"deprived" poems
Maybe it's for you but not for me, but who knows?
When will the time stop and give way to the paradoxical space that will shove the soul out of its life, eventually?
Tend to think that the archetypal white collar worker is what you should be before you delve into the reality?
Jumped into the ripest chord of a void song, and you found nothing but truth and perplexity?
Threw yourself into the wilderness but you are still deprived of happiness, only peace, filled with emptiness?
Crashed the mental into bi-polarizing set of uncertainty and sanity, driving everything towards the ravine of confusion and misinterpretation?
Dropped the last sweat of joy and contentment before you discover the eventuality, pessimistic value of the whole context?
Until the ultimate full stop appears, will you understand what is the whole story is all about?
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 6:56 AM UTC
Polite
Typical
Smiley
Daughter
Pointlessly
Trusting
School
District
Professor
Turns-blind-eye
Struggling
Drastically
Packets
Turn-to
Stacks
Deficient
Panic Attacks
Turn-to
Self
Destruction
Pulling
Teeth
Sick
Design
Plans
To
Stop
Discussing
Peace
To-her
Silence
Disturbs
People
Talked
She
Distracted
Passed
The
Snacks-to
Dinners
Pulled
The
Same
Dimensions
Pre-K
Then
Smaller
Didn't
Pause
Third-Grade
So
Dead
Parents
Though
She
Drowned
Piled
Thoughts
Suffocated-her
Dexterity
Patient
There
Suffering
Depression
Problems
To-many-to
Score
Dispute
Progress
That
Shockingly
Developed
Potentially
Taken-away-the
Suffering
Dramatically
Poor
Tiny
Sweet
Doll
Part
Traumatized
Sleep
Deprived
Phobic
though
Sixth grade
Doesn't
Play
Though
Six-Years-of
Death
Until... The little girl, learned she had,
Post
Traumatic
Stress
Disorder
and, school treating her badly is only one of her three traumatizing events.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 7:59 PM UTC
They put me in the oven to bake.
Me a deprived and miserable cake.
Feeling the heat I started to bubble.
Watching the others I knew I was in trouble
They opened the door and I started my life.
Frosting me with a silver knife.
Decorating me with candy jewels.
The rest of my batch looked like fools.
Lifting me up, she took off my wrapper.
Feeling the breeze, I wanted to slap her.
Opening her mouth with shiny teeth inside.
This was the day this cupcake had died.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 10:10 AM UTC
I’m learning the new language of love
It’s cloudy and I’ve only
broken sentences
already-fluent in the tongue of
drunk hook-ups and
meaningless touches and
compromised endeavors and
disguised intentions
I have never felt what I was promised
I want to bathe myself in it
showers
pools
seas
of infatuation
if it exists
desperate for affection
addicted to the idea
that a soul could long for me
craving something
anything
unreliable arousal
am I unfairly deprived?
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 7:30 PM UTC
You were born near the warm ocean,
grew up around there,
With your clear acrylic smile
and sun-kissed blonde hair
I, the winter cold
More north than I can remember,
We met that day you visited,
a brisk chill, that December
We drank and danced,
while the years passed over
Argued and grew apart,
our greatest fears, now sober
My memories of you, once treasured
Now, faded
as sun deprived lands complain,
Forever, jaded
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 2:04 PM UTC
When I too long have looked upon your face,
Wherein for me a brightness unobscured
Save by the mists of brightness has its place,
And terrible beauty not to be endured,
I turn away reluctant from your light,
And stand irresolute, a mind undone,
A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight
From having looked too long upon the sun.
Then is my daily life a narrow room
In which a little while, uncertainly,
Surrounded by impenetrable gloom,
Among familiar things grown strange to me
Making my way, I pause, and feel, and hark,
Till I become accustomed to the dark.
18.6k
1632
So give me back to Death—
The Death I never feared
Except that it deprived of thee—
And now, by Life deprived,
In my own Grave I breathe
And estimate its size—
Its size is all that Hell can guess—
And all that Heaven was—
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I met a gypsy couple the other day
In the park of course
They were a lovely, beautiful mess
Trucked in right from Santa Cruz
They loved lots
Only four days
Her car stuck in some lot
I laughed a bit
I had to admit
I too
Knew the feeling
Being stranded
Deprived
Wrecked
Solititude
I gladly changed their tune
Convinced them tomorrow
Come noon
They'd notice a chance of attitude
Another chance at eternity
A moment devine
And poetic as the last
There's no such thing as time?
We're all actors in a grand tragedy
Lost gypsy couple and believers of
Tiny miracles
Completing
Relieving
Resolving
Appreciating the tiny moments
Of eternity
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 4:03 AM UTC
An idiot is harmless,
Until that idiot falls in love,
Then they’re willing to do anything,
For the person they’re in awe of.
Whether its building a new world,
Or burning the old one down,
They’ll stop at nothing,
To give their love a crown.
Now if that love fades,
And they are left weeping,
They could take one of two paths,
Both will leave an empty heart unsleeping.
Path one is war and rampage,
Destroy everything in their way,
Path two is depression and tears,
They may cause their own doomsday.
Either way an idiot is harmless,
Until that idiot falls in love,
And if you happen to cross that idiot,
Beware for they do not care, they are deprived of---------
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 3:02 AM UTC
.
*Curious minds,
splashing under
moonlight
With
outstretched kisses
pulsating yellow,
Over the awestruck
magical
rainbow,
Feverishly tracking each
supernova
on sight.*
***Resting the moment
on a
cresting knoll,
With
an audience of several
time-worn
rocks.
Whilst the
whistling sirens
in the winds do call...
Wasting away
the ticks of
worldly
clocks.***
*Evading with class,
all
heart's turbulence,
Craters of sadness
congeal
in thin air,
Glamorous amnesia
falls
with cadence,
Eyes wide shut,
susurrating
a
lost prayer.*
***Lifeless gazes
yield
only
abrasive tears.
As erratum
catches up
with its
gaping maw.
Hurling
its anguish
in
rips and shears,
Bleeding out
of
singing wounds
so raw.
But...
time carries confident,
its stock of
soothing balm.
Latent doses
hidden
within
invisible vials.
Welcoming vision
with its
sunlit palms,
Staving the longing
for the
fear of trials.***
*Now hushed
remain the remorseful
battle trenches,
Deprived of their own
victims
save gaping wounds,
Only
faint faith
commanding
corroded limp
forces,
Stirring
light away
from
all
agony
and
doom.*
Moonskittles
ryn
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 6:40 AM UTC
See, you hear this word and shiver
While some of us get problems of the liver
yup! Exams are what I'm talking about
The reason pupils start howling about
Oh exams! What do we do with you
As it approaches, students be like
A reaction no one ever seen like
In our dreams like a monster sneaks up
Within our soul like Death creaps up
Oh exams! What do we do with you
That one night before exam burden
Reminds me of the war of verdun
Only if had books borrowed or lend
All night were the eyes to suspend
Oh exams! What do we do with you
That, to be murdered day arrived
Of peaceful sleep were we deprived
When the exam hall were we to enter
Shot a bullet shrapnel in the center
Dead were we when we turned the paper
Those questions turned us into vapor
Students like us had two or three attempted
Handed over those 2 sheets and left all exempted
Oh exams! What do we do with you
You're welcome, now to hell with you
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 3:49 AM UTC
Lost is the African pride
Gone are those who could ride the tide
Left are those who drown beneath the wave
Prone to dehumanization because of greed
I see burning buildings
Mutilated bodies
Escalating violence
And social unrest
Lost is the Spirit of Ubuntu
Left is a society deprived of its integrity
Selfishness and poverty is at the core of our society
Is the real Africa lost to antiquity?
Crime is rife as people strive for a decent life.
A decent life earned through decadence
Should we stone foreigners because the government is failing to provide employment?
Or should we burn down buildings so that our voices can be heard?
I am ashamed of the profanity we breed
It’s a calamity for us to be xenophobic
It’s a taboo for us to call Africans foreigners in their motherland.
It’s not who they are.
It’s not who we are
It’s not who you are
It’s not who I am
Together we are the Africa that has survived slave trade
The Africa that has survived apartheid
The Africa that has survived colonization
The Africa that is surviving westernization
We don’t fight for employment
We create employment
We don’t breed resentment
We translate sentiments
Let us evoke the Spirit of Ubuntu
And let’s behave like men not animals
Let us ignite the Spirit of Ubuntu
And let’s stand like men immortal
The Spirit of Ubuntu is what separates us from animals
Terrorism shouldn’t exist in Africa
It’s a disgrace for us to be unethical
Xenophobia shouldn’t be heard in Africa
Animosity is not our portion
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 6:28 AM UTC
*When I was small
I walked on fairy dust and
my dreams were as tall
as skyscrapers towering
above the universe
inside of me, was the galaxy.
I was born of the cosmos,
full of light and love
passionate in my quest to
give this to others.
But as I grew my star began to fade,
stars need love and light to survive
and deprived of both my blazing fire
transformed into weak candlelight.
At school I had learnt it was easier
to hide your light
than to stand out as different
and be extinguished in an instant.
