"deprecate" poems
*I woke up this morning and my name flashed on T.V.
They said i blew up places , they said i killed masses .
Men , women & children I murdered them all.
Who am I ?
I am a muslim and i am taking this fall.
They used my name and spread the terror.
I am not them , it surely is an error.
We, muslims, are the holders of peace , we spread love.
Why am I being represented by their false actions.
I am a person, with different notions.
World will now brand me a terrorist.
Don't judge me by their actions , I insist.
I am not them, they pilfered my name.
They inflicted libel , and my religion to defame .
I have been robbed , robbed of my name.
I am a muslim , human like you , all the same.
My name has been robbed , my identity stolen
I deprecate the terror and mourn for fallen.
There are millions like me and humanity lies in our depths.
But we are all victims of Identity Theft* ...............
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
And the trees about me,
Let them be dry and leafless; let the rocks
Groan with continual surges; and behind me
Make all a desolation. Look, look, wenches!
Paint me a cavernous waste shore
Cast in the unstilled Cyclades,
Paint me the bold anfractuous rocks
Faced by the snarled and yelping seas.
Display me ****** above
Reviewing the insurgent gales
Which tangle Ariadne’s hair
And swell with haste the perjured sails.
Morning stirs the feet and hands
(Nausicaa and Polypheme).
Gesture of orang-outang
Rises from the sheets in steam.
This withered root of knots of hair
Slitted below and gashed with eyes,
This oval O cropped out with teeth:
The sickle motion from the thighs
Jackknifes upward at the knees
Then straightens out from heel to hip
Pushing the framework of the bed
And clawing at the pillow slip.
Sweeney addressed full length to shave
Broadbottomed, pink from nape to base,
Knows the female temperament
And wipes the suds around his face.
(The lengthened shadow of a man
Is history, said Emerson
Who had not seen the silhouette
Of Sweeney straddled in the sun.)
Tests the razor on his leg
Waiting until the shriek subsides.
The epileptic on the bed
Curves backward, clutching at her sides.
The ladies of the corridor
Find themselves involved, disgraced,
Call witness to their principles
And deprecate the lack of taste
Observing that hysteria
Might easily be misunderstood;
Mrs. Turner intimates
It does the house no sort of good.
But Doris, towelled from the bath,
Enters padding on broad feet,
Bringing sal volatile
And a glass of brandy neat.
3.3k
I. Apply foundation in a tone more perfect than the one you're born with,
doubt that there's anything beautiful in the term "natural"
blot your lips with the cherries you deprive yourself of
and wonder, "What good is difference when it's not appreciated?"
stop reading this.
II. Forget how you were born;
every freckle,
every beauty mark,
every uneven line etched into your face are nothing to be celebrated.
Deprecate yourself, you are unwound and beg this world to shape you in its eyes.
skip this line.
Society speaks subjectively of happiness, but fill your head with lies
that we're all pretty if we can keep up our disguise.
The weight of this world upon your shoulders,
alludes to being big as too much to handle.
Curl into everyone's palm as if you're so fragile,
they have to pinch the skin on your bones with the thumb and index finger.
stop.
III. Draw on the perfectly plump pout, filled with nothing but
expectations of everyone else.
Your beauty is not a privilege for anyone,
but judgment that has defined your worth.
skip.
Emprises that market upon your insecurities,
admire that solemn face in the mirror
as the reflection discourages you
at the acknowledgement of any impurities
Start.
How To Be Beautiful Lifelong
Admire the history that lives within the heartlines of your palms,
how strong you've grown, once cradled in your mother's arms.
Disregard where it is you've come from, but how much further you've journeyed forward.
I. Apply the sincerity in your best friend's voice when
she calls the time you've spent together, beautiful.
Do not doubt the splendor that comes from wisdom.
II. Every wrinkle you've earned,
as time gives back to you from lessons learned.
Blot your lips during the release of laughter
as saliva mists through the air,
your joy so vigorous
the ghosts residing in the graves
regret no more.
You are as you should be,
a composite of everything that gives you life
and grants you purpose.
Begging for this world to love you,
there is no fault in this desire.
They speak of happiness as if
it's only a potential-oriented concept,
Do not let your heart surround the gossip
or it's golden armor become bronzed.
III. Draw on the canvas of existence
in the brightest of hues, in the purest of love.
Filled with nothing, but expecations for yourself
say farewell to the darkness
open the curtains to light.
Your beauty is magnificent
as your name will be transcendent.
In each day we decide to be ourselves,
the poise presents itself.
—V.H.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:15 AM UTC
I will accept thy will to do and be,
Thy hatred and intolerance of sin,
Thy will at least to love, that burns within
And thirsteth after Me:
So will I render fruitful, blessing still
The germs and small beginnings in thy heart,
Because thy will cleaves to the better part.--
Alas, I cannot will.
Dost not thou will, poor soul? Yet I receive
The inner unseen longings of the soul;
I guide them turning towards Me; I control
And charm hearts till they grieve:
If thou desire, it yet shall come to pass,
Though thou but wish indeed to choose My love;
For I have power in earth and heaven above.--
I cannot wish, alas!
What, neither choose nor wish to choose? and yet
I still must strive to win thee and constrain:
For thee I hung upon the cross in pain,
How then can I forget?
If thou as yet dost neither love, nor hate,
Nor choose, nor wish,--resign thyself, be still
Till I infuse love, hatred, longing, will.--
I do not deprecate.
2.1k
#The quill's sodden ink evaporates
while this bell jar encapsulates
leaving these dreary words to permeate
only to rain back down and stagnate
this terrarium, my lonely estate
pickling eyes that spate
people peer through the glass only to deprecate
while I slowly start to acclimate
two horizons squint until light dissipates
allowing the darkness to overtake
monsters crawl out to dilapidate
snarls and growls devastate
this is fate this is fate this is fate this is fate
is it too late is it too late is it too late is it too late
echos verberate echos verberate echos verberate echos verberate
this is fate and it is too late these echos verberate and I ruminate
I ruminate and ruminate and ruminate and ruminate
with a languid gait
a countenance set straight
while I desperately try to create
a happy blissful sunny green free state
it's not too late it's not too late it's not too late
meditate meditate meditate meditate
don't let the glass alienate
pick up the hammer and swing
till the glass ***B E K
R A S.***#
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 10:09 AM UTC
I can’t love myself,
but I still need to be okay,
because all I need is to survive,
and love won’t always get me by,
people leave in the coldest ways,
and one day I’ll want to leave myself,
and break my own heart,
because loving myself was a joke to start,
I won't drown in self hate,
but I refuse to live in a trap and deprecate,
maybe now the sun and moon could agree,
and let me live somewhat happily.
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 12:32 PM UTC
My nails are perfectly manicured, and nice to look at,
But they took ten minutes to start punching the keyboard.
Lethargy is not beautiful.
They had no trouble gripping the stem of the martini I mixed,
With a few of the pickled ingredients that were supposed to mask the heavily peppered *****
But my lips still burn with every dipping.
Only after settling on self-indulgence,
Did I start pressing down on the sticky keys.
I used a lot of commas,
And I painted satisfactorily crap images,
that would allow me to describe destruction.
This rotten passage lets me fantasize about slamming my laptop shut,
Gripping the end between my two fat lazy hands,
And slamming it against the ****** living room wall
That separates me from my ****** bedroom.
My words are violent,
But that just isn't enough.
When you can’t blame emotions on a subject, or a person,
You can transfer them to something physical.
You can crumple it, shatter it, burn it.
You can destroy and indulge in your heavy soul.
You can self-deprecate
Defecate
Alleviate.
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
we are
all plagued
by some churning remnants
of haunting pain and shame
but we are not to blame
for repentance oft falls short
no matter how much we try to exhort
these murky maddening memories to depart
they flow yet in even the purest heart
for me
my crimes, too many to enumerate,
will all cause me to self deprecate,
but of the ones I seem to recall
the deed that taunts me most of all
was the simple thoughtless movement
of two five year old fingers
I used
to crush
two sublimely blue
robin's eggs
in a nest
on a promising bright afternoon
in the dark land of memory
Nov 21, 2011
Nov 21, 2011 at 5:10 PM UTC
Everybody knows.
We've been here this whole time.
You're closer than you think-
Your address isn't hard to find.
Trapped alone and on display,
like all of us here.
Relinquish your seclusion
for a cheap opinion or two.
Reality fumbles
to keep up
with this consortium of bums
that look unto a crowd as if to see a mirror.
"Did you like it?"
"Yes, I thought it clever."
"But you don't like it?"
"I don't understand."
Divorce yourself
from the idea.
Grasping for straws.
If no one agrees, how can it be so?
Staring in the dark,
etching silhouettes on the wall.
Fooled into waiting
for anonymous approval.
How fragile our ego;
self-deprecate unless instructed otherwise.
Sing out loud, crave the applause;
drown in only the echo.
Jun 17, 2011
Jun 17, 2011 at 12:18 PM UTC
Cellulite
Carriage
Back *****
Sagging
Glass won't shatter
Lens can't demonize
Deprecate
Soft serve
Despise
Flesh form
I won't crumble
Just age
Gaze can't shatter gaze can't shatter
Gaze can't shatter
Me
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 5:38 AM UTC
Don’t deprecate the seductiveness of darkness.
Even flawless hearts are drawn to it.
The sight of blood Calls to me
A craving to take life
Blood dripping from your veins
The pulse of your heart beat
The breath from your lungs
To take it all away
To ****** you to my world
To make you
Vampire
The silence of your heart
That beats no longer
The air in your lungs silenced
The blood in your veins
No longer warm but cold
Death as welcomed you
Darkness as lured you
Like me blood is life to you
By black rose
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC
The sequence idles for a bit then undulates
shall I leave or stay wait for you to collapse
on me like a ton of bricks or a roiling wave
My starvation for your presence and the increasing
loneliness I have, palpitates its manifestation
on tear stained pages and overwhelmingly cheesy tropes
that make it seem so unbelievable, how did all
of my life here and the past lead me to be writing
all of these sentences to deprecate all my life's choices~
I am an armada with holes in its hull
a meteor burning up in the mesosphere
the girl you met sort of once and forever marked you
I'm insane for launching headlong into loving you
Life is passion and I have to have it~
clear skies and gantries releasing my rockethead into space
I just wish settling down was not the only stigma
that prevented your engagement in the leap of faith
and direct contact was all you wanted for all these nights
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 6:33 AM UTC
When, when I thought it was naught but conspiracy,
That it'd be comic, a joke, not a would-be plea,
Who, who'd hit and break, swung, a shillelagh,
Hard wood strength, a bludgeon, a sequence, simply plainly,
What, what roots from prejudice so inclined to the contrary,
Brought harm to one's self, a broken goal to be free,
How, how the past, beyond belief, it'll truly see,
Deprecate the future held deep beneath seas,
And finally,
One last breath that awakens a crisp and unveiled gaucherie,
Picked like grapes in a heavenly vinery,
Why? You tell me.
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 4:54 AM UTC
Sleep can't help me now. Nothing can help
me now. As many people care, and as sure as I am that the number of people that do care is less than or equal to zero, I still regret waking up every day. How hard is it to feel
When do the days grow into hours grow into grow in grow to the
top of the forest where the environment sways back and forth
on unstable ground where everything is constantly shifting
and sinking deeper and
deeper and
d
e
e
p
e
r, to the point where nothing even matters anymore and the only sounds anybody hears are just the bittersweet echoes of whatever ounce of sadness you still have saved for a special occasion. Represent the resentment that resides in the recesses of your wretched receptacle that reaches for any affection afflicted amorously to our attached arteries and alveoli and attend to any of our other needs. Remember not to cast asunder others or to deprecate mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers who should love one another for each other as well as the lovers who quiver and shudder at affection and attention reflected at their functioning conjunction of otherworldly love for one another. Know what you want and need and see to it that you get to be the best you could be and tell yourself to be free! Scream to your creators and scream to yourself that I, yes I can be whatever I want to be and whatever social constructions will not let me see, then I wish to be freed and I get down on both knees and pray to whomever will hear my dreams.
Know that there is no being more powerful in your life than you. You are the Alpha and Omega, the Logos and the Pathos, the Shakespeare and the Limp Bizkit. Everything that you ever want is an achievable aspiration, and all you need to do is know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know that when you grow old and frail and brittle that your body will ache with the experience of a person who has been to hell and back and maybe back to hell one more time because you were young and never learned. So play games, jump and run, dance and sing, do something you'd never do normally, try out for the play, play sports, write a poem, write a song, write anything at all, talk to people, talk to strangers, sleep for 4 hours instead of 8, sleep for 12 hours instead of 4, think and think and think until it drives you to drink and think some more. Know that you wish and wish to know that everything you want and need is obtainable and in your reach. Life is alive and wants you to live, so show Life respect and do what it wants you to do: Go.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 4:20 AM UTC
Here lies Maerius Lee,
she lived to be 103.
She kept her virginity till she was 15
She was very good for this vicinity.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:56 PM UTC
My Relations
Don’t know why and how ,
In my mother’s womb first ,
My shelter was destined with His trust .
Then on earth , -a strange place ,
Wondering eye ,hovering grace ,
Started my second phase .
Sense to things with name ,
Attraction’s ******* came.
Feeling and body began to play,
In the house of my earthly clay.
My dumb reflected on alphabet ,
Letter to sentence , opening gates .
Mother , father ,sky and bird ,
Came up as integral part .
The exposed nature with concrete form ,
And the thoughts of the past in bookish norm ,
Mates and teachers ,the warning bell ,
Entered in to my reforming cell.
Then in a cloudy and stormy morning ,
The drudgery of lively hood in me springs.
Tidal of love for fair *** ,
Cut my being with a sharp Axe .
A room within room ,
Sun rise and gloom ,
With new Me’s and She’s ,
Sprouted in my mid-day’s lease .
My negligence to my inherited friends ,
Resulted deprecate ,decay of strength .
They proved a threat to my worldly stay ,
And pushing me back to the invisible bay .
Now I seek what my relation is ,
If you can do it please .
No where no where whisper my soul,
A fool you are ,hence no goal !!!
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC
Dissociate
To deprecate defile reality uncertain
Drawn are curtains using l
Of mental metal mass produced perception broken compass lipblocked direction affection anntenaes through
Hippocampus can't this be a repeat
Record second scratchin me raw
Hit delete
Noxious talking called small
Bout the weather
I'm no flying machine
Stuck on cloud nine with desentzied time
Sundialing for conversation catch 22
Feeling cotton candy
Lack of oxygen
In-house run house round me
Living post patriarchal society
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 12:43 AM UTC
Impervious to the oscillating fans of time
It ran into all man made obstacles
The question burned on the final cross
“Were you the real master all this time?”
Until I staked it with the sword of progress
Soon enough, we turned into rats
A sense of humor was well written
Into the natural order of all things
But I still had to pick off dead skins
From my head onto the winds
Leading me to self-deprecate
I wondered, what was the point?
Grasping at that marage of me
Burning homework in fifth grade
Pillars of bright fuzzy bliss
Surrounded the flames around
I climbed and I climbed up one
Until I reached a pulsating hue
I touched it and the bell rang
I looked down to see superiors
Laughing, for I had to fall down
Then, I felt the rope burn
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 11:33 AM UTC
Do you choose or will you blame this on fate?
Your insolence is inescapable
And yet I allow thee to deprecate
Myself till I become incapable.
With such malice it cannot be legal,
Abusing ignorance, I must comply.
You call me chicken instead of eagle
So I dig, peck, and scratch when I could fly.
Departing once I realized your lies,
Fleeing with haste, there was zero forbearance.
So arrogant it took you by surprise,
that I did not heed your crude deterrence.
I will return one day, not to abhor
but to demonstrate, how high I can soar.
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 12:50 AM UTC
What if I can't look again?
Without disliking the words I say
I'm a manic
And the words in my head never truely translate
I wanna be a artist and create
Banish all forms of hate
That self deprecate
I wanna be happy and smile
But I can wait for a while
I'm impatient
But not like before
6am to see if Santa's called
Is this even good I question it all
But I've realised to move forward I have to scale every wall with due course.
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 11:32 AM UTC
I have lingered in the shadows of deceit
Where the bonds of love and kindness never meet
I have tasted every tear ever cried
In the face of honesty I have lied
I have let love slowly fade away
And arms stretched out in need I kept at bay
Acts of kindness and forgiving I did deprecate
Links to the past had sealed my fate
And I have cried alone
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 3:43 AM UTC
Am I offering myself a knife to the heart?
Have I unsheathed my dagger?
I think not, I think not
Have you accepted your role, your part?
Would you admit your weakness, your stagger?
I think not, I think not
Deprecate my sense of taste and saunter away
Did you think I'd lay down and take it?
I think not, I think not
Putting my life on hold every single day
Did you think I could fake it?
I think not, I think not
My soul is music, and my heart is sound
Could you feel my past haunting your remark?
I think not, I think not
I looked for your empathy, it couldn't be found
Did you care if your words were stark?
I think not, I think not
Let me tell you this one time
Will you listen to such a girl?
I think not, I think not
What's been taken, was always mine
Did you notice when you broke my world?
I think not, I think not...
May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 3:40 AM UTC
Someone should adore Attitude
someone would pour Multihued
someone should appreciate Madness
someone would deprecate Sadness
someone should defeat austerity
someone would breed prosperity
someone should expect hope
someone would accept wandering souls
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC