipilification -
but look, I am no counterrevolutionary
and I'm not attempting any deinstitutionalisation
but really the longest word in the English Language
(and let's settle this once and for all, amicably) is:
SMILE
Why?
because there's a mile between S and E...
You see? Easy!
Makes you wonder if
the editors of major dictionaries
are visuallyintellectuallyfacialmuscularlychallenged
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 12:37 AM UTC
Dear God:
Re Eva Cassidy
Been waiting/wanting to write you for a long time
About Eva Cassidy.
Had to let the anger settle,
Had to find the write words.
Many months have past, perhaps years,
Since I stumbled across the voice of this angel,
Memorial Day, it seems like the write time to
Try once more.
But my anger has not settled, it has trebled,
It has risen and is unquantifiable, irrevocable,
a line crossed, a feud, that can never now be amicably settled.
I have a retinue of good curses, experienced friends,
Looking to meet up with you, who understand that
Blessings and curses, for full effect, should be rarely used,
Especially inside a funereal poem honoring the truly great.
But for Eva, there's no question, you dude,
Got a fleet of F bombs coming your way,
When the children have gone to bed.
When Eva sings "Imagine,"
The purity of voice, miraculous,
I know you were afraid
And so took her young,
Lest her voice raise a generation of questioners.
**Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to **** or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...**
You got the power,
You make mistakes,
We all gotta die sometime,
But you better not take the special ones too early,
Or I may stop writing to you, and then,
What ya gonna do? Who will comfort me?
Eva will, that's who,
When we walk together in Fields of Gold...
Shelter Island 5:00pm
May 26
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 5:25 PM UTC
We would have had a glitterball life,
All excess and adoration,
Caffeine and *******
We would have had filthy, frantic ***
And stayed up all night
Talking, dancing, drinking, laughing,
We would have burned each other out
And pulled each other apart.
You would have drowned in Jack Daniels,
I would have lost my mind
It didn't happen
We saw sense
And ended it, amicably, exactly when we should have done.
I hope you found a calm and practical girl
To pull you into line,
I hope you are happy,
I hope you are okay.
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 3:33 PM UTC
Keep pulling the strings,
Harder.
I've grown accustomed
To the painful yanking.
Take my shoulders
And tug them astern.
Back rigid as a board,
So as to never run blissfully.
Heave my head up.
Neck indefinitely stiff.
I'll never be able to gaze
Down at the flowers.
Wrench my lips further.
Cheeks excruciatingly tight.
So that I may amicably smile,
At people I'd rather frown.
Extract my laugh out from within.
Lungs enervated from
Emanating becoming laughs.
Which animate these artificial
Kings and Queens,
When I genuinely desire
To spill their crowns.
Force the tears back from my eyes.
As I stand reduced to a creature
In a frivolous sideshow.
Defeated.
Degraded.
Destroyed.
Master.
I do not despise you.
Neither pity myself.
You cannot dodge inheritance.
You cannot hide from the strings.
For we are born Puppets.
And become the Puppeteers.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 8:02 PM UTC
Greet the sun-kissed smile
and amicably recognize that her eyes change color
in the shadows of night and day.
Fool me once;
I know in days time
we will entwist as yearning cannot's always do.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 8:07 PM UTC
Dear Sir,
It has come to our attention.
Our records clearly show. There can be no doubt.
I cannot emphasize too strongly that these activities
are completely unacceptable to us.
We would of course prefer to settle this matter amicably.
However, I must inform you that, should you continue to,
we cannot rule out the imposition of severe.
I therefore enclose for your consideration.
You should carefully note the wording of paragraph, sub-section.
Previously, some people in your position have assumed that this simply meant.
They were unpleasantly surprised when they realized too late that it does not.
I politely suggest that, at your earliest convenience, you should.
The options open to you at this point are limited, and will all be unwelcome.
Nevertheless, you would be ill-advised to consider non-compliance.
Our Enforcement department is large and enthusiastic.
They would relish the opportunity to.
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 4:55 PM UTC
In this vast galaxy powdered with glitter,
(each more bizarre than the other)
two lone stars drifted too close,
fluttering amicably as planets and moons pass them by –
shyly gleaming in the clouds or
slyly glinting sparks to the Sun:
destined to fall out of orbit whizzing to detonate a
supernova...
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 12:44 PM UTC
One can't linger on what's no longer
Lessening the lingering on longing for the littlest
Left the least
..Functioning
..amicably
..meandering
..ironically
..learning
..yearly ...
A Family Tale
DK
2014
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 2:31 PM UTC
Springing from
mighty earth
I bloom open
in screaming
colors of
every desire.
Morning dew
paints me ripe
with clarity—
I know I'm
grounded to
worm-riddled soil
without sense;
my venture
is compounded.
The lore of
flowers is
misconstrued,
so I grow
in sunlight
amicably.
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 10:53 PM UTC
My heart and my head disagree on what is best for my body
So they have decided
To divide
To amicably separate
And go their own ways
Though my mind sings the songs of reason and intellect
My heart writes serenades of love and fellowship
The two egotistical beasts falsely believe
That one is stronger without the other
Or that perhaps they may force the other to see reason
I cannot be controlled nor tethered by reason,
I cannot be set free by unbridled creativity
You see art must be real
Though it may be idealized
Or greatly manipulated
You see imagination without mind
Are thoughts without language
And without heart
It is words without meaning
So it is unknown how this prevalent divorce of the two
May benefit anyone or anything
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 6:20 PM UTC
A daughter is yours for life.
A son is yours till he gets married.
Dear daughter-in-law,
I very well know,
You are my son's cherished wife,
The LOVE of his life.
You have borne him two beautiful children,
A daughter and son.
You behave dicey,
With his family pricey.
My son,to you I have given away,
That is your right anyway.
In your lives I never want to interfere,
Have not an inch of fear,
With you he is happy,
You,also are a part of the family.
Then why be vindictive,
Jealous and negative?
In my son's presence act the victim,
Pick up a fight at your whim.
Just because for me he cares,
Calling me with affection he dares,
Something cooked by me he expects,
Treats me with love and respect.
Remember, I am his mother,
Not his bother,
Daughter-in-law, let's live amicably on this planet,
Love draw us closer like a magnet.
I want you to be my daughter,
To me relationships matter.
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 5:38 AM UTC
Dear T,
You always used to tell me you were the devil, that you were heartless,
And I’d always chuckle, say “No you’re not!” And kiss your cheek.
And the truth is I really didn’t believe you, and I never saw you like that.
I think I truly did see all of you, but I focused on the good, and I thought you appreciated, and maybe even loved, that about me.
But maybe I was wrong because, hah, well I broke up with you, I thought amicably enough.
I had closure, I recognized that maybe we just weren’t right or good for each other.
But for whatever reason you felt the need to start **** up again. You knew exactly what to say, what to do, how to act, and I was yours yet again. For some reason you were my achilles heal, and I’ll be ****** if you didn’t know it. I loved you so ******* much. And I truly wanted to believe the best, I fought everyone off, including myself, who thought your intentions were questionable. You knew I would. You knew.
And I hate that you were right. I hate that I said yes when you asked to paint, I hate that when you asked me over I came, I hate that when you said you needed me I believed you. Maybe you did need me, but you certainly don’t care enough to love me the way I loved you.
I hate it all. And though I’m trying not to, I hate you. I just don’t understand WHY you wouldn’t just stay the **** away from me. Why did you have to tell me all the things you did, made me feel like the most important person in the world, and then toss me away when I was inconvenient for you.
If you were lonely, why not find someone else?
If you didn’t know what you wanted with me, why didn’t you just wait till you did know?
Why did you have to drag me along when you KNEW I would hold on?
Other than the fact that you’re a selfish *****
I understand you were leaving, that you couldn’t make any promises, maybe that you were confused. But you are the kind of person who can see 4 steps ahead and predict outcomes, so you can’t say that you didn’t know how I would act.
You’ve called me predictable so you can’t say you didn’t know. So all I can wonder is why. What good reason could you possibly have had to yank me around like that, and take advantage of how much I cared about you?
Do you just hate me so much that you didn’t care what would happen if you hurt me?
Was it just simple apathy?
Were you bored?
You can’t say you didn’t think because we both know that’s impossible for you. You always have a move, a goal.
So what was it?
I guess thats all I have to say.
I hate you, I’m trying not to, but right now I do.
And I truly do not understand why you came back. I don’t understand your goal.
Maybe you truly were just bored and are, in fact, heartless. Maybe everything you said about caring about me was a lie, maybe you just wanted to mess around with someone and have decent memories. But why the **** did it have to be me?
*******
Dec 11, 2019
Dec 11, 2019 at 1:51 PM UTC
Upon salinity of water I clung
In my unsoiled root I lung
Immortality glory awaits me in river of life
As it flows in a tributaries of days
Years of my short sojourn
Empty in lake of life
What role I played attest to my end
Awaiting the coin of divine judgement
Lustrous of happiness gag me thoroughly as wind blew
So joy of lotus pine broad
Giving way to water to flow
Amicably my leaves glow
Forgetting the tides that blow
In thousands of rush all fall in one row
by
Martin Ijir
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 7:56 AM UTC