"condescend" poems
Buzz of electricity.
Snow refrozen in the night air.
Laundry veins cooing.
Trees standing without wind.
Clear sky calling to other life.
A chair of safety and the silver spoon.
What would life be like as a Native or a Black, an Hispanic or Asian?
How much more alone would I feel?
How much more understanding would I need to be?
How much would history paint me?
Would prisons call out for me?
Would ghettos know my name?
Would people condescend?
Mar 2, 2021
Mar 2, 2021 at 3:45 AM UTC
All is calm.
relaxing and re-energizing in the sun.
enjoying the sweet sugar-rich liquid.
With no time to spare,
Enemies zoom by in a flash!
Faster than a bullet
But still able to see its distinct wings.
Flying over again,
Dive bombing, trying to take over.
Both take off into the air soaring all around!
whizzing faster than the speed of light!
Racing high up to the heavens
then plunging to the ground at full force!
but able to pull back at the last second!
gliding swiftly across earth.
shrieks condescend between the two!
As they fight flying over the land
They don't even notice what has happened.
another hummingbird lands
and enjoys the sweet victorious nectar.
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC
Do not glance at the answers of your classmates.
I do not mean this in a strictly literal sense.
Do not glance at the answers of your classmates.
This is a reflection of Ego, the morality of a copier:
Seeking the easy way out; without personal gain.
Self-defeating in the truest sense of the term.
Those who concern themselves with the affairs of others
shall forever condemn themselves to a sort of cognitive hell.
Do not concern thyself with the lives of others;
you have thy own path to walk.
Those who seek overtly to alter the affairs of others
usually presume or at least condescend
and in the process of doing so
allow themselves to go astray.
Do not glance at the tests on your classmates desk;
what is worse: to know you are wrong, or to deny to yourself your ignorance?
Do not look unto others for answers for your problems
for they cannot know what battles you fight each day.
Look inwards for deeper understanding
for it is thy prism that is responsible for thy spectrum
which in turn is responsible for your perceptible reality.
The truest of teachers do not claim to be so,
the truest of scholars do not simply attend formal classes
the trust of sages claim not their wisdom,
the truest of wisdom seems paradoxical.
Look not unto thy peers for the standards to which to hold thyself.
If this seems to be selfish or self serving,
I wish to remind
Illusion is begun with "I"
and "I" is a temporary vessel.
Thy body knows thy path;
It is thy vessel; it has a compass.
Follow your passions while you still can.
Begin thy Magnum Opus.
Nothing else matters.
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 1:34 AM UTC
I can dance,
I can act,
I can sing,
I am a clown.
Watch me dance and fall down,
Laugh at me,
Laugh with me,
I don't care for I am a clown.
Want to hear a joke?
Knock, knock and what do you get...?
An open door, a busy tent,
The ringmaster cracks his whip and on I run with the animals,
In time to the beat I tap my feet,
I am a clown.
I can cry,
I can feel,
I can laugh,
I am a clown.
Watch me sweep the spotlight,
Applaud when I'm done,
Applaud but not in awe,
I am a clown.
Am I the only person who doesn't get the gag?
Am I the only puppet person?
Pull my strings and I'll do what you want me to,
I am a clown,
But I don't feel the laughter that you do,
It's hard to laugh - so on with the make-up - a front.
Oh, to climb the ladder and do the trapeze,
Or walk the high wire,
But no! I am a clown,
Respect?
"Sorry you're a clown."
I gave up,
I gave in,
Gave my all,
But I am a clown.
Don't bother to watch the tears,
Disregard the sad clown,
Disregard the talent of farce,
"You're a clown, you don't feel."
The darkroom is where I belong,
On a photo to bring joy, to make people laugh,
I make you laugh - I can command you,
But I know that when you go home,
Your lips won't mention me except to condescend,
It's an art! I trained at RADA you know.
So home I go,
Alone,
To a place where I can cry,
Into the arms of my wife,
See my children run to me,
The ones who know me,
That's what it's all been for,
Now I truly am a smiling clown,
It's not so bad as a clown at home.
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 2:49 PM UTC
Insecurities
I rest
Comfortably
In my Gods blessings
I see
You may not agree
Still
You stay talkin' bout me?
Ain't it a sight to see
A woman who lacks the insecurities
You slap upon your ***
Like graffiti tags to concrete
My freedom is fortified
Leaving you mortified
By the comparisons
But then again
I won't condescend
I won't react and attack
With the same ******** you extend
Instead may I recommend
Some knowledge
From one sista to another:
Much can be achieved
When you let go of the beliefs
Imposed by those
Who know
No other way
To be
(c) 2010. Composed by Soulfull. Soulful Synergy, LLC.
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 1:14 PM UTC
I bring hotdogs and turnips to it
gladly sit in the unpopular rows
with people who know their **** stinks,
not those who feel a need to condescend
degrade and comment on others here
I would gladly bring 'tato chips
and nachos and pass on the high brow
caviar some think they are
for you smell
when you judge others
like you are the beginning end and class of the show
when you are just
pretty versions of ********
in better clothes
with store bought words and
stupid wits.
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 7:45 PM UTC
Why the **** is there
all this disdain for varied techniques?
So what if I like altered guitar tunings?
Sorry that all my guitars
are in D Standard or drop C.
Yes, even the ******* Classical guitar.
*I never meant to inconvenience you,
your Eminent Prestige!*
Maybe it's a problem
on thy knavish behalf
that you can't cope
with variation within the
Sacred realm of Art.
Don't ******* tell me
what to do or how to do it.
Don't ******* tell me
my approach to my Art is wrong.
Don't ******* crawl to me
when you want to learn how it's done
and I won't say I ******* told you so
when you confess your perspective lacks variety.
I will still teach you, though,
that is, if you will listen.
I will still teach you, though,
if, indeed, I can.
I will still teach you, though,
but only if you can teach me, too.
I will still learn from you
despite your rigid adherence to traditionalism.
I will still learn from you
if you don't ******* condescend me
about how I decide to do it
about how it feels most natural
about what I like or why;
just ******* deal with it
like a true Artist;
accept it and bask in it,
that everyone's technique
is unique.
Besides,
be it not that very variation
that lends itself to the plethora of Art
that has been, could be, and will be made?
Be it not that very variation
that leads a school of thought
away from being so incestuous
that it kills itself off?
Be it not that very variation
which makes Democracy feasible?
If Art be neither
democratic or anarchic,
then I guess I'm no Artist.
Just ******* deal with it.
If you can't: then shut the **** up,
and let us, who can deal with it,
just ******* do it.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 2:37 PM UTC
Cheesy eighties shows make me feel like
Being a bulimic alcoholic is a good choice.
Why is everyone so ugly?
That's a confidence booster.
I could cry over the amount of sunlight I see.
I'm like a little warrior,
Standing on a hilltop of daisies,
With a pair of pink, sparkly safety scissors in my hand,
And a smirk of a five year old genius across my face.
Take my hand and tell me I'm perfect,
That my scars are beauty marks,
My absolute beauty is incomparable,
That I'm your china doll.
As you lay me down on your bed,
And let me know that I'm the only girl for you,
This week.
Take away my safety scissors.
Condescend me.
Tell me I do not know what I am talking about.
But I see everything from my daisy hill, you know.
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 8:31 PM UTC
Now that February days leave sweat on a
glass
Weather mixes me up
Like a stiff drink
Let the ice melt
Let the ring on the table condensate
And condescend me
Plain as a paper towel
Just read in between the vowels
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 1:02 PM UTC
102
Great Caesar! Condescend
The Daisy, to receive,
Gathered by Cato’s Daughter,
With your majestic leave!
1.8k
Let's all have a pity party
I'll share with you all my laments
Then you can croon your condolences
So that the healing can commence
Let's all share some sympathy
And mewl and condescend
Let's all feel better about ourselves
At someone else's expense
We'll be nice
And give advice
Convinced that we are ever so kind
Our victim will be flattered by our attention
By the fact that we took out the time
Let's guilt them into forsaking their self worth
And bend their will to suit our own
We'll reduce them to the status of a begging dog
And then we'll throw them a bone
Individuality is to be abhorred
As are the flaws in their body and face
We have to all get together on this
Someone's got to put them in their place
Then we'll hang a sign around their neck
Which reads "Don't Be Anything Like Me"
This is turning out to be a great success
What a grand ol' Pity Party!
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 1:11 AM UTC
196
We don’t cry—Tim and I,
We are far too grand—
But we bolt the door tight
To prevent a friend—
Then we hide our brave face
Deep in our hand—
Not to cry—Tim and I—
We are far too grand—
Nor to dream—he and me—
Do we condescend—
We just shut our brown eye
To see to the end—
Tim—see Cottages—
But, Oh, so high!
Then—we shake—Tim and I—
And lest I—cry—
Tim—reads a little Hymn—
And we both pray—
Please, Sir, I and Tim—
Always lost the way!
We must die—by and by—
Clergymen say—
Tim—shall—if I—do—
I—too—if he—
How shall we arrange it—
Tim—was—so—shy?
Take us simultaneous—Lord—
I—”Tim”—and Me!
1.7k
A little trickster called Jack
Always prepared to condescend on what others lack
upon sprouting out like a clash of thunder
The body of the scoundrel split asunder
Now the victims intimidate what remains of Jack
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 12:00 PM UTC
Big Black Dog,
You do not
think about the future
Only what's directly in your view
Big Black Dog,
I really envy your free spirit
And I wish I could
think that way too
Cause lately I've had so much ****
holdin' me down
And though I sometimes hear you whine
You never frown
I've got so many worries now
they're all around
Livin' in this wicked devil town
But
Big black dog,
you don't worry at all
Big black dog,
you'd rather chase a ball
Big black dog,
you make me smile
Big friendly dog,
you aren't hostile
Big black dog,
You don't condescend
Big black dog,
You're my best friend
Big black dog,
You run so fast
Big black dog,
You never feel harassed
Big black dog,
You never fail
Big black dog,
You always wag your tail
Big black dog,
So happy and free
Big black dog,
pissin' on a tree
Big black dog,
Don't run away
Big black dog,
let's have a field day
Big black dog,
I'll throw a stick
You can bring it back
It's how you get your kicks
The big black dog
My big black dog
Dec 10, 2010
Dec 10, 2010 at 5:38 AM UTC
(Dedicated to Eric Onyebuchi Jibero)
What an excruciating blow
You have dealt me!
A brute's uppercut offloaded
A smashing hit delivered
Like a monstrous boxer
Desirous of fame
With an amateur to tame
At this one bout too many
Wherein you have hit me below
The belt as a sadist deriving joy
From my anguish
And relish
From my enormous loss
Oh mower,
Nay hewer,
Can't you feel anything?
Can't you see?
Can't you reason for a while
With your prey?
Can't you pause to ponder
Just for a brief moment
So you can take a good decision
Choosing the right tree to fell
Instead of bringing down a mere
Sapling with your obedient saw?
Why deal sweeping blow
On a mere rookie?
Can't you distinguish
Between the ripe and the unripe?
Between the hen and the chick?
But hawks like you can pick
Meat amidst bones as Moses
In a basket amidst bulrushes
Of Nile to spare from Pharaoh's
Infant-eating sword
And in wisdom did you wait
Patiently to visit Methuselah
At the zenith of hoary hair
Master of double standards
Eyes gorged
Conscience seared
Heart cold like frozen chicken
******* dry and drooping
Like a hag's
A ruthless scorpion
That stings even babes
Rampaging ravager
Notorious brigand
Marauding machinery
Eliminating without scruple
Whoever you choose
Whose hireling are you?
God's or Satan's
Or both?
A blank cheque you flaunt
To cash as you wish
But can't you condescend to a negotiating
Table when a mere sapling is marked
For a cutting down?
Being a professional boxer
Long in this senseless trade
You should have seen the heap
Of pain you would leave
In my heart by this cruel blow
Against a budding amateur whom
You have served voracious earth
Whose stomach is a leaking tank.
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 5:22 AM UTC
Where does it lie?
It's either throwing sand
or digging holes.
It's either loyalty
or tainted souls.
Proclaimed neutrality.
I call bs.
It's fear wrapped up
in indifference.
Can't let them know
that you're watching them.
Scoffing, bitter
when you're really wanting,
when you're really loving.
Condescend,
you're better than ill.
You see a shrink.
You've never been still.
I try to accept those in places
I used to be.
You try to forget
you were ever less-
running from one end
to the other.
They're bad,
and you're good.
With no in-betweens.
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 9:08 AM UTC
A Poem for June
Just why a cucumber should be so cool
Eludes the logical; a cucumber’s just
A vegetable a-lying on the ground
Awaiting consumption. But let’s accept
This vegetarian cliché’ simply
To get on with this cool descriptive task:
Whatever’s cool in the falling June sun
Descends through oak leaves, dark and summer green
And dancing down the air falls happily
Upon this cool cucumber cave where sits
Upon a wooden bench a lazy man
Who should be taking now another turn
With lawnmower, shovel, or shears against
The wild greenness of happy midsummer.
But, oh! Persephone surely won’t mind
If her allotted garden tasks are paused
By her appointed minion rustic who
Takes now his ease in her delightful shade.
For summer after all is more than work;
She calls for dozing too, and dreamily
Watching busy bees buzz among the flowers,
Like fussy matchmakers arranging marriages,
And hummingbirds humming in and out of leaves,
Their sanctuary leaves, to argue at
The nectar-feeders, as if there weren’t
Enough for all. The squirrels in the trees
Would never condescend to chitter there;
They glare at humans disapprovingly,
Like old teachers unhappily aware
That, oh, somewhere, somehow a child might be
Enjoying life, and that would never do!
Even the ribbon of smoke from the morning’s
Trimmings and cuttings and sawings appears
To be taking a nap in the summer noon,
There gently snoring up wisps of ashes
Instead of roaring, hissing manfully
As it did in the early hours.
The bench
Along the fence where the tired old man sits
Creaks as he shifts his weight, and watches
His backyard world doze in the leaf-laced sun;
He lights a well-deserved cigar, and sees
Its soothing smoke join with the ******* fire
Ascending heavenward with peaceful thoughts.
Jun 1, 2019
Jun 1, 2019 at 1:05 PM UTC
In the time before,
I was empty, miserable inside,
A wretch whose every smile was war,
Whimpering for a curtained place to hide.
The day, desolate;
Night, in its black stillness much the same.
Pitched pain, itching for an exit,
Legs set to cease the heaving hate and blame.
Now, I feel my heart
Beating love-blest power through my chest.
Before unfelt, its bucking start
Divests the owner, all along mere guest.
Symphony, rise, crest,
Condescend to my low-sighted view.
I sleep to wake, straight-up obsessed,
Eight letters and a period for you.
Careful now, don’t jest,
Lest my past peers profitable heist,
Dethroned selves sing out through the mesh,
Anguished, set to vanquish their sole poltergeist.
So, patch; never cease
Paragon of love’s delightful dawn,
Persisting for the barest piece
Of you, the whole of why I am not gone.
Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 12:58 AM UTC
I thought every word that you spit from your unclean lips would make me shine
I thought they’d make daisies bloom from tragedy over time
And create a masterpiece that no one had ever seen before
Something truly sublime
But instead your words proved that every doubt of mine was surely not wrong
That the time you had with me was far too long
That the time it took to love myself again was far too long
Because of your actions
And because of my silly heart
I agreed to run along
To be strung along and torn apart
The bed I made
Where I laid my head on your legs instead of your head on mine
The blanket that split our light unevenly
As well as define the line
Line
Lines leading up to what your words defined
*****
But no
Wait
You didn’t mean it like that
What did you mean if you didn’t mean it like that?
What else could you have meant?
After all the time we had spent
The traces of your scent left me itching
Creating dents in my once porcelain skin
Twisting our reality
And twisting your words
And molding my thoughts into birds
So that they could fly far away
From your solid ways of pulling me back in like you were gravity
My paper weight
Holding me down while holding me back from opportunity
Becoming the grounded gate that surrounded
And swallowed me whole in the end
You are no longer the black hole
That I try to comprehend
I no longer defend you while you condescend me
Like you are the sky above the sea
Thank you for showing me that I'm strong enough
To rise above and be free
Let my battle leave mementos in your mind
To remind you of the time you tried to defeat me
But failed miserably
|s.s|
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
House made of walls that condescend
The word of the Lord no longer a trend
Hate floats through the halls
And it's all good and well
Until the foundation crumbles
And damns you to hell
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 9:06 PM UTC
You shelter me through tempest storms – indeed, you are my friend.
