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"detracting" poems
Let's hold out hope for the crippled. Hope for the crippled? No thanks, this crip doesn't need your hope. This crip needs you to stop. Stop labeling me. Stop feeling sorry for me. Stop pitying me and my 'poor life' Just ******* stop! No, really, I'm okay. I don't need you. I don't need you or your miracles. Don't tell me God works miracles And to hold out hope Because maybe one day I'll walk Or maybe I'll get to see from both eyes Because God works miracles But you're too busy fixing what isn't broken that you forget If I was truly made in his image this crip doesn't need healed. This crip doesn't need your prayers or miracles. This crip doesn't need your God or your salvation. This crip doesn't need your hope. Poor soul, she's diminished by her disability. Diminished by my disability? The only thing I'm diminished by Is your inability to understand That before anything else I am human. I make mistakes and have flaws. I feel, probably more than most, And sometimes those feelings get in the way. I empathize but I am done sympathizing. You say my wheelchair is a blessing in disguise. Why can't it just be a blessing? A blessing that comes with lots of lessons. Some that I learn the hard way and some that come easy. But this wheelchair doesn't need a reason To teach me (or you) a lesson. Sure, it frustrates me when a wheel breaks or I fall on a broken sidewalk But it teaches me humility and patience. And there's no reason to disguise that this wheelchair is a blessing. So, please take your hope and pity Your guilt and salvation elsewhere Because they're defeating the purpose. They're detracting from the point. I am not diminished by my disability. I am not to be quieted or pitied I am not your reason to feel guilty I am not a burden I am human.
0
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
Human
Let's hold out hope for the crippled. Hope for the crippled? No thanks, this crip doesn't need your hope. This crip needs you to stop. Stop labeling me. Stop feeling sorry for me. Stop pitying me and my 'poor life' Just ******* stop! No, really, I'm okay. I don't need you. I don't need you or your miracles. Don't tell me God works miracles And to hold out hope Because maybe one day I'll walk Or maybe I'll get to see from both eyes Because God works miracles But you're too busy fixing what isn't broken that you forget If I was truly made in his image this crip doesn't need healed. This crip doesn't need your prayers or miracles. This crip doesn't need your God or your salvation. This crip doesn't need your hope. Poor soul, she's diminished by her disability. Diminished by my disability? The only thing I'm diminished by Is your inability to understand That before anything else I am human. I make mistakes and have flaws. I feel, probably more than most, And sometimes those feelings get in the way. I empathize but I am done sympathizing. You say my wheelchair is a blessing in disguise. Why can't it just be a blessing? A blessing that comes with lots of lessons. Some that I learn the hard way and some that come easy. But this wheelchair doesn't need a reason To teach me (or you) a lesson. Sure, it frustrates me when a wheel breaks or I fall on a broken sidewalk But it teaches me humility and patience. And there's no reason to disguise that this wheelchair is a blessing. So, please take your hope and pity Your guilt and salvation elsewhere Because they're defeating the purpose. They're detracting from the point. I am not diminished by my disability. I am not to be quieted or pitied I am not your reason to feel guilty I am not a burden I am human.
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46
Body lights and the obtuse A crooked branch acting Quickly as a noose detracting In alumnus' eyes and trepidation The all too obscene becomes normality A fallacy of epic notoriety Drawn to conspiracy and altruism And banality Fools' boring ruse And tumble Fatality
0
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 12:00 AM UTC
Hazardous by cp
Destract me, quickly I'm starting to see... I don't want to feel nothing I don't want to be empty Everything is detracting me I'm starting to see... I don't want to feel anything I just want to be clean
0
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 10:43 PM UTC
Destract Me
If you don't ever try You might never live Worst you can do is die Blessed with death to give Words contrived to fruition Climb upon my shoulders Take a look at new ambition Papers finally free from folders Thoughts magically transformed to verse Imagery and idolatry bleed ink to prose Detracting my distraction is another curse Explanations obscured as frustration grows King of the world today, ever so omnipotent Afflicting Memories distance away and fade Wake up tomorrow and could be impotent Clutched to a beautiful creature in the shade
0
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 4:12 AM UTC
Experients
It's a fragile balancing act To stay on track With all these Attractions Detracting From my Distractions impact Its impact On the blurring depictions Of pictures burned In fictions past Frames so perfect They cracked
0
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 10:20 PM UTC
Abstract
Its a fragile balancing act, to stay on track, with all these attractions detracting from my distractions impact, on the blurring depictions of pictures burned in fictions past.
