"deprives" poems
Welcome Back
You are the art.
Don’t you dare tear yourself apart.
Ripping away the “ugly” from your pulchritudinous body.
Don’t be a copy, of every other thin legged, supple lipped, big busted, media lusted women.
Don’t be Cheating yourself of the life you have to live. Deprives others of that only which you can give
Outlive the ugly in this society. One step out of the door, I know you can feel your anxiety.
Are you perfect enough???? Yes indeed you are!
You’ve come so far. You are more than what you think u are. Now Open up that spiritual jar, throw away the negativity.
You are no longer in captivity. You are free. You’ve found the key. To everlasting acceptance.
So pick yourself up beautiful, it’s crucial that you stop being so critical about your self-worth. Calibrate the rebirth of you.
Welcome back. x
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 7:22 PM UTC
When the wordly things get all the glory
You tend to live a life that's unholy.
Facing the life's painful reality.
Fight againt wicked principalities
Losing your sense of morality.
As you are procrastinating about Learning your biblical A...B...C's
You are counting up your salary
When you should be counting all of God's promises like 1...2...3..
Thats when it begins to Spread like an deadly ****** transmitted Disease
First its sniffle and a sneeze
Next is a cough and a wheeze
Then you'll Barely be able to breathe
Knocking you to your knees
Begging God, "Please Heal Me"
Praying desperately For His Mercy
Then the STD forcefully will begin to tightly squeeze.
Till it becomes an Infection that attacks your every function flowing like a virus.
This sickness removes the color from life and leave you like eyes with damaged to the nerves, pupil and Iris.
This happens when you Subtract Christ from your life like a math equation involving minus.
Being sticken with this ailment will deprives us, If we dont let Christ take the wheel to Drive and guide us.
This Infirmity is very cancerous
It will impact your 6 senses Just like the Symbol for The Eye Of Horous.
Because we are individuals who are like sponges, filled with holes, absorbant and yet very porous.
Beneath the fleshly being lies a spirit
Crying out for help can you hear it?
This deficiency will leave you Shivering from the Chill of it's swift wind's cold breeze
The very thought of this illness makes the soul freeze
Once it realizes it has a contracted a Spiritually Transmitted Disease.
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 3:49 PM UTC
Withered through these relinquished lips,
softly lays an embellished, embroidered, carcass.
Torn across flesh-like soil
caressing gently into this impermeable being,
you're only human.
So allowing in the presence of indigenous, oblique thoughts
slanting into the belly
never feeling so bare
the hunger deprives.
The nails of your eyes piercing into the forefront of mush you call a brain,
feeling the earth distinctively tremble with each step you chase closer to the ledge
Clutching onto the white knuckle breast
your hands pounding at your fingertips
its electric running through your veins
feeling it at the core
so helplessly, lost.
Your throat knots into one-thousand splinters
splicing relentlessly between your core
the wedge of your mortal body becomes noticeable to your soul
detaching,
jumping.
Slithering one step closer,
pull the rope
you leap
you rot
one more inch closer,
you can feel it
separating your surroundings from comfort ability
picking up between each breath
shaking at your own wake.
there you have it
at the brim of the edge
you've push yourself this close
whats one last jump out of this skin?
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 6:20 PM UTC
Tossing to and fro as if combating a hostile sea/ dark thoughts cloud the inner sanctum of my mind/ the distress, the bitterness, the anguish, the grief, the sadness, the lonliness, the unfathomably lustful pain/ that I face burn with the intensity of the fires of hell that await me/ Guardians of chaos; harvesters of damsels come for me that I drown in their sins/ rip the fabric of my consciousness asunder/ my ***** sing an aria of sorrow, listen to the requiem of the ****** a miasma of death flood my bowels/ decay enters my womb and I plunge deeper into madness/ I'm an error; a fault of life as the demonic servants consume my flesh for what feels like a eternity/ as we desend in to the pit of blasphemy, defilement, pagans, and idol worshippers/ he deprives my spirit of the rightousness, tears it from its mortal bond and it unfurls into a ethereal cloud of emptiness/ being ravaged my capture looks off in the distance as if performing an exhibition/ with every touch I feel dead inside all the while the nightmare watches with a disgustingly grim grin....
This was written for a art history class inspired by "The Nightmare" by Henry Fuseli
Tell me what you think of the interpretation!!
