"competent" poems
don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.
be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain
who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.
juggling mates
and
attitudes
their
confusion is
constant
and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.
beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."
and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God
for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.
don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone
for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.
I am a dog walking
backwards
I am a broken
banjo
I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio
I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.
put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.
137.2k
We were misfits
the neglected ********
of a backwards world
that rejected us
not because we were sick
demented or dangerous
but because we didn't prescribe
to a preconceived notion
of what a functioning citizen was.
Not rotten enough to spoil
behind the bars of a prison
just competent enough
to work menial jobs
and drown our sorrows
at the corner pub.
We swallowed this hard truth
the same way we drank our shots
with no chaser
and at times it burnt
maybe even made us tear up
but we never let it beat us
(too strong for that)
We were beautiful
resilient beasts
that could carry the weight
of the world upon our shoulders
and it was heavy
but we would tell ourselves
"doesn't every world need an atlas?"
so we went on holding up the sky
when no one asked it of us.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
GENERATION EQUALITY
It is equality when you work with her.
It is equality when she leads the team.
It is equality to see her, think her and call her the boss.
It is equality when she promotes her accomplishments.
It is equality to pay her the same as him for the same job.
It is for sure equality when you give her credit for that brilliant idea.
It is totally equality to admit she is more competent so she gets the job.
It is equality when she has an opinion and is confident to make it known.
It is equality when deciding for herself is norm.
It is equality when bias and stereotypes no longer define her.
It is equality when her achievements are no longer firsts.
It is equality when she is well represented in critical areas of concern.
It is definitely equality to treat her with respect and dignity.
It is absolutely equality to fight alongside her for peace and justice.
It is real equality to be her allie, support her future openly.
It is surely equality for her to reclaim and take up spaces.
Not just a woman, not just a girl, not just because she is your mother or wife,
Not just as your sister or your aunty, not just because she is your daughter,
But as the very evident, clear as day Human that she is in this generation and
Generations more to come.
An integral part of a collective whole, we all need to better uphold.
Each one responsible, Each one acting consciously, Each one shaping up,
A generation for equality.
Belema .S. Ekine
belemascribbles
Mar 8, 2020
Mar 8, 2020 at 5:41 PM UTC
We wander, we wander,
By moonlight, I ponder,
Whilst sailing my ship towards that shimmering star!
How we who are pirates, so willingly wander, both hither and yonder, no matter how far…
Methinks to myself, “Not a bad life to lead, no longer a slave to the land like before…
The wind at my back, so utterly freed, to seek out adventures, on any fair shore!”
“Why do it?” Methinks, as I stand on the prou, the breeze on my face, lightly tossing my locks,
For any a man would be called crazy now, for braving the sharks, and starvation, and pox!
Is it the gold, that calls me to sea? Where hurricanes howl, and sturdy sails rend!
Or is it the freedom that calls out to me, and gold is not more than a means to an end?
For me, ti’s the freedom, to do what I love, to sail by the light of the stars up above, And stand on my deck, under moonlight, to ponder, how we are those pirates who willingly wander…
My ship, a fine lady, a handsome thing too, a good set of guns with a competent crew, her holds full of treasures, and finest apperal, and row upon row of *** by the barrel!
So drink in the morning, and drink in the evening, and I would be lying if I didn’t say, We guzzle the *** from dusk until dawn, and me-thinks I’ll be sipping it all through the day!
Then we dance on the deck, for the music is playin, the chilly night breeze has our ship gently swayin,
And off once again, for we willingly wander, “But why?” Says I, as by moonlight I ponder…
Wouldn’t we like to at some place belong? Would dropping our anchor for ever be wrong?
Perhaps there’s a place with a temperate climate, and someone to care for a salty old pirate?
But till that day comes, I shal willingly wander, and whilst I’m the captain, by moonlight I’ll ponder…
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC
1716
Death is like the insect
Menacing the tree,
Competent to **** it,
But decoyed may be.
Bait it with the balsam,
Seek it with the saw,
Baffle, if it cost you
Everything you are.
Then, if it have burrowed
Out of reach of skill—
Wring the tree and leave it,
’Tis the vermin’s will.