So I kept myself to myself
at the back of the class,
knowing the answers but not
shouting them out.
I daydreamed, and doodled
stars on the corners
of my books, all the while
I could hear the universe
calling out to me to trust,
that we are all born of this
cosmic stardust.*
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 7:55 AM UTC
Ah, the season of gifting.
Antagonist of year-long thrifting.
Tradition sadistic,
Materialistic,
Four quarters in pockets worth sifting.
This year I hereby proclaim
I shan’t be consumed by the game.
Cycle of curse
Purpose perverse
The namesake, an oversight became.
Christ’s birth did in fact begin,
Holiday distracted by sin.
Misguided it be
To forget idly
The sacrifice He made for all men.
We naively regard generosity
As holiday’s behavioral piosity.
But if dollars and cents
Are the tools of offense
Over shadow favor luminosity.
Water in Africa is *****
American child in poverty.
Politics aside,
Convenient homicide,
To enable the ills of society.
In the global economy we flaunt
Wealth by comparison, bitter taunt.
First world problems abound
Pass the turkey around
Central heating and air, what a jaunt!
What if this season we decide
To extend two palms open wide?
Sacrificing ourselves
Rather than stocking our shelves
Dying whispers echo true: “we tried.”
Don’t spend your money on me this year.
Not iPhones, not tickets, not Blu-ray or beer.
Instead know you can
Distribute more than
A snort, a lie, and a tear.
(optional conclusion to assist interpretation of last line)
Snort of derision,
Lies of provision,
Tears, even true,
Hardly subdue
Anguish deprived of tradition’s revision.
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 5:25 PM UTC
*This view from my window
Its why I moved in
This view from my window
Has kept me in
This view from my window shows a world of hope
This view from my window disables me to cope
This view from my window allows me to stay inside
This view from my window
Allows me to hide
From the ouside world
Im kept safe inside
But it is from my inside that I must hide
Im pushindg and trying to get up and out
From this view from my window
Please let me out
Incapacitated, rejected, scorned , and deprived
Of what this view from my window has on the other side*
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
To raise
humble kid
is my priority.
I can
Make my CHILD learn
-
By preaching
By teaching
By giving
Knowledge of
Sharing
Caring
Loving
But...
She will not learn
by preaching!!
Rather
She will learn
By my ACTIONS..!!
If I don't
Share MY things
With My
Friends
Neighbours
Siblings
Cousins
She will learn NOTHING..!
*I can make her
learn to share.
By making her give -
Clothes to needy
Toys in orphanage
Candies to the deprived.
*
But by GIVING
she will
just learn to be PROUD
Rather
If she learns by
seeing me
SHARING
She will become HUMBLE..!!
To raise a humble kid is my priority..!!
Sparkle In Wisdom
11 Jan 2019
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 3:05 PM UTC
Running, running, faster, faster, harder, farther, pushing my limits
The rush of adrenaline floods my veins
Pushing me farther, faster
Making the cold air burn my face.
The closest thing I have to taking flight,
My dream
My dream that has been in the works for eight years now
Now, almost ready to be put into motion
A motion that must be completed once its started
And I've finally started to break away.
Jump, leap, reach for the sky.
My wings are ready,
And so am I.
Smooth, sleek, powerful in design
Just waiting for a spark
The allowance to fly.
Golden tipped feathers, all perfectly aligned
Tone wings from practice
Just waiting for a sign.
Planning, preparing my wonderful escape
Many years of planning, making sure of no mistakes.
The situation thought through
Run, leap, and fly.
It sounds so simple, but that is far from the truth.
Riding on this moment,
Every anxious hour spent crying in pain,
Just waiting to see the world from a freer point of view.
Failure leads to more waiting, and that just won't do.
The first try must work,
I'll make it to the clouds,
Just watch me.
The world will be mine.
The moon, the clouds, tired, sleep deprived joy.
The sights of the world I've only heard of before
Before I saw it rush under me below.
The music of the world
Singing the opening to it's show.
The wind in my ears, fire in my blood
I can only dream of what it will be like flying so close to the sun.
690 days until I can take flight.
690 days of planning it right.
It can soon be mine,
I will be free!
But until then
I fly at night,
with my love
but only in dreams.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 9:47 PM UTC
One thread came loose with alcoholism at a very young age.
She recovered. She forgot and proceeded.
One thread was yanked loose by a growing tendency to self sabotage.
She clawed her way out of the spiral.
One thread pulled at others when she learnt she didn’t need alcohol to have a good time.
She felt deprived by self-restraint. So she slightly caved.
One thread burned along with her personality when she became a stoner again.
She was suffocated yet high.
One thread was singed by ****
She fell back into her ***** habits. She found herself here, but not quite present.
She became dependant. As she flooded her body parts with superficial happiness, just a quick release, her mouth grew dry. Then the peeling skin on her stained lips began to stick together and she regressed into a still and faded silence. In the end, she was in shreds and blissfully unaware, alone with nothing but one solitary thread left to grasp at.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 7:30 PM UTC
I sometimes fear the younger generation will be deprived
of the pleasures of hoeing;
there is no knowing
how many souls have been formed by this simple exercise.
The dry earth like a great scab breaks, revealing
moist-dark loam--
the pea-root's home,
a fertile wound perpetually healing.
How neatly the green weeds go under!
The blade chops the earth new.
Ignorant the wise boy who
has never rendered thus the world fecunder.
8.6k
The fatigue flows through me
As if it has invaded the marrow of my bones
Leaking out into the flesh
Rendering me paralyzed in an unfocused state
I sleep to live and wish only to end the dulled mind set
It’s crushing to find that shard of thought
Urging me to get up
Do not sleep, it whispers
There is too much to do, the insidious trails of ideas speak
The words taken down seek to undo the restlessness
The blurred vision of the time slipping past in red numbers
Sleep, my body cries
Wait a minute more, my mind calls back
Sleep deprived with burning eyes
A single tear breaks the tie
I cannot go on
Sleep calls me back
Pulling me down to the place I cannot ignore anymore
Sleep, my body whispers
Sleep, my mind sighs
cc111911
Nov 22, 2011
Nov 22, 2011 at 11:49 PM UTC
*
How many times we starved ourselves
dreaming something that we can’t have…
How many times we deprived ourselves
from wanting the life we wanted the most
just because we lack something or
having the practical mind that it is not for us…
Sometimes we starved ourselves to limit our flight.
Bound by rules, responsibilities, duties,
or even culture, tradition and religion…
Despite all that, we balance everything
for what’s right, what feels right
The Weighing of the Heart ---
*
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
773
Deprived of other Banquet,
I entertained Myself—
At first—a scant nutrition—
An insufficient Loaf—
But grown by slender addings
To so esteemed a size
’Tis sumptuous enough for me—
And almost to suffice
A Robin’s famine able—
Red Pilgrim, He and I—
A Berry from our table
Reserve—for charity—
7.7k
dearer to me than my heart
dearer to me than my soul
and i bleed
I lose
with my heart and soul
Inflicting pain, sorrows
griefs -- endless remorse
Once my homeland was pure
it was freed from blood
****** insensitivity
once my homeland was free of evil inhabitants
sorrows multiplied a thousand fold
gathered in pain-inflicted tears
with lump in throats
distant from your presence
i cry-- for your loss
On the rooftops of tragedies, my heart sink more
like an orphan, an abandoned child
my homeland bleeds
i scream within
i feel the abandonment
dearer to me than my own voice
dearer to me than my own eyes
and i am silent
I am blind
losing my sight, losing my voice
as my voice can't reflect the pain i feel
my eyes can't cry any more
reflecting ocean of deprived
once my homeland was free of pain
people were safe
we running like rivers
do not say it
our country was a flesh in body
now it is a dead body amongst many flesh
forgotten the promises
forgotten the true colors
in the name of revenge, we humiliate humanity
my intention is not to write poems
in my soul, i embrace nights long
this land absorbed wounds, tears
blood, fights, and many martyrs
who are forgotten
my country is our hope
we are growing in broken shadows
this siege is waiting us to drown us
in the middle of lonesome warrior
nobody can feel in absence of love
who are incapable to feel
to take, to absorb
love require us to cry, to embrace
today our homeland is deprived
abandoned, bleeding
she is under siege
as we forgotten to love
we deprived her of her loyalty
we deprived her of her love
we deprived her of her true lovers
My homeland I feel your pain
in my heart I carry all with me
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC
How can you contain a storm
Because I've tried all these years
I've deprived myself of all things
Just to keep my mind clear
It seems like it's getting worse
I can't help but be frozen with fear
I just wanted to build a snowman
But I have to miss it every year
For once I want to let go
Of these gloves, my mental chains
If I suppress it, it only grows
I don't want to hurt her again
I'm afraid of keeping this coldness inside
That it will stay and freeze my heart too
Alone and afraid, trying to maintain this lie
When was the last time I said anything true?
I'm afraid of myself most of all
How can I fit in this society?
When I cannot be who I am
Without remorse, rejection and anxiety
I'm afraid the longer I'm away from her
I'll lose my last bit of warmth
That I will soon be cold-hearted
Then I will never stop the storm
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 1:32 AM UTC