"delinquency" poems
Shopping outfashioned hunting and gathering,
Processed beats fresh,
Groceries replaced fruit trees,
Malls superceded forests,
Churches outnumbered temples,
Countries dissolved to territories,
Places devolved to areas,
Paths broke down into highways,
Commodity converted to currency,
Laborers submit to machinery,
Masters engage in humbug,
Apprentices reduced to students,
Knowledge downgraded to education,
And education is deducted to a show of grades,
While schools are the stages,
And the corporate world is the bigger runway,
With work slumped to employment,
Wisdom demoted to profession,
Where in jobs are the only future,
Careers are the only success,
Clicking and pressing buttons are skills,
Computers are correspondent to brains,
Information refers to news reports,
Intelligence means up-to-dateness,
Browsing is preferable to reading,
Studying is in demand more than learning,
Viewing things flashed on screens yields awareness,
Transportation is to traveling,
As buying is to the three basic needs,
And needs embody worldly possessions,
Worldly possessions define happiness,
Happiness is due to selfishness,
Selfishness is traced to the lack of love,
The lack of love draws from the lack of faith,
Because faith stands for religion,
And religion stands for membership,
Where politicians are the gods,
Celebrities are the preachers,
And the preachers are the enemies,
While networking is equal to friendship,
And connection equates to communication,
Experiences require photos,
Memories necessitate uploading,
Souvenirs can be downloaded,
Smartphones are substitute to pets,
Gadgets are toys,
Holding controllers is playing,
Watching TV is exploring the great outdoors,
Internet is recreation,
And technology is a way of life;
While humans are scientists,
Nature is a guinea pig,
And the earth is a laboratory,
Where prices are misidentified for worth,
Processes are miscalculated as progress,
Impoverishment is confused with improvement,
And getting more is mistaken as getting better;
And then we wonder why
Homes have become houses,
Family members have become boarders,
Nations are separate species
Composed of tired and hungry citizens,
Children are monsters
Who are biochemically rascals,
Teenagers are zombies
Whose adventures lead to delinquency,
Adults are robots
Who just clang when touched,
And life is not so simple
As how it is said to be.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 5:40 AM UTC
They say that the cities
Are paved with gold
That this is the land
Where dreams are made true
I'll tell you its where they are sold
Only the ruthless can afford
To rise to the top
The cities are nothing but cold
Homeless in doorways
And beggars on corners
A meagre minimum wage income
A damp house to welcome
Indirect subtle insults
Discrimination and accusation
Faulted into submission
One size fits all
Well it better fit you
Or you're just another number
Database, forms and paperwork
Lost in the system
Nine to five
Or the underworld shift
Borrow from Peter to give to Paul
Man made traps
Crime is always at an all time high
Theft, **** fraud, ******
Delinquency
Occurring frequently
I read the news
And it starts my day off miserably
Concrete jungle
Where have you gone simple things
If you have a minute
Tell me about the other side
The place I want to go
Acres of playground fun
I want to hear about the trees
The earth beneath your feet
Do you sit by the river
And feel complete
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 5:46 PM UTC
I got an award
For being the stupidest young boy
With a wax soul
And impressionable.
I thought I'd find something
Nestled here amidst the trees
And I did,
But in no halls but the hall of god
Speaking to me
Dancing between the leaves
Singing with every whispered breeze
And yet when I stepped
Past the threshold and into the
"real world"
I was sold
A maniac of utter delinquency.
Everybody there
Waiting for their turn
Auditioning for the favor of hearts
They'll never win
Can't see
Laughing and wondering
Reading without comprehension
Sticking their *** in the face of the classics
Lap dogs licking the milk from
Professed *******
Thinking they'll be next
Its not resentment--
Is it fair to be bent
Towards dollars that've never been spent?