6.9k
Quaint
pink curtains and tablecloths.
White walls.
The sugary smell of almonds, pistachio
and butterscotch skip around the room,
playing hopscotch and Mary Mack.
The display is impressive,
I can smell each grain of sugar
in these petit cupcakes and dollops of icing.
And then a little girl wails!
Mommy won't buy
her anymore
sweet treats.
Bawling--
the girl does an angry-stomp-dance-
and then a woman, livid--
storms up to the counter.
I said half dozen almond biscotti.
I can't take these to my book club.
Isn't anyone here competent?
Her booming voice has no effect
on the lone,
tired African-American woman behind the counter.
She seems disassociated from the present chaos.
The dark circles under her eyes
and the surrounding pursed lip wrinkles say everything.
Excuse me, but I've been waiting
on a refill of the complimentary coffee
for over ten minutes now
an uptight gent in a business suit complains.
When the woman behind the counter
pulls out out a shotgun--
there is silence.
This ain't what I wanted
she whimpers just before
the weapon gracefully slides
under her chin--
--!BAM!--
As I walk out the door,
I wonder how long it will
take for someone to realize
that's not red icing or sprinkles
on the cupcakes.
Aug 13, 2011
Aug 13, 2011 at 10:32 AM UTC
arms clasped around your knees
while your eyes overflow with dysphoria
and spilling those things called tears.
you begin to wonder when the walls started to tower over you
while kept under those warm things called blankets,
the only things that kept you warm
while your heart was frozen in time that had elapsed
these towering walls
seem to be looking down upon me
and they tell me I am enervated
as I am limp under those blankets,
the only things that are competent to providing me warmth,
as my heart cannot.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
Hark! Now everything is still,
The screech-owl and the whistler shrill,
Call upon our dame aloud,
And bid her quickly don her shroud!
Much you had of land and rent;
Your length in clay ’s now competent:
A long war disturb’d your mind;
Here your perfect peace is sign’d.
Of what is ‘t fools make such vain keeping?
Sin their conception, their birth weeping,
Their life a general mist of error,
Their death a hideous storm of terror.
Strew your hair with powders sweet,
Don clean linen, bathe your feet,
And—the foul fiend more to check—
A crucifix let bless your neck:
’Tis now full tide ‘tween night and day;
End your groan and come away.
3.9k
"Move" they say
and put martingale on with a neigh
Thai pony in Chiang Mai
A green patch of grass
was what your heart desires
would yourself like a chew of truss?
In the forest with no name
on hard concrete without an aim
swimming with the tuk-tuk wave
"Where am I?"
you ask with side-patched eye
"My knees are soft like a microwaved pie"
But all you ever get
is a whip on the back
from the oddity with some leather strap
"Why are you so hesitant
while all the other stallions are competent
don't you know the creatures in the carriage are very important?"
"How important are the vultures in the world I don't know
but I know that I won't say no
if you borrow a thread of my hair for a violin bow
and play their funeral march with it to and fro"
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
I like the word oxymoron –
probably my favourite English word,
It sound derogatory but it is just a figure of speech.
I kind of like the word nincompoop
but I’d change it a bit to noncompoop
which would then I can say is an abbreviation for non-competent ****
I made up the word mysticscientist –
I know it’s hard to say, perhaps i should shorten it to myscientist.
I like the word strumpet,
coz even though it sounds like a musical instrument,
It’s actually another word for a **** not the eating kind.
Another fav of mine is teetotaller,
I mean who on earth would ever guess this to mean
someone who doesn’t consume alcohol,
really who came up with this, I’d really like to know.
When young, I learnt a word that truly stuck;
It’s guffawed meaning laughed out loud;
It’s the prefix guff that completely throws you off,
guff out loud, she guffawed or gol like lol!
(guff is not a prefix, just saying it looks like one: guffstraying, guffanalysing, guffanance)
Everyday I open the dictionary to discover new English words;
it’s a wonder to me, that the list keeps growing
only 26 letters but still quite amazing.
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 2:27 AM UTC
When I was borne
my mother passed away and
one day father also
left the hut leaving me alone
and my destiny was now
homeless, helpless and orphan
vagabond I was now
roaming around the road and streets
in search of food and shelter
But I also have some dreams
I wish if I were competent enough
I could have opened
an amazing school
where free education would
be right of every poor and needy child
and now no more poor child
would be deprived of education
I wish I could have built a dream home
for every homeless and destitute child
now no more child would
spend dark nights in the open sky
I wish I could have made
a beautiful garden where
every homeless child would play
and run after colorful butterflies
and beautiful flowers of all colors
would bloom in the garden
I wish I could have opened
a big kitchen near the dream home
where every hunger child
could eat to his fill and hence
no more child would be esurient,
unfed and indigent
I wish I could have opened a factory
where clothes could be stitched
for poor and naked children
and no more child
would be devoid of clothes
I pray to God that
my dreams come true one day
(By Kishan Negi)
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 12:30 AM UTC
MY
gender has a big *** problem
we think with our *****
because our brains are in our *******
a nicely curved rear
a subtly protruding chest
imagination always adheres
and the hands do the rest
in our teens we’re rabbits
in our 20’s we’re wolves
by 30 we’re lions
and 40, owls
psychologically volatile
emotionally detached
physically competent
spiritually mismatched
understand, we’re arrogant ********
when we’re trying to save face
we are also capable of shame and regret
not every jack holds an ace
the exterior is tough
showing only what ruses the eyes
true that a man can bluff
but even crocodiles cry
the next time a **** tries to be one
fret not, you can still have fun
start by questioning his masculinity
and move on to “you have a tiny….”
yes that’s right,
go ahead spite ME.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
I have a friend who still believes in heaven.
Not a stupid person, yet with all she knows, she literally talks to God.
She thinks someone listens in heaven.
On earth she's unusually competent.
Brave too, able to face unpleasantness.
We found a caterpillar dying in the dirt, greedy ants crawling over it.
I'm always moved by disaster, always eager to oppose vitality
But timid also, quick to shut my eyes.
Whereas my friend was able to watch, to let events play out
According to nature. For my sake she intervened
Brushing a few ants off the torn thing, and set it down
Across the road.
My friend says I shut my eyes to God, that nothing else explains
My aversion to reality. She says I'm like the child who
Buries her head in the pillow
So as not to see, the child who tells herself
That light causes sadness-
My friend is like the mother. Patient, urging me
To wake up an adult like herself, a courageous person-
In my dreams, my friend reproaches me. We're walking
On the same road, except it's winter now;
She's telling me that when you love the world you hear celestial music:
Look up, she says. When I look up, nothing.
Only clouds, snow, a white business in the trees
Like brides leaping to a great height-
Then I'm afraid for her; I see her
Caught in a net deliberately cast over the earth-
In reality, we sit by the side of the road, watching the sun set;
From time to time, the silence pierced by a birdcall.
It's this moment we're trying to explain, the fact
That we're at ease with death, with solitude.
My friend draws a circle in the dirt; inside, the caterpillar doesn't move.
She's always trying to make something whole, something beautiful, an image
Capable of life apart from her.
We're very quiet. It's peaceful sitting here, not speaking, The composition
Fixed, the road turning suddenly dark, the air
Going cool, here and there the rocks shining and glittering-
It's this stillness we both love.
The love of form is a love of endings.
2.6k
Hail in peace wherever you abode now, dear Nadine Gordimer
You white daughter of Africa, the pen-mistress of July’s people,
You are the lover of July, your holy months of literature
That similarly gave a ****** grave marriage to Maziz Kunene
The African saint of orature; And Okot P’ Bitek, the lion of Gulu,
July have wedded you to the sombre grave in the Jo’burg,
As its apparatchik, the menacing jaws of death feel humdinger!
O! Dear little daughter, cursed are the jaws of death
They have kept on wooing and wooing you relentlessly
They have yearned for your betrothal with mad jealous,
For your iconic position in white African literature,
In which you stand with soldierly embrace a Nobelite,
They have now taken you to their inner chamber nuptials in death,
Before anything; let them now pay dowry to your bothers;
J M Coetzee, Alex La Guma and Dennis Brutus,
For there’s is a competent herds boy, a black shepherd;
Ezekia Mphalele, his living soul will keep the cows
Off down Corner B of the troubled African Image.
Say hello for those you are with in the current realm,
Say hello to foremen and fore daughters of Africa
Those that chose to visit the realm of ancestor precociously;
Say hello to them; Angelo Maya and Doris Lessing,
Let their caged birds and blooming grass sing uproariously,
Marriama Ba and Margaret Ogola, African girls,
They had a long letter and the source of the river from black dialectics,
O! Dear old baby Nadine Gordimer, stand firm in face to face with nothing
Other than the present time you’re in; the Africa’s realm of living dead
To sing the ballads of anti-apartheid both in heaven and on earth,
The only true testament of your footprints on the global sands of times
That Nadine Gordimer, July’s white-African daughter is deadly alive!
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 9:18 AM UTC
I am only pretty when I'm naked.
I did not give you permission to **** me inside of your head.
Please get your imaginative hands off of my unobtainable soul,
and close your mouth,
you're drooling like a coward when he sees something that he cannot have.
I belong to no one but myself.
I am old enough to know the rights of my body.
I am only pretty when I'm naked.
Stop recording every moment we will never have with your undistracted eyes.
I did not ask for this,
I am covered in clothes that do not accent the curvature of my frame and yet still you gawk,
and I will be asked what I was wearing that night.
I was wearing my right to say no,
but to him I was wearing my inferiority.
I am only pretty when I'm naked.
I am a female powerhouse.
I am competent with my tongue in many ways yet you ache to abuse it.
I am inclined to tell you what is best for me, but I am a woman.
And I know nothing.
You will beat it into me until I actually know something so well that I choke on it.
I am only pretty when I'm naked.
I am incapable of loving because, to you, I am not justified,
so you will show me how until I cannot breathe any longer.
The bruises and scars will taint my porcelain skin like mud on brand new sneakers,
except the black, blue, and crimson cannot be rinsed from my body
as easily as my clothes were removed by you.
I am only pretty when I'm dead.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 1:23 AM UTC
The sun peaks from behind
Just to warmly say hi
I encourage myself to smile
And view the world without a sigh.
Let me observe what is right
And detach the wrong knit
Let me decide with supreme might
To avoid the doom pit.
Let me face obstacles without fear
And let my body steadily bear
Let me cure the wound with tears
And change the misconception of dear.
Let me enjoy my worldly life
But not abandoning the true divine
Let me kiss the moment that rife
To make my days stay shine
Let me live within the moment
Appreciating the oxygen given
Let me strive to be competent
In studies, in work and in romance.
Let me be the real me
Who is weak but love Lord
Don't judge, don't peeve
Cause I believe not only me is odd.
To live a life that is hella dificult
To be a girl of diamond worth
To ignore any kind of evil cult
To make my mark on Earth
I thank myself for these endeavour.
Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 11:02 PM UTC
How does the competent optimist endure the positives opposite?
The prerogative to remain positive is the only option for an optimist.
Every day is a happy belated celebration of its creation.
Exposing pearly white incisors to express a bipolar condition.
A giant grin with lips spread open.
A face with a giggle in the face of sin to face demons.
The monster with in becomes, a polite ******* delight, a young baby boy eating joy, the excitement emitting the submission to a feeling of complete air under the soles of feet.
The feat of sky walking never lukewarm, a feeling newborn.
Yesterday was the best day ever you could have sworn.
However, today will be so much better the endeavor to find pleasure in everything and whatever.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 2:41 AM UTC
"After all, you’re only human,"
I’ll take that as a compliment.
A human can be anything,
if only you are competent.
Mar 18, 2020
Mar 18, 2020 at 6:29 AM UTC
We pour out our hearts in our work
We ask for corective critic
Not a boastful ****
We give so much information
about who we are
Sometimes the subjects are
too sensitive by far
The writer may have
a hard time being objective
yet we want the reader to be subjected
Can you see through
the poet Eyes
the reason for the vivid
imagery wise
I benefit from knowing
your age
it assists
my thought proces,
as a gauge
Every ten years
a person changes 100%
Birth to ten, it is easy to see
Ten to twenty,
the mindset invincibility
I am six years
into my fifth life
lived, loved,
am a mother and wife,
happiness, anger, and Strife
The more we know
about the poet
Helps us understands
the poem as we know it
As we get older
we realize
how little we know
understanding
there's so much more
room to grow
So please fill out your bio age
and all the information you want to share
so we can review your poem with competent care
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 4:42 AM UTC
Dancesong soul your
gentle yet competent –oh so competent—
fingers are mesmerizing with
chipped baby blue nail polish
adorning the clear keratin
you often forget exists.
you also quickly cease to remember that
You Exist. kaleidoscopic and symphonious
tremors of life can break
you in violent waves or soft
eucalyptus scented embraces
oscillating between ecstasy and
euphonious melancholy
is Okay.
raging with life
stay vivacious and full of
sweet scented oils and soft yet strong
--oh so strong—
unrelenting
music.
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 9:47 PM UTC
563
I could not prove the Years had feet—
Yet confident they run
Am I, from symptoms that are past
And Series that are done—
I find my feet have further Goals—
I smile upon the Aims
That felt so ample—Yesterday—
Today’s—have vaster claims—
I do not doubt the self I was
Was competent to me—
But something awkward in the fit—
Proves that—outgrown—I see—
1.6k
The strings were pulled of a bitter signal
Erratically hateful in their draw
Commencing the judgment of her mental state
As a bloodthirsty crowd looked on in awe
All her pleading notations were met with objection
By all their unfeeling eyes
Who merely wished to bear witness to the surrender
Of sanity and to see its quiet demise
Suddenly without warning an onrush of light
Blinded the probing eyes of the crowd
A curve of great decision was suspended in space
As they began to read her crimes aloud
Guilty as charged a voice rang out from the light
For moving against the grain
For not following behind the shadow of others
She is guilty, she must be insane
Completely unnatural, no control of her faculties
She cannot possibly be competent, the voice loudly rang
Daring to be optimistic in the face of grievous pain
She holds no resentment, she must be insane
Her sentence was pronounced for the entire crowd to hear
Claiming her incompetent and unfit
All the eyes in the crowd remain blinded by the light
Yet she doesn’t mind at all as she smiles and sits
She smiles into the faces of the blinded crowd
Knowing she has not changed a bit
****** she may be to the unfeeling eyes of the blind
However, they can never take her own happiness
Jul 30, 2010
Jul 30, 2010 at 6:13 AM UTC
I just want them too truly
To know they are as and more
Dearly too when we are all as my
3 here re see Eve'd as I already knew
U had come too re a shore the lonely sailor
With One One Another Ahoy!!!
~The Promise Be Shore Surely!!!~~
~Love of my life baby girl V~~Star'Sis!!
Come Darling Coming!!!
Still and More
Shall be!!
Mote
IT
B
!
.
.
Air All Was As Crisp Still Clear
Moon o'V very bright fully too
Towards the Dead of Line's
'tween be of a day by
Tip Tipper of Nite
locally See Sea's
longitudinally
onward thee
tracking
surely
so..
x
\/
x
\/
x
\/
.
.
X
Then the waters did part as quick
As Glass Shattered into that house
Midwife Be Thy Holy Need
Pop Quickly Spotting
Pop On Top One
Pop on Top
too lil' me
seeing
see
E
Y
E
Then just as sudden as the quick
The winds did there kick kick blew
As Blackly Be But Stars
Dimmer Too For
This Moon Of
Wooing
Thee
BE
I
N
Too All Mighty's
So Whispy of Whispering's
Windy's Cloud's Streak
Speak's Th'Eye's Sky's
Here's Holy's
Hearing's
Love
Is
.
.
O
N
L
Y
By Moon So Overly Fleet Flew
Fastly Flying All Heavenly Hands
Took Competent Handling of All Decks
Twas not this no not the one for a mutiny
All the Blood Bearing Beings before had overly
So much of scutiny too Wards of The Captain Too
They felt as his captive's Too A Madness Of Missions
*more: Coming ha ha Guess Guess!! Bless Bless!
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 11:50 AM UTC