"conditionally" poems
"Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play."
sang Paul McCartney in his song
and my first lover to me a long long time ago in the Atlantic mystery by the golf of Mexico.
I believe it's better that,
"when we love someone,
we do so un conditionally- without any expectations no riddles or fill in the blank games or cold computer screen mirror- button- pushing disaster!
Like my wealthy elite did to me just to show me how troubled he really was. Even though hurting to test a woman's heart is acceptable if worthy material.compensation exists.
Nothing really beats the face to face dialogue
embracing his lady with a hug and a passionate smiling kiss
an adorable " I love you"
from a true love lover
who was Lost and~~~~?
~~~~~~
Lost~~~~~~~~
passion~~~~~
change~~~~~
earth~~~~~~
(Fill in the blanks please.)
~~~~~~
Revised:03/30/19
By: Karijinbba.
(Asg/Bba)
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 3:21 PM UTC
Regardless how precise the assay of their life,
Most men must remain an enigma;
Their motivation fired by inner strife
A polymorph for which no sigma,
Nor algebraic symbol will suffice.
No If and then which personality
To a course of action thus relates,
Nor can it be hypothesized conditionally,
The turmoil emotion intrinsically creates,
When alone they stare into death's reality.
Two dimensional is the biography of any man.
We see his length and width, never grasping depth,
Though fortune deems we live within his span.
Much like this into my life have crept
Those I love, yet may never understand.
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 12:11 PM UTC
“I love you, unconditionally.”
But yet you hurt me with words and actions.
“I love you, unconditionally.”
You use me for yourself and treat me like an object.
“I love you, unconditionally.”
Your jokes, though you think they are nothing, dig deeper every time.
“I love you, unconditionally.”
Your hands don’t feel like love anymore.
“I love you, unconditionally.”
Your eyes aren’t filled with happiness anymore.
“I love you, unconditionally.”
When do I draw the line?
“I love you, unconditionally.”
How long do I let my unconditional love hurt, deceive, and break me?
“Do you love me...unconditionally?”
And to my new love?
“I love you, conditionally.”
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 7:15 PM UTC
Mommy why, i was just barely opening my heart to you
Mommy you see me through the screen beating my life to you
120 beats per second ,faster than your heart mommy.
Mommy, I feel your smile broaden
Mommy I will love you conditionally
**Moommyy what is this clamp mommy ,
please don't it hurts it hurts please mommy**
Seven Weeks , Three Days Pregnant
I lost you my precious , Words will never define the darkness I feel in my heart . The darkness of how unloving my heart became, How heartless humanity was around me like infectious leech. Letting you go was the consequences of the bite. Please forgive me, I made the biggest mistake in my life. The one mistake, where you won't grow up to learn from. What was left of my heart became stone cold , I let go my true shot of happiness, but I couldn't bring you into a world of brokenness and despair. You deserve better, but better than you will ever receive from me. One day I hope you understand. I promise you , my love lies deep in my veins. I love you ,Heaven needed you back and I regret not standing like warrior and fighting for you. I never will wash dirt on my back,I can never stop apologizing for the vicious attacks you endured by me . Every sunrise and sunset I will forever mourn the death of my own humanity against you.
One last breath,Mommy, I love you Forever
I'll float down the river ,patiently waiting for ocean to wash me into abyss , humming to the lullaby,I would have sang to you my precious gift.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 4:20 AM UTC
I'm not your prodigal son;
I'm your abandoned daughter.
Don't wait around for me to return.
I won't.
I gave and gave because I was a child
Hoping for love I received conditionally.
When I stopped giving, you left.
That says more about you than me.
You worship a God in your image.
One who asks for all.
You say he loves unconditionally,
But that's what you said about you.
You worship an abuser,
And in his name you abuse.
You pray for repentance
But are unwilling to change yourself.
I know you miss me.
You want me back so I can give,
And a part of you really does care.
Your actions matter more.
You could love me again
If you wanted.