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 1:51 AM UTC
her strive for attention
deprives her actual intention
and she thrives off tension
but she feels alive with this pretension
and what I've failed to mention
its her contrive for perfection…of love
Jul 5, 2012
Jul 5, 2012 at 2:52 PM UTC
The empty spilling glass stands high,
Teasing the parched peasants.
Their tears water the arid ground they lie upon,
Etching on them their painful plight.
At home in the soaking cities,
Built on scraps left unused
By faces that don constant smiles
Because never had they need not to.
Those poor souls they pity as they wait
For a cause that ushers them to their safety
Of cushions and robes, that deprives them
Of time to give a much needed pauise
They fill up their glasses from the
sparkling pool made from those sun-drenched eyes.
Uncaring of its price, They selfishly retreat
To sip as they subside.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 9:21 AM UTC
LS: This place is desolate
Where darkness ***** at your pupils
And infuses your lungs with a cocktail
Of cold and despair
Amongst the mistletoe and bells ringing
You hear a quiet echo of
Isolation that has no shape
Unexplained, ever mysterious
Fearesome lack of a vital link
To hold your feet down on the plane
Familiar to countless faceless strangers
And familiar faces alike
Where willingly you could join
In a silly dance around the circle
Outlined many spiraling ages ago
And feel at ease and ONE
And to the sound of choral
I could fly up with crows
And see it all from
Unattainable
High
Up there in the milky clouds
But
Nature is so uniformally ordered and
Strange as it is no law contains
This spirit so eager to escape
WW: I hear the darkening silence echo
And drone in the northwood stillness.
The forest treetops lurching south
Into the memory of sunlight
Crowns bending unbroken,
Grasping unspoken,
To behold the waning daylight
While the spell of darkness cast deprives,
It opens up the craving soul
This is the naked truth,
This is the light
Oozing from graying monotone
Spilling from cracks between the pause,
Betwixt the shapeless lines of poetry’s refrain …
For life is not a work of art,
The colour a fleeting moment cannot last
And the paradise of going somewhere else
Still so far away
wildish
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 11:35 AM UTC
Numb feels ineptly
Nobody
Nothing
Empty.
Numb has a feeble spirit
Numb is numbing
Numb
******* needy
Numb
It runs swiftly
Flows freely
Numb
approaches the needy
Ever so quickly.
It thinks of him
And deprives me
Of breathing
Numb watches.
Stares.
It separates me, isolates.
Numb never cared.
Makes the bleak confiscate
Everything I hate
It thinks of him
And unnerves my limbs
Numb will find it
I cannot quit
The nowhere is near
Numb brings it here
Watching.
Sickly it's ever wanting
So enchanting
Why is It still alive?
Numb will realise
He must die
For me to be alive
Numb unfolds
Clamour of a dormant soul
The pleads
The need
Numb ever succeeds
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 6:18 PM UTC
Tonight... My slumber is a distant relative not even a pen pal can reach, but with each attempt I make to contact sleep, the line is disconnected by the rhymes haunting my upper room. Its like my stream of conscioussness is a bottle of liquor, the more I abuse the drug, the more it abuses my anatomy
Tonight... Sleep is my ex-wife I long to caress and attend to. She cries echoes of silenceas we are kept apart by this sadistic night that is lazily hanging over the sky, just waiting for my eyelids to align in holy matrimony, just to rip them apart again.
Tonight... Rhymes run free in my mind like emancipated slaves and they do their best to reach all corners of my minds landscape, making sleep an impoverished state
Tonight... I gaze into the darkness with pure desparation. My mind deprives me of sleep, yet it is what my soul wants most.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 3:33 PM UTC
On a pain scale 1-10 death is a 0.
Zero for the deceased and a ten for breathing.
Appreciation at 1 when they come & always a
10 when we're forced to watch them leaving.
Days are numbered for us, for the people we love, & the plants that gift us breathe.
Would you still care? Would you still crave that job? Would that heart break still hurt if the clock was almost done ticking & you knew you were facing death?
A scratch wouldn't sting If it simultaneously occurred along with a stab.
The small joy of a giggle loses its stimulation when placed next to a stomach squeezing laugh.
More and Less, More or less? The words are meant to be a measure of the amount of things, or people, but in reality they are the enhancement and suppression of appreciation.
Ten dollars is appreciated until twenty is seen. Take someone who complains about asthma as if it's the worse curse & diagnose them with cancer, they'll suddenly forget asthma is even involved in the situation.
More or Less are just synonyms for Better and Worse. Better makes us blind and numb to what we have, those joys we already feel; introduce worse & we no longer need Better to see these blessings.
Everyday we count things, we count everything except for the things that count, lack of appreciation deprives us from making the days count, & then we wish we could have them back once begin stressing.
We always want more of anything pleasureful we recieve when it's really appreciation that should be given and received with repititon.
Life is a gift but More or Less makes us mortal, makes us ungrateful, & turns life into a competition.
The day we cease to appreciate our lives because we fall victim to the perception of More we start to live less and less, before you know it you've died while you're still breathing.
Ultimately we need pain. It teaches us to appreciate & ignore the more, we must hurt before we benefit it's like a baby teething.
If you're alive, you're blessed, more or less.
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 11:21 AM UTC
Life crumbles my visions asunder,
Ignorance shoves me into clumsy blunder,
Love throws me into the zone of blinder,
Forgetting that I'm a Pathfinder.
When life deprives me off the briddle,
When everything seems to be a puzzle,
When my story goes like a riddle,
In grief, I hear life playing it's own fiddle.
Heavy weight makes my legs jiggle,
My blistered feet make me stumble,
But 'they' see me and chuckle,
While they used to praise me in hotels.
Engineering renders me a plater,
In my own house, am made a janitor,
I date a ****** city bunter,
Money in my life is a gutter.
Physique portrays me of a working Caliber,
So they ask "Do you work here?"
Yet behind the curtains am a begger,
A begger in fashioned attire.
Dec 30, 2018
Dec 30, 2018 at 2:44 AM UTC
millions on millions
spread all over the globe
of one entity
of one humanity
a collective
all part of a whole
each continent's populous
utilizing the resources
of the planet
these finite assets
fast dwindling
fast disappearing
humanity shall feel the strain
as the dawn of new days actuate
the water well
shall not replenish
in dryness it shall remain
humanity drinking too oft
from its vein
our orb
twas created
with a limited store
of things
to consume a humongous portion
deprives other mouths of offerings
sustainability
is humanities
only hope
to keep gorging
to keep being gluttonous
shall eventuate
in humanities
overreaching
whereupon
the siren of a precipice
signals
humanities
termination
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
Maybe by luck, By chance maybe,As fast as a duck, to my heart it came to be. Though too much for me to **** I decided to let it be.
Separated by milliometers, divided by ductness. Sought and fought by haters, held stronger by heartlessness. Inside bright as stars, outside dull with hollowness. What it says deters and deprives of happiness.
I ran along by fate, to get it to be my mate. Solemnly my pride I ate, and to it I opened my gate. By luck it ****** my bait, and it I managed to get. Though it said to me wait, my fears to it I let. Because I feared to be late, an early bird myself I met. Thanks to my fearful date, undilligently I made it against its hate.
A wired soul, creased heart, a skinned spirit, playing foul, sins fat, found out about it. Serenity bowl, what a flirt. Did I mind it? Offcourse I did. Gabbered heat and thought myself a *** With a mighty haul, i unhooked my love and away I got swift.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 4:06 AM UTC
When people ignore you,
You're more free to do what you wish to do,
Because you'll owe no one any explanation,
So craving attention,
Sometimes just deprives us of the sight to look past our "limitation"
Its beneficial to be alone at times,
Think about life,make those rhymes,
Its needed,
Moments of silence and thorough thinking are required,
For self development,
And mental improvement.
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 6:00 PM UTC
The solemn trees stand bare and dry
In misery, immersed
The angels, o’er the heavens high
Shed tears to quench their thirst
Once all Earth cried in pain for life
Each angel shed a tear
From gray the clouds to end such strife
Endured in winters ere’
And blessed the trees that now stand tall
Renewed for now they drank
For Heavens high, the angels all
In renewal now they thank
Once again when winter, arrives
And knocks on spring’s bright door
And the winds, sharp, life all deprives
The angels shed once more
To quench the thirst of the deprived
Each dried and parched-out leaf
The thirst of spring that had arrived
And brought upon relief
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 8:52 PM UTC
Hissing Cat! Why does your back rise up and chaff the sky?
