"defines" poems
Oh beautiful for specious lies
where Christless values reign;
for superficial battle cries
above the muted strain:
Diversity, diversity
God hides His face from thee—
and frown he should, while planethood
distracts humanity.
How sad it is when victim groups
monopolize the floor;
enabling the marginals
to agitate for more.
Diversity, diversity,
Your queer agenda rules—
with Balkanizing tendencies
imposed on witless tools.
Degenerate in decadence
the ailing eagle flies;
in spirals of irrelevance
through clouded toxic skies…
Diversity, diversity
the Left defines your terms;
the weakened body politic
grows sicker as it squirms.
Oh Lord we need a miracle
before the patient fails;
celestial intervention please
to purge us of what ails.
Diversity, diversity
We shall not overcome—
Unless the Lord reveal His word
twixt here and Kingdom Come…
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
dissociation a curse
dissociation my enemy
enemy barges in
enemy takes control
control is crippling
control must go
go seek advise
go to friends
friends may ignore
friends may listen
listen to god
listen to nothing
nothing is something
nothing is numbing
numbing craves alcohol
numbing craves drugs
drugs are prescribed
drugs will fix
fix my brain
fix cracked mirrors
mirrors taunt me
mirrors tell lies
lies i tell
lies cover bruise
bruise my hand
bruise my brother
brother is silent
brother please forgive
forgive me father
forgive me mother
father please help
father is futile
futile defines me
futile invites suicide
suicide with pills
suicide i survived
survived from coma
survived in hospital
hospital is helpful
hospital gives answers
answers for family
answers to problems
problems with doctors
problems with diagnosis
diagnosis is discovered
diagnosis is depersonalization
depersonalization creates poet
depresonalization becomes mad
mad
poet
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
My country is an old book with a crumbly, dusty cover;
original and valuable
Like a book, you don't judge it by its cover.
What's inside it is what defines it.
Gently open it;
Read each word with heart,
Uncover its uniqueness
till it brings delight.
Find the book enjoying,
You'll never wish for it to end.
You'll read it one more time,
You'll show loftiness to it.
Oh, fellowmen, we're proud of our country
Even if we're not;
Our mouths say we are, but our hearts deny.
Oh beloved country,
We discerned ourselves
through judging you
because of our own fault.
© Frank Lloyd Manalang, 2014
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 5:10 AM UTC
Depression is hard to understand. The dictionary naively refers to it as, "feelings of severe despondency and dejection." But what does the dictionary know about depression? I think depression is more complicated than that. But I don't quite know what that consists of. I've been trying to figure it out for months now, and I just can't seem to understand. I don't know what depression is, but I can tell you what it's not.
Depression is not polite. Depression doesn't knock before he barges in. He just lets himself in, unannounced and unexpected, and leaves me gasping for what little air is left in the room.
Depression isn't clean. He doesn't tidy up after he makes a mess. He comes into my life like a hurricane, and leaves me to pick up the crumbled pieces of my rubbled life.
Depression isn't moral. He steals my happiness and kills my spirit. He doesn't abide by any common rules or laws, he makes his own rules and I have to play by them.
Depression isn't popular. The only "friends" he has are his victims. He drags me away from everyone who used to love me, and leaves me isolated in a cold, dark place.
Depression isn't respectful. He claws his way into the lives of so many genuine people and drives them to the brink of insanity. He has no regard for my thoughts or my feelings, stomping all over me until there's nothing decent left to salvage.
Depression isn't creative. He tells you everything as it is and makes you see all of the terrible things poisoning the world. He doesn't sugarcoat the truth, no matter how much it hurts, and he helped me clearly see even my smallest of flaws.
Depression isn't nice. He calls me ugly and tells me I'm worthless. The words he whispers ring in my ears: **** yourself, **** yourself, **** yourself."
It's hard to define depression. It doesn't fit into a small box. I've practically driven myself crazy trying to figure out what it is and why this is happening to me. I don't understand depression, and no matter how hard I try to define it, I always fall short. I don't know if depression can ever be defined. While I try aimlessly to define the undefinable, depression ruthlessly takes advantage of me. I can try as much as I'd like, but I don't define depression, depression defines me.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 7:05 PM UTC
Her presence cannot be denied,
She stands tall and strong with pride;
You cannot overlook her magnitude,
Because she has beauty with attitude;
What a woman,
What a woman indeed,
What a strong Black woman,
For her just even be.