I haven't hidden myself from you.
I'm still here.
You can't expect me to come
Crawling back to you.
The fattened calf you'd offer only
If I approached on your terms.
That's not the forgiving father.
That's a parent still grasping
For control of their child.
I don't need your food.
If you wanted to learn,
Maybe even consider
You could be wrong,
I might call you again.
You won't even use my name.
Like the neighbors of your savior,
You say, isn't this our son?
I'm unwelcome in your home.
So I've finally done it.
I did what I knew I had to.
I shook the dust from my sandals,
And I left.
Sep 9, 2021
Sep 9, 2021 at 1:39 PM UTC
this is a poem about the Tulsa Race Riots
terrorism doesn't compare to self destruction.
disaster between the slaves, and their masters
we're richer, but they're smarter.
black wall street abolished, its name never in vain
although we remember, we'll never understand the pain
with our own eyes, it would leave us blind
by flash bombs, envy, discrimination
and hatred of our own kind.
gunpowder made buildings fly against the street lights
red and green, bombs still singing, ears still ringing,
we might as well be deaf.
the grass is always greener,
but our skin will never change or fade away
and to live in the past destroys our future
because just when we started to rise from the ashes
we burnt ourselves down again
from opposite sides of the city,
north and south
attract like polar opposites
wasting away green with envy
you can try to forget
because theres new paved concrete
but its still the same street
we owe to the stampede
jealously, destruction, revolution, prosperity
worn out buildings and bricks trapped us
but we're still free
under state laws
but only conditionally
the city sleeps when we do
but stays up late with disdain
days wasted and blown into the air
like concrete and fame
its a shame that
race riots black wall street and greenwood share the same name
it can't stay this way
one day, tulsa you'll change
you'll paint the streets again
faces engrained on
black walls like oil spills
treading new roads
buildings towering above
there are bodies below our feet
but that doesn't mean we're above them
and one day we'll breathe again
we'll write the names back into our history books
their sacrifice on our tongues
remembered, never in vain
like saviors honoring the pain
but never throwing it away
greenwood rising again.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 4:46 AM UTC
*Falling for a poet
is like swimming in an ocean*
of warm, blue water,
with currents that never cease
and waves with a constant flow.
Natural, the water is,
though some would call it
***** unfiltered* & dangerous-
and dangerous it is, absolutely!
Swim in too deep and
you'd probably drown in its volume!
Oceans cannot be tamed,
Oceans cannot be blamed,
Oceans can be changed.
But if you do get out of the ocean alive,
if you do manage to conditionally survive,
you would be leaving the water
***** poisoned & polluted.*
Hence, the poet shall write.
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 1:53 PM UTC
Butterfly globe make light in a passion pit.
My beach house is surreal, is a high water mark,
is the heart of all the radio left in this world.
But I am here writing technical reports
about environmental beasts in Massachusetts,
in New York in Connecticut where I think
people stuff air, drive slow and waste everything.
I can tell by the aerial maps that geography is
tethered by our parceled teeth of desire.
In the office I whisper, love is urban
a little too loud but no one decides to hear
and so I scribble it on the FOIL and send it
to municipalities in search of property records
in search of environmental concerns,
old pre-industrial gas stations with nameless owners.
I like to zoom in and out real neurotic
When I should be looking for the Site,
with the – Conditionally Exempt Small Quantity Generator.
Instead, I’d like to live between every green space on GoogleEarth,
an ubiquitous witch fevering undulating land,
thighs straddling the seasons between documentation and myth.
Release. Repeat the Response Action Outcome.
Instead, I envy the road – all wide open
yawn stripe and ticking yellow. I’d write,
"Tank Status: Removed," in purple chalk across
the brick and vinyl siding of all the buildings on Columbus Avenue.
This morning I am impossible.
This morning I believe I am Earth and I can’t say no
to the height of caffeine in subterranean climates
and the reflection my mouth makes swallowing navy blue,
waves like falsity, waves like any nation flag
under screen. I often think an office is not a space,
there would be less sighing, there would be love in action.