This "ready to rise up and claw" attitude deprives you as much as it protects you.
Are you that fragile?
Has the creator not given you choice? Inspiration? Intellect?
Yes?!
Then why are you so hesitant to use them?
Is your life so right? So perfect? So full?
You have no need for the joy of expansion?
I wonder...
What if your fear, Kitty Cat, is not of the unknown?
But of the known.
We have drank in indifferent and contemptuous looks.
And be they assuming or aloof,
Or be they from those we love and know or from those we admire and want in our lives...
Who ever they come from, they leave a bitter taste.
Yes, it's hard not to care or let it affect you but this is your life Catherine Ann.
Your one wild and precious life.
God gave you the heart of an Adventurer!
An Explorer!
So do it!
And trust in the Creator
And trust in you
And trust that Love will always find you no matter where you find yourself.
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 12:44 PM UTC
Summer came , summer goes
The heat shrouding still
I abhor the upcoming cold
Which deprives my
Joy,vigorousness and skimpy shorts
I'll have to wait for another year to
Cautiously bathe myself in the sunlight
While you skip dipping in Adriatic sea
Oh, the Sun in Zagreb,
You
Greeting summer into your doorsteps
Stealing golden ray to embellish the handcrafted box you made
Autumn comes and it will go
Fear not for the winter but for my brewing hope.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 11:06 AM UTC
His fingers tap dance on the wooden table
As thoughts scramble within his mind.
His eyes are fixed to the bare wall, perchance,
A divine message will be transcribed.
Misfortune has pestered him for quite a while,
Out of all people it is he who must weep.
He demands an explanation to the misery
That deprives him of most wanted sleep.
But behold, a silver quill takes form before him
And hovers to the bare wall across the room.
With swift strokes it writes with moonlight ink
One ambiguous four-letter word: SOON…
The man almost falls from his chair, all color
Flushed from his weathered face.
What’s the meaning of this sorcery?
What is this “SOON” that awaits?
Will my troubles finally leave me?
Will there be no more sleepless nights?
Or will I soon meet my maker
Who will compensate for my bitter, bitter life?
Shouts interrupt his inquiry followed by
The sound of shattered glass.
The man looks out the window to investigate,
Indeed there's a raging riot amid dense tear gas.
The smell of smoke meet his nostrils, and he
Realized his humble home has caught on fire!
This cannot be! The man exclaimed to the heavens,
Just when there’s hope, the flames climb higher!
He fled from his home, his last possession now a pile
Of ashes, the memories inside consumed and forgotten.
Watching in horror as chaos envelops him, the man’s
Knees buckle, laying on the ground defeated and broken.
Are you okay? asks a little girl, her hand on his shoulder.
The man turns to the silver haired girl and is taken aback
By her angelic visage, which instantly melts his anguish,
Filling the void with the peace and hope he lacked.
His eyelids become heavy and falls into a deep slumber.
He awoke in a hospital bed a few days later,
Greeted by the doctor and a company of lawyers.
Sir, we found something very peculiar among the ashes
Of your home, a chest abound with silver coins and a note.
The man took the note which had one word in moonlight ink,
A word so alien to the man, the word was: BELIEVE
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 9:11 PM UTC
I decided to run on this grassy plain
Spreading my arms and hoping to stay sane
I imagined myself as a bird, at home in the sky
I thought maybe his words wouldn't reach me if I went real high
Oh how I would like to fly
I buried myself so his darkness couldn't seek
I thought maybe his madness had finally reached its peak
The hangman is so articulate when it comes to games such as this
He checked every grave and I only had a short lived bliss
Oh how I wish I never gave him my kiss
I needed to overcome this man
I searched desperately for a new plan
I hiked for miles up a mountainous path
I felt inner peace and sunlight at last
Oh how nice, but the sun was soon consumed by the blackness of his wrath
Beautful innocent man, don't come to close to me
But I want him closer so I can see
He has so much inner brightness
While I'm clouded by the hangman who deprives me of lightness
Still I want the sunny man and all his kindness
Dec 17, 2021
Dec 17, 2021 at 8:42 AM UTC
Play along my sweet, sweet horn
For all the hearts are torn
Carry on a note so long
In your sad forgotten song
Now play along my sweet, sweet string
And let them hear you sing
Move your bows ever so gently
And watch them listen intently
Now play along my sweet sweet flute
And watch them all salute
Your lovely voice soft as rain
Deprives them of their pain
Now play along my sweet, sweet bell
For you always play so well
Show the world your soft tone
Because you’re all alone
Now play along my sweet, sweet bass
Just to give them a taste
Of your low mellow chord
And get them all on board
Now play along my sweet, sweet sax
But be mindful of those flats
Play it jazzy and so smooth
And take away the ruth
Now play along my sweet, sweet drum
And make the crowd go numb
You careful steady beat
Will lift them off their feet
Now play along my sweet, sweet chime
And freeze us all in time
The hollowness of your sound
Always in the background
Now play along my sweet trumpet
And match up with the cornet
Now join all the rest of you
And along to this merry tune
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 8:56 AM UTC
*She's tired of fighting
To keep her soul's fire alive,
She's been in a constant battle
Just trying to survive.
Overdrive,
Overdrive,
She's totally over
The long, hard road, drive,
Always giving,
Whilst her needs
She deprives.
Nosedive,
Nosedive,
Her heart and mind
Are taking a plunge,
A freeing, freefall dive,
She's tired
Of letting the backstabbers
Take advantage of her;
She's over the malicious way
That they conspire and connive.
By Lady R.F (C) 2017*
May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 5:49 AM UTC
All those empty boxes of our lives
are like those things love deprives.
Our minds and hearts can't bear the pain
if in all we see there's nothing to gain.
And how cold it is without any friends
who don't pursue or share similar ends.
The days are bleak and fleeing past
before our eyes can make them last
and the nights are all needless to say
just like dark shadows of each day.
If we find it hard to make ends meet
thoughts in our mind are not discreet.
Yet life could be better or worse still
when we follow all those who thrill
and captivate us with their own ways
making us believe them as in a daze.
Particularly when we see in their faces
something that we're lacking in places.
How strange it is and so true to say
that life goes on regardless anyway.
It often comes as no surprise to me
when the people around fail to see
we are all living on common ground
and only have empty boxes to sound.
_____________________
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 11:51 PM UTC
He sprinkles salt in my wounds, gently, as every word digs deeper and deeper
He deprives my life of flavor, saving it like ammo for the next fresh water war
He buries me in a pile of crystals
Shining, sparkling, dazzling, until they dehydrate every ounce of ambrosial hope
He throws salt over his shoulder for 'good luck', leaving anything and everything behind him burning, withering
Like binging and purging, the ocean rolling in and out, he's suffocating me under what he claimed was sugar
Like the mastermind behind water-boarding, he jerks me left and right, pure and tainted, innocent and soiled
He promises that this time it's Confectioner's
He promises the water he's leading me to is fresh
But every time it's salt
And I'm the definition of insane, constantly falling for the same look in his eyes, the same half smile
And every grain is one hundred lies,
And every grain brings another ten-year war
Sodium chloride might as well be cyanide
Simple table salt bottles may as well be containers of gunpowder
We're fighting through the desert, sand turned into his favorite compound
We're losing, bleeding, lacerated, with only his promises as bandages
I'm betrayed by my own body, as I wipe my tears and realize their chemical makeup
I'm trying to explain why I panic if my dish is too salty, why I panic if I'm near the ocean
I'm rebuilding my pallet, substitution after substitution
I'm learning to use other spices
I'm remembering the taste of a simpler world.
I'm washing over my scars with water I filtered myself.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 10:15 PM UTC
Holy pages ripped from a sacred spine,
****** out your blood and spilled your wine.
Mopped it up with sanctified script,
Leaving divine lexis left to encrypt.
Hypocritical followers with justified wrongs,
Unjustified sinners to worship reverence songs,
An attempt to make it through without harm,
A set of prolongs left to disarm.
What about the advocates who push unworthy guilt,
Yet redefine corruption in the place their faith built?
What about those who are prosecuted for living their lives,
Put on trial for wine spilt, and other wine-like deprives?
Nov 18, 2011
Nov 18, 2011 at 1:06 PM UTC
To only value goodness in the human being deprives one of perceiving the vast and rich realities of the human soul.
KT Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 11:03 AM UTC