All those silly parks
Divided from the civilized lands
Frontiers of the past
Left to be little staging areas
For that invisible hand
Kids go on spring break
Take pictures between the towns
Maybe a stop along
On the way
To Vegas
Deep in the desert where it'd **** any other day
I cannot escape the unfathomable beauty of that place,
Living off the world in a way God said
To toil and love the pain
In a way nobody does
I am guilty of pride and
Stuffed like a pie full of anger
Cooking it into solid joy
And trying hard to scrape the cancerous crust away
All the dark sides we avoid
But screaming the heat away is good
Thermal induction is the name of the game
Entropic fizzlements like bubbles in the wind
Sublimating all that ever stood.
Yet soon enough I'll be born anew
And what I leave behind
Lifted up
Nautoloid shell
With a sparkling abalone interior
Someone will place on their shelf
And think,
"I wonder where that thing had been."
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC
Perplexed by the lack of emotion
This service once the fight of the nation
Little thought now that war was won
Little thought to who receives the funds
One nation is what was told
All services were once ours to hold
Now the deeds of greedy done
The profits to them shall become
The needy the poor will rot in the gutter
Whilst a city is built like no other
Care not for the want or needs
The delinquency has sown its seeds
No blankets in a harsh winter
No shelter for the wars that splinter
Gone the door where free could roam
Pay your dues again or face the laws at your home
Do not whinge nor whine
Your lapse behavior sees you fine
When its you that seeks their wares
You will find a cost too much to bare
When your cut or wound lays rotting
Reflect your moment of desertion
Remember this the choice was yours
You chose to watch as they dismantled
The Nations Health service and Closed the doors.
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 5:34 AM UTC
Demoralization.
The delinquency of this
day-and-age.
With clipped wings and
Gnashing teeth
we contemplate escape
from our gilded cages.
Material.ism
Nihilism.
New religion at large
Go into your churches
Your synagogues ,
Pray for your things.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:39 PM UTC
A LIFE TORN APART
When I first peeped into the world, I deemed it fit for the growth of my
miniature. When I peeped again, I trembled with disbelieving eyes at the
emergent live labyrinth that stood staring; but then, can an opinion change
an existence? Maybe, just maybe
As our mother packed and left, our father drove away. We remained hidden in
desolate souls. We were striked with a giant of a being called sustenance,
which dwelt in providence. Sincerely our begetters ought to have thought of
our brilliant futures. We deserved a life, to run the race towards academic
heights
Just the other day I overheard, my hemophilic father tying the famous knot
with a fellow MAN. Then I thought, what would become of my ego? Would I
walk with MY head held high facing other heterosexually raised colleagues?
Would I even get the strength to chase after the big price? I think not
As I grew up, I hoped for an illuminated course. Now I walk in converging
paths. After my fore-bearers kicked their ***** apart, I sobbed after my
dressed mother, they say. But who could have thought that I would turn into
a walking stone?
Walking through streets in search of well-wishers, I wished my parents had
held onto their existence. She blamed it on lewdness while he held it all
upon the mistake of an early pregnancy. Was I born unwanted? Was I smuggled
into this existence? I cease to think about it.
As a student, I thought my father’s charm the way to go. As a child, my
mother’s “generosity” to male neighbors elated me. Now as a parent to be I
think, what would my apprehended seed think of my responsibilities? Will I
be faced by delinquency? I thought the rod could do a lot to effect
change. It never did on me. Maybe I ought to mind the examples that I was
given not.
With my Progenitor bidden by the feared misfortune, I still sink in the
memories of my father, taken away by the same old grabber, HIV/AIDS. How I
hate you HIV….I beseech thee to move away from me. I promise my dear life;
that I will always run against the traffic. I will ensure I entangle myself
not, in a creased heart and walk with head held high. With the hope of
giving my bairm, the kind of life that I always wanted
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
It looks like the entire city is on fire.
Black statues on the Charles Bridge
like charred remains from the blaze coming off the shining roof of the National Theatre.
