"chides" poems
While I don't suffer, or suffer from
Normal, eurocentrism, northern malaise,
Nor, academia, a blood disease,
I do mind manners in which doings
And not doings are done or aren't,
As it brings life and light to them,
Or it doesn't, for those most attached
To living or dying are most closely death.
This while acid rain from your closed eye
And an acre of rainforest falls each second.
Thus Earth's tears bleed for all you see is gray.
As machinations of travailing winds,
Miraging, veil, mirror narcissistic nihlistic
False-ego as self, do "..we(e),.." evince to be?
A republican chides, "put another poet
On the barbie", his idea of conservation.
Prump has had his exec. branch criminally:
Edit the official video and script of his
Helsinki news conference where tutin was asked,
"Did you help prump become president and did you
Have your gov't do the same", with tutin's answers,
"Yes I did, yes, I did..." + premeditatedly separate
Latino families at the border to torture them,
Dictate that "if they want to see their kids again
They have to sign away their rights and leave".
He just said, "don't believe what you hear, see",
Almost a quote from Orwell's '1984', in which
Is written, "this dictate of the gov't was most
Important of all, don't believe what your ears
Hear or your eyes see". Since altright universe
Invaders were installed in the Blackhouse we've
Known things will only get worse, what other
Reason could his "military parade in 11-18" be for
Except military rule, will the American daymare end?
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 7:13 AM UTC
Her name is Halima
And she leans from her window
In her hijab that covers her hair
Halima don't spit on the people below
Her mama laughs - My Halima!
But that's her little daughter
And she knows when Halima spits -
It's - the purest rose water
Halima's hijab is of the greenest green
That covers her chestnut hair
With the handprint of a man
Large and brown embroidered there
And her long white dress embroidered
With buds and leaves and thorny stems
And secret roots and blooms of roses
In her house above the Thames
Halima don't spit! Her mama chides
But the people sailing by
Think the air is filled with roses
So they smile and they sigh
As Halima in her hijab
With the handprint of a man
Turns the ***** river to rose water
As only Halima can ...
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 11:26 AM UTC
Ophelia, Ophelia,
voracious daydreamer,
how dare you
upset this delicate orbit.
your hands were the kiln
for my sloppy and misshapen mind,
but that was nothing,
relatively, compared to the way
your eyes reflected lost souls.
my dear, it's a catastrophe.
now when the moon chides me,
and the stars reek of your smile,
I run my hands across
the fronts of empty dresses
that you wore years ago.
Ophelia, Ophelia,
I recall the way your eyes shone
like the peak of madness
and how your shoulder blades
touched in a subtly avian manner.
how simple are the remnants
of your existence, of your melancholia,
I cling to them like a ***** to touch-
and I know they will bring you no closer.
stale shadows haunt my lingering eyes;
where you should be standing
I see only lost time.
Ophelia, Ophelia,
smoldering star in my hindsight,
stone in my chest-
I'm sad to see you go.
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 8:53 PM UTC
ೋღ❤ღೋೋღ❤ღೋ
*Walking down a wooded path
tall flowing trees all around,
I came upon the river’s edge
and sat down on the ground.
Sitting at the edge of the river
I stare at its ongoing flow,
I start to give it all my pain
a release with each little throw.
My hardest pain is fear
that I’ve had from so long ago,
of never feeling good enough
that’s dulled my inner glow.
It eats at me like a cancer
each and every day,
the fear of never being good enough
and again being thrown away.
Years of disappointment and abuse
only being property, nothing to love,
but always trying to make things right
so everyone else could rise above.
I throw this fear out into the river
sit back and watch it pass slowly by,
I wrap my arms around myself
feel the release, let myself cry.
I throw out all the other pains
betrayal, heartache, loneliness and more,
I watch them drift gently way
these last tears will be left on this river shore.
Noticing as each and every pain
slowly floats down the river away,
I observe at a distance
as they fade into the suns sparkling rays.
Walking down a wooded path
tall flowing trees all around,
I came upon the river’s edge
and was surprised at what I found.*
***And ever onward shall we strive
and from the circle peace derive.