She defines the essence of perfection,
In each notable fashion without exception;
Highly cognizant of her forefather and mothers,
Therefore she paves paths for so many others,
What a woman,
What a woman indeed,
What a strong Black woman,
Even for a crazy world to see.
Her smile is like heaven's gate open,
Bringing joy to all who are chosen;
A lady of strength beyond any measure,
And a heart too big for one person for treasure;
What a woman,
What a woman indeed,
What a strong Black woman,
Who wound up inspiring me.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 11:31 PM UTC
a cup of coffee
makes difference on
how you manage to make it
put your love into the cup of coffee
it makes it sweet
put a bit of hate and it becomes sour
every cup of coffee defines you and your personality
the way i make my coffee maybe different for you
but the coffee beans, the the milk, the way i make is same as you
but the chances of making the same coffee as i make is a zero because
every style, every cup makes a difference
every smell of the coffee,the style,the amount you put
everything is different
but you never realize the fact that
the cup of coffee
is
the same cup of coffee
whether you add something or remove
it remains the same cup of coffee
you never know how hard it is to make a cup of coffee
and yet you bark about it being bad
because you never seem to understand their people's hardwork
unless you feel it
even if its a cup of coffee
you enjoy it with a passionate love and care
HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR CUP OF COFFEE
because it's the same cup of coffee
that has been made by a diligent hardworker
putting his love and affection to his work
the very same coffee beans
that has been farmed by a diligent hardworking farmer
the very same milk that has been brought to you by hardworking milkman
you never cease to understand
how hard it is to make a cup of coffee with a smiley on it
because you never tried that
but but but you will still bark about it
even if its your fault
even if you know that
you should've hold the cup firmness
you understand everything once,
you throw your selfishness and
wait to admire the hard work ,the love,affection,the care that one cup of coffee brings you
and you realize that
a cup of coffee is not a cup of coffee
it's a world on how you decide to see it
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 1:55 PM UTC
Do You Ever Find … ?
That Words Sometimes …
KEEP On … " Runnin' " …
Through Your Mind … ?!?
Sometimes ...
My Rhymes And Words Are …
...... STUNNING ….. !!!!!
These Days I Find My Word Designs …
Refine And Dine Just Like FINE Wine … !!!
So Here's A Few To Give You … " Clues " ...
of Some of The Ways My Wordplay Moves …
Wordplay … ?
Just … RIDICULOUS … !!!
Volume … ?
Straight Up … INFINITE … !!!
Inception Is … " Synonymous " …
With BIG VIRGE The … EPONYMOUS … !!!!!
Conception …
NOT …. " Inglorious " …. !!!!!
******* NOPE … ERRONEOUS … !!!!!
My Use of Verse Is … " GLORIOUS " … !!!!!
In Fact It's … " MERITORIOUS " . !!!!!!!
Because It's TIGHT NOT Porous ….
Chorus … NO … !!!
Because It Flows …
And Has NO PLACE In …
... " Talent Shows " … !!!!!
TALENT ... ???
Whoooooaaaaa You'd Better KNOW … !!!!!
What I Construct May One Day BLOW … !!!
A Hole In ALL These Shows For … " Ho's " … !!!!!
Prostitution …. NO …. !!!
NOT How I Roll … !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Talking of THOSE …
NO TIME For Coc’ … !!!
Or Yes … ******* … !!!
Because My Nose ...
Does NOT House Notes … !!!!!
Where AIR Should Flow … !!!!!
FLOWS … ?!?
I Got …Those … !!!
QUOTES That Rock Boats … !!!
Races Places So Many Faces …
Sometimes My Mind ...
DEFINES … INVASIVE …
WAIT ..................................................................... !!!
I'm Just PLAYING And Relaying ...
Words of Verse …
From The Thoughts of …
….. " Big Virge " ….. !!!
My Head … ???
It HURTS ... Just Like My Arm … !!!
Because I Write …
Like Those Who Fight …
And Wear The Garms' …
of Those Who Choose To ...
YES … " Bear Arms " … ?!?
Violent … NAH … !?!
Big Virge Is …
….. Calm ….............................................................
I'd Rather Charm …
But PLEASE BE SMART … !!!
Before My Words …
Get In Your ... " CLAAT " … !!!
Or Your …... " RASSHOLE' " ….. !!!
Am I Bajan … ???
NO ... But Here's The Quote …
I'm … ENGLISH Born …
So Know of Their Scorn … !!!!!
But Am Now REBORN … !!!
With … CARIBBEAN Views …
Just Down The Road …
From My NEW Bedroom … !!!!!
On BAJAN' Shores …. !!!
NOT Cold But WARM … !!!
I'm HAPPIER NOW … !!!
That I Have FOUND …
A Place For Myself …
On My Parents' Ground … !!!!!
Africa Next … ?
Well … More or Less …
So MUCH of This WORLD … !!!!!
I Haven't Seen … YET … ?!?
Girls … ?!?!?
That's Where This Poem ENDS.
SO MANY Look FINE But I Just Can't find …
One Whose Down To … " Fool Around " … !!!!!
With The Man … Big Virge ...
... " The Connoisseur of Spoken Words " ...
I Guess That's Why … ?
I Write These Rhymes …
And Put In Verse …
Words That … " Traverse " …
That I NOW FIND …
" Run Through My Mind " …..
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 4:32 PM UTC
darkness under light
defines the contours of space
shadow deepens shine
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 2:22 PM UTC
Society sells beautiful lies,
Emphasis on the beautiful,
They sell you the definition of beauty in
small pictures,
small ads,
small sizes.
Spinning the world on a string,
They've got us all fooled.
Telling teens they don't need to eat,
"Skip the food today,
be beautiful tomorrow".
Selling the idea that beauty can replace sorrows.
Society sells the idea that beauty is empowerment.
Society sells the idea that if you are beautiful,
then you could have the world on a string.
These lies lead our leaders of tomorrow into disarray.
Sell us the idea that if we are beautiful
today will be better than yesterday.
But the empty promises lead us all astray,
Abandoned on street corners begging for scraps,
because we didn't think we felt empowerment.
Society sells small,
Society sells beauty,
Society sells small.
Small models,
Small manikins,
Small sizes.
Spinning the world on a string,
Society sells the idea that the size of your waist,
defines how beautiful you are.
Society sells the idea that beauty
is empowerment.
Society sells small.
Society sells the idea that if you are not small,
you are not **empowered,
ugly,
waste of space.**
Society sells small.
Society says beauty is empowerment.
These lies lead our leaders of tomorrow into disarray,
Too many teens today are to prone to facings their problems with razor blades,
Because today was not better than yesterday.
Then tomorrow won't be either.
Society sells small,
small pictures,
small ads,
small manikins.
Society sells protruding plastic ribs,
ribs sharp enough to cut paper.
Society sells the figures of the sick and dying.
Society sells small.
Small enough to be drop dead gorgeous,
Emphasis on the drop dead,
Society sells women who are severely underfed.
Society sells women suffering from malnutrition.
Since when did this become tradition?
Since when was fragile stature empowering?
Society sells skin and bones.
Society sells so small,
women are literally dying to feel beautiful.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
I do not identify myself as a black american
I do not identify myself as an activist
I do not identify myself
As anything other than what I am
Do not arbitrate my existence
It will only magnify your bigotry
Do not lecture me
It will not ratify your ministry
Do not objectify my identity
Do not marginalize my sincerity
I know your criticism
It will not dwindle me
I am defiantly deaf to it
It will not compute
Trust me
It will only intensify
What I occupy
Do not subject me to anomaly
Do not try and direct me
I will not comply
Do not concern yourself
with my essentiality
I am not lost
Do not concern yourself
With what defines me
Just ask
If I am willing and able.
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 5:03 PM UTC
You asked me to put on some makeup.
Well, dear.
I would need too much makeup,
to cover my scowls,
and this ugly thing I call
a face.
There would never be enough makeup
to cover up my scarred heart
and attempt to make it look whole and pretty.
There would never be enough makeup
to cover my sarcastic and strange humor,
make myself sound smart, pretty, cute.
There would never be enough makeup
to cover my soul,
make it seem pure,
innocent - the way you want me to be...
I've been exposed for too long,
too many burns, and scars race across me,
everywhere,
too noticeable, too many
for me to ever use makeup.
Makeup will never make me look pretty.
It will disfigure all that I have,
take away the stories that are etched onto me,
it will cover what defines
me.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
A constant is control
Your every surrounding contains a constant
Constantly ever changing
in what ways are we shaped by our own constant?
Our society?
How does it mold our perception?
it is but a constant
I am who I am
I can only hope that
creativity defines me
As my flaws weave through each definitive line of my life
And My colors define me with each shade of its own
It was once spoken that
“Imagination was greater than knowledge”
Because It is all its own.
Creativity is freedom 🖤
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC
A blank page waits for words that it will never see
Created from the head of someone writing a story
Characters, plot, setting, theme, are central to the tale
Without them every narrative is simply guaranteed to fail
Stakes and consequences must exist for someone to pursue
Whether treacherous of heart, or noble, brave, and true
And if these traits stand not alone but mixed in with the rest
That simply adds more intrigue to the outcome of the test
Will he get the girl? Will she rise above her station?
Can a rags-to-riches fable captivate the nation?
Who done it, where and why? Are three questions most effective
But often ****** requires the help of a detective
These may seem like idle, fragmented bits of a much larger whole
But actually they’re not; every type plays a role
For you see, “someone” mentioned above is not a professional writer
But an individual on a journey, and we all must face it like a fighter
Characters are those you know and love, plot is what you choose to do
Setting is where you live, theme defines what is important to you
So why a fighter you may ask, someone who faces pain and strife?
Because we encounter both good and ill as we write our book of life
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 6:03 PM UTC
What's my worth?
Am I worth a second glance?
Till present, from birth
Am I deserving of chance?
What's my value?
Am I worth time spent?
What did I do?
Did I squander the life lent?
What are my virtues?
Do they even shine through?
Do I put them to good use?
Or useless like a pair less shoe?
What defines me?
Is it the words that write?
Or work I do diligently?
Could it be my punches in a fight?
What have I done?
Take your time to think
Did I do it with a loaded gun?
Must've done something; must've missed the link
What am I good for?
Important work or menial labour
Could have I done more?
Achieved alone or together
Do I think differently?
Indulge in fairytale notions
Is it sheer folly?
To believe in magic potions
Am I just silly?
Do I dream too much?
Accept reality
Am I capable of such?
Do I shirk what I carry?
Should I have said no?
Did I delay and tarry?
Have I nothing to show?
Am I wrong to feel?
Is it foolish to want?
When it all is real
Now bearing the brunt
Do I wear you weary?
With my endless stupor
Why can't I bury?
Before we expire
Why do I wallow?
Wading through eye puddles
Should I just burrow?
Deep into these riddles
Why do I falter?
Why can't I heal and rise?
Why do I break and shatter?
How do I stop my eyes?
What is this dense forest?
Must everything be obscure?
Can I not be honest?
Can I not be insecure?
Could I be any more random?
Asking as they come to mind
Have I compromised my decorum?
Have I been blind?
Should I delve even deeper?
May I go on and ask?
Am I worthy of an answer?
Or should I just don my mask?
Gargantuan was my crime
Thick was its girth
Absolution this time?
Of it am I worth?
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
Yes I have a disability
Special needs
I don't let my disability
Rule my life I might have
A disability but it doesn't
Defines me because it is
Not what I am as a person
I have a disability but I am
Humans too I get sad and
Mad too I can be mad at
God but I not mad at god
Because he creates people
With disabilities to teach others
You do have to be perfect because
The way you are is perfect to god
Yes I am a child of god people with
Disabilities are gifts from god I am
I fine that I am different because
Everyone is different and unique
In there own way on ones are the
Same because that how god want
It because he see everyone as beautiful
And he love everyone unconditionally
I am blessed to have a good friends and family
In my life and I am believe in god ours savior
© Amanda Kay Hill
1/22/17
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 2:13 AM UTC
Defeating the power of pain by resilience,
and defining themselves
by the number of times they
get back up ,
they are making a head towards
cherishing the every moment
they still have in their own life.
Mistaken for being numb,
They not even feel
the intensity of pain
that comes with life,
Socially detached ,
they feel nothing .
Oh but they do feel something ,
In fact they feel everything,
The feeling of loss ,
disappointments and regrets
with heavy heart .
But the power of resilience
does not let their pain to define them ,
Instead it defines their tenacity and strength !
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 8:12 AM UTC
i
you say i am honestly not the same person
i say one day i woke up honest
and i do not know how to undo experience
my own eyes and ears and nose and mouth
cannot be undone at the moment
how do you do it?