And you might be able to picture it
when I say gothic towers glow like points of flame,
But you really have to go yourself to see what I mean when I say
there's a wind tunnel running from the Florenc metro station to Naměstí Republiky
that catches in it a gust of a thousand people in shades of red and black and gold.
If you are in the right place at the right time,
you can see the moment the streets lamps all light up in unison
by some command of the darkening sky
And suddenly everything is picturesque, even if you don’t know what that means.
Your favorite park might be the popular place for adolescent delinquency
but that doesn’t change the way the light from the setting sun
turns the Vltava into melted gold.
David Černy’s fluorescent middle finger signals to the world
That here in Prague the world’s on fire.
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 4:02 PM UTC
Derick knew what he had done,
To earn the impression of delinquency.
He had broken the law many times,
And fought with people frequently.
His mother branded him a danger,
To society and himself.
His father branded him a stranger,
His real son lived upon a shelf.
"See this boy here?" his dad would say,
Tapping a photograph of young Derick.
He remembered that day,
When life had been more generic.
That was before his father slouched alone,
Bottle in palm of hand,
Talking to women on the phone,
What a role model, what a man.
"I see the boy," Derrick said,
His voice quiet as night.
"But I don't see the man,
Who prompted me to fight."
Little Derik came across his father,
Back then, talking to his women,
He managed to anger the man,
Who hit him then claimed to be kiddin'.
His father flushed with anger,
He hit his son in the face.
"Don't you dare say that,
You know your place!"
Derick, he was deemed society's menace,
Few cared that his father drove him so,
I hope that you will judge less,
For you simply never know.
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 9:45 AM UTC
I took a walk down the road that marks
where the outskirts of town begins.
I don't know where it goes.
All I know is that it's a straight line
and I'll end up somewhere if I keep walking.
So, not wanting to end up like
one of those stupid kids in the scary movies,
I walked back home
a little faster than I had come.
There's an overcrowded pool in the center of town.
It's a wonder nobody's drowned yet.
I went to the dollar store and bought a Snickers,
the rest you can read about in the paper,
front page.
Most interesting thing that's happened here in years.
Flipped off the old ***** who thinks
people shouldn't be free to express love...
just for the hell of it.
I sneaked out at night just to see the town-
dead after 8:00-
and to pretend the world was mine
until the cops showed up.
I didn't know there was a curfew.
Who cares, that was a great feeling.
Time in the summer is like a kidney stone,
because it's hard as hell to pass.
Jun 4, 2010
Jun 4, 2010 at 6:49 AM UTC
Why can't I disrespect her situation and utilize manipulation!!!?
****
(Agitation)
How can I make her lacerate
Leaving him to **********
While her and I gravitate
(Aggravation)
Am I wrong for trying to captivate?
To cause a tragedy
So that I can place her in my cavity
Count on their delinquency
So that I can hit the jackpot like treasury
I must put a result to their destiny
When I see their pictures
My jaws quiver
She needs to be hither
I'm thinking I should be sly
And slither
Or should I be blatant and invite her to dinner?
Right in the face of her mister
Excuse me ma'am
Have you ever seen otters afloat the waters?
When I see it in my studies
I always get cuddly
I have a California king with only blankets to cover me
I have no buddy
I have friends
But no ones lovely
Can we hover the lake
Holding hands so that we won't
Drift away
You will be cute as the otters
I don't know why would I even bother
No groom; I'm all scruffy
I look ok alone
But you gone make me look ugly
Or
Come here
Hug me
Is this your hubby?
That's why his shoulders is shrugging?
And his face is mugging?
He know if you escape his disgrace and come to my cubby
He'll be in the hole
Ain't that right man? (Directed to him)
What's your name?
Stan?
Hey how are you doing Stanley
I'm digging your girl like my last name is Yelnats
And I'm trying not to disrespect
But it's testing
You have the great big book of everything
And a queen who can be on the cover of King because she's ****
But look at you
How'd you do it?