0
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 8:43 AM UTC
Faces Fading
I could see fragility in her eyes I had never seen there before For my friend always smiles, always has counsel for others, always there, even when she is hurt this is different, painful too see Too try to explain that look in any child’s eyes would be almost impossible Lost, empty, fearful, distraught Seeing it in a grown woman’s face was no different. Week by week I see her face It counts down in anguish, like a clock Irony some call our faces clocks! But I swear it counts down with each view, the sadness weighs the skin, and the eyes try to hide the hurt Not detracting from her beauty, oh no At fifty she still has the looks of a woman a decade younger, at least, and the body to complement that, but her voice is her jewel Listening to her sing has brought laughter and tears to many, but, I digress I can't help the one who helps everyone else The one who always does her bit and more and more often for the unappreciative I just listen To watch one you love leave this world is agony To watch a parent, unimaginable, slow and heartbreaking The fragility in those eyes is love in its entire splendor The tears for a man who only ever gave, she was one of his greatest gifts Soon he will leave and leave behind a precious heart One of the kindest I have ever known But those eyes I don't think will ever be the same But look closely for another star will twinkle in them That light carries on
0
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 4:26 PM UTC
Love for a father
I want it so bad I can taste it, So much that me teeth ache with it. I see it each and everyday And my mind keeps those thoughts on replay. It's in my hands, they tremble and shake, It's in my legs, standing on a land of earthquakes. Life might hold some deeper meaning to you, That there's a final use for all that school, But this right here - the music - is it for me. I can't see past it, there's no other way. So though I love you, I must say, Babe, all you do is get in the way, Distracting and detracting from the final goal. Something like that I just can't stand for, so Please - because I asked - move. You and I, its just not the same groove. If it's meant to be, we'll get back someday, But I can't put you through the rejection again. When I'm following my path this way, It hurts and breaks me beyond inside. I feel my walls, my soul, being torn. Believe my words when I tell you - It's better this way - When you've gone yours and I mine. You'll move on to another who's better, Someone who will give you what you deserve, Because, for the time being at least, I will assuredly give you less, And God knows you were born for the best. So, leave me please, but don't forget me. I'll be back for you someday, But at the moment, it's just better this way.
0
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 12:58 AM UTC
How It's Meant To Be
Would it be insensitive and unkind to say I don’t like letters enclosed with Christmas cards? Usually they glow with all the lovely and bright things in the family that make parents proud. You don’t hear about the dark underbelly of their lives that would likely ruin your Christmas mood. I suppose that is a gift.  But it seems so unreal.   My wife wrote one this year. It is mostly about adventures and comic misadventures in our travels.   A couple of the stories reveal the raconteur in her and remind me of her dad who was a master storyteller. Her letter brings a smile to my face. But there is too much about my various afflictions - detracting from my strong male image. But at my advanced age, I care less about image. And that’s a good thing. So this year, have mercy on your friends and don’t include a letter unless you type: “Optional Reading” at the top. Merry Christmas 2017
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Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 9:33 PM UTC
The Christmas Letter
i contend you're still my best friend there was a lot of good **** and a lot of sappy poems writ and a whole helluva lot more but there were still bad times and plenty of terrible rhymes and you walking out that door cut to your words “can we talk” as the tears ran down your cheek and as i turned to walk away despite wanting to speak about why you felt you had to go because you didn’t have to, you know or maybe you did who am i to kid you know i used to wonder when i'd inevitably make a blunder i wondered “how long until the day comes that i drive you away” and with how much i used to complain i knew one day i’d drive you insane and while you might not have been mad it was clear that you were sad and though i don't know quite how it was ever true but it was so i did everything i could to bring you joy simply because i love you unconditionally, it’s plain as day to see that you are the world and so wonderful to me and i'm sorry that needing words was so detracting but instead of erasing these memories or redacting them i have decided it’s best to include all the good, all the bad, out of honesty i hope that’s not rude but don’t you see that all of it, beginning to end is important, to me, my deerest best friend i know it’s never news but i’ll still always confess that i love you way more than i could ever impress just with words or a poem or even a book more than puns or a kiss or a pointed cute look and it may not be what you want to hear not right now, not for awhile, maybe even a year but i love you unconditionally just to be clear you’re light and you’re warm and you’re wonderfully pure and i know that i'm certain, i'm one hundred and ten percent sure you are the one no joke this time not even a pun you are the light of my life despite all of this strife and i promise that will never change no matter how much our lives rearrange and unlike last time when i ended without a rhyme and there was no end to your frustration you can rest assured and with plenty of elation that this time, my deer will be no different
