"depended" poems
Take me to the art museum and kiss me by the paintings, Take me to the deeper parts of the oceans, so deep that any coral reef will be jealous that we will survive, Take me to that little ice cream shop my parents use to go on dates to when they were hopelessly in love and I'll let you order your favorite ice cream, Take me to the Chinese restaurant where my schizophrenic grandmother use to take me on late night outings and I'll kiss you in every booth, take me to New Jersey, to that beach where your parents stood in the same room and introduced you to home, take me to your bed, talk to me about those parts of your body not everyone gets to meet, take me to an abandoned hospital and let me take your blood on a canvas and make it resemble the Mona Lisa, so that people years from now glorify us, take me to the hill where I first tried ******* and let's make our hearts beat in sync with the breath of the flowers surrounding us, take me to that bench in the school gym where we met and kiss me, kiss me like you've never kissed anyone before, kiss me as if it'll be the last lips you ever touch, kiss me as if your life depended on it, take me to the edge of the universe and I'll show you the end of my love.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 9:37 AM UTC
For a creation was devised of the purest and simplest elements in life
When the calming and smooth sensation of water caressed your bones, it carved canals of strength along the way
Your skin crawled and crept past your defined chin to bind with its lover
and when the tendon reached the muscle, it fused in an unbreakable relationship
Baby, the sight of your eyes shatters the crystallization of the finest glass
And your voice pierces the night fog leaving a path for only you
The kindness of your heart poured into the rivers to feed oxygen to all of those who depended on it
Your body contains the same carbon that creates sparkling diamonds
The majority of the oxygen is the same element creating tornadoes, or when fused to hydrogen to make a hurricane
Do you see how powerful you are made?
Your soft lips are the same lips that can produce sound in an empty canyon
Your bones are the base of your embrace when you sweep me off my feet
That mind is the exact replica that discovered how to survive the times that were a bigger struggle than planned
Despite all of these acts, how simple or extravagant
You are the perfect arrangement of atoms that hold my hand when I am scared to carry on alone
And the same arrangement of atoms that pull me close and kiss my lips
One might say these actions, however small, have a stronger effect than any hurricane, or tornado, or diamond
For you are a creation devised of the purest and simplest elements in life
And you are completely mine
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 7:21 PM UTC
It was in the end of September,
The kashmir trip i still remember,
The thought of going to the heaven on earth made me feel so excited,
I was happy and delighted,
Our eyes filled with enthusiasm and hope,
And to kashmir we wanted to lope,
Just the twelve of us,
There wouldn't be any ruckus or fuss,
We were accompanied by ma'am Handa and Mr. Pandey,
We enjoyed everything from gondola rides to our house boat stay,
We went to places like Sonamarg and Pahalgam,
We'd get tired reach the hotel and apply Jhandu balm,
We enjoyed all our horse rides,
We were accompanied by well-versed guides,
We always managed to take out time for shopping,
From shop to shop we went hopping,
Kashmiri kawah and authentic Kashmiri food for almost every meal,
Would make the tiredness for long distance walking heal,
A Kashmiri wedding is also what we attended,
For back and forth rides on shikara we depended,
Oh! But to sum up I have to say,
In kashmir we loved it each and everyday.
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 3:10 AM UTC
Hey
I’m sorry if I interrupted your class with text messages
because you hate putting your phone on silent
it’s just that I should be there with you
laughing at your confused faces during Calculus I and
staring at your look of sheer concentration during Creative Writing
You were always the poet, not me
But it’s 1pm and I’m stuck in Calculus with someone else as my partner
who doesn't get nearly as confused as you and puts me to shame
which ****** me off because you would never correct me in Calculus
and so I can’t help but wonder who your new partner is
Is she smarter
Is she funnier
Do you quote Shakespeare to her like you did to me?
Is she better than me?