The sea in robes of mossy green
and blues the eye has never seen...
In grays that mock the stormy sky
and depths that hold the tears gone by....***
*A sweet release we give our heart
from pain of past that tore apart,
relief that only one can find
when hearts we let, become unconfined,
to leave behind those stormy skies
letting self-love baptize…*
***A tide of tears resides within
and waits to overflow.
i greet with a smiling face
so others will not know.
How feeble is this masquerade.
Transparent are the games.
Emotions should be given room
without the chides and blames.
The time will come to open up
and let the dam release...
my will, the pressure stop.
my soul will be at peace.
Weep when grief prescribes.
Laugh for humor's sake.
Love with everything you have
and forgive, all your mistakes.***
ೋღ❤ღೋೋღ❤ღೋ
Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 8:45 PM UTC
Tonight good Duncan, friend and guest
This dagger shall pass through thy breast
I shall be king as was the prophecy and belief
Told by the hags upon the heath
Unsexed like them, my Lady chides me still
For my kindness and uncertain will
Even as my dagger drips once more
And blood from noble Banquo stains the floor
Now in blood so far I'm steeped
Only can I wade more deep
But this horizon leads no longer to infinity
Steadily it closes in on me
Slow but marching all the same
Toward the hill at Dunsinane
And though those warning words I scorned
Not all men are of woman born
Thus proves the prophesy no lie
Live by the sword and therefore by it die
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
Once upon a time, in a place called Venustus
a raw newb caught my eye
I wonder what it was about her
that made me want to try
The quiet one
kneeling on the rug
playing with her Pegs
quite unlike the others
less submissive,
yet somehow more so
in ways that I couldn't see at the time
She chides me for my lack of attention
shouldn't it be the other way round?
should she not be the one attending to me?
yet somehow I can't make that demand
can't bring myself to issue the command
can't take the risk she'll call my bluff
begin to realise I can't get enough
I begin to doubt my Dominance
as we get closer there's something else
Incredible as it seems,
I feel her body close to mine
her warmth come through
and then she asks
"do you feel it too?"
And I do feel it
I feel you beside me, within me
I feel that for us
it has always been this way
that I've always known you
and you feel that way too
Then everything became simple
and yet more complicated
Now I had no choice
but to face myself
to admit the thing I'd tried to hide
because love demands honesty
to be honest with you
I had to be honest with me
Even though I had no doubt
still I needed space to work it out
a week or two should be enough
the next three months were really tough
Cynthia Pauline Jones, March 2013
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 10:56 AM UTC
**My life is foretold in every crevice of this universe,
in serene seas, and swaying sands,
in scorching degrees and holding hands,
with a lover in my longing arms,
fires raging, and yet i am sheltered from harm.
and throughout my journeys,
it is my deepest desire,
to ignite and set my ambitions on fire,
in the midst of euphoric dreaming,
with my lover on this late summer's evening.
and i shall be at one with the stars,
and my doors in life shall forever remain ajar.**
*Walk into this space it is endless
sublime congruence with the heavens
open is the third eye looking directly at abyss
i feel a divine hint on my skin
as if it were a celestial kiss
there is no need to travel in doubt
it is written across the evening canvas
open the gates of exotic awareness*
**It is writhing, it is gifting, entrusting me, and quaking,
yet I, within mine, remain still.
Fore be it told, and beneath footless form, it's subversive,
yet, I dance a sure tango, uphill.
I must be sure, so sure not to mind lone notches and disparity,
as crevices, you see, they arch to transverse.
Fearing but forging the depths of what is migration, we say,
from this hallowed tangle be my rise, my verse.
I’m floundering, I grant, when I think I hold discovery,
so, I tug at the rein of imprint and plan.
It is here my beloved reliance, my precious doubtless tread
is afforded the fair crossing of Pan.
So, although it contests and chides and outreaches,
I am in love and as love, an apprentice.
A conquest won, no never, but here, a concession, a regard-
I am, with no poet’s journey, amiss.**
Lilting ebulliently in ineffable fields of ecstasy.
Mellifluous waves, in life's voyage,
inure us to pulchritude paths, refined by old age.
Multifarious, nascent jubilant days, swaying in paint,
array the way as we sail away.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 7:27 AM UTC
The End Times
Repent, the zealot dinner guest, invited
For purposes of theological correctness, chides.
Repent, and sin no more, he advises, for the end is near.
But isn't that like asking a carnivore to turn vegan
Moments before the serving of a pampered calf's liver
I ask
he takes special care in the fall of a sparrow
The zealot replies, eyeing me as I set
My peas to one side with my fork.
Yes, but it was just that one, I retort.
His first.
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 3:01 AM UTC
This feeling I have that drags my spirit
And I indulge in its lowly zest out of habit
My feet they move in a trudge like manner
Shoulders hunched inwards non receptive to splendour.
How heavy it is in my heart I weep
For a life been dealt in a single, swift sweep
Cards that has been dealt from aeons past
Oaths recited loudly so that they would last.
Amidst the crowd of mask-faced happiness
Unconvinced, I slipped past unfound lest I be careless.
Discomforted in what on this path may lie
Discontented as such that my heart whines a cry.
Rigidity of routine when sensibility took over
Bruised bad and battered well my heart tumbled after
It felt like it's the end of my dream laden days
Reality sinks in, picks on my heart and there it stays.
I don't want to leave my coveted dreamscape
I don't want to destroy my only means of escape
On the ***** of fantasy, forever I want to stay
But it's crumbling away alarmingly like sun beaten clay.
I deceive my heart into thinking that there's still hope
Truth is I may have come to the end of the rope
Heart wants to hear a faint whisper of reassurance
Mind chides heart, it judgingly delivers it's sentence.
My cries cannot be heard, a wail of futile pleas
Banging on locked doors for which I don't have the keys
So weak this spirit for it has thus been broken
Morsel by morsel, this hapless soul is being eaten.
This burden I'm carrying seem never to have lightened
It is the dark of this period I wish to have brightened
Someone, anyone help...please show me a way
In this god forsaken pit I do not wish to stay.
However there exists yet a slim little chance
Key to courage is somewhere if I could afford a glance
Chances are that I may never even find it
I'll be trapped in a hole in which I can never truly fit.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
**In deep sleep, her anguished voice rings a bell in my brain,
hear the screams of a woman in my blood stream,
hallucination, I loved to believe, but then it became more frequent
at night, she whispers, her intimate secrets, without shame
in to my ears, in a seductive voice.Do I like it? she snickers
I got used to it's persuasive lilt, sometimes it sounds like a complaint.
If I turn a deaf ear, she knows how to make me listen
Then I am all ears; become her single, faithful, captive listener.
She questions me sometimes"Tell me what you know about ***
I go and learn the fundas on the female of the spices,
in detail, pass the test,
wonder, how little I know about her as a person. Isn't she my counterpart?
She talks about the curtain of ignorance, that still segregates her from him
and chides me "Will you be complete, if I didn't wake you up"**
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 1:58 PM UTC
she
Eats mine emotions
And mars my veriest heed
Her arms is a fortress,a congenial devotion
The cannibal of whom I find peace
But certainly,the no creed
I inhere to●
■
Her
Breath speaks severity
But of fortune prudence and quietude
She sinks me the depths of her whims
Yet,ludicrously of null whips
■
Her
Eyes eclipse blunt my sights
And rancour the rhymes of my visions
But then,she is the fair breed of gleams
A pleasant hue of sparkles I beseige
■
Her
Tender tongue carriers coals
Of undying vengeance
Of which every touch trembles
Yet even as so
It feels finer than rosy Arabian night breezes
■
But
Her crest which be the counsel
Of which the wildest devilry passions is seeked
Chides and macerate my mastered pettings
■
Yet
She sets tables in her thighs
And serve the most but motley affections
■
She is despotic but decent
SADIST
©Historian E.Lexano
®Recalcitration With Excellent
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 3:29 AM UTC
Zara, love of life,
Spake in curtled call
Allfather, lover of light,
To bestow those "ants of the earth"
And arch-bound as the sinew of bowstrings
Howling as the volley hertz roped
Along the celestial violin
Pluck souls from their bodies
In symphonic prediction
Ascende! On the wings of love's Valkyrie-- in her shining eyes will you greet the stars of the Otherworld!