0
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 3:45 PM UTC
unconditional
i contend you're still my best friend there was a lot of good **** and a lot of sappy poems writ and a whole helluva lot more but there were still bad times and plenty of terrible rhymes and you walking out that door cut to your words “can we talk” as the tears ran down your cheek and as i turned to walk away despite wanting to speak about why you felt you had to go because you didn’t have to, you know or maybe you did who am i to kid you know i used to wonder when i'd inevitably make a blunder i wondered “how long until the day comes that i drive you away” and with how much i used to complain i knew one day i’d drive you insane and while you might not have been mad it was clear that you were sad and though i don't know quite how it was ever true but it was so i did everything i could to bring you joy simply because i love you unconditionally, it’s plain as day to see that you are the world and so wonderful to me and i'm sorry that needing words was so detracting but instead of erasing these memories or redacting them i have decided it’s best to include all the good, all the bad, out of honesty i hope that’s not rude but don’t you see that all of it, beginning to end is important, to me, my deerest best friend i know it’s never news but i’ll still always confess that i love you way more than i could ever impress just with words or a poem or even a book more than puns or a kiss or a pointed cute look and it may not be what you want to hear not right now, not for awhile, maybe even a year but i love you unconditionally just to be clear you’re light and you’re warm and you’re wonderfully pure and i know that i'm certain, i'm one hundred and ten percent sure you are the one no joke this time not even a pun you are the light of my life despite all of this strife and i promise that will never change no matter how much our lives rearrange and unlike last time when i ended without a rhyme and there was no end to your frustration you can rest assured and with plenty of elation that this time, my deer will be no different
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59
Ah, yes I forgot how easy it is to deconstruct people Like watches and clocks, they all have their own intricate gears shifting and turning Still, a precise instrument is able to take apart those intricacies and expose that inherent layer of vulnerability I very much enjoy exposing these facades and their artificial substance I choose to be that precise instrument Gratification comes in droves when the opportunity to reveal the truth presents itself I can see it all around me…These masks Feebly attempting to cover up for shortcomings while detracting from those around them I laugh! I rave! How could I not? So much drama and bluster amounts to nothing more significant than the cream atop a warm apple pie It amuses me! It defines me! These performances to a non-existent audiences I could not survive without the chance to tear down these fakes To rip off that mask and clear their vision So they could finally cease their endless whines So they could open their eyes and see They’re just as ugly as you and me
0
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 9:55 PM UTC
Theatricality and Deception
. often   i am retrodden   after passing a lengthy sleep battle day following day      i wake in and out   loftily bobbing   nodding into conversation  and durring out                                            like a tiny failing electric fan   struggling to appear present and take part    then whirring   into a congested cumulus   a colleague, (name slips me), sips her coffee she dribbles her features into her colourful lap her words become a slury chum of incoherence (she may snap back if i have energy to retrieve her she may  upon a whim   form another person altogether) i have accumulated a D.S.C. (Depression Support Creature) the opposing to what may seem                                                                  this fella supports my depressions feature being and monitor's my decline fleshed out to drain me                                                                 whilst acting as a detracting blurred vision shaking in a drabby coat  and baring its dumbed face i'm turned inward on drooping wealth                                                      and rot in the anxious conglomeration a distracted reality from reality already conquered                          flagged and declared ;     the phony thing that's real
0
Oct 22, 2024
Oct 22, 2024 at 10:31 PM UTC
results of sleep deprivation
. often   i am retrodden   after passing a lengthy sleep battle day following day      i wake in and out   loftily bobbing   nodding into conversation  and durring out                                            like a tiny failing electric fan   struggling to appear present and take part    then whirring   into a congested cumulus   a colleague, (name slips me), sips her coffee she dribbles her features into her colourful lap her words become a slury chum of incoherence (she may snap back if i have energy to retrieve her she may  upon a whim   form another person altogether) i have accumulated a D.S.C. (Depression Support Creature) the opposing to what may seem                                                                  this fella supports my depressions feature being and monitor's my decline fleshed out to drain me                                                                 whilst acting as a detracting blurred vision shaking in a drabby coat  and baring its dumbed face i'm turned inward on drooping wealth                                                      and rot in the anxious conglomeration a distracted reality from reality already conquered                          flagged and declared ;     the phony thing that's real
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