Here you go take my number down and dial whenever he's around so he can know where you're about to go
See you later
Which approach is better?
I like both
Should I be smooth or rude?
I have to make up my mind soon so that I can make my move
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 10:39 PM UTC
Hissing near my window, as if the cobra were striking
screeching audible like the bald eagle of injustice were diving
haunted cities of poverty parading delinquency like a soldiers ribbon
little brother that receives the backlash of disturbance in his home and abroad
as if a whip were cracking, the angry, grotesque whip of prejudice.
lonely wonderer click-clacking through memories that toll the scroll
and through tears and acceptance and black holes of the mind,
to survive this circus tent that is no more a fantasy than it is just,
no more a joke than the joke itself
and only cruel cowards and ravenous robbers are laughing, pointing
sharp fingers in our faces and shrieking about revenge.
Jan 31, 2011
Jan 31, 2011 at 9:53 AM UTC
(by Bruce Bawer)
In Sønderberg the other day
A teenage girl used pepper spray
To rout a randy “refugee”
From somewhere far across the sea
Who threw down and molested her.
The cops arrested her.
As part of a jihadist plot,
A brute assailant took a shot
At a fine Copenhagen man
Who'd deprecated the Quran.
When the brave soul who'd nearly died
Then publicly identified
The **** who'd tried to **** him, he
Was charged with grave delinquency:
Breaching privacy.
In Mölndal, a Somali teen
Plunged a long blade into the spleen
Of a young Swedish altruist
Who'd yearned to do one thing: assist.
The land's top cop went on TV
And trumpeted his sympathy.
For the poor girl who'd lost her life?
No. For the kid with the knife.
At one time it was understood
That a devotion to the good
Didn't mean one should be blind
To evil, or pretend to find
Some virtue in sheer villainy.
To see what isn't there to see
Is not a sign of rectitude.
To point out evil isn't rude;
To fight it is good.
You can't, however hard you try,
Mistake for a speck in the eye
A loaded *** in the hands
Of some rough beast from foreign sands
Intent on taking out a child.
You'll win no points for being mild
To members of a desert creed
That seeks to make the heathen bleed
And preaches that the kind and meek
Are contemptibly weak.
Christ said to turn the other cheek.
But what if it's not just your cheek?
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 1:58 PM UTC
I love you honey bunny
he says as if Jules is a seat ahead of us
with a gun pointed straight at his nuts.
Then you have Dylan making your throat red raw
before the words have even slipped off your tongue.
The jump from teenage delinquency to normal relations
was harder than I thought after all.
Olivia's paranoia ensues on to the next golden boy
and Jill's left ****** is the only joy I feel I bring to the table.
Every tacky horoscope site tells me you and I are simpatico
my head on the other hand is knee deep in delusions
of fates paths ruined and fates paths missed on both ends.
I've foolishly given you my all
and I foolishly anticipate the fall.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
Couldn’t grasp a report today… dear child.
My broadcast body tuned to this frequency
Wouldn’t turn the channel ‘mind so beguiled
Me and my ******* voracious tendencies
Like a blood clot in my brain these words are filed
This new sensation is my delinquency.
Let’s shut it off... and get away.
Flip the switch on my ten-pound nemesis
Can shoulders bear its weight day after day
So Long the time has come to finish this.
This child as pure as I am blight; Let’s both be free.
Don’t Plant the Red Fern angel, he has long to Grow
Son, here’s my soul, please interchange with me
Like the boy I wonder, “Where will I go?”
As I’m not so proud of my biography
Alright Jack, it’s time to Get on the Road with this show.
Hell is a library with only one book, The Inferno.
_TRF 12/13/16
Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC
They skate
through the streets
in the midst
of dawn
caring for no-one
but each other
and their
forbidden love
One a refugee
the other
a used up tyre
What they have
in common
is their
delinquency
The wheels tear
and shred
the pavement
marking their time
and their place
where all others
had failed
to even recognise
or for that matter
acknowledge
And they wheel off
and the sun rises
and nobody knew
that they were even
there.