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 12:28 PM UTC
I don’t feel very good
She says and she looks at me with those big doleful eyes and
I say
Oh yeah? What are your symptoms?
And she says I feel far away from you even when you’re next to me
And I say me too
And I’m listening to the staticky scratch of the needle at the end of the record thinking about how far from me I’ve been
And how could I have possibly been close to her when I was so distant
From the present tense
I’m tense in the present tense
And I’m sleepy because in the conditional tense I can do what I want
I want to sleep
And dream about anywhere but the present tense and my single bed with its yellow-tan sheets
And that record’s still skipping and has yet to be flipped and I’m
flipping
but externally I’m ice water
crackling on my wobbly coffee table singing me to sleep so I can dream about something else again
something like meaningless ***
because meaningless *** feels good
in the present tense
and I’m present tense
I’m present tense and future tense and conditionally tense and
I just can’t bring myself to flip that record
Because I lost the tracklist
And I don’t know the lyrics
And what if it’s worse than the first side
So maybe I’ll just listen to it skip
Until the skipping
Puts me
To sleep
Again
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:30 AM UTC
Like a knife
Against my neck
Inconsiderate
Selfish needs met
you ruin my soul
love conditionally
But...
When you're tired
I'm expended
Broken and bent
like a used rag
tossed on the street
just because of you
and your selfish streak
This...
My body
My temple
In three days torn
to the ground
with no hope
of rebuilding
what you stole
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 10:23 AM UTC
I see in your eyes,
Two shallow pools of white with coffee mixed in,
I tremble before them,
You judge me too hard.
I hear it in your words,
The desperation reeks,
Its care you say,
I don’t feel it anyway.
I see the way you are,
Insincere and shapeshifting,
You’ll love conditionally
‘Don’t worry’ you reach your hand out
Each time we touch I die a little more
Its scary out there,
Look in the mirror to feel safe
My mind puts up a fight
So I need you all again
The pity holds me well
Well enough to try again
May 13, 2025
May 13, 2025 at 2:53 PM UTC
I have hatred for the way I FEEL
Yet without this towering misery over me, I wouldn't know how to HEAL.
I wouldn't have searched out and brought light into finding myself, me.
I would have kept seeking for unconditional love in someone else, like yourself, you.
When really i need to stop loving myself conditionally, cause these wounds sting.
I need to devote to loving ME.
Yes me.
So yes, yes, I AGREE, I need to learn, but can't you SEE how this COULD BE distressing...
Like how the **** did SHE and how the hell did HE,
Belittling myself out of confidence,
and
Over thinking into depression.
yet I know I'm worth more than this, I get it, no im not a failure I get it. But as luck would HAVE IT, my mind has a go AT IT, and discovers a sensitive spot for it to pick at it.
**** this place.
I'm frozen from love here.
Yet if i hadn't come here,
I wouldn't have known i needed to grow.
Caving in to sadness, I get lost in feeling hopeless.
But I won't give up.
Because I'm not a failure,
even though I feel like one,
and I AM wonderful even though I don't feel like it.
I WILL have better days...
God teach me how to love me.
Teach me how to fall in love with me.
I want to grow.
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 3:41 PM UTC
I. Sincerely
To the girl that decided
my time
wasn't worth hers.
II. Declarations
I love you.
I miss you.
I care about you.
III. Present
All I wanted was your
presence,
but you consistently
faded.
IV. Attachment
You wanted me unattached,
but being unattached
I walk away.
V. Conditionally Unconditional
My conditions are
presence
loyalty.
Sorry I lied about unconditional.
VI. Someone
You've got time for someone.
Not me,
but for someone.
VII. Simply Enough
I cannot give my time
for those who do not.
VIII. Giving
You can't ever
get
what you're not willing
to give.
IX. Complete
I love wholly.
I don't switch.
It's all
or nothing.
X. Home
I tasted home upon your lips
where you tasted distance.
XI. Lost
I lost a home.
Another place
I called my own.
XII. Closed Doors
I knocked.
I jiggled the ****
No one ever answered.
XIII. Small Chapters
I was a page to you.
You were a chapter.
XIV. Discarded
A book forgotten upon a floor.
Pages torn, Chapter 1.
XV. Poetry
I turned you into poetry.
That's what you wanted,
right?
XVI. Past
I will write about you
long after you've been gone.
XVII. Self-Worth
I may have lost you,
but you lost me too.
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 10:18 PM UTC
Dear Inquirer,
Thank you for your beautiful expressions.
Asking about opportunities and possibilities.
Love is full in my life.
Experience and expression flows from my heart
From the imperfect experiences
Expressing a desire for something more
To raise the vibrations of lower emotions
Discovering how to embrace a higher light.
I am blessed with a husband who is imperfect
He challenges me to grow within our love.
By understanding the underlying needs
Echoed through his imperfections.
These roots of our yearnings
Reveal a child neglected.
A child conditionally loved.
A child buried within the man
Who desires to give and receive love.
Yet because of his imperfections
Expression can be awkward, at times.
His child who mirrors so perfectly
My own imperfect inner child.
Through the ups and downs
We agreed to keep a promise.
That no challenge, no issues
Will ever be more important
Than our hearts desire to
Learn and grow deeper in love.
So we journey together along the road.
We bump into our hurt feelings and misunderstandings...
The very opportunities within our garden
That bloom into greater wisdom and undying love.
Long ago when our love was young
It was necessary to put our pride aside.
As the fire of anger roared
He taught me how to open my arms.
Together in an embrace.....
We breathe ....
Until the hammering stress subsides.......
Calming, cradling our pain.
Together, in turn, we explore:
What do I need to understand, right now, in this moment?
What was my trigger? Who or what am I reacting to?
And the pieces of the puzzle fall together.
Our Promise remembered.
Our promise fulfilled, once more.
Over the years
Our wisdom and love grows
Knowing 90% of our anger
Is from our hurt and sadness, rooted in the past.
10% from our protective ego's, "How dare you!!"
Aimed at the teacher, my mirror, my love, my companion
Who is but keeping his role, very well.
As we bump into each other
To dance with the shadow within, each of us.
We step into the darkness with faith
To find our courage and embrace
Our lesson wisdom and Light.
Dear Inquirer,
I am grateful to be loved unconditionally
I wish for you this beautiful form
Of ever growing unconditional love and joy.
May it bring you adventures
Deep appreciation and a beautiful growing
Courageous love, in this lifetime.
Please, count me among the ones
Who hold this blessed prayer for you.
With Best Regards,
Keiya
Jan 5, 2020
Jan 5, 2020 at 6:19 PM UTC
"Have you ever been in love?" I asked her.
She smiled wearily and looked into the distance. "Yes," she replied, and it broke my heart because I felt the pain she was hiding. I saw it in her sad eyes and in the circles around them. I heard it in her firm voice . I felt it. And it was a pain so great, like the whole world caved in on her. I felt that pain **** the air out of her.
She looked at me and drew a deep breath. "I still am."
"Where is he now?" I asked her.
"Probably in his office, preparing a blueprint for a building."
"Is he married?"
"Not yet , but he will be."
She cleared her throat. The wind blew and her hair brushed against her face. Her hair was dark with a few streaks of gray. She looked younger then, with that serene look on her face. I could see her again as an eighteen-year-old. She was still small, but she had a certain kind of fierceness. She was altogether fragile, like thin glass. She was broken, but she did not cry.
I shifted in my seat. "So he's engaged?"
"Yes."
"Do you know the girl?"