___________________________
Cleaning hide chunks from Buffalo tusks
There is a stranger, who knocks upon my door
The fire is wide and welcoming,
Borea chides the earthenwork
Outside, the stranger calls
distant through the door.
____________________________________
A last heartsong,
The cup overflown with honey
A facsimile of symmetry
And not distinctly human
There was something to love in that,
Just the simple inclusion
Of all the other animus
Being formed in their conclusions
And following the arrowpoint
Floating by the bolt
What losses there to seek
Beyond a veiled humanity
We strike the fire one last time,
She to travel the mountain passes
Ashen eyes, holding viscous memories solidified
I to gather my quills
My thoughts and brush quickly the embers of love.
Into flame, carried deep into the hearts of the world and explored in violent disassociate
Particles red and hot
Then would Zara Spake again,
"with his eyes on the earth, will he never see but the stars."
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 12:42 PM UTC
My gut tells me secrets and
Guides me to answers.
It screams nausea like a
Air raid siren during war time.
My gut speaks to me and
Implores me to listen.
It never chides me when
I ignore its clarion call.
My gut is never wrong and
Sets me timely reminders.
It stores experience like a
Well thumbed user manual.
My gut is instinctive and
It helps me understand others.
Their motives and intentions;
Their weaknesses and strengths.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 7:00 PM UTC
Just me and him...
Having a conversation in the quiet of night.
Just me and him...
Baring honesty with no restrictions, no fright.
I tell him,
"Why must it always rain on me?"
I confide in him,
"Why do I feel what others don't see?"
Momentary silence...
And then he says,
***"It doesn't always rain...
Sometimes you are sheltered.
You feel too much.
Over things that shouldn't have mattered."***
Pause...
I am a child, fighting my case.
*"If I don't, who then will choose to care?
Who then will toil for days to come?
I'm exhausted now...
And it's not fair."*
He chides me in an instant.
***"It was your choice to take on this role.
It was a decision made freely.
If you're looking a direction in which to point,
point to a mirror and you'll see the reason why it's taking a toll."***
I gasp in faux disbelief
for I know it is true.
I've known all along
that it's me, not you.
I hesitate...
And then I reply...
"Oh shut up!"
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 12:43 PM UTC
Diamante falso y fingido,
Engastado en pedernal, &c.;
"False diamond set in flint! the caverns of the mine
Are warmer than the breast that holds that faithless heart of thine;
Thou art fickle as the sea, thou art wandering as the wind,
And the restless ever-mounting flame is not more hard to bind.
If the tears I shed were tongues, yet all too few would be
To tell of all the treachery that thou hast shown to me.
Oh! I could chide thee sharply--but every maiden knows
That she who chides her lover, forgives him ere he goes.
"Thou hast called me oft the flower of all Grenada's maids,
Thou hast said that by the side of me the first and fairest fades;
And they thought thy heart was mine, and it seemed to every one
That what thou didst to win my love, from love of me was done.
Alas! if they but knew thee, as mine it is to know,
They well might see another mark to which thine arrows go;
But thou giv'st me little heed--for I speak to one who knows
That she who chides her lover, forgives him ere he goes.
"It wearies me, mine enemy, that I must weep and bear
What fills thy heart with triumph, and fills my own with care.
Thou art leagued with those that hate me, and ah! thou know'st I feel
That cruel words as surely **** as sharpest blades of steel.
'Twas the doubt that thou wert false that wrung my heart with pain;
But, now I know thy perfidy, I shall be well again.
I would proclaim thee as thou art--but every maiden knows
That she who chides her lover, forgives him ere he goes."
Thus Fatima complained to the valiant Raduan,
Where underneath the myrtles Alhambra's fountains ran:
The Moor was inly moved, and blameless as he was,
He took her white hand in his own, and pleaded thus his cause.
"Oh, lady, dry those star-like eyes--their dimness does me wrong;
If my heart be made of flint, at least 'twill keep thy image long;
Thou hast uttered cruel words--but I grieve the less for those,
Since she who chides her lover, forgives him ere he goes."
1.6k
This is about a friend who inspires me. a single mum, though not through choice; working as an escort, though not through any real choice . . I could have written about her daily grind, stubborn persistence, commitment . . though, when i babysat for her, i grew to know a different side of her, so . .through her daughters eyes, I'd like you to meet my amazing friend
Constance
Her blocks are the building of my life....
Her palate ? . . A rainbow of crayons,
Glitter for stars upon sparkling smiles.
Pride set . . Within my sunrise eyes.
Her strength . . my faith . . In a Mothers arms
This worker bee queen pollenates my mind
With fine aspirations . . We Blossom . . I bloom
This bagel baking children's entertainer . .
My Educator . . Guardian of the School gates . .
My Guiding and providing angel
Wears Big Girl Pants . . with sassy pride
In the absence of an insufficient man . .
Never complains
Who, when I ask why . . Asks why not ?
Chides my moods and minds me kind . .
Listens . . and listens . and listens and listens . .
Tells cinema for bedtime stories ,
Giggles when I wobble ,
Tickles outrageously,
Ties her smile . With a lipstick bow
She Breathes gentle truths . .
Dries my tears discreetly . .
Proves and improves her worth
Everyday . . She's A . . . Sunny side up
Spaghetti hoop spell and
My Candy-floss Mind spins
Glistens . . with Magic
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 12:07 PM UTC
There's a fog over Inverness,
Wrapping the banks
Of the river Ness;
Enveloping me
As you once did.
A fog that will not dissapate,
A mist that mirrors
The break and ache.
A fog that chides
Lonely distress.
This fog can't hide
What I can't forget.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 11:02 PM UTC
i Know exactly who you are,
and i know very little of where you've been
who's touch left a mark
or suckled at your side ---
i don't really care to know,
but i also don't really care.
you may prEtend
that i am just another blindfolded
beauty --- you don't but you
Very well could
not at my expense
by in your defense
scared child
and one who chides
In fury
like a seesaw in sway
a question toppling another ...
i'm not trying to dig so deep,
it happeNs
it shrugs
you shrug
i tear on off
today tada no witchcraft here!
--- you know exactly who i am.
there is something i can't hide.
there's a place i don't know about.
and it creaks
collects dusts, mutilates
and folds over in a creepy
crouch, just Zoning inandout
of your consciousness.
you've found the deceAsed girl,
the 'I-could-never-love-a-soul'
under troll-bridges girl ... and i've been nowhere
but here.
and i know nothing of you
excePt as you are to me
when you're tangled in my extras
controlling your relAxandrelease,
and i'm the pretender, i act like i knew anyThing
before you
as you Atmosphere around me
and ship me off in mist to sleep
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 2:32 AM UTC
she
Eats mine emotions
And mars my veriest heed
Her arms is a fortress,a congenial devotion
The cannibal of whom I find peace
But certainly,the no creed
I inhere to●
■
Her
Breath speaks severity
But of fortune prudence and quietude
She sinks me the depths of her whims
Yet,ludicrously of null whips
■
Her
Eyes eclipse blunt my sights
And rancour the rhymes of my visions
But then,she is the fair breed of gleams
A pleasant hue of sparkles I beseige
■
Her
Tender tongue carriers coals
Of undying vengeance
Of which every touch trembles
Yet even as so
It feels finer than rosy Arabian night breezes
■
But
Her crest which be the counsel
Of which the wildest devilry passions is seeked
Chides and macerate my mastered pettings
■
Yet
She sets tables in her thighs
And serve the most but motley affections
■
She is despotic but decent
SADIST
©Historian E.Lexano
®Recalcitration With Excellent
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 9:35 AM UTC
This pareidolia grips me
with fingers made of nothing
Clouds can’t lie, just are
and what I choose to see is mine
Whether this weather flatters or chides
is all inside, inside
Jul 18, 2021
Jul 18, 2021 at 10:24 AM UTC
Life is so hard sometimes.
It pulls, taking the table cloth
along with it.
It strengthens, taking the tide
along with it.
It chides
talking the moon
out of its misery
wishing it were daybreak
but when day arrives,
the moon wishes it were night.
Round and round we go
on this roller coaster called life.
Hanging on is so difficult
with responsibilities tugging
at the mainframe
about to crumble apart like
break pads crumbling under
the weight of it all.
A pressurized catapult or
catalog explaining the width
it takes to squeeze through
the trash chute without
crushing anything of importance.
Holding our breath
as the bumps become clear
afraid of the coaster
slipping off the tracks
and plummeting into
the frigid unknown.
Luck is only heresy
in this world of uncertainty.
But cars can be fixed,
jobs can be taken,
and bodies can be satisfied
in ways unheard of in reality.
Life is so hard sometimes.
But looking at it with new eyes,
with a combative, stubborn grip
on the cold steel handle,
a roller coaster can be both exhausting and exhilarating
if you know what to look for.
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 4:49 PM UTC
Darkness of the patterned cloth,
Roughness of the sheets,
Wakeful wisping washing dreams,
Needless, needless sleep,
"Awake!" and "Awake!",
Alarm clock cries,
Quick and roll,
Avoid demise,
Bright and vivid bleakness seeps,
A coil to neck and chest,
Lost and losing the way it seems,
The serpents war is best,
"Arise!" and "Arise!",
A savior shouts,
Cast off the snake,
Forget your doubts,
Blackness of the inner eye,
Restlessness, heartlessness drives,
Struggle to the surface so close,
Final, dreaded release arrives,
"Sleep." and "Sleep."
The demon chides,
Hold gets tight,
Time he bides,
Sleep, Awake, Arise
Sleep, Awake, Arise
Sleep,
Awake,
Arise.
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC
I could list the number of people that have been killed by police in the last year.
I could list the number of police that have been killed in the last year.
I could list the number of people that have died with cause in the last year.
I could list the number of people that have died without cause in the last year.
I could do all these things
but it wouldn't matter
because somewhere along the road
we lost our way.
We have battled over the meaning of life
it's freedom!
no it's money!
Power!
Happiness!
We have pursued what we set in front of us
with little regard for its effect.
We build amusement parks over graveyards.
Death is unfortunate now
of course when it isn't useful.
Police **** a man and it's symbolism.
A man kills police and it's symbolism.
A white man chides a black man and it's symbolism.
A black man chides a white man and it's symbolism.
it's lazy
it's also unfortunate.
If everything is symbolism
then nothing is.
If we cling to every moment like it's a rock on a cliff
we will fall to our death every single time.
We grasp for the bigger picture
as we fail to see the smaller one.
Everything must mean something
no moment should be lost on us.
it's lazy
it's also unfortunate
What i'm saying is that the meaning of life
is thought
pure unadulterated
back of the head against the pillow
eyes to the ceiling
hand on the heart
mind in the clouds
thought.
Thought defies population statistics
thought frees you from the numbers.
Suddenly it doesn't matter how many police died last year
or how many people they killed.
If we think we can observe the issue
or ignore it entirely.
We can do whatever we want
isn't that what life is supposed to be?
But thought requires work
we must view not only both sides to every story
but each degree of the angles in between.
It isn't easy.
It isn't simple
and that's why I think it will never correct itself.
Next year more people will die
because we won't think.
it's lazy
it's also unfortunate.
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 2:21 AM UTC
Show me love
and I will do the same
Bring me love
and we will bring each other pain
Your my drug
feel you crawling in my vain
I feel your love
and its driving me insane
I feel your vibes
and I can say the same
Play on; as the music chides
two can play this game
My heart on my sleeve
your body on my brain
love you like a lover
I want your soul to do the same
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 10:28 PM UTC
Intrepid gadfly;
the voice of dissent.
Multiple times stricken,
multiple times resolved.
Though he bleeds,
still the pen that chides never bleeds,
nor is it obliterated.
For three decades and four,
death he evaded,
still, multiple times stricken,
evasive he remains.
Aug 19, 2022
Aug 19, 2022 at 3:34 PM UTC