push that pressure to the back of your mind
like that
how do you all manage to laugh with a straight face
at things that you know aren't really funny
i can't fathom it. where you go
when you are stomping and ripping
and ****** and jeering
and laughing and running
it's exhausting to watch you
ii
i apologize if it doesn't make sense
that i can't play along
but playing along
doesn't make sense
i could never win a grammy
with this tight lipped smile
laughing at the expense of others
makes me feel more like a paparazzi
placating insecurities for currency
leeching off the vulnerability
you may not think i'm smart but
i am smart enough to know this is not 'normal'
and there is nothing wrong with staring at you in the rearview
and saying "i wish that was really sarcasm"
i'll tell you the truth
and you don't have to like it
and you don't have to like me
and i don't have to like you
because if there's one thing i know about myself
it's that i don't dislike anybody
until they show off their callousness
hoping it's the right party trick
to gain respect
iii
we watch comedy tv, and you are worried
by the way my spine cracks
when i let out a uncontrollable laugh
dragging on, beginning to spill, and as i try to quell it
my whole body shakes with the pressure
of it bubbling inside of me
you feel all of this beside of me
a small volcano with a bent back
quaking absorbed by pillows and flowers and cushions
not quite right for you
wondering why i couldn't laugh like this earlier
when we were not alone
everyone is looking for something more porous
more willing to let in effortlessly
and absorb tirelessly
that can simply laugh like a stream bubbles
and let go of the undercurrent
yet we are sharp and uneven and course like logs
and the weight of our actions carries much further
being shunted downstream by tides of gravity
every intention runs it's course
every intention speaks volumes
if you feel that in your core
every day you will uncontrollably think of how
every intention defines the quality of the laughter
stuck in someone else's head
and you will save it for things that are funny
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is not a poem. This is about a poem.
Poems require words. This poem does not require words.
This poem requires memories' muscles.
This poem requires what is called colloquially love.
Learn that what we share here is not poetry.
Your poetic senses that produce the words that mark you present
are but surgical tools to extract, release the whole and the parts of you that help shape that single sense borning in your chest that defines you at any particular moment.
Quæ est mater Laureat.
She is the Mother Laureate.
She is the boundary you must learn to cross to be more than a re-arranger of letters and alphabets, but a translator of the human essence and fill our veins with the a sense of awe and wonder felt when we read each other and think aloud,
"yes, exactly, that was and is precisely what I was feeling."
She is the glue that keeps us sticking here, sticking together, each of us sticking to it.
You do not know her?
No worries, she will find you when you least expect it, perhaps
when you need it.
This is not a poem. This is a human who's a poem.
Understand the difference and then you may begin a journey
that has no destination other than weaving the connective tissue that makes us anticipating excited when we log on.
Happy Birthday Mother Poet Laureate!
I do not think I can write a better not poem for you.
Forgive me then, if going toward, I repost this every
October 24th as long as the chemical composition of
blood, God, spirit, logos or reason runs free within,
exiting as words encased in tears that formulate into
human poetry.
nattyman
P.S.There are 800 poems here with Sally in the title, and least 700 are about Sally B. If you like, please feel to free to add yours, old or new.
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 12:42 PM UTC
Searching your mind,
Revealing your soul.
A piece of my mind,
Making you whole.
The depths of your feelings,
Defines the depths I will go.
I know what I know,
Time for me to show,
How well though.
Like never before,
Here I go.
Persuading your body,
In so many ways,
You're powerless to evade,
The prowess of my ways.
Caressing your tenderness.
These moments your memory will replay;
Haunting parts of your body in a special way.
Reminiscent of this very day,
Our parts bonding as we lay.
Still influenced in ways you can't see,
Rather feel, so its as real as can be.
These unique pleasures bestowed upon you,
Impaling your reality with my point of view.
This abundance of energy; this vitality.
A reflection of you and me.
Enticing you mentally,
controlling you physically,
releasing you and me chemically.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
Though the lotus shares a bond
With the muddy and murky pond,
Yet lotus is holy and precious,
As our birth never defines us.
What we make out of ourselves is vital,
Only that aspect is important and crucial.
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 9:38 PM UTC
A ball player and a thief
Will likely be pregnant by age 16.
Lives in the ghetto and is poor,
Often identified as a *****
Runs fast and does drugs,
Hangs around with gangsters and thugs.
Has a gun or a friend with one.
Speaks in slang, must be part of a gang.
Mess with her, she'll pull a Sharkeisha on you.
If you were to picture a person of any race,
That fits the description that just took place.
A baller and **** hmm... what race matches that?
Yeah you're right, that person is probably black.
Is fast, does drugs, and speaks with slang?
Lemme guess, is he also in a gang?
A young mother who is also poor?
Bet she doesn't know who the dad is, what a *****
All these negative stereotypes associated with being black.
Its disheartening, sicking and its really sad.
And whats sadder is that if you are the opposite of all of that,
You are often told that you're not really black.
Does your skin colour change for going to Harvard?
Will it change for speaking like an English scholar?
Because I play hockey and not ball, does that make me white?
So what if I'm the type of person to run away from a fight?
You don't have to be irresponsible and rude to be considered black.
It's your ethnic background that determines that.
And to some people, all we are is the complexion of our face.
Light, dark, somewhere in the middle, to some, the bad of a few defines
our whole race.
Does running away from a cop, and being black give someone grounds to shoot?
Why is it that my skin color is what is most important to you?
Is asking a question when getting arrested for no visible reason really resisting arrest?
Does struggling to break free from restraints to catch my breath, give someone a reason to grab on tighter to strangle me to death?
The actions of a few don't define the actions of a whole group.
And this assumption that all black are thugs, thieves and liars has done clear damage to,
Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin and so many more.
They didn't know it, but just by being black, they put their lives at risk when they stepped out their door.
Don't you think it's gotten too far when we have to prove Black Lives Matter, or when we the saying of a movement is Hands Up, Don't Shoot.
Should people have to be reminded that blacks are real people and that our lives matter too?
We are athletes and musicians.
Lawyers and physicians.
The leader of a nation.
An anchorman of a news station.
We don't all fit into that mold that is preset for us.
You can and should expect great things of us.
Because we don't have to be a **** or a baller to be considered black.
We define what type of black person we are, we determine that.
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
Was it an illusion?
Words that trigger an attraction
A reply that lays a connection
Was it an illusion?
A look that exposes a sensation
A whisper that defines an emotion
Was it an illusion?
A touch that pushes a button
A kiss that captures a moment
Is it an illusion?
To transform words into reality
To turn moments into eternity
It is an illusion
When words are lost in silence
When affection is met with fear
When All is subsumed in memories
Whilst memories may fade
The illusion remains
We hope for those moments again
Poets love the illusion
Though Cynics judge us weak
We shall silence their mocking speak
Thank goodness for poets
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 7:09 AM UTC
Why I Always Carry Tissues
To My Children:
I'm laughing at myself,
As I am prone to do because
Why I Always Carry Tissues
Is the title of a poem
I write for you.
There is a story here,
Of parenting, and responsibilties
That transcends yourself, defines me,
Vis-a-vis you,
then and there, and maybe now.
When you were small,
I took you by the hand,
The cement canyons, trails & rivers
of West Eighty Six Street,
Together, we would ford.
Periodically, as Fathers are prone to do,
Your hand, from my hand,
I would release
So you could fall down,
All on your own.
It bemused me that I could see
Three or four paces ahead of thee
Exactly which crack,
Upon which you would trip,
And come crying back to me.
Back-to-me.
That was then.
And now,
Yes, no more,
Back-to-me.
But I always had tissues
to dry your eyes
And no surprise,
I still do,
Always will.
These days, they,
more likely used to dry mine,
As I have forded that Styxy river,
When crossed, you spend more of the day,
Liking Back more,
Then looking ahead.
No matter, by right and tradition,
It is still my mission, that
when you need, when you bleed,
as I know you surely shall,
These pocket tissues will be there
Ready, willing and able, fully capable,
of snatching away your tears.
**When you need,
When you bleed,
And you surely shall,
These pockets of mine,
Of tissue made,
Are waiting for your tears,
And you, to fill them,
For without them,
Their raison d'etre is unfulfilled.**
These used tissues are my history book,
Re the art of loving, and the arch-i-texture of life,
Of tears and hearts,
And concrete spills,
That need knees to be complete.
That is why you will find me, without fail,
Ready, willing and able, holding my
White Badge of Courage at the ready,
Waiting patiently, for my mission to be redeemed,
Missions known as parenting schemes.
The scheme is clear, even if
my tissues you no longer request,
You will let your own babies
fall n' fail, then take their tears
Put them in your pocket,
keep them forever wet,
Like my memories of you
the ones I cherish best...
Perhaps a tradition
We will start,
Unsightly bulges in our pocket rear,
Where we will store our packet of saver-saviors
Removers of our dear one's fears.
If we are truly wise
Those tissued memories
We will keep,
Die among them contented,
Knee-scraped deep
When tears fall...
2008
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 9:09 AM UTC
language warning
So what.
I am a person, with hobbies
Interests
We need labels to understand, but I don't remember anything about labels to discriminate.
How can a feminist be racist? Or any other paradox
They are just labels- to explain and no more. **** all of those ********
So... I'm bisexual
Shock!
Horror!
Nothing more anymore
Identity limited- Why the **** should it be?
To say that just one of my labels defines me, it makes me inferior- well that makes you as a ****
The Jewish labelled with their numbers- me with a word- do you see what you do to me
And to yourself.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 1:27 PM UTC