"defeatism" poems
abolitionism
absenteeism
absolutism
abstractionism
absurdism
academicism
academism
achromatism
acrotism
actinism
activism
adoptianism
adoptionism
adventurism
aeroembolism
aestheticism
ageism
agism
agnosticism
agrarianism
alarmism
albinism
alcoholism
aldosteronism
algorism
alienism
allelism
allelomorphism
allomorphism
alpinism
altruism
amateurism
amoralism
anabaptism
anabolism
anachronism
analphabetism
anarchism
anecdotalism
aneurism
anglicism
animalism
animism
anisotropism
antagonism
anthropocentrism
anthropomorphism
anthropopathism
antialcoholism
antiauthoritarianism
antiblackism
anticapitalism
anticlericalism
anticolonialism
anticommercialism
anticommunism
antielitism
antievolutionism
antifascism
antifeminism
antiferromagnetism
antihumanism
antiliberalism
antimaterialism
antimilitarism
antinepotism
antinomianism
antiquarianism
antiracism
antiradicalism
antirationalism
antirealism
antireductionism
antiritualism
antiromanticism
antiterrorism
aphorism
apocalypticism
apocalyptism
archaism
asceticism
assimilationism
associationism
asterism
astigmatism
asynchronism
atavism
atheism
athleticism
atomism
atonalism
atropism
atticism
autecism
authoritarianism
autism
autoecism
autoeroticism
autoerotism
automatism
automorphism
baalism
baptism
barbarianism
barbarism
behaviorism
biblicism
bibliophilism
bicameralism
biculturalism
bidialectalism
bilateralism
bilingualism
bimetallism
biologism
bioregionalism
bipartisanism
bipedalism
biracialism
blackguardism
bogyism
bohemianism
bolshevism
boosterism
bossism
botulism
bourbonism
boyarism
bromism
brutism
bruxism
bureaucratism
cabalism
caciquism
cambism
cannibalism
capitalism
careerism
casteism
catabolism
catastrophism
catechism
cavalierism
centralism
centrism
ceremonialism
charism
charlatanism
chauvinism
chemism
chemotropism
chimaerism
chimerism
chrism
chromaticism
cicisbeism
cinchonism
civicism
civism
classicism
classism
clericalism
clonism
cockneyism
collaborationism
collectivism
colloquialism
colonialism
colorism
commensalism
commercialism
communalism
communism
communitarianism
conceptualism
concretism
confessionalism
conformism
congregationalism
connubialism
conservatism
constitutionalism
constructivism
consumerism
controversialism
conventionalism
corporatism
corporativism
cosmism
cosmopolitanism
cosmopolitism
countercriticism
counterculturalism
counterterrorism
creationism
credentialism
cretinism
criticism
cronyism
cryptorchidism
cryptorchism
cubism
cultism
cynicism
czarism
dadaism
dandyism
defeatism
deism
demonism
denominationalism
despotism
determinism
deviationism
diabolism
diamagnetism
May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 12:16 PM UTC
is it winter where you are?
no snow
or blizzards, just
chill fog
and frost.
the winter of a city
that gave up long ago.
--------------------------------
winter seems to follow you.
damp grey mornings
skulking at your feet like a beaten dog.
whimpering in mist
and growling in
weak thunderstorms
that can't quite wash away the clouds.
kick december in the ribs
because you know it will always come back
to sleep at your feet.
winter seems to follow you
but
i could be wrong.
--------------------------
i know all about stormchasers
but you're so much
sadder
than that
[pathetic like a beaten dog]
not chasing death
or danger
just defeatism.
chasing defeat and hopelessness
and grass-made-glass
by the frost of the night before.
---------------------
is it winter where you are?
is december shivering at your door?
in my room it is fall,
and all the rotting leaves
remind me of you.
------------------------
is it winter where you are?
you've evaded the summer all your life
hot air
and sun
killing the clouds.
the indian summer will catch up with you
and september
will melt you
through.
pathetic puddle of defeatism.
aggregated mist
and fog
like a beaten dog,
sinking into the deepest blues
and grays
but oh
you were always
the patron saint of denial.
------------------------------
rip me apart like the letters you never sent
postmarked 'tomorrow, tomorrow'-
but tomorrow never came.
[it's hard to tell dawn from dusk
when the sky is always
gray.]
runaway notes from a foreign season.
rip me apart and i won't think of you anymore.
rip me apart
and all your apologies,
condolences
and accusations
will be scraps of paper under dry leaves.
-----------------------------------
*i'm tired of following my dreams
when they just lead me off the cliffs.*
you follow winter into the sea
and drown a whimpering dog.
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 5:53 PM UTC
a solider and a sailor
sing a lonesome song just for your entertainment
but in it you are betrayed by visions of heaven
shine with the late night ribald drinkers
after all after a few bottles even mortality seems lively
disjointedly you pick your way
through all these salvation's
never quite believing that you could exceed
your worth and standing
after all you can buy a new life for dirt cheap
long as your willing to give up your lifestyle
long as your willing to be disarmed
of all those quick witted answers you think fit so well
and give up all her peek-a-boo paradise's
the solider and sailor buy a round
and toasting the queen they bury the hatchet
no expectations can lead you on to the
brink of such strange bedfellows but you'll try
you can only hope not to be a victim of such defeatism
when all the ribald drinkers have left the saloon
walking in the thin light of dawn
you will remember all these beautiful things
and dream better dreams
build better sunrises from the gloom of days ending
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
I closed my eyes
And here she came back again.
In a dark corner all alone
With her pale face,
Looking so depressed and so exhausted.
I’ve seen her crying,
Shedding black tears like the color of her dress.
Begging for company,
But there’s no one to be found.
She suffers from loneliness, swallowing the pain.
Telling her secrets to her heart and locks it in.
She lives miserably,
Waiting for the bright light,
That comes from so far away.
The light that may resurrect hope inside of her.
But all she finds is merciless defeatism.
She rose up quickly;
I think she has changed her mind.
She just decided to let go
Let go of her dark thoughts,
Let go of the gloomy world she used to live in,
Let go of the past and welcome the future.
I closed my eyes the day after,
I’ve seen her once again,
But this time she’s better.
She draws a cheerful smile in her face,
Wearing a wonderful white dress.
Running in the fields happily.
She’s doing nicely,
enjoying every moment in her life.
she waved for me,
then she started to fade away.
I tried to close my eyes everyday
In order to see her and say good-bye
But she was already gone!!
http://www.writemania.net/the-girl/
Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 11:31 AM UTC
The eyes are a pair of globular organs of sight in the head of humans and vertebrate animals
Or are the eyes the window to the conscious soul?
They call me the Devil’s Advocate
Traditionally on the left side of your shoulder, purring that dead angels lie too
The lost pulse has been cause to abacinate
The light is blinding but you descry right through its laments, where the fleeting hope sings a tune that quavers as classical
The light is blinding but so is the crepuscular, encapsulated in a vessel of defeatism, powerless to shift my sole.
Your shut asymmetrical globes are created boundless by all existing matter that make them a home.
A Molotov cocktail in the shape of a hollow ***** reminiscent of wartimes and tearing without the gas
I choke on the smoke rings of the lit wick and I’m reminded that I hate going in circles and around
But they are also vessels of protection, a place for kumbaya’s around the fire where time is used to back-track
The deepest longings and recollection in my Purple Heart cannot be explained by how it beats 115,000 times each day
To hell with the sorry excuses and fleeting ideas of the Beaujolais
The soul is the spiritual or immaterial part of a human being or animal, regarded as immortal.
Let your spirit descend into you again, fill your body like the dripping of Adam’s Ale from broken pipes
Yes, they are cracked, but your chest is not a bird’s nest in December
They are reminiscent of, but are not the promises your teenage self-made to your mother, saying, “I’ll be home by eight”.
Press your hands to the aviary your beating heart has been trying to escape, touch it softly, and this will be the first time in years you've been kind to the keeper of the grey
Glaze into the looking glass and hold your fists back, let go of the sharpness of your words and risk forgetting yourself
End the match that pinpricked the flame of hatred, and bleed out the blue and black of yesterday.
They call me the Devil’s Advocate,
You hang from the trees, but I don’t believe in gravity.
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
Back to bed again
Ive paid my dues
Waited countless hours in this
Half state
To ascend to higher realms
Yet i remain wide eyed
And worried
Counter parts ive wished to cast out
But havent found out how
push defeatism aside
Horizons rise
And set in these moments
While i convince myself
Who's body
I belong to
Out of the distance
Whispers slither in
Saying
"Forget what you know"
Jun 25, 2016
Jun 25, 2016 at 2:29 PM UTC
I’m a member of so many 21st counter cultures
Of which there are so many we are rendered meaningless
Wait, that’s not right, let me try again
“I choose to ignore this. Cabin in the Woods” He says, The Ostrich Method, head in the sand
And we’re running out of beer, I’m sobering up,
Or rather it was a sobering moment
Just more ammo for these moralists
“Ohh, you’re a drain on society” – buzzkillers the lot of ‘em
Probably religiouses with their ‘God’ and whatnot
“Thou shalt not get ********* or whatever, I dunno I’ve never read that thing
Meanwhile cook talk is running through my head “I’m pretty sure I’m dying” I tell him
Passive aggressive. ****** Isolated, negative worldview
Defeatism exemplified, the most educated generation ******* in the snow
Ya, I know. We’re entitled but they sold us a false reality
We can’t be anything we want, Jack, that’s a fallacy
“But He’s alright” he tells her. I guess they’d been ******** on men
I wanted no part of it – washed my hands of the whole affair
Focusing instead on scotch and rapidly disappearing ice
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
A lost ship. A broken heart.
Sailing towards the isle of salvation.
Ripples in tired streams. An ache in the heart.
Waiting for the moonlight to absorb its stagnation.
Sky remains unfathomed, but roads went adrift.
An asphyxiating voice tries to make the last call.
A lost ship. A broken heart.
Tries to touch the waves with its entrancing touch.
Nobody heard the lost bird. Nobody saw the distressed eyes.
River flowed away from the eyes of a dreamer.
Storm approaches and stuns the existence of cynics.
Defeatism evaporates from the broken pieces of a pessimist's heart.
Clouds shrink and wars end and world survives.
A lost ship. A broken heart.
An abandoned port. A numb body.
Silence creates an empire of lost voices.
Days end, nights end, life begins to wonder.
Light comes, darkness comes, blinding the eyes.
A ship left. The lost ship.
Heart sinks. Along with the lost ship.
Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 2:39 PM UTC
Every new canvas or wood I begin, starts with a mental insult, turning into a dark alley street fight. All found objects are used as weapons.
Before my image, color, category, or medium is even applied. I somehow discredit or abuse the medium through extrasensory transference or ***** looks. Or am accused of it. After that, the cloth is unforgiving and taunting. And from there, I can not be placated and must defend myself.
Slights and wounds and offensive disrespects are hurled at me in hopes of defeatism and scarring. And my retaliation is never ready. I slink out into a restless sleep and awkward day, clearing my head, deep thinking and do research for inspiration on fighting a wooden bully. The resurfacing of my retribution comes firing back with thought and truth and defense, until my opponent has heard all it will hear and dares me.
From there I take battle in slinging and taping and throwing off-color remarks at this ***** for what seems like days, until I find the weak spot. And then, just pummel. Continue and repeat with a variety of similar strokes. This is when it gets worn out and I can see progress.
Like a beam of golden light. The pressure to finally usurp and overthrow all that has distracted me, is rolled out like a red carpet until the throne is visible. With violent blacks slung up top and lower, all flavors of blue bashed in the ribcage, muddy brown and ash around the knees and lower. And all over, a melting custard of crimson red drips erratic around this terrorizing yet pleading to just finish off this piece of wood or cloth. Covered in a multitude of cheap shots, unprofessional swatches, gorgeous strokes, and derivatives, we wipe the dust and tears and blood from our eyes and finally my opponent yields, and I am congratulated on another battle well fought.
"You don't always win", the board transfers
"Many have been left undefeated and unfinshed, stay humble you're learning wisdom and patience"
These words ring with echoing sound. On my walk home, my painted and smeared, ripped body and mind contemplative of all lessons and struggles, I long to tell Annie about the war I just had.
Will she listen...?
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 8:37 PM UTC
Psyche soaking wet with devout atheism,
this lifetime skeptic now tenuously
linkedin with Unitarianism
attests, said upbringing proffered,
mine credo, gestalt,
leitmotif, sans abstractionism
eludes elucidation, delineation, clarification...
some readers might
dismiss as absurdism
defying established dogma fixed absolutism
millenniums, would be hashtagged heretical,
and such cavalier blithe
apostasy, declared alarmism,
now - twenty first century
extant accursed as alcoholism
within various non
Western statecraft enclaves,
barely tolerating agnosticism
no fool to *********
proclamations antithetical opinionism
where condemnation to death
(I obediently, humbly, and gladly accept)
inadequate punishment,
cited on par relegated to alienism,
amoralism, antiestablishmentarianism...
never does this anachronism
loosely cabled with pioneerism,
(when ****** forests bedecked America),
a veritable wilderness, necessitated
quintessential self survivalism
knowhow long since forgot,
which dependence on consumerism
finds yours truly afflicted against capitalism
commercialism, conformism, cultism et cetera
more aligned with reliance on individualism
nearly an extinct species,
where anti materialism
betrays, cavils, and discourages ecocentrism,
versus profit motive maximization,
though of late environmental dynamism
aggressive representative thank you
Greta Ernman Thunberg regarding criticism,
nee opprobrious global ecological terrorism
mandating staunch defeatism
as stave bulwark
against criminal determinism
to wreak irrevocable traitorous dogmatism
predicated on tenets of egocentrism
brewed, steeped, and
galvanized in exceptionalism
of **** sapiens and expansionism
exclusive to said primate
that requires serious assessment,
asper bracketing craven
doctrinairism edified fundamentalism
granting humans unfettered expansionism!
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 3:52 PM UTC
Grant me witnessing all ‘round I go
Let me be uncomfortable
In my sadness
In my spite
In my veins our ancestors’ strife
Their oppression chiseled in depths
Of my subconscious—mayn’t I forget
In my every privileged sigh
In every nightmare’s death
And all of my trivial achievement
That their blood inks this gazette
That my soul echoes their last breath
For justice—mayn’t I
Move idly and yield
To transient relief
To false gods
To defeatism
That my heart numbs
To the cries of my people
To the destruction of our homes
To the monarchy of traitors
Let me hear it everywhere I go
Let me be uncomfortable
Sep 22, 2021
Sep 22, 2021 at 10:06 PM UTC
First by reflection.^^^^
I've detected^^^^. My deepest weakness.))))
It's a beastly need.
For love. Its unrequited. Leads ta grief))))
And.
Second by devotion.
I've relieved ))my need)) to meet)) my needs))
Through other human beings.))
I've maintained that unwanted inner feelings)))
Are the map that drives my demons))
So I've ceased to feed the))
Devils that lay dreaming in my
Rhyme and reason)))
3rd by living in the moment
I've come to appreciate. My inner being****
As a temple. That is the centerpiece
To my inner chi.***
And through it bend my energy.****
To raise stones from.
Mental defeatism***
And raise courage
From a tiny beast
That symbolizes freedom)))
Jul 3, 2019
Jul 3, 2019 at 4:30 AM UTC
Europa’s Struggle (new version)
Like life wars go on and on, it is in our genes under layers of prattle there is a murderer
who wants to **** the different what we do not understand and loathe .
This influx of a foreign culture has demanded too much of our self- preservation as a race.
Destroy them now!
We tolerate crime in our society but what we read is crime committed by people
we have given succour we baulk somehow they should not be criminals.
They hate our way of life we call Christianity that now is a liberal culture that blathers
about forgiveness. They came to us because we could not let them starve it was our duty
but we do we feel our duty as a burden.
If we follow the call of our ethnicity should we not stop them coming into our life
making us think about if our values are ossified that we should give up without
a fight and let Europe be a sect for whom death is glorious.
I don't know; I'm old I will not live in the new Europa will it bring peace, no,
our genes, screams for war by people who are backwards in time and only know
old hatred for whom progress is not a teaching approved by their book and music
is a call from an elegant tower Not to forget their cousins who worship Mammon
and will go to any length to satisfy their blood lust, immoral, greedy and try to enslave
us with their slimy *********** and a main- press printed by bought editors and
sycophantic journalists. When those in the name of another faith vandalise Louvre or
places of beauty will we find our strength and push them back as we did before.
We cast these negative thought away we are mensch we help the less fortunate and
Above all fight fascism and defeatism in equal measure.
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 11:11 AM UTC
I never grew up with a father or clear dark skin;
I never held a knife to rend and curve out the insecurity and fear growing on my back;
I never had the chance to see nature bloom without constructs
Neither did I appreciate the finer things – To consider the details of
Relativity and beauty.
I never got to shed good blood when I fell.
Not transparent, not rich, not in known color;
I never had the opportunity to travel and escape discomfort
To hold so dearly the ones I love with tears
I never got the chance to speak of adventure
Just to walk briskly in the sun without ****** blisters at noon
I never got to appreciate myself as Created;
But now?
Now I have the chance to self- destruct.
I can now take off the shoes of defeatism and sit by the Riverside
I now have the chance to dip my feet in the revered waters of courage
I can now see the ripples of life as they soak up my skin
I can breathe, I can live
I can say,
The end bears regret;
Regarding the chances you didn’t take.
Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 7:15 AM UTC
Seeing red,
I follow the glow
Like a beacon in the distance,
True north to follow course
Through insipid suffering.
Smoke in my nose
Blackening my lungs
With armor forged from ash and ember,
The scent wakes me
Like epinephrine through asystole.
Rage rings my head like a bell,
Drawing me out of my corner.
I crave carnage,
Foaming at the mouth
In an empty ring,
A spectacle of desperation.
My senses all ablaze,
I feel I’ve earned the privilege
To bask in the exaltation
Of resonating wrath.
Finally indulging in justified indignation,
Giving myself a break
From despondent self-flagellation,
I am not ready to give up the pleasure
Of pulsating apoplexy.
I let fury singe away my pitiful defeatism,
My pathetic victimhood,
But I am warned
That while attempting to thaw
From hypothermic quadriplegia,
One may find the seduction of self-immolation
Too persuasive to deny.
But I know my limits,
I tell myself.
I’ll stop when I want to.
I’ll know when I’ve had enough.
I swear I will stay vigilant,
Taking my temperature,
Checking my pulse.
I will not let this righteous ire
Burn out of control.
Sep 19, 2024
Sep 19, 2024 at 11:24 PM UTC