"disagreeing" poems
Oh, they a strange brew.
Almost like a union crew.
One minute disagreeing.
Then the next tight as can be.
In house fighting that makes you question their love.
Just to see them turn around and show it.
Siblings, only they can explain it.
Getting to the truth is hard as can be.
Unless you have a young one.
Who will tell on everyone?
Siblings, only they understand that connection.
Parents know their bond.
That if attacked by others.
They gather together to bare arms.
And it's not with any guns.
The world of a child is simply hard to explain.
The way they wants to go outside and play in the rain.
And avoid coats in the snow.
And when questioned about , how things got broken?
Then between them nobody really know.
Siblings, we all been there before.
Unless you're the only child.
Then you just don't know.
This love bond stays between some as they simply begins to grow older.
Their motto , somethings parents don't need to know.
Unless it's something vital.
Then the protection goes out the door.
Yes, there'll be fights.
And lectures from parents.
There's be wearing of clothes that belonged to others.
Who hadn't had the chance to wear them before?
And give you the option of taking them off freely.
Before they assist you to the floor.
Yes, siblings.
They hard to explain.
Counselors advice isn't asked or requested for.
Not by parents that know about these things.
Books wasn't going to be their teacher.
Because books didn't raise them in anyway.
That this new generational thing.
Where judges and courts thinks social workers needs to be involved?
The best instructions is in the book about the teaching of God.
Where we see the same conflicts?
Siblings, there's no one better to have than a sister or brother.
Who had a mother or father to witness it all?
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
Oh, they a strange brew.
Almost like a union crew.
One minute disagreeing.
Then the next tight as can be.
In house fighting that makes you question their love.
Just to see them turn around and show it.
Siblings, only they can explain it.
Getting to the truth is hard as can be.
Unless you have a young one.
Who will tell on everyone?
Siblings, only they understand that connection.
Parents know their bond.
That if attacked by others.
They gather together to bare arms.
And it's not with any guns.
The world of a child is simply hard to explain.
The way they wants to go outside and play in the rain.
And avoid coats in the snow.
And when questioned about , how things got broken?
Then between them nobody really know.
Siblings, we all been there before.
Unless you're the only child.
Then you just don't know.
This love bond stays between some as they simply begins to grow older.
There motto , something parents don't need to know.
Unless it's something vital.
Then the protection goes out the door.
Yes, there'll be fights.
And lectures from parents.
There'll be wearing of clothes that belonged to others.
Who hadn't had the chance to wear them before?
And give you the option of taking them out freely.
Before they assist you to the floor.
Yes, siblings.
They hard to explain.
Counselors advice isn't asked or requested for.
Not by parents that know about these things.
Books wasn't going to be their teacher.
Because books didn't raise them in anyway.
That this new generational thing.
Where judges and courts thinks social workers needs to be involved?
The best instructions is in the book about the teaching of God.
Where we see the same conflicts?
Siblings, there's no one better to have than a sister or brother.
Who had a mother or father to witness it all?
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
Bravery is not,
Easy to find,
In a culture such as mine,
We often define,
An incorrect view of what is good,
What deserves praise or should,
Be acknowledged by those who could,
Hand out honours.
Bravery is not,
In shooting a gun,
At another man's son,
Or in knowing you've won,
So with a buffer going for the glory,
So you can have the best story,
Of how you scored the key,
Winning blow.
Bravery is not,
A foolish choice made,
That through luck somehow paid,
Off but always weighed,
Down your chances of success,
Though you always said: "Yes",
When asked: "Was it for the best?"
After time passed.
Bravery is,
Admitting to yourself that you,
Might have been wrong to,
Assume what you always knew,
About yourself was definitely right,
And that things might,
Not be as black and white,
As you thought.
Bravery is,
Telling people you were wrong,
That you don't belong,
In the category you were in all along,
And in fact there's more to the truth,
When it comes to you,
And getting to know who,
Lives in your skin.
Bravery is,
Disagreeing with normality,
Arguing with the morality,
Put forward by the society,
That thinks its way is above,
All else, And loving who you love,
And being proud of,
**WHO
YOU
ARE**
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 1:41 PM UTC
Skyrim, Land for Nords
Filled with Mead and Honningbrew
Singing with blood and cords
Disagreeing to their Divines and Lords
But raging with war and Talos Blessed
Destroying the empire, liberating Skyrim
Once Again
But a nightmare appears
"DRAGONS! DRAGONS!" a filthy Nord say
Running away pityfully as the Myths slays
A man stays
A nordic lad
Tough like Talos
***** as a rag
The tongue of the ancients
Shouting, stealing the souls of the Myths
It's the Dragonborn
It's back
Since centuries
And has came
To Unlegend the Myths
Once Again
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 10:01 PM UTC
There once was a girl called Goldilocks
Who lived in a forest filled with phlox
She did not to have a soul to play with
And in the forest she would often drift
She once became lost, the lonely, little girl
The one with the head full of golden curls
Panicked and scared, she came upon a house
But it appeared that everyone there was out
She helped herself to the food, cold and hot
She tried the chairs until one hit the spot
Too tired to try to make her way back
She hit the sheets to take a nap
Very picky was this lost, lonely tot
Some porridge was too cold, some too hot
Beds too soft or too hard to sleep tight
Only one she found that felt just right
Mama, Papa, and Baby Bear were soon back on arrival
After a long day of fishing for their survival
What? Who had their nose in each of their bowls?
Gone was one porridge that to the brim was full
And who had sat in and broke one of the chairs?
It looked like a human by some strands of golden hair!
Hunters? Oh, no! Could they be on the prowl?
The bears sniffed around and started to growl
Baby Bear was the first to see
The little girl catching some Z's
"Oh, cool!" exclaimed little Baby Bear
"Can we keep her? Can she stay here?"
They all came upon Goldilocks all snug in bed
Papa Bear was now furious and began to see red
"And you call us animals!" he yelled loudly at her
"Who gives you the right?! Where are your manners?!"
Goldilocks woke up with an ear piercing shriek
Facing three hairy bears, she could not speak
Out the house she ran, far enough to see her home near
And that was the last that Goldilocks saw of those bears!
"She was just a scared, little girl", Mama Bear said to her spouse
"We could have stopped her and let her stay in our house!"
Papa Bear, disagreeing with her foolish trust, swore
**** it! I told you the last one out locks the door!!!"
"You begin feeding them...they are so clever
You'll never get rid of them. They stick around forever!"
Mama Bear refused to fight, for Papa Bear refused to bend
And that is all there is to the story. THE END!
Jul 25, 2010
Jul 25, 2010 at 7:53 PM UTC
"I know where you live", he said,
"so it's best that you'll behave.
Don't get me angry or else,
I'll make you dig your own grave."
"Why are you like that", I said.
"I don't know what wrong I've done."
"You know what it's about", he yelled,
"you've been unfair to my son."
"But Brian is not the talent as you think,
he's insubordinate and mostly rude,
he will probably fail the term,
if he continues in this attitude."
"But isn't it your responsibility
to turn him into a decent being?"
"Education begins at home, you know,
although your kin might be disagreeing."
Jul 5, 2021
Jul 5, 2021 at 3:35 AM UTC
The Butler Model of Tourism
I come back year after year
cracked black valise, busted zipper
spring-shot lobby divans drained of color,
to press crisp bills into Monte’s hand
come up for air from the tortoise shell
of his thread bare uniform, ease myself
down on a sagging mattress
wait for the clatter of ancient bones
his creaking cart and shuffling feet
to recede into absolute silence down
the dimly lit hall, broken only by a spate
of conversation between the couple
I can just make out in the water
stained fresco above the bed
two of them lost in a heated row
as if I couldn’t hear their bald appraisals
shockingly frank in this flocked walled room
with musty corners and milky windows
disagreeing only on the degree of my
progression through the dismal stages of
“The Butler Model of Tourism”
him making a half-hearted case for
Rejuvenation, the woman straddling
the thin line between Stagnation and Decline.
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 9:47 AM UTC
I feel like I’m stuck in time.
My feet, cemented to the ground where I stand.
People soar by me on both sides.
All around me, yet nowhere near me.
They successfully string together passionate ideas, delicate drapery, and sky-high goals to form a shell of utter perfection, to those who observe from the outside.
But here I stand, with anger.
An anger so strong, it is removing every part of me until I am too tired to feel anything at all.
This emptiness acts as my superintendence.
Forcing me to laugh loudly at overused jokes,
and widen my tightly shut lips into a smile at compliments, spoken by the peers that play the part of my closest companions.
But these words, once soaked up, fall deep down the hollow hallways of what is left of me.
Welcomed by nothing but a disagreeing voice, behind the quiet thank you that escapes from this empty shell.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC
Don't flatter yourself. You aren't any special a human being. But, I fail to explain this to my heart, for it beats at an opposite tune to my disagreeing. I have had conversations with it, deep and intense. It refuses to budge and has a strong defence. I rest my case every single day, for I am a poor Prosecutor. The Judge, my mind holds its hands up, every single time.
Guess, the heart wants what it wants.
Court dismissed.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 5:18 AM UTC
I think that a Bar-B-Q is an extension of a guys manliness.
Or manhood.
Now before all of you start disagreeing with me,
listen to this blondes logic.
When a man goes to purchase a grill
There are many factors a man has to take into consideration.
And they are, in this order, as follow:
1. Propane vs. Charcoal and Charcoal Fluid
2. The size of the grill
3. Rotisserie?
4. Accessories
5. Bar-B-Q covers
Let us take each consideration in turn.
Propane vs. Charcoal and Charcoal Fluid.
Propane men:
Some men want instant gratification. Twist a **** or two, push a button here and instant heat. Give it a few minutes to build to the right temperature and BAM! In with the meat. Once done, turn a **** or two and walk away. No muss. No fuss.
Charcoal men:
Other men are more inclined to take their time. savor the experience. They enjoy watching the flames build and turn into a glowing bed of meat searing heat. When everything is just right, they gently place the meat. They stand gaurd over it. Tending to it. Every once in a while poking it to test if it's ready. These same men will sometimes sit snuggled around the glowing embers afterwards. Watching the heat fade and cool. Then they will ask their woman they had served "How'd you like your steak babe?"
Charcoal Fluid And Men:
Some men should never be allowed near a Bar-B-Q that requires something to stimulate the flames. It always ends in disaster and or injury.
Size Of The Bar-B-Q:
O.K. Now this is a touchy subject for most men. It has been known to cause envy, jealousy and has broken up a marriage or two. Men think bigger is better.
When buying a Bar-B-Q , a man thinks about; cooking area, the possible need for side burners, portability, and the all important factor of presentation. That's right. How will it look to the neighbors and guests? Will they be properly impressed with it? Also, can it handle the extra meat when company comes over? Heaven forbid it should let him down and make him look foolish.
Rotisserie:
This is an important decision. Does having your meat spin make it better? I think that this is more of an individual decision.
Accessories:
Now we have reached a critical point. How to accessorize. Of course, every man needs the right equipment to ensure success. And all of the tools need to have a long reach and be durable.
Tongs, fork, knife, spatula, basting brush.
Some men even splurge and go for a flavor injector. Now that's a man who cares about his meat.
Bar-B-Q Cover:
Finally we reach the last consideration a man has to make. To cover or not to cover?
Men! Always, with out fail, should cover. It is for their own protection. And it shows you care.
Thank you.
Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 10:50 AM UTC
It's ok, go ahead and be a hater
hate on me, i'll see you later
lately i have been a debater
debating with the one creator
creating a brand new being
be aware of what you're seeing
see me as your mind freeing
free me from the disagreeing
disagreements of failure falling
fall away and hear your calling
call to you to stop brawling
brawlers always continue crawling
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 1:26 PM UTC
When I was fifteen I listened to a religion teacher say
“Maybe” there should be a queer holocaust
and I pretended it didn’t hurt me,
the same way I pretended when she said
trans people mutilate their bodies by becoming who they are
when she misgendered Leelah Alcorn
when she called asexuals freaks of nature
when the other queer kid got sent to therapy
for having the audacity to even try to start a GSA
and suggesting that maybe everyone deserves to feel safe here
and my friends
think I’m overreacting
“It’s not a big deal!”
“Get over it!”
“Stop trying to be so special,
you should be expecting it at a Catholic school,
this is just what religion is like”
Is it?
Head down
Head down
Voices down,
you can get expelled for disagreeing with the archdiocese
Whisper in the hallway
about all the girls with pregnancy scares
who believed that
love
was the best contraceptive
Is that what Jose Gomez is teaching us?
No it doesn’t hurt
to watch my friends cry
about boys who yell ******
down high school hallways
No it doesn’t hurt
when my friend asked me
“what would your kids even call you?”
No it doesn’t hurt
to be like this
Or at least
I can pretend it doesn’t
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 2:15 AM UTC
I wonder what would happen, if you came through my hood
Sitting back for hours, wondering if you should
Will you keep your eye over your shoulder, at the man behind
Just because he looks, like he’s on the grind, in a bind
Or maybe cause your thoughts, are already intertwined
You judged us from the start, step one till the end
When you came around the corner, now your acting like a friend
Now I’m beginning to wonder, what your willing to spend
So I won’t expose the fact, that your friendship is pretend
What’s more important, your wallet or well being
Looking at your stance, your on the verge of peeing
Scared out of your mind, is it a ghost that your seeing
You think were gonna hurt you, well were not disagreeing
Hand on your phone, calling cops for your freeing
Now step back from your fear, see who really needs to be freed
Stuck in this world of prejudice, originated from greed
When can I move on, from the hatred that I’ve fleed
Treated different and tortured, cause I’m not of your creed
Now I’m gonna make up for my pain, get even with this deed
Let’s see how you handle it, when your soul begins to bleed
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 4:51 AM UTC
To this life,
replete in unconnected fragments,
you are glue,
bonding disjointed existence,
exhalting impassioned communication,
raising love beyond visible heights.
There are no sounds without receiver;
what good are nimble thoughts,
without the same --- a lover
with whom to share?
Every separation is a link,
making closer the rendezvous.
Every revelation a mortar,
cementing admiration in opposites.
I need to know
the unknowable you,
dissimilar as we are,
routinely disagreeing,
reinforcing our mutuality.
O delicious paradox,
delight me,
in the not knowing
in the riddles
of relationships.
We both appreciate
Carroll's Rules of Jam ---
*Jam tomorrow or jam yesterday,
but never jam today.*
My trusted ally,
who but we,
shall prevail against such logic?
Let's share
*six impossible beliefs
before breakfast.*
Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 9:56 PM UTC
My body listens to my commands.
Back straight, stomach in, legs together.
I have trained it well enough to not sway to the whims of other hands.
The back of my neck has learnt to not tingle at a touch anymore.
The lips don’t quiver when someone says my name.
Boot camp ***** is under control, captain.
No one crosses the line that has been crossed before.
We don’t speak of it,
but the legs did open before they knew how to behave.
With a sneak attack from the side,
And right between my thighs, I found fingers exploring
me like someone walking into the restricted section of the library
with caution and excitement, but all disregard for the rules.
There were no rules then, rather.
My body froze in attention.
I was a pawn and I moved one inch at a time as asked.
My mind led the coup to reclaim the kingdom of my body.
Pleasure remained locked behind doors
And muffled in pillows.
Obedience was learned
when the body woke.
Stay woke, stay woke, stay woke.
I am my own marching band now.
I am my own army.
I fight every day
Defending
Disagreeing
Shoving
Hiding
Covering
Curling in
Curling up
Shouting out
Screaming in.
Fight on, little soldier.
Seek your own pleasure.
But keep your back straight,
your eyes bright,
your laughter in pitch
And your legs closed.
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 6:56 AM UTC
I think I outgrew you a while ago.
We spent seven years close but
everything changes
and I don’t want to fight but
everything changes.
I do feel bad that we don’t talk as much.
Our worlds are too different now
to have anything to talk about.
I know you look down on my
not-an-ivy-league college
but you’re with your peers now
and I’m happy with mine. Yes you’re
brilliant with books. Not so brilliant
with human beings.
You will go on to be more successful than your mother
like she pushed you to be,
but you're still looking for your
happiness.
I’m a little different, a little opposite.
Not so brilliant with books, I’d rather be with my
human beings.
I know in my heart where I’ll find my happiness
one day, and I assure you it will not be
in some grey forty story office building
still wondering why
your ex boyfriend at age seventeen
decided to kiss me under the slide
at the neighborhood park
while he was trying to forget about you.
That doesn’t feel so great for me either
being a rebound.
But at least I’ll have lived my life
and I’ll have no questions or regrets
my garden will be full of flowers.
Let’s keep disagreeing, because
I won’t let myself become so
angry.
Feb 6, 2012
Feb 6, 2012 at 2:48 AM UTC
Rippling down the stream
Of many peoples consciousness
An effervescent future life
Stripped of this abhorrent distress
A future filled with study
Free for each and every human being
A world with no false borders
A world with far less disagreeing
And a universal language
Forged with available technology
That translates in real time
Enhanced with anthropology
Giving us a precise understanding
Of how each other achieve solutions
A pragmatic communication
Circumnavigating ****** revolutions
We would calculate the earths resources
And how to evenly distribute them
Then we would dispose of pointless cash
Like ill people dispose of phlegm
Our centralised political weasels
That do far more harm than good
Would be replaced by microchips
Programmed to not be misunderstood
It is an interesting proposal
To those with a humane conscience
But to those smugly enjoying advantage
I guess it is annoying nonsense
So we must wait for millions to be displaced
For total world economic collapse
The greedy spoilt brats will listen then
Or will they continually relapse?
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC
I'm sick of not being able to write.
I'm sick of meaningless violence in the world.
I'm sick of people needing someone to blame.
I'm sick of meaningless debates.
I'm sick of pettiness in the human race.
I'm sick of people not supporting each other.
I'm sick of people wishing others to be held back.
I'm sick of my friends dying.
I'm sick of money.
I'm sick of the presidential election.
I'm sick of these pretend Poli-sci majors.
I'm sick of humans disagreeing with each other just because they can.
I'm sick of my TV show's being cancelled.
I'm sick of negativity being the way of the world.
I'm sick of the people I love being unwilling to take a chance.
I'm sick of To Keep You Alive being unpublished.
I'm sick of being stuck on Keep Me Alive.
I'm sick of death.
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 1:33 AM UTC
The creak of my bones,
rubbing in disagreement to my
stretching, hoping for relief while
thoughts of murky water mold and
pull apart like a bowl of warm soup
Relief of a multitude of sorts, my
mind and body
bickering as an old married couple would,
stuck together to the very end
and yet disagreeing on
how much I should sleep
Words begin to have no meaning,
only becoming a soft mumbling of
utter nonsense that should be perfectly clear
like that pond of murky water
It drowns me in hopeless longing
for clarity, a decent night's rest
and relief.
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 10:58 PM UTC
Communication is the backbone of a relationship
Maybe not always about the talk frequency
But more about the authenticity
Communication driven by mutual understanding
Fuels a relationship that is outstanding
Undivided attention
Effective listening
Seeking to understand rather than listening to judge
Seeing with their eyes and not our heads
Respecting feelings and emotions
Finding common ground during disagreement
Disagreeing to agree
Effective communication is the ballast of a relation-ship
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 8:37 AM UTC
I've watched the movies of my ages,
Even those that were before,
I've read books of teenage feelings,
I've read about leprechauns.
The world has become an endless series,
The scenes repeat in every lore,
There's no book that could surprise me,
The same stories in every store.
My eyes are saying they are full of seeing,
They are replete of colours,
Even my mouth is fed of disagreeing,
They both wish to remain closed.
While my eyelids are feignedly sleeping,
While my lips are firmly closed,
The darkness is calling and appealing,
But the movie colours shout.
The films keep shooting everywhere,
Like an ever writing Molière,
But do the plays interest me more,
Or not seeing them anymore?
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 7:40 AM UTC
My mind may be weak,
but the words i've spoke,
have not gotten their rightful moments,
have been built just to get broken,
and that wasn't what I had chose,
For my words have spoken,
louder than your screams on froze over mountain tops highest peaks,
so loud they will make the snow lung and leap down,
My words have been stronger then body's covered in satin gowns,
But my words are like ghost towns making people white and corps like,
But unlike the pen and paper that is silent,
I can speak these tales of tyrants to beauty,
but I never complete this duty for my mouth feels like foreign tongues,
I try to speak from the heart inside my lungs but words,
and towards the end of my spiel,
I feel like what I said wasn't real,
or the appeal I was going for.
you shut a door on me and my thoughts,
like your my boss who doesn't have to listen to my words,
and discord all the things i've endured.
I've matured enough to know I can't be asking for a cure,
but maybe if you were able to listen to me,
and stop disagreeing to start with,
I'd feel like I wouldn't have to pitch my life story as real,
instead of its normal appeal of a called myth,
because with my ****** life I'd make up **** about what happened?
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
There are several ways
to cross over to the other side
HUMANS
we spend our existence
disagreeing on what
the other side contains
~FACT~
we all have to go anyway
we all will find out
like an impatient kid
that demands
i want it now
we are too impatient
to wait and see
the universe's ultimate surprise
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 8:37 PM UTC
Love is..
Love is you and me
Love is eating Olive Garden and Pizza Hut
Love is playing call of duty
Love is watching Netflix
Love is working on cars
Love is going to photo shoots
Love is taking each other lunch
Love is back rubs and cuddles
Love is piggy back rides and dancing
Love is fighting for each other
Love is fighting with each other
Love is disagreeing
Love is painful
Love is hard
Love is rewarding
Love is you and me
And love is worth the fight.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 8:59 AM UTC
You are not
A ****** for being a man
A racist for being white
Homophobic for being straight
A terrorist for being Muslim
Or a bigot for disagreeing
Stop generalizing
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 4:37 AM UTC