Jan 23, 2010
Jan 23, 2010 at 2:21 AM UTC
Drazen days abrasing me
to launch myself into delinquency.
The selfish truths we plead
and cry no heed,
to those who beg for our attentions.
The masses play to the puppeteers whims.
They dance this way, they spin that way.
They fall and rise and stumble through the lies.
The whole while everyone laughing inside.....
Believing themselves to be superior.
What foolish games we live by here.
The present now has lost sight of it all,
their "souls" are lost,
and wandering farther from whats real.
I am alone here in this place.
The place they carelessly erase.
Where shall I go when all is gone?
No where to be, no more song.
I seem to be the only one with resistance....
I am trapped and can't find the distance....
To place between myself and their existence.
© Crystal Erickson 04/10/08
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 12:40 PM UTC
This convalescence eases on slowly,
Coy acuteness craves the longing contentment!!
No resentment, as I walk high heel to booted lace!!!
Creditor, to whom Didst thou pay thine debt?
Or is thy debt still owed?
Curiosity is crowched beneathe the delinquency of fendid demagogues!!
Mortar of temples and synagogues,
You chief cornerstone!!!
You guru with no home,
Curvature of decadence delineates your demeaning haste,
Open up taste the taste, and heed thy view!!!
A must programmed to turn muteable,
A mourner for me and you.
Omniscient angels raistheth me above the mountains peaks,
Where the strange instruments are observable,
And lovers are loveable,
As your kin she will be to be more than distraction!!!!
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 6:13 PM UTC
The quest for both burial and resurrection are significant, as their flickering shadows of the self-depreciatory abyss chant their silent and hauntingly audible presence under the canopy of the ancient forest.
Let us celebrate the night together, as we are traumatically enveloped within an exposed and dialectical pronunciation during this classical and acoustic daylight romance.
Although I truly hate your love, I also reject your evident indifference.
This is the essence of feeling like a fake within the genuineness of our actual and perceived realities.
It is heaven-sent, like a feathered breed of unresolved investigations within our socio-political climate of assumed advancement, where the intensity of the beat gyrates her percussionist hips across ******* expressions of the cosmological sound barrier.
Concurrently, the tangible rhythm of nature’s pulse considerately consummates her forcefully placid interactions within the context of gender specific diversity.
It is all in the name of discriminatory wholeness, my friend.
Our ambivalent connectedness to that which is catastrophically uncertain reminds me of drawing curtains across this conglomerate dawn of darkness and uninhibited concealment.
Just look at our ornithological formation, where leadership spreads her wings with censored zoological resignations and simplistic wisdom.
You have truly lifted my soul within the complexity of this circuitry, and I wholeheartedly acknowledge that we are a myriad of expressions which cannot be adequately articulated within the thermals of our cosmological stratosphere.
Yet, there is a certain finesse to delinquency, and I have bridged the metaphorical gap across the chasm of divided entities, where we can embrace the cool and gentle breeze right at the fulcrum of unforgiving landscapes and shamanic pastures.
Like an artistic depiction of woodland serenity, we are engaged in this wonderful neutrality where it is all about the dance – otherwise known as the energy of modern choreography.
Epistemology can be questionable, where assumptions are sickeningly grounded within the soil of egocentric perceptions of supremacy.
Trust me, my seasoned partner of those astral plains of Nirvana: my lips are sealed in this putrid reconciliation of proclaimed opposites, which are said to mutually attract.
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
as my eyes roll to the back of my head,
I gain clarity
and tell myself-
“the Earth only spins in one direction;
no amount of delinquency
will ever
give you the power
to change that.”
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 11:33 AM UTC
Part One: (The Part With No Rhyme)
Do you remember
when I was to be expelled?
A life ruined (or so I thought)
because of my facade of stupidity,
of delinquency.
And do you remember,
after the weekly screaming and biting?
Which met with more biting, and more screaming,
and crying
And how my only solace for discomfort and failure,
were the stolen pills-
the ones with the moon imprint-
that made the heaviness of the impending crash,
weightless.
Part 2: (The Part With Rhyme)
Westbound, California bound.
Turned around, though-
to their little-big town.
Unkept and festering, with rats
Not quiet, nor sound.
Oh, how I hate this town,
and how, everything must be either white or brown-
and how, the only thing in common-
metals and jewels, robbed from their crowns.
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 10:06 PM UTC
Once I was the one when I followed you,
Now I am the one who regrets following you,
Once you were a statue of honesty in front of me,
Now you are a statue of delinquency in front of me,
Once you were an angel to me,
Now you are a devil to me,
Once you gave me happiness,
Now you are taking away my happiness,
Once I thought you were my saviour,
Now I know you are my destructor,
Once your halo was too bright and lustrous for me,
Now your halo is too dark and dull for me,
Once you were everything to me,
Now you are nothing to me,
Because I NOW know about your BETRAYAL.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
I retain, fixed
unworldly
cashed-in
a point
until corroded by metological formula
and practical social delinquency
Weather me down
til I am camera
projector
and pinhole
Pure and abyss-less
lights vehicle
apperatus
- forget me not
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 9:52 PM UTC
A soul seeking a pedestal to lay my head
The shameful hand pressed against malice
They come in an all shades,
Shadows stalking the infancy of your soul
Under the path of delinquency,
Voices penetrates my closet
There she was with a white veil
Sitting at the end of a rainbow
A lovers den sings in silence.
The voices of my life implant a deep thirst for sincerity
Corridors cry at the sound of the bell
Have you ever seem a look of baby seeking its mother
The thirst of a child bears witness
To the starvation for knowledge
The caged unveil the innocent.
Once I made my decision to walk away from painful encounters
The road began to clear a path inside my heart
Faith is a gift given to those willing to take
a leap inside a circle of illusion.
The plain field even at the sound of a wave
A valiant attraction found the blackness of life
The window dresser arranged mannequins to feels their naked bodies.
A crying veil follows each step
The first dream anger the stars
A first kiss found my lips shivering for life
Sorrow fights constantly with happiness for understanding
Silence force its way in, obviously my veins flinch for a moment
Since I was a young boy, overly protected from the sun.
The hands patiently strolled inside a twilight of goodness
A secret unveil love and then the hunger for a new story
Broken dolls fight for the right to breath,
Loneliness wait for an eyelid to wreck with reality
Softness invites you to walk in the sand
Waiting for the true about God to sinks inside my heart,
once and for all fight the demons chasing you through the woods
Please forgive me for the nakedness of my body
But loving in the dark, is not loving it all...
Rony Joseph all right reserved 2010
May 30, 2010
May 30, 2010 at 1:07 PM UTC
Reach for me.
I am the shadow of some solitary oblivion
My heart is suffering too much
Misery becomes the helm of the series
I lie back on the softness
like a bed of nails, it hurts me like it must.
The kohl of my eyes, so grey, with tears lingering all around.
I can hardly breathe anymore nor can I move.
How do you stimulate this amount of contemptuous pain and sorrow, so smothering in your mere presence?
But he, he lifts up my soul, all so vaguely right.
He makes me want him more, he makes me forget all remorse.
How do I feel this way?
In this surreality of my existence, like a solemn scene of bask and sorrow.
Perhaps I'll live, perhaps I'll die.
Just when did the night sky went so starry and the sun found a home behind the clouds?
And when did you leave so subtly and he moved in like he belonged here?
I am caught in a conundrum, though.
Is my head absorbing all the juvenile delinquency around and exuding the most picturesque memories of the past?
It's a ridiculous predicament I am caught in the middle of.
Because the flower was plucked only to adorn the Bride's lush.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 8:52 AM UTC