"decried" poems
The right winter
for dope and ice
for walks along the river route
home
The right winter
for arctic pin-prick wind
holes in boots
turquoise dress coat
far too thin
for walks along the river
But The Merrimack couldn’t find her way
when fabric moguls migrated south
Fascinated by nylon nasties
they traded their silks and cottons
for those petro-polyesterdays
While she—
could no more manufacture life
than mint their money
So, they blamed her
Pronounced her—“Dead”
Decried her *****
Now—
She wanders sadly under bridges
stopping to eddy in an overhang of birches
In dank canals, I found her sleeping
angered only at the falls
Poor outcast!
with current edge she splinters light
from cities sadder still
retching her oily stench
past Plum Island
into the sea— into me
What’re a few warm tears
falling from someplace on a bridge
to the icy waters of the Merrimack?
Rivers get lost in the ocean don’t they?
Let them find each other there
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 12:49 AM UTC
Done with thinking because that's for god to do
I am just this appendage of a greater consciousness
Ahab is blameless
in his small existence
Don't quote me
quote Herman and Freddy Nietzsche
They and their hermits
coming down from the mountains
to declare they ought to have
loved their fate all along
Amor fati
Why couldn't we have been stuck in the herd all along
guys who get love and happiness effortless
no need to spend their life in anguish
searching through tomes
found in tombs for eons and eons
enhancing their social aloofness
and their unremembered trauma
'till those sad souls give those pansies confidence
to leave an exegesis of their own
Too smart kid
that decried Christ and
the shadows of a god all around
only to find the search for truth was hopeless
Find a way to dumbly enjoy life again
and you only say again cause
that's all we can control
our memories
and we too often forget
our thought habits
the pre-neolithic mind tricks
on ourselves
Too many MLMs profiting off false mindfulness
missing the point beyond exercise
and short stress relief
Change your thought patterns to love your destiny
That's the best we have
to pretend to have control in this ̶h̶e̶l̶l̶ hole
Jul 10, 2020
Jul 10, 2020 at 8:49 AM UTC
As Mars ascended,
One split in two;
The mitosis of fact
Splitting right through.
An anaphase ritual
Lining the floor,
Where I wanted mine,
And you wanted more.
But Venus was kind
When last she was here
And gave us a gift
Of temporal fear,
So we’d done this before
And the God was decried,
Yet out of the darkness of space
He cried:
‘Oh come to me Father,
I shan’t be denied.’
And Saturn, he heard
As he fought with Rhea,
And looked at his mother
And the remains of Theia.
A plan came to mind,
A clever time trick,
And we were caught fast
By the Great Malefic.
As Saturn ascended,
We split up again,
With no time to heal,
Our love was in vain;
For Venus had long since
Bored of our space,
And our love had begun
The sad telophase.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
dimble dumble,
caught a, thimble thumble
of precious morning dew.
dimble dumble, took his thumble thimble,
full up to rimful.
on his nimble rambull
wooly stu,
careful not to lose,
a drippity drop
of the delicious dew.
they flimble, flambled,
up and overed,
down and undered,
till dimble dumble,
with his thimble thumble, filled to rimful,
on the wooly rambull... came to stumble.
his face a crumble,
as the rimful,
roamed and overflew,
the thimble thumble walls.
a dribble drabble did scribble scrabble,
down the rambulls hide.
dimble dumble
chewed his bottom lip
and cried.
"do not fret my little pet, look there is still enough inside"
wooly stu decried.
"i'll be more staid,as we ride our fortunes, soon will be made."
so,dimble dumble
and his rambull crew,
with thimble thumble recovered,
from the tumble.
on they skedoodledaddled. being careful to protect the remaining morning petal's dew.
after a while, time,
flew with dove like grace and dimble dumble,
with his dudes came
to the the very place, of the rimble romble rumble
and royal rapture rap parade
dimble dumble
and rambull stu on bended knee
and really humble
presented their
thimble thumble
not quiet full to rim still
but delicious and felitious morning dew
to the king awaiting
his purchase and perview.
before its spoiling,
it was boiling,
his kettle singing,
songs a ringing,
to the beauteous,
but not so bountious, morning dew.
dimble dumble
watched the
thimble thumble steam
and bubble blip away.
hands flipping flapping
nose jinkling wrinkling
as the fog blew,
his way boiling dew,
tea leaves darjeeling
with daphne blossoms
was the flavour of the day.
dimble dumble
with thimble thumble
empty now
and too, wooly stu
caught a peek of teacups platinum
holding royal blossom brew before the butler,
with a silly stutter,
sent them on their way,
with dimble dumble
all a fumble,
with a thimble thumble
of goldenboldens,
as his hard work's
reward that day.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
They were like two peas in a pod
Holding hands
Exchanging tongues
Being prissy and laughing at those
Who long before saw their act
Though those two queers, they don’t see at all
They are midgets, and little, and erectly small
With puffed up chests
Stroking hens of the Cornish variety
All of them dregs of a social society
Slum lords and criminal minds
Under the sheets where no one sees
Which one is giving the other the shaft
**** and span they use after, oh so daft
One erotically whispered to the other
A Pain in the ***
As they kissed over their biblical wine glass
Seeking solace in each others arms
Licking their wounds with grammars charm
Grown men, committing sin after sin
Then blaming others for saying
God wants you to begin
Acting like men
And not emancipated boys
Stop diddling and twiddling
Leave alone your petite toys
One day Jehovah will make clear
Belittle others is worse than Queer
Little queens swallowing their own vile
While Ladies and Gentleman laugh
At the ****** and the Clown
In their lingerie and gown
God decried, let those two drown
Even Lucifer laughed under his frown
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 10:48 PM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
As its social phenomenality
Grows with zeal and verve
Humanity of love befits
Beautifully Elaborate explanation
To enable both young and the elderly
To have clear and useful
Knowledge and insight
Of what is love;
Shakespeare in the prime
Of his bardness decried it
A foul protégé of individual beholder
Christ confused it for self-immolation
In the succor of the universe
Leo Tolstoy thought that
It was minimal ownership of land
Umberto Eco in his scriptorium
Declared it man’s impaired judgment
Kenyan cubidmaestroes deem it human foully
To create a leeway to keep change of a Casanova
Mahatma Gandhi called it caste blindness
Mandela called it zero apartheid
Both in Luther King sang the song
Of nonviolent revolt
But me I will boldly clash
With the precedent civilizations
To call love foolishness of a man
And shrewdness of a woman
As for both man and woman the very love
In un-fangled in truth that it can’t pay bills.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
In a classroom neat as a pin
the sixth grade social studies class
discussed serfdom in western Europe.
Young voices decried
the inevitability of life for serfs. They
espoused running away from the manor,
could not conceive of a lack of options. One
young girl asked if a serf girl could marry
the lord, if the lord really loved her.
She had been sold on an idea of
equality. Marrying a serf, I told her,
would be like a farmer marrying
a cow from his herd. The concept
was beyond her. Of that I was glad.
May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 5:08 PM UTC
Blah Blah Blah!
In a blaze of anger I exploded.
His personal torment,
He created for himself.
I told the world a pack of truth.
About the sheep in lupine garb.
Dressed not in a sauce of mint.
Inedible,
Toxic to the end.
Darling, your good friends left.
Go curl up and die.
My friendship expelled at last.
My heart is fixed.
Go have a blast,
Poetic fantasist.
Straight from the heart of ex romantic.
For I am not to be destroyed.
Annoyed once by his drunken rants.
His narcissism.
The fairy tale he decried.
The one so truly self absorbed.
Stuck in syndrome,
Peter Pan.
Expelled his faeces.
Only way that I know how.
Wrote my heart out.
Demon exorcised.
Care not,
should I be cursed.
Now i'm gone.
Guess what,
I'm fine!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 5:02 AM UTC
Frustration.
It's not a child's game.
Frustrated.
She's messed up inside.
Realisation that love is decried.
Swung from the sky on an elastic noose.
A scaffold of porcelain holds it *****
She's ready to snap.
Her feelings are brittle.
She's ready to crack.
She wants to love him.
He can't love her back.
She swings on springs.
Adorned with legacy of heavy regret.
Dinner of dark chocolate warmed to the core,
Luscious delicious, but making her sore.
Desserts so just, just so not deserved.
Waited nearly a lifetime for one with such passion.
Like an old movie went clean out of fashion.
Once was a need to find a good reason.
The time is not right.
Love's not in season.
She hurt him.
We hurt him.
All womankind.
Fears all things will hurt him again and again.
This frustration bleeds and it's causing such pain!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 4:41 PM UTC
War decried
Throttling battle
Survival paper thin
World order menaced
by a tyrant
Ukraines 'will' stands tall
Feb 25, 2022
Feb 25, 2022 at 4:19 PM UTC
Oh Carvò Carvò you mindless *****
Why dost thow pen such artless ****
Yes from your artless pen doth grow
Artless work
You are internationally despised
YOUR CHILDISH MIND
So decried by better men than you
And yet... from your rancid pen the crap doth grow
Your artless work, no rhyme no flow
The ***** of an artless mind
You are the lowest of the low
And from your soulless ****
Your inflated ego grows
You pathetic piece of ****
You ******* moronic piece of crap
Hahaha and I rarely swear
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 8:22 AM UTC
Met Kali today on a descending escalator at the Galleria. Her six arms juggled assorted shopping bags, purse, cell phone, three children, and a fourth in a stroller clearly not hers. I stepped down in front to help balance her baby buggy. No sooner had I reached out for the rubber bumper that I felt lash of her tongue against my cheek. It was hot and frothy, smelled like a tall, non-fat latte with caramel drizzle, and quickly wrung itself around my neck. I was soon dangling from the precipice of an oversized potted fern where I had been perched by my assailant, high above the food court. I dangled dangerously as I saw chinks of chain giving way. The glass ceiling was begining to crack and about to cave in on me. I swung out and with all agility I could muster, landed in the Bagel Nosh's assorted schmears. Hisses and jeers decried. An angry mob of mothers chased me to the nearest exit. I almost didn't make it out alive.
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 11:25 AM UTC
you were the type of girl to read Ayn Rand
thinking o what good ideas in this Fountain
I was the type of who'd join a tontine
and play Russian roulette with self
till dead from cop killer bullet to head
or encourage co-conspirators
bury me 6 feet deep
you decried what joy there is in order
I cried out swollen summer sadness
what joy (is there at any joy at all)
in this madness
pointing out the chaos of everything
order in chaos is wishful thinking
for apes liking everything in neat little
wax paper wrapped deli packages
your satisfaction is my dismay
yet I cannot look away
wash me clean after
I sully you suddenly with
sickly sullen pallid mess
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
I've scorned and derided,
Needled and spited,
Those, who are closest to me.
I've cheated and lied,
Vilified and decried,
Those, who are closest to me.
I've toasted many glasses
With strangers in places
Where I shouldn't have been.
I've smoked and laughed,
Admired strange ***
In lands where I cannot be seen.
But mention your name,
And all seems so vain,
Those promises I failed to keep;
The losses that haunt me in sleep.
Despite confessed sins,
My transgressional whims,
I know I've always been true;
And when I bow out,
My whisper will shout,
Above all, I've always loved you.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 10:10 AM UTC
She held a bullhorn
To his ear
And being deaf
He could not hear.
And she decried
All of his wrongs
which to his ears
were lovers songs.
She cursed him
For his tardiness
To him, his head
she seemed to bless.
She cried he was a
lazy dog.
To him, she prayed
as though to God.
Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 9:03 AM UTC
Burning nostalgic memories
letting the smoke flow out my nose
Cause I resigned myself to just sit and pine
and dream about times where I paid no mind
to past lives
The past five years
I though the world would end
I shacked up with one that decried
my wasted potential in normal jobs
Like where do you get off
if I'm making halfway decent bucks?
The irony of our artsy resurgent humanity degrees
Just go and sell life insurance
Them boomers turned us into gloomers
Generation X, my young parents
the first victims,
at least they had half a fair shake in life
I think the 90s had it right
dripping in yin yang rings and necklaces
so we wouldn't lose our way
Woo wee, where were we?
Hiding from my brother in a clothes rack
with my parents at the mall every weekend
So much confidence in where we were going
The end of history itself
in our careful chaos regulation
Feb 27, 2021
Feb 27, 2021 at 6:02 PM UTC
With no conscience bombs were dropped
The bodies of children lay scattered
Hearts forever stopped
Home and families destroyed
Blood ran the streets
Welcome to Freedom and Democracy
They looked away
While millions died
The elected leader
By the US decried
We are here to help they said
Spreading their disease
Welcome to Freedom and Democracy
So they ***** the land
The oil and minerals seized
Welcome to Freedom and Democracy
The stars and stripes of death
Gently waves in the breeze
Welcome to Freedom and Democracy
All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Oct. 17, 2017.
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 12:33 PM UTC
Labor of love is not labor I thought
And so I climbed the rungs with ideals high
Off’ring myself as like a lamb resigned
To noble fate all shorn and naked brought
But I can’t as a martyr play this lot
Once it’s been seen as futile and decried
There is but nothing left, an empty hide
Where once a mighty steed stood here and fought
And yet a hope persists marking the war
To set out fresh and force the battle turn
New starts await where there are brighter aims
That don’t require such blood and sweat be poured
Perhaps one day again the heart will yearn
For a reward beyond these lonely games
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
Fear came and chased the soul.
Down empty road so lonesome.
Where one and one made only one.
Girl with smile of pussycat.
Claws torn out.
For real.
Gutted as a house on fire.
When fireworks collide.
Throw me not sweet tear drops
For love once strong and proud.
Decried for all your minions.
Very long and very loud!
Without a tongue.
So no-one heard.
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
Is life just one long sick practical joke.
Angels seek the living.
Just to choke them with their holy smoke.
Get born.
Be reliant.
In growth so defiant.
Marriage is an institution.
Leads to mental institutions.
When as parent strict.
Raise them with rods of iron.
Or maybe kid gloves.
But abuse them not.
Financially amuse them!
You work to chuck them all your dosh.
As if you always have enough.
Then when your money.
That you earned.
You have the audacity to spend.
They make you feel floods of guilt.
You feel like you're not their friend.
In a lifetime game of let's pretend.
Start to ache as you grow old.
Besmirch your comments as you write.
Believing youth.
Gives them the right.
To laugh at she of poetry.
Who once bounced them upon her knee.
Now decried for gifted brains.
Jotted in eccentricity.
And then how dare she.
She goes and dies.
Oh well, save your tears.
As no-one cries!~
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 6:05 AM UTC
Once you were a blazing fire,
Undoused by fear or favour,
Fuelled by ideals which our priests decried,
But one day History would savour,
You burnt your way ,through the backwoods of death,
Where the smoky memories, remind us with every breath,
That you were the slayer, of the darkness that came,
But your brightness blinded, our future just the same.
You abandoned us without a trail,
Let your legacy grow beyond stale,
And as the world crumbled without sight,
The blind bickered about the light.
Yet , real is our love to claim,
But fickle is our spark,
Don’t let us be a gamble of cosmic proportions,
In your battle against the dark.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
So many of my brothers and sisters,
Didn't make it to the other side.
Butchered because of their beliefs,
By agents of the faith we decried.
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 6:44 PM UTC
Changes have
reasons,
as
the year
has its
seasons.
Change can be
deplored,
Change can be
decried.
But
change
will happen
anyway,
even if
denied.
Feb 2, 2011
Feb 2, 2011 at 6:08 PM UTC
[Young Male Voice....inebriated, perhaps]
Slit of the tongue Frush guppy !
I sped to you today
So-nah
To treat you to a working meal and...
You’re not there !
You remained a way yonder
Sense-able to my.... me
but too.... mirage n’ fragrant for any talk
this side of miz..mizcomunication
Stay thus sway !
I’ve decided
Is decried
Please...and I’ll love you
as just what I can imagine you to be
...uh..so, yeah...see you tomorrow maybe
Agunda! AGUNGDA !
- voice out man
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 7:43 PM UTC
Words are very powerful,
This cannot be denied,
Once spoken they are tangible,
And can never be decried.
Words are like the stars above,
Uncountable and vast,
Once given out in hate or love,
Their light is ever cast.
Words are born from fantasy,
They come from deep inside,
Once written they are history,
And never more can hide.
Words are far from innocent,
Though we may claim they are,
Once shared they may be reticent,
But still can leave a scar.
Words are more than poetry,
Well crafted they might be,
Once heard they gain autonomy,
And stand for all to see.
Words are all our destiny,
When all of this is through,
Once carved into posterity,
To live on after you.
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 8:23 PM UTC