A hint of a smile showed, but I knew it wasn't of amusement. Even in her smile, I saw the sorrow. "She was my bestfriend," she replied and it was the first time I heard her voice quaver. A tear rolled down her cheek. She laughed miserably. She laughed at the ridiculousness of her situation. She laughed at herself for being so stupid, so pathetic. So hopeless.
She didn't love like others did. She didn't love so fleetingly, so conditionally. She was forgiving, and gave second chances as if they grew on trees. She loved with her whole heart. She didn't love with the physical kind of love. She loved with her soul, and she loved another soul. One soul. One man, and that was it. And she knew that even in the end, when she lies cold in her grave, she will never stop loving.
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 9:41 PM UTC
Darling,
You were there for me,
I'm sorry I was such a mess.
I couldn't see you, for the fences and walls surrounding me.
The truth is I wouldn't have
been able to, it didn't matter
As hard as you tried to love me,
I had to love me too.
I had never learned how
unfortunately
So when I said "I love you"
I loved you the same way I loved me,
so conditionally.
Mar 1, 2024
Mar 1, 2024 at 2:31 PM UTC
I wish I could stop.
I'm getting better
Alot better,actually.
So much so I'm questioning typing this.
My audience may not be as understanding as I.
But if you all can be raw
Without fear of reprimand
For your thoughts are your thoughts
And your feelings are your feelings
Why should I fear?
I need to get this out.
I have triggers now.
More triggers,great.
Once upon a time
Those triggers were normal
For us millenials.
A door slamming.
Yelling.
**** men.
Now,
It's scales.
Something I'd never feared.
It's the mirror.
Something I'd never wanted to break.
It's the the feeling I get
Right before I strap on
My running shoes.
The feeling of being trapped
Into doing something I 'd rather not
Yet feel forced to.
It's innocent comments
Innocent questions
That while I was never huge
And matter-of-factly shrinking
Take me back to the mirror
To question any ounce
Anything extra.
It's clothes
I have so many clothes.
And I hate the vast majority.
They don't camouflage.
They don't blend.
They open the door for triggers.
It's makeup
Something I used to love
For years
That now
I question.
I wonder if it's to play with my features
Or to over-compensate for something I now know
I don't have.
This has taken me over:
These triggers.
And all it took
Was one response
to a question
I'd asked.
One comment that acted on senior triggers
So much so
that it created new ones.
It's funny how the mind works.
I'm not mad.
I'm really not sad, either.
And I eat
I told you all I'm getting better.
I'm just a girl
Seeking an attainable goal
Who unfortunately
Until then
Will have this looming
In the back of her mind.
And almost everyday
I wish
I never would've asked that question.
I'm sick of loving myself
Conditionally.
I want makeup to only be
For ***** and giggles.
I don't want to hide
In clothes anymore
And when I'm not hiding
I don't want to question my choices.
I want numbers
To simply be numbers
Not those individualizing
A jail cell.
I want comments
To slide off my back
Not slide to the dark corner of my mind
Where I place those things
I don't want to remember;
Into my subconscious,you could say.
I want to be wholly happy with myself
and with the things I used to love.
Emphasize,don't sympathize.
I promise I'm fine.
But isn't this a place of raw honesty?
Where even the fine can place their subconscious in text?
Until then,I guess.
I'm just a girl.
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
Small Morning Poem
How many times have we heard
"I understand you completely"
And repeat exactly what you just said!
There are some that say that conditionally
Or ender conditions
I want to know how many times is the truth said
Around places of peace
I wonder how many times is the preaching,
being done
I admit it, I don't always do what I preach
Or preach what I do.
God is working on changing that
But it is time for US to stop the concept of Religion
Its just like a long list of chores
What we live is life though God's words
Through the bible and Jesus called religious people "hoers"
All the do is make a façade of neatness
dressing up the outside making it look nice
"I understand you completely"
Only say it if you mean it
Only try it if its real
God understood and died for me
Ill understand and Live for him
Im not strong, but you have my hand
and my shoulder to cry on
If God gives me the opportunity to hear your story
Ill listen, but I wont pretend to know how you feel
Ill tell you that im here
And that I am real
Don't tell God you have a big problem
Tell your problem you have a Big God!!!!