You never try to change my ways, instead you interblend;
I’m free with you and you with me, and neither will offend.
In spite of fashion's etiquette, your care does not depend
on ways I dress (or part my hair) - I’m not a passing trend,
and in my need you comfort me till twists and turns unbend.
We needn’t don thin masks of clay or otherwise pretend,
and when I sometimes act the fool you never condescend
but try instead to steep my views in eyes that comprehend.
At times I dwell within the depths, you smile and I ascend
to levels of tranquility which others can’t transcend.
You never ask, demand or take, you give and understand,
and when I’m lost, a frantic child, you lead me by the hand
through castle gates in mirrored walls throughout a fairyland
where fears and worries linger less than tracks in drifting sand.
With you my words are ever free, they trickle out unplanned,
and fearful feelings I possess you seize as contraband.
Your laughter flows upon my woes like waves on troubled strand
which leave behind within their wake a calm and peaceful land.
Not everyone is pleased, I’m told, that you and I are friends.
The world outside... they envy us... that you and I are friends.
We dare defy the green-eyed storm... for you and I are friends.
Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 6:00 PM UTC
Someday our hearts should
Crash like stars
On a fragile blue sea
You tend to
Condescend my
Questions
Turning me into the
Captain of the
Side streets
As I control the
Steering wheel with
Timid words
& beautiful exasperation
Your eyes looked
Reasonable
Enough to call them mine
For a few hours
Until the touch of air
Meant little to the
Passing minute
Call me your queen
& I'll tell you no
But my fingertips will
Dance
Because you asked me
First
I lock my answers in
A box that harbors a
Ballerina
& a lullaby
& I've forgotten where
I've hidden it
Over the years
When the answers
Are so much
More important
& we sit here at the
Crossroads
For hours because
You craved indecision
& I craved
Insistence.
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 5:09 PM UTC
Set the fire
In your desire
To become great
Amomg your mates.
Face your fears
Dry your tears
Aim far up,
Do not stop,
Loose no hope
You will cope,
Battles will end,
Do not condescend.
Set your eyes
On the prize,
It is yours,
Fill your stores.
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 3:44 PM UTC
Frustration
Revelation
Desperation
no Elation,
compounded by
the heavy
Situation...at hand.
Pride
Implied
Simplified
Justified,
truth set
Aside...consolation banned.
Spying
Prying
Dying,
no Edifying,
Defying, while I,
Complying
Intensifying;
some day...must take a stand.
Condescend
Pretend
Offend
Contend,
then a friend to
Comprehend
I Transcend,
lividity's End,
peace will
Ascend...new life to expand.
~ Conclusion ~
Transformation
Purified
Satisfying,
lessons acquired
and generously
Penned.
-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 8:21 AM UTC
I heard the trumpets from too far away.
Labored to save what I had given away.
Pretended to believe and Believed in pretend.
Semper Fidelis to the bitter condescend . . .
I answered the call, made a very important date;
scurried to remember then remembered too late;
embraced my Foe by forgetting my Friend.
What is this ‘This’ of ‘This We’ll defend’?
No Dream was too heavy, no payment too sleight
to abandon in the brilliance of the peaceful light.
So Determined I was to ignore my Fall
and give everything I bemoaned for security Above all.
No borders no boundaries no Heavens no Hell
nothing so precious it could not be given as well.
What use Freedom? What need I of mere Country?
What means Non Sibi Sed Patriae?
Oh Thetis put down your cumbersome sword.
Lift up the blindfold, as we can afford
to lay down courage, honor, duty and walk into the might
of Entitlement for All and for all entitled Night . . .
And Lady Liberty, you are no longer needed;
walk away, walk away, liberty ceded . . .
Here are your chains, Lady, wear them quite well.
Pray speak not of Heaven so we can pretend there’s no Hell.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC