"discourages" poems
tiny elves in my backyard on my stoop -
“PLEASE SIR, MAY WE HAVE SOME SOUP?”
running out from between blades of grass,
they shouted in unison with a burly crass:
“YOU MUST UNDERSTAND, IT'S A TUESDAY NIGHT,”
“AND TUESDAYS ARE SPECIAL IN ELVEN LIFE!”
“sorry sir, soup is not for elves; mommy said!”
“DON'T LISTEN TO THAT OLD BAT,
IT'S LATE AND SHE'S IN BED…
...WE COME TO YOU IN NEED OF NOURISHMENT!”
“but, I’m just a kid and mommy discourages it!”
i said in my biggest voice, for the 900th time
as they threw up their arms, like I’d committed a crime!
running around in a mass,
they ran back, with such sass,
through the leaves in a big hurry -
on a hunt for soup they scurried...
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 6:28 PM UTC
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
Anyone
who does not aid you
to be the Character you are
only helps to water you down-
to sell you out to their world.
Moreover, anyone
who discourages you
from being your Character
isn't worthy of your attention;
they are an enemy of your creative potential,
that is to say that they are destructive
to the you that would be;
the you that could be-
perhaps should be.
**Be a Freak.
Break social rules.
Defy expectations.
Play the Fool** and own it, too,
*lest the Fool own you.*
What has the Fool taught you?
Have you been willing to learn?
Have you the capacity to teach?
Wouldst thou follow
Hermes, or Loki? Mercury? Thoth?
Or would they follow you?
***We need more Characters.
Fear not Card #0.***
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
tired of hearing "potential" in reference to me
cause i only hear it when i'm being squeezed
into a box by those who think they know whats best for me
its a wonder i haven't gone ****** from all the pressure
writer, lawyer, realtor, travel agent, hair dresser
i don't know yet, i don't know! yes i do want better
but how am i supposed to plan a career when
i can't see as far as my hand in front of me
i love everything! how am i supposed to pick one passion?
is my passion divided among a hundred interests lesser in value
than someones passion focused on one point?
i can't help but think so. and it discourages me even more
and its not just a career, job, and school
pulled in all different direction i'm everybodys fool
i have to be a different me for just about every person i see
selecting aspects of my personality to fit the scene
its not fake its not phony. its reality.
i have friends in all circles, family in a whole separate ring
i can't share all the aspects of me or i'd spend my time
defending my thoughts, beliefs, and interests.
i am so tolerant, why can't people afford me the same luxury?
the worst thing is the fake smile and polite subject change
whenever a parent of a friend asks what i've been up to
when i can SEE it in their eyes, they are all thinking the same
that i've thrown my life away, that i'm not a good influence
anymore. nevermind that they've known me for years,
that i've set dinner tables with them, celebrated birthdays,
and survived puberty alongside their kid, my best friends.
all they can see is another college-dropout who is going nowhere fast
i lied... the worst thing. what hurts most is that they are right
i AM going nowhere fast and it kills me everyday.
and its more salt right in the wound that i know my parents
have the same conversations when they run into neighbors,
friends, family, and the "how are the kids" comes up
how did a 3.7 G.P.A. and a 1410 S.A.T. turn into a
20 year old with a P.O. and a record.
i know they love me all the same but i can't help but feel ashamed
i know they wanted, i know they expected... better
i've been decorating the same mistakes in different frames
so i can pretend they're not the same
but who's the fool when its you fooling you
and me hurting me by playing fast and loose
with common sense
Feb 10, 2012
Feb 10, 2012 at 3:07 PM UTC
My Progenitor along my Father,
She loves me as if She'll take care,
Of me and my needs today & forever.
My Mother is an inspiration for me,
She has tasted success after toiling for it,
Harder in nights than in days totally.
My studies were Her priority in my school days,
She is no different in these different college days,
Never does She let her mind divert Her gaze.
My language skills, I inherited from Herself,
She taught me Hindi, English & Kannada,
I learnt and honed the Sanskrit by myself.
My German & French are elementary, but,
She never discourages me or calls my efforts,
To learn them both, with passing time, rudimentary.
My health has been Her top priority,
She ignored Her own & there was a difficulty,
Her knees gave away and needed to be replaced.
My Father loves me too but my Mother is special,
She left Her beloved Karnataka to marry my father,
Now She looks after my Father as I am alright.
I am lucky, very lucky indeed, that I have them,
She is a living legend married to Another,
This poem is more about Her and a bit about my caring father too.
My Mother taught me how to speak,
How to speak and how to live, not just once,
But along my Father, she taught it all twice.
My Mother, along my Father, defines God,
Probably this is the case with everybody,
But few realise it when Death makes a ****
I have seen her weeping for me when I was unwell,
Now it's my obligatory duty apart from a natural one,
Her I shall make proud along with my father, not just once but always.
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 4:33 AM UTC
One day you are born. You don't know anything. You adapt and adjust to the world and learn more and more. Your parents are, more likely than not, ****** They don't exactly know why they gave birth to you, but they know they're supposed to love you now. Your childhood years are formidable and promising. You show talent in sports, music, and mathematics. You go to junior high and get pimples and a ****** drive. You kiss a girl at a Violent Femmes concert at the Del Mar race track when you're thirteen. She's kinda fat and slutty, but oh well. You try really hard to not be included in anything at your high school. You do a lot of drugs. Anything will do, xanax, ******* **** ****** ecstasy, morphine, ****** beer, it's all the same to you. You get arrested for some dumb **** your parents help you. You stop doing drugs. You get really into music again. You start a band. You start writing a lot. Your writing is cliche and dry at first. This discourages you. You can't stop for some reason though. After writing hundreds of pages of ******** you write a line that is utterly magnificent. You go to work at a job that barely pays you, you come home. You dream. The money goes round. Your aspirations swivel about in a drunken stupor behind your frontal lobe. You dream. You wake. You eat, **** and sleep. The money goes round. You eat, you wish you had someone to **** then you sleep again. You keep writing and playing music though. You get really, really good. But the lash goes on.
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 11:39 AM UTC
An Island on a
Brink of collapse,
Leakages on our
national budgetry,
Cronysm and Inept
speeches seizes
Powerful seats.
Our national oil
Reserves Guzzled
down by twit Politicians
women Aspiring for
change by Denying
their Husband Conjugal
Rights.
Millions of unemployed
youths run Amok
causing a Frenzie
country-wide,
Anarchy spells Doom
across the
country.
State of Internal
security is a vital
sign for the Failure
of our current
Governments.
Reforms of national
cohesion and a new
constitution seems
like a Fantasy to
many Africans.
Our cumbersome
Judiciary procedures
discourages Investors,
so goes the Plea
of Desolate souls
in Africa.........
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 5:56 AM UTC
His lips pull into a wretched smile
That used to make me follow suit
But as it forms around hurtful words
I know that, in truth,
He was always ugly
And I was just entertainment
He'd never see me equally
And I'd never be able to make him
He mocks all I can't change
And discourages all that I do
And I've not enough self-confidence
To counter the words he threw
How did I miss how hideous
This child of a boy could be?
As now, he's set the standard
Of my definition of ugly
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
I try not to tell you how I feel
No one should determine your choices but you
Farther from honesty I become
Lies aren’t told, but my thoughts aren’t portrayed
Unless you can dig them out of me
Every thought you have discourages you
No truth I could tell would save you from that
‘Cause the truth is, if you go
Everything would be hard for me, and you’d only feel worse
Feb 21, 2011
Feb 21, 2011 at 4:47 PM UTC
Is that because you have not experienced it,
Or due to the reason that you hear only bad about it,
Rotting & offensive stench of death discourages you, yes it does.
You would call me a mad man if I said that I've tried dying once,
But yes, definitely I've tried it once by getting my bike,
My helmet-protected head collided onto road.
It was because of the mishap I passed into a long sleep from it,
Or you may prefer to use the more appropriate word for it- coma,
Testing my limits & my loved ones for their love that I turned poetic.
Personality changes occur after a great emotional or physical upheaval,
So did to me, definitely was less bent towards this art form,
My people think I'm not me but someone primeval.
You & anyone who claims the otherwise to be true can confuse it to be bad,
With extremest pain for the self & the family of the one who dies,
But it's not their only confusion & not their only fear.
What we fear isn't just death,
It's the addictions controlling you & me,
Addiction of family, vices & oxygen made me win!
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 2:19 AM UTC
Lost in assumptions and conclusions
Living amongst influences and illusions
How easy it is to lose my sense of self
While drowning in other's expectations
That often discourages original creations
I consider just being like everyone else
But to go down a path already made
Starves me of the adventure that I crave
And an undaunted outlook I have not yet felt
I am a palette among paintings
Still in the process of creating
A new colour to call myself
Apr 29, 2019
Apr 29, 2019 at 12:18 AM UTC
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Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 5:32 PM UTC
I don't understand what I want.
I feel like I'm cutting through a layer of thick metal,
enduring the sound of scraping steel scratch from surface to centre
and I'm not getting through—through to you.
I talked about him today. Embraced his disappearance in my memory
and seemed to watch him walk away all over again.
I was washed with emotion and serene understanding
of some in depth sentiment that I only found intact with him.
And it just ******* ***** because I acknowledge my surroundings—
they're printed and plastered all over in bright reds and yellows
making room for summertime without the sadness—
yet some void remains sat square in the middle;
Some lost hope, unable to make sense of what exactly belongs there.
And I'm cutting through layers of other peoples' minds
to see if their context can create art with my emotions.
But it's nothing but dull.
It's all surface and no substance,
which discourages the complexity of my being
and causes the wind from the outdoor tempest to reach
the ends of my eyelashes and the edges of my clenched teeth.
What I'm trying to say is, maybe I'm expecting too much from you.
I'm imagining mansions and kaleidoscope chemistry
with sparks sputtering out of my mouth
in the form of stutters and laughs that keep me breathless.
But instead, I'm getting dying embers,
that come from the scorching coal path of my memories burning beneath my feet.
I'm expecting too much, but I can't risk expecting nothing at all
for someone who can't even make my fingertips tingle or cause my heart to race.
Especially because I know the feeling of awe;
especially because I've felt it all before.
gd
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC
It only takes words to form a sentence
It requires only thought to disect it
the importance of a theory sometimes staggers
because lazy people like me, are too down to test it
How many ways can we avoid waking up
until we can't open our eyes for anything
how many times will i dream a dream that discourages me
until I've figured out how to disregard it
Jun 11, 2012
Jun 11, 2012 at 11:20 PM UTC
You told me, told me that
This was never the answer
This was never a choice
It wasn't a choice
But when the dark comes to life
And you're nowhere to be seen
The world stops for a moment
And my heart skips a beat
Just one motion
The blood will drip
The tears will fall
You'd say that I'd want to do it more
The thoughts run through my mind
Wonder makes its way to my brain
But there's that one feeling
That helps to take away the pain
Just one motion
The blood will drip
The tears will fall
You'd say that I'd want to do it more
But that constant feeling
One that I am thankful for
Discourages me
It discourages me
Just one motion
The blood will drip
The tears will fall
You'd say that I'd want to do it more
But that emotion
Helps me through it all
That emotion
Makes me put it down
It makes me put it down.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 8:38 AM UTC
I go back in time
When I look at a picture
And feel as I did even clearer.
Look at how happy
But shaking with fear.
Let's flip pages to now, to here.
The happenings behind his eyes
Are in the open and real,
In his actions, words--so surreal.
He's teaching me to drop my worries,
To embrace all valid emotions.
His logic completely discourages confusion.
"Can I love again?"
Yes, in fact, stronger than before.
It's spiritual, humbling--I'm unconditionally adored.
He's fearless and giddy,
Can't see my reservations.
He blindly removes them, my liberation.
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 12:08 AM UTC
Human beings.....
In a race to change
The very definition of humanity,
Only to get baptized in insanity.
Politicians.....
Rhapsody of the Parliaments and Government,
To bring a system of popularity,
Full of hate and inequality.
Bureaucrats....
Mobilize the art of duality,
Impress the subordinates with cruelty,
Pave a way to ambiguity,
Media.....
Refines the art of deception
Brainwashing the public view,
Discourages insightful review.
Intellectuals....
Racing the horses of wishes
Full of illogical ideals,
Manipulates as treasure steals.
Teachers...
Busy projecting arcane results,
Doubtful about own native cultures,
Relishing the limelight like vultures.
Administrators.....
Passionate to be remembered, Names on streets and buildings,
Boards and Committee starlings.
Social works....
Administer the theoretical concepts,
Bridge the recognised social rifts,
Actuality is subjugation and wanton theft.
©Perveiz Ali
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
I can't get you out of my head.
And no that's not a means to an end.
Its the start of a braceful beginning.
Or an irrotational sense of my state of mind which is questionable around this time.
3:52 and I'm still thinking of you.
If love is defined as constantly admiring anothers lyfe and worrying about their well being then why can't I call my feeling for you love?
Is it because you won't let me?
It seems the closer I strive the further I get pushed away.
It's like swimming to shore feeling you're almost there only to notice the waves swept you to a perilous trench,
Coated in black ink.
But no matter how many times I'm swept away by that tidal wave it never discourages me.
Because only I see that beautiful weeping mermaid alone on her glistening island of black ink.
Just let me wash it off.
And together we'll live in your treasure.
And darling we might not be pirates
But we might be peasants.
And I may not bare any sort of sensational fruit.
But I bare presents.
In the form of my love.
The strongest communication I can join your communion of common relation.
And together we'll strive for that feeling of common knowledge and shared intentions.
Common strife and shared dimensions.
Because we may not be peasants for much longer.
We've been plungering and sailing this ship of love long enough.
That I'm sure we're pirates with greedy ambitions.
And tedious repetition of unknown religions.
And one day we'll be rich off of this boat we've made from out love.
And one day we can stop sailing and settle down.
But until that day.
Our love is yet to be found.
So let's stop waiting around,
And set sail.
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 5:00 AM UTC
I hope you go where you wanted to go and find the peace and freedom you seek.
.
.
The mind is meek.
.
.
One speaks,
.
.
so that all can conceive.
.
.
.
These are rough times where the paradox be.
.
.
the separate-self finds others who are separate and share in that so called “wealth”.
.
.
.
Not you.
.
.
.
Not I.
.
.
I remember the times.
.
and yet we are content alone.
.
.
He and she had no archetype they just play the role of one when their vibrations were low.
.
.
.
He saw her like no other, .
.
.
.
Like the divine mother.
.
.
.
as if it was just him and her existing in this universe of contradiction and all it’s grandeurest moderation, they went against the currents and all that discourages transmigration.
.
.
.
I’ve watched you from a far and I miss every moment of it.
.
.
Guess I wasn’t raised to be civic,
.
.
We need no image just to help paint the image for others.
.
.
We’re just here,
.
.
and you take what you want from it.
.
.
I hope your in peace and find your brothers and sisters like you always told me you wanted to do.
.
.
Our duty,
.
.
to express words and not take anything too seriously.
.
.
I hope you’re happy together and can see how much you were loved.
.
.
.
Loved even by those who have never met you.
.
.
Maybe one day we’ll see each other again.
.
.
For in this life I will give everything I have, just for the purpose of giving.
.
.
Our thoughts are like vehicles in the desert.
.
.
We do not know where they came from or why,
.
.
it just needs a discerning eye.
.
.
.
If you find yourself in the dark, I’ll send you light and love to help you find your way.
.
.
Doves fly away above us, as we are bored of its reoccurrence. .
.
Is it strange that we seem content to others and yet our emotions are stuck by these under currents?
.
.
Do not get lost by a person’s surface...
.
.
.
Get lost with the wanderlust of their deepness.
.
.
If I die,
:
please tell my children I’m still alive.
.
Speaking through a person.
.
Speaking through a poem.
.
Involved in their ‘knowing.’
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 4:47 AM UTC
***** white cap, once pristinely perfect but carelessly soiled by ignorant hands
chipping green walls, a gentle calming color breaking away piece by piece to flaunt its original ugly palette
Socks with holes, big and small, taken for granted and willingly allowed to continue in poor shape
generously filled bottles of cologne, unused and untouched, a dream presentability accompanied by aroma shattered by melancholy indifference
empty soda cans, an adoration for sweet sensation followed by a bittersweet regret in rotten yellowed teeth
grease stained shirts, a consequence of gluttonous irresponsibility as well as a tragic reminder of one's forgotten delicate care
wrinkled oxford shirts and lost pairs of cufflinks, to lose touch with formalities and absorb a lifestyle without need to dress with pride
this house has no coasters, tables are decorated with ring stains interlocking, each one the same short story: "whoops"
once glimmering and shining silver, tarnished and neglected, now shine dully whilst sitting idly untouched
hair is a tangled mess, face is chaotically barbaric, body is an instrument out of tune, a person whose had a falling out with biological pleasantries
where the ambition to improve becomes absent, an abysmal house suffers and low ambition discourages change of mindset
a ***** mirror, in it the reflection of a stranger, eyes with no spark and an empty expression
frankly, it would appear its visage happier than mine, our faces and our surroundings look the same but the cloud that looms over me cannot be reflected
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 7:37 PM UTC
Psyche soaking wet with devout atheism,
this lifetime skeptic now tenuously
linkedin with Unitarianism
attests, said upbringing proffered,
mine credo, gestalt,
leitmotif, sans abstractionism
eludes elucidation, delineation, clarification...
some readers might
dismiss as absurdism
defying established dogma fixed absolutism
millenniums, would be hashtagged heretical,
and such cavalier blithe
apostasy, declared alarmism,
now - twenty first century
extant accursed as alcoholism
within various non
Western statecraft enclaves,
barely tolerating agnosticism
no fool to *********
proclamations antithetical opinionism
where condemnation to death
(I obediently, humbly, and gladly accept)
inadequate punishment,
cited on par relegated to alienism,
amoralism, antiestablishmentarianism...
never does this anachronism
loosely cabled with pioneerism,
(when ****** forests bedecked America),
a veritable wilderness, necessitated
quintessential self survivalism
knowhow long since forgot,
which dependence on consumerism
finds yours truly afflicted against capitalism
commercialism, conformism, cultism et cetera
more aligned with reliance on individualism
nearly an extinct species,
where anti materialism
betrays, cavils, and discourages ecocentrism,
versus profit motive maximization,
though of late environmental dynamism
aggressive representative thank you
Greta Ernman Thunberg regarding criticism,
nee opprobrious global ecological terrorism
mandating staunch defeatism
as stave bulwark
against criminal determinism
to wreak irrevocable traitorous dogmatism
predicated on tenets of egocentrism
brewed, steeped, and
galvanized in exceptionalism
of **** sapiens and expansionism
exclusive to said primate
that requires serious assessment,
asper bracketing craven
doctrinairism edified fundamentalism
granting humans unfettered expansionism!
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 3:52 PM UTC
i might have thorns
spikes
spines
quills
barbs
splinters
but i have them for
the reason
i have them is to protect
my heart is very dear to me
she keeps me alive
and so i try to return the favor
sometimes
i may do so too well
and in a way that prevents
hinders
stops
adverts
thwarts
discourages
anyone from
picking me
might be the worst decision
you could make
me do things i’d never even
dreamed of being someone’s
first choice
but those pesky thorns
spikes
spines
quills
barbs
splinters
they do a **** good job
to make sure i don’t get ruined
by someone who’d be afraid
of my
thorns
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 6:59 PM UTC
I see them in reflections - the orange juice glass at breakfast or my iPhone where they can pop-up, like notifications - I keep my phone face down.
They usually want to tell you something - how it was for them - their history. I discount these emotional messages - they come with the jester's assumption that I care - that I need the performance and will get involved.
“What are you doing?” My mom asks, as I’m taking all the shiny, mirror-like ornaments off the Christmas tree.
“The glare gives me a headache” I say, without stopping.
“Your Grandma does that too”, she says, wiping her hands on a Santa-themed dishtowel.
“Really?” I say, but I know that, and I know why.
I started having nightmares, when I was in first grade. My mom thought I had an overactive imagination but when she described it to my grandma, she soon showed up for a visit.
Over the next few weeks my Grandma told me about our “gift”. About how we were both born on the same day, under a waning third moon, in Autumn. That we're both “Yins,” doxies (sweethearts) of the dead and that we could, at times, see and hear people who were between stops on their way to their afterlives.
That’s why the dead parachute into my unused moments from reflective surfaces. They can be anxious or in despair - when their deaths were cruel or sudden - but I'm barely an adult - I'm in school - what can I do??
The presence of water discourages them - which is perfect - can you imagine seeing spirits in the reflections of your bath? EEUUUWWW!
You’ll hardly ever see me without a water bottle or polarized sunglasses - which seem to break up the images. I'll not be smothered in other people's afterlives.
Dec 30, 2024
Dec 30, 2024 at 2:28 PM UTC
I know I will get through this alive somehow
I know my heart will still beat
It is almost too inevitable to bear
Stuck in place, can't move my feet.
How can I stop destiny when broken?
Fix something that can't be repaired?
We can go upwards from where we
are
From rock bottom towards cleaner air.
Lacking strength to fly with broken wings
Rain and thunder remembered from yesterday
This is how I am pressed to face fears
Shards embedded, eventually I'll be ok.
May take awhile to feel intact
Threads tearing one by one
No longer perform efficiently
Discourages until I come undone
You saved your heart from misery
I learned and now my own I hide
It's much easier to be broken from the beginning
Then there's nothing left to shatter inside.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 11:42 PM UTC