Those who have ears to hear,
let him hear!
(In the Words of Jesus Christ!!)
We are forgiven!!!!
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 7:48 AM UTC
It’s an internal feeling just like any other.
Both hard and soft at the same time
and always unforgiving.
You write like you mean something to someone.
Like someone is going to read your words and agree
or understand
or try to get it
but it slips past them every time.
You write like you have something to say.
Like someone cares and wants to hear.
To understand.
To agree.
To disagree.
To spill respect either way.
You write like he’ll read,
like he’ll care
and he’ll hear you once and for all.
He’ll really hear you
and won’t tell you you’re wrong
even though you’re always wrong.
You’ll write like he loves you.
Unconditionally.
Not conditionally.
Only when you’re perfect,
perfectly quiet
not writing at all.
You write like you’re right.
Like you know.
You know what’s best.
What’s best for you
and he can’t tell you what to do.
Though he can
and he will
You write like you’ve overcome it
once and for all.
Or just once.
One time would be enough.
For now.
To start.
You write like he’ll listen.
Listen to a word you’ll say.
Or write.
Or think.
Or try to spit out
even when your tongue is as tied as a shoelace
You’ll write anyway.
When he doesn’t read.
When he doesn’t care.
When he tells you you can’t write.
When he tells you you’re wrong.
You’ve misunderstood.
You’re too sensitive.
You’ll write
and breath
and cry
and speak.
And it’ll mean something,
to someone
somewhere.
Even if it means **** to him
Because he said it was wrong.
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 11:47 PM UTC
My power on you
Is negligible
Yet you hold me tighter
Tight
Tightly to you.
We dance around
In endless rotation
I spin
Immortally.
I breathe you in
I walk all over you
Yet you don’t know
I exist.
I am one piece
Of the puzzle
Of your skin.
You are hot and cold
Oscillating my emotions
Tidally locking me
Ensnaring me
Into your brilliant bath.
She is jealous.
Stronger and brighter than
I am smaller and feeble.
Her light shines luminous,
My glow is conditionally a specter
Unseen.
Eons ago she was yours,
And the crawl of seconds
Pulled her away
And the crawl of seconds
Birthed me upon you
Given the chance
She would wrench the blood
From my veins as she
Tugs on your arteries
Yet the iron given to me
By you, residing in my
Bones and beating chest
Holds strong, touched by
Your lifesaving magnetism
Your ferric ferocity shields
Me. In an invisible
Aromatic atmosphere of
Blanketing love.
You swirl me
Rotate and revolve me
Wake and quake me
Birth and waste me.
Mother and Father providing
The soul within me, the
Soul beneath my feet.
My planet, my world
You are my Earth.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
Vulnerability
and a
whimsical
aloofness can
provide an
unselfish love
of truth
innocence
and
genuineness.
Don't love
conditionally
or with
strings attached.
Everyone is
different.
Everyone is an
individual.
Everyone is
unique.
Love because
your heart
and soul
overflow with
an unselfish
pureness.
Đaviđ
💞🙏🏻💞
TheConcretePoet
Aug 6, 2021
Aug 6, 2021 at 5:14 AM UTC
I love you conditionally,
and with all of the parts of my heart that aren't too busy keeping me alive.
I love you with the mediocrity of ten toaster ovens,
as opposed to the fiery passion of a thousand flaming homosexuals.
I love you in way that allows me to come and go as I please,
and in a way that is most convenient to me.
I love you no more than a wife loves cleaning,
or a husband loves working.
I am used to you.
I love you in a way that probablymaybedefinitely isn't quite love.
But I suppose it's the best I know, for I am far too scared to leave,
and seek out the “Mad, Passionate, Extraordinary” love that is the stuff
of what I wish my life to be.
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 1:25 AM UTC