There’s no doubt that a. I ******* it all up and that b. you’ll move on from me
because you were always the popular one, I was the antisocial outcast that most people barely
tolerated
For some unknown reason you decided to become my friend that faithful day in
Calculus I
and ever since then you became my 3am conversations and midnight laugh
I depended on you much more than you did on me
I cared so much more
and maybe that was my fatal flaw
because if I hadn't cared so much
then maybe I wouldn't feel like screaming and throwing my partner’s textbook
at the teacher
but I did
I cared too much; against all warnings not to and now I’m wrecked
then again, I always was in a way
I just didn't know it
You told me that it didn't matter
that they couldn't separate us; no matter what
that you would never let me go
and you kept your promise
but I can’t keep mine
The words “I’m sorry”
come to my head
but those aren't the right words
because I’m more than sorry
I’m bleeding
I’m crying
I’m devastated
I’m torn
I’m broken
and perhaps that’s why I can’t keep my
Okay?Okay promise to you
because no, I am not okay
and you deserve so much more
and this is not okay
me lying to you through a computer screen is
not okay
me putting my gashes of regret on my arm is
not okay
me making you wait only for you to find a fraction of the girl I was is
not okay
and that is why
today during Calculus I
I will finish this ****** poem
and excuse myself and go to the girls’ bathroom
and cry my eyes out after sending this to you
I should end this with a ‘goodbye’
because there’s no use giving you false hope
but I can’t bring myself to end there
so I’ll just say something
and hope that you still remember what it means
P.S. I’ll always love you
(h.l.)
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 6:52 PM UTC
You were as stealthy as a slow gas leak, by the time i knew i was in love with you, i had succumbed to you. You were in the drivers seat of my car lighting a cigarette with the windows up so i could breathe you in. I quit smoking so your secondhand smoke was all you would allow. I watched as you brought the cigarette to your lips and dragged in as if your life depended on it. It was your third one today and i told you that you should stop, maybe breathe me in for a second. Do you know what i would give to become second hand smoke from your lips? All you would have to do is kiss me and i would vanish into thin air, become a noble gas in the periodic table but there is nothing noble about the element of disappearance. I have been shrinking away from you ever since you held my hand in that convenience store a year ago. I'm trying to convince myself to get over you because all i am to you is someone to **** slowly through your second hand smoke. I never knew I could get so addicted to nicotine until it came from under your tongue. When you're gone, it's hard for me to breathe which doesnt make sense because when youre here my lungs are filled with your sweet black tar. But you will be gone for months when you leave in two weeks. You said you'd write to me, but written words can't carry your second hand smoke. You can't build a home out of a human being, but that doesn't mean i cant find a home in your bed.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 1:52 AM UTC
She was always
Simply
A
Lock
Away; all they needed was the
Key.
Those who found it
Lost it soon enough too.
But those who fashioned it,
themselves
Without deterring from the task
Without trying to replicate a lost key
With nothing but a
egami euqinu
In their minds
Of what the lock looked like
And what the key should look like
Only those few,
Few, very few
Wizards
who toiled to work their magic
Succeeded.
And they never lost their key
They necklaced it around their heart
A symbol that was now etched into
their existence
Entangled in the life of the veins
That this heart so solely depended on
Becoming one with them
Those were the lucky ones
The others, the ones she wished mattered
Were still only searching
Searching
Meandering
Probing
Ferreting
Still only looking for
A key that had once been used
And whose lock was now
Rust rusting rusted
With time.
Still searching
But never creating, of course
Always only searching
Until they found it
And then lost it again.
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 2:48 AM UTC
The scent of the pollen allured her, hanging in the still air of the morning. She would stop in her travel and visit each flower that she found. The precious nectar oozed from deep within the petals and she would thirstily drink at each one. She would gently land in the scented shade of each blossom and coax the precious nourishment from it. She never gorged, but rather drank from each flower what it was willing to give. Some were full and over ripe and bursting with the honeyed juice. Others had a smaller treasure, but she would drink lovingly of their gift leaving them an offering of pollen as a thanks. Her small, delicate tongue would gently lick and probe the recesses of the flower hunting the sweetness inside. The pollen on her coat would touch with the very deepest innards of the bloom and enter its very core. Her gift, as she suckled each part, was imparted into the scented womb of the softly petaled blossom. Each flower awaited her coming and spread wide it’s scented opening for her to enter. Their swollen pistils would be gorged with the potential for life and their gently glistening stamens would tempt her to feed on their sticky juices. The soft buzzing of her wings caressed the delicate parts of the fragrant blooms with a gentle breeze as she drank her sustenance. She sheltered in the colored shade of petals, hung round her like colored sheets, as she took what each one had to offer. When she was done she would move on to the next, slowly and deliberately milking the juice of life from each one. Every flower needed her and each one did what it could to tempt her in. Some threw heavy fragrance into the air so she could catch their scent while others bared their large and swollen glands so she could see their abundance. She traveled from bloom to bloom, sometimes enticed by the shaded shelter, and other times the sight of glistening pollen. But she fed on each one, large and small, and in each one she left her gift. The pollen that she carried would be imparted on each ***** stamen as she fed. The glistening end of the shaft was soft and sticky and waiting for the pollen that would carry on its life. While she fed each day, there was a gardener who tended to her plants. He took gentle care of them, weeding and pruning and tending to their needs. The flowers that she fed on were his future sustenance and he tended her as well. He would follow her sometimes through his garden and watch as she gently buzzed from plant to plant. She was used to his watchful eyes as he watched her drink from each bloom. He knew that his crop depended on her and he would peer into the bedding of petals as she caressed the sweetness from each one with her tongue. Her long tongue would probe deep into the recesses of the fragrant flower and find every drop of nectar. The gardener watched as she carried on the cycle of life for him and would wait for days to see the swollen fruits of her labor burgeoning from his plants. When she left each flower satisfied with their delicious treat, she would fly off to the next, not knowing that a seed would be swelling in the gorged pistil that she just left. And so it went as the bee buzzed her life away every day. The gardener would be there among his carefully tended crops, watching and waiting as she moved among the flowers. His gaze would follow her as she traveled through the foliage and landed amongst the blooms. Every day he would watch as she coaxed the sweet nectar from each one and left her gift in return.
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 2:03 PM UTC
Dear ************
This is the hateful letter. This is the one in which I tell you how much of a ******** you are and how I am so much better off without you, so thanks for leaving me. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. This is where I tell you that you’re an idiot if you ever thought I depended on you for my self-worth, because I don’t need you for validation, and I never have. I was trucking along just fine before you came along, and will continue to do so without you, so you can go **** yourself.
This is the part where I call you a ******* for saying all those things you said. If you weren’t trying to hurt me, you must be an idiot to think that it was a good idea to say what you did. I’ll tell you that it ****** me off to realize that you obviously didn’t know me as well as I thought you did. It ****** me off that our communication was clearly not functioning like it should have been.
And I’ll tell you how ******* livid it makes me that you just sat there and thought and thought and ******* thought about this while I was still writing ******* poems for you. I am angry at how oblivious I was, which I also blame on you. I blame you for being so introspective and quiet, for needing to think important issues through in your head, only with yourself, before you can voice them, and I am angry because you thought and thought and ******* thought and made a decision that was logical from the inside of your head and you were confused by my reaction because, surprise! Owen’s-head-logic is not the same as Katie-is-being-broken-up-with-logic. And that’s where your speech faltered, where I stopped saying the lines that you wrote for me in your script, and that’s when all of those stupid words came tumbling out of your stupid head and things continued to not go as planned and it all eventually cumulated in this: zero contact. I know it’s not what you wanted but you’re a ******* If you were smarter about it, we may still have been talking, but you said all of the exact wrong things. So I am angry at you for hurting me with your idiotic words, but I am also angry at you for pushing me away. I may have liked to still be talking to you, but all of the **** that came out of your mouth just ruined whatever chance we could have had, so way to go. You are a ruiner - and so concludes the part where everything is always your fault.
This is the part where I understand where you’re coming from, I would have broken up with me too if I were you, I know it’s hard for you to put your words together sometimes, I know your (brutal) honesty only comes from a place of love, I know you love me, I know you miss being my friend…and so on.
That last section makes me sadder than I am willing to be at this point, so I think I’ll stick with anger for the time being and you can **** my nonexistent **** ************
Your Ex-Girlfriend.
Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 6:33 PM UTC
maybe the reason why I dislike Batman
and love the X-Men
is because Batman, gifted with money and power, chose his struggle
the X-Men were forced- they had mutanthood shoved upon them
and had to be crucifed as society pushed them away
hiding in fear and hatred of what they must face
the X-Men learn to adapt, they take what they have
and choose to be the better man, or the worse man,
but they take the fight that was given them
and the freakery that they were born with,
and they adapt.
Batman, however, was born normally,
did not have to run or hide, for he was privileged,
and he walked, walked straight into freakery
he took the burden others were throttled with
and laid it upon his own shoulders, crying 'woe is me'
whilst he went about the noble task of hero-dom
he made himself a fancy suit- he had been given
normalcy and he invented freakery in order to claim sacrifice
he did not need to give himself- he was an ordinary man
that laid down his life.
The reason why that bothers me so much
is that ordinary men do not need to lay down their lives
they are not called to that future
it is not in their cards
he claimed his heroic deeds and choose to throw himself into the
furnace flames- while others suffered unwillingly
he chose it
he took their pain and made it less
'see, I can do it! anyone can do it!'
what makes the X-Men special is that
their mutation isn't 'deal with pain of superheroism'
it's some other power, but they have to learn how to be ostracized
not anyone can do that- they had to
their survival depended on it
Batman walked into the struggle of their lives
and declared himself a hero
though, for some, the declaration
was not in their words or actions, it was written
into their DNA, it was marked in their skin
by the brands of their oppressors, it
was pounded into every heartbeat shocked with electricity
they fought and hid their heroism their whole lives
for they knew- it was not something to love,
it was something to suffer with-
and Batman took that, he took the heroism
and he projected it across the night sky,
declaring, "I am Batman",
and it is something he can escape from,
he can walk away, he can walk away, he can walk away,
and yes, he chooses not to,
but what he does is steal from those who cannot walk away
his heroism takes the nails in the hands of mutants and orphans
and masochistically drives them into his own palms
crying whilst doing it.
rather than being forced to adapt and look normal,
he puts on a suit and prances through the night dramatically
he takes everything sufferable about being a hero
and tosses it out the window-
he takes everything noble about being a hero
and growls it in a dramatic voice, posing, in his fancy suit,
when he could be safe at home. why would you choose this
why would anyone choose this
be thankful for your ability to be safe,
that is the real superpower- the ability
to be normal, to have a home to go back to, to
have a normal purpose and a normal life,
and Batman is completely, utterly, ungrateful-
he wishes there were more,
while those born with 'gifts' would be satisfied with even less.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
Every year it comes
every year it goes
we spend a fortune promoting it, getting ready for it and giving in to it
it's advertised everywhere
spoken by everyone.
It's contagious, it makes us ill
it makes us worry, it makes us aggressive
it makes us rush around like our lives depended on it.
But every year when it comes we love it
every year when it goes we miss it
we spend a fortune to give people a moment of happiness
smiles and laughter
It's advertised everywhere to remind us of the good times
everyone speaks of it because it is so important
it's contagious but gives us joy
we worry and get aggressive because we care so much we want to make that one person happy
we rush but when you see those people smile it's worth it.
Merry Christmas
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 3:11 AM UTC
I wanna have ***
I want to make love
I want to be desired
Like a fire is to oxygen
I want someone to want me so badly they can't keep their hands off me
I want to have ***
all night long or til we pass out and then **** some more
I want to **** like there's no tomorrow and our lives depended on it.
I want to taste ***** and feel a woman's thighs wrapping face like a vice grip
I want to kiss and lick her *** and get lost in the moment
I want her to lick and **** me like I was a 3 star michillan resteraunt and she hadn't eaten for days
I want to make love
I want to lay on the couch cuddling in front the tv
Or laying on the bed spooning the whole day away
I want to look into a woman's eyes and see the love and and passion waiting to pounce on me.
I want to have ***
I want to ****
At the park at night or in my car late at night
I want to **** on a hike off the trail where no one can see (but might)
Or some public bathroom where we might get caught.
I want to have ***
I want to use toys, rope and blindfolds, candles and wax
To get as ***** as the moment takes us as we explore our bodies and sexuality
I want to have ***
Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 4:58 PM UTC
Life is like a deck of cards,
you never know what you will get.
After you get what you (have) received,
you do not know if you’ll be deceived.
You try your best to play it right,
but all the noise made your grip (excruciatingly) tight.
You look left and right to find the answer,
you were not aware of the need of a Savior.
Life is like a deck of cards,
there can’t be just one player — at least two,
winning and losing depended on skills,
(but) sometimes before you even know it –
you were killed.
Every second — a grim sombre anticipation,
Every minute — a twist of hope and sense of admiration,
you try to scrape through using persuasion,
but all in all we’re in delusion.
A delusion, A deck,
of cards.
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 3:48 AM UTC
i melted off of you
like crystal clear water
as the snow changes form
_you were the mountain i depended on_
i had found home in your rubble
justified all of your cracks
when all along i knew
it wasn't me who
was falling
_it was you_
back then i was blind
but i thought i could see
how beautiful you + me could be
when my light peaked through
those broken parts in you
i guess that's what healers do
we attract the broken ones
knowing there is room to fill
but i have got to stop
and remember that no one
can understand my warmth
when they've only ever lived
in the cold corners of
my hopeful heart
when they only
loved me as
i looked
away
but that's
not romantic
it just left me frantic
yet all of that darkness
has made me a
mantic
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 8:13 PM UTC
You shouldn't kiss guardrails
Because they have chapped lips
And the jagged edges
Will slice your tongue
Whenever you touch them
You shouldn't kiss guardrails
Because metal on metal
Isn't a forgiving sound
But you already know that
From when you had your first kiss
And you were each wearing braces
You shouldn't kiss telephone poles
Because they are sensitive
And will bite your lip with an electric current
But not in the way that you were hoping
And rear view mirrors aren't for decoration
But you never bothered to look at them
When you were desperately switching lanes
And speedometers aren't for your entertainment
But you always enjoyed watching the needle fluctuate
As though your life depended on it
(It did)
And the high beams of oncoming cars
Aren't Christmas lights in restaurant windows
And crashing through the windshields
Won't bring you any closer
To the apple pie the bakery down the street made
That always reminded you of home
And even though you no longer recognize
The town you grew up in
Or the boy you fell in love with
You shouldn't kiss guardrails
Because they might kiss you back
But not in the way that you were hoping.
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
Why do I feel
The need
To kiss you
So violently
As if my life
Depended on it?
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 1:29 AM UTC
you swallowed prunes as if your life depended on it, and to your mental state, they were better than any gateway drug or needle implanted into your muscles
the rough exterior cracked and ripped apart your lips unforgivably; tearing down your esophagus with the force of a peach pit
you rubbed dried apricots onto your skin as if that could cure you of all your sadness; as if it could take the need to get away and drown yourself
until you were buried deep into the soil and there are flowers nestled into the crooks of your bones and you tasted of sweat, ***** and tears
when at night you sit on the edge of your bed contemplating life or death between sobriety and a drunk that lingers for days on end clinging under your nails
and to all the people who roll their eyes at you and say ‘you’ll get over it’
tell them to **** themselves; tell them that when they see apricots, they see sunshine, but you see death to infinity and beyond;
you see all the broken promises that were whispered into the knots in your back
you see the lily pads of roses that dripped with regrets and words that were never said
words that gripped your lungs like a vice in the back of a car
when you thought of love, you thought of apricot kisses rubbed against your lips;
of rolled up aluminum foil
of lighters drained of their fluids in a week time
of the close to boiling water that invaded your personal space and reached the tip of your nose
and of peach kisses from Georgia that dug its way into you; promising another day
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:20 AM UTC
I swear I hate computers
what happened to antique typewriters
Yah computers are helpful and all
but what happens if they crash
or the hard drive erases
what happens if your life depended on computers
and then your computer freaked out?
If you asked me, I would love to be sitting in an old fashioned
office, typing away at an antique royal!
oh well I'll live not like I can convince the world to agree with me...
Apr 24, 2010
Apr 24, 2010 at 3:27 PM UTC
A question I have to ask
Has it always been like this
I've never felt so comfortable just happy to exist
now you tell theres a reason
a reason for your frown
well darling I'd pick up it all
to get out of this town
lets just run away
start brand new
**** all these ********
baby its me and you but...
You don't even know me
At least lets not forget
smiling at you was the least of my regrets
at least I could be depended on
at least I could be depended on
And everyday were striving for
Another new place to carry on
I just wanted to believe
That everyone gets what they want to achieve
Let's just run away
Start brand new
Another new place where we belong to but
you don't even know me
so babe lets not pretend
I just wanted someone new
to hold on to the end
to hold on to the end of it all
to hold on to ....the end
to hold on to ....the end
the end....of it all
run away , start brand new, baby lets pretend.
run away , start brand new, baby lets pretend.
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 12:49 PM UTC
Definition: A term used for someone who hides his/her pain and misery behind a fake smile.
i know you want me to be happy
i know you want the best for me
but it hurts so much
so i hide behind a smile
either you don't know me too well
or you don't care at all
you just don't seem to notice things now
how everything has changed
you used to be my reason for happiness
but if i depended on you always
how would i be happy
when you're gone
now i am truly happier
even if you're gone
you taught me a lesson when you left
because you seem happier without me too
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 10:25 AM UTC
When she hugs me I feel cold
As if she were a ghost
I would not trust this woman
Even if my life depended on it
She may have stolen my brother’s heart,
But my forgiveness can never be given
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 10:42 PM UTC
Their greasy hair sticking to their faces,
Hanging their heads down in sadness.
I dream to help those homeless people,
And to see their faces lit up in gladness.
I dream to change the lives of many people,
By explaining to them we are all human,
And we should help the ones in need.
When they ask, "Who can help?" I will reply, "You can."
My dream is to become a doctor,
Feeling trusted, watched, depended on.
For if I make one mistake,
I will lose a life of a patient and will be glared at a ton.
I dream to fly one day,
To touch the clouds one by one,
To feel the cool breeze,
Noisy brothers, noisy sisters, nope there are none.
I wish to fly far enough,
To go to a quick visit to heaven.
To feel my grandma's cozy embrace,
And to tell her I have turned eleven.
Dreams don't have to be possible.
They are still very important.
I will keep on dreaming no matter what,
Because I want to dream until the moment.
The moment my dreams come true.
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 1:39 AM UTC
The curtains are drawn.
The lights are off.
The applause has ceased.
This is the feeling of crashing.
This is colliding into the past,
Falling into dirt.
But the show must go on.
You’re center stage,
And the warmth of the spotlight beckons.
The audience is chanting,
“Closer. Closer. Closer.”
The show must go on.
Your confidence shot dead.
Your hope crushed beneath a boot.
Your love twisted and contorted.
Your composure: broken.
But the show must go on.
You think and think and think.
You pray for faith,
In yourself and others.
You seek acceptance in her eyes.
They’re gray and foggy,
Much like your fate.
You say it’s not worth it.
But the show must go on.
But why?
Why walk the distance,
If the distance is always growing?
Why sit on Earth,
While the cosmos call your name?
Why try to be what others want,
And instead come out as what they always expect?
Because you’re depended on;
They depend on your eyes,
Just as you depend on theirs.
They depend on your smile,
Just as you beg for theirs.
You don’t just leave the stage.
You don’t just leave your audience.
They depend on you.
They depend on you for your Love.
They depend on you for your Strength.
They depend on you for your Trust.
So,
On with the show.
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
Ozzie Smith, Yazstremski,
Dave Stieb and Robin Yount
these men were of a special group
It's one I'm proud to count
There's players who achieve a goal
While others just achieve
They set a standard for the rest
In their heart they just believe
The game is full of heroes
Men depended on each game
They all have certain attributes
And we all know them by name
Kaline, Ripken, and Wade Boggs
The Carters, Joe and Gary
They're men who inspire us
They have a reputation tough to carry
To be a man of character
You must be better than the rest
You have to be a leader
If you ***** up, you must confess
Baseball doesn't make you one
For character's within
You just learn how to channel it
Bring it out from where it's been
Now, Cobb, Ruth and McLain
Were characters as well
But, not the kind of characters
That we are here to tell
They had a reputation
One that is not lost upon the game
But, to say that they had character
Then you would not speak their names
Tom Seaver and Clemente
Thurmon Munson, Sparky too
Were men who set examples
Of exactly what to do
To build a reputation
One that shows character and heart
Is something time consuming
It's built of many parts
To do the right thing once
Is not the thing I want to see
But to do it right consistently
That defines character to me
There are so many examples
Of players in this group
But there are ten times as many
Who miss the homer with a bloop
Baseball brings it out in you
It doesn't put it there
You show what you are made of
By definition....to be fair
Williams, Maris, Dimaggio
Robinsons, Jackie and Frank
They played with an integrity
You could take it to the bank
If you want to be a winner
Please do this if you can
Be a man of character
Not a character of a man.
..
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 1:08 PM UTC
I have a dream! I have a dream,
To the racial discriminators, said Martin Luther King,
I have a dream! I have a dream!
To the evil-creating economists, I warn and ring.
Globe witness hunger, inequality poverty and unemployment
The world turns out to be bitter,
To all of you, I write this letter.
To create a world relieved from these and turn better.
I am a mad aspiring economist, a fool,
Searching for the right tool,
You turned the world with full of mess,
People are left with nothing less.
To the world, you gave theories,
Pushed us into a vicious cycle of injuries,
About your theories, you boasted,
It has created a few ruling and bloated.
Most of you worked as economic hitmen,
Turned victim laymen to fighting gunmen.
To the realities, your theory is distant,
Served no solution to the dying peasants,
To the few, we remain a psychological slave and servants,
Tuned our lives to a depended migrant.
With your development lecture,
You have killed the entire nature,
In the name of ventures, corporates turned vulture,
Hunted and looted our generations’ future.
We lived a self-reliant community,
You killed us with imposed liability,
Our lives are now placed in intensive casualty,
The word that remains imagination still is equality.
We lost our humanity and identity,
In your eyes, we are just a market and commodity,
Your play with scarcity, was a mere futility,
We finally became a society, filled with atrocity.
Your useless lectures of development,
Put us under frightening & irrecoverable unemployment,
For a few, you got us into a deep-rooted enslavement,
So, now for you instead, we make a replacement.
To my questions, you neglected and ran,
In your eyes, I am foolish stupid common man,
To you short-sighted range,
I say I will bring in a change!
Today, I may remain lower and mere viewer,
A day will come, where you will stand to answer,
Writing a new rule, I would seize your beloved positions,
This will be my lifetime mission and ambition.
I say with all my limited experience,
I will put a test to all your conscience,
Are you just a fat-big corporate’s hand?
With people will you always stand?
I am not an economist,
I am neither an egotist,
I proclaim! I proclaim!
I am a revolutionary economist,
I know you will fit me a label,
I am sure I will be an economic rebel,
A rebellious economist.
I dream a world without huge inequalities,
I dream a world free from imposed liabilities,
I dream a world without poverty and disparities,
I finally dream for becoming an economist with no ambiguities.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 7:43 AM UTC
I was a child filled with wonder
filled with love and curiosity.
I was a child who loved questions
and to wander without anxiety.
Not even a year old
had my heart turned cold.
As a child,
I was relied on,
depended on,
beaten on.
As a child,
I only knew pain,
heartache
and how life
truly was.
Life wasn't fair
not even to a child.
Not to a child's heart
without a care.
Only a few rays of light
shed through the cracks
in the wall of my heart.
Not even an adult
had my eyes become
so old . . .so alone.
The only thought that remained
"Become stronger. Stronger.
No limitations, no excuses."
I had to be stronger for her.
So she wouldn't crumble.
I have become stronger
but I have become a stranger.
My strength leaves me though,
when he holds me tightly.
His arms become my home.
and his heart is my life.
This was my answer,
she has also grown stronger.
I have been on autopilot all along.
I should have just known.
I am Strong on my own.
But I am Stronger
with the friends I have found.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 5:28 PM UTC