"disparaged" poems
I can no longer hide
My soul ignited
once disparaged
I long to share it
The chills in my spine put into words
Lips on skin
Eyes filled with sin
What is this sensation
I drip colors you cannot see
Heightening my passion
Enhancing my touch
Raw emotion channeled as such
My desire aches
The color of flush
My cage breaks
Expressions of lust
I do not fear it
I can hear you blush
My favorite sound
Our souls combust
Mar 11, 2018
Mar 11, 2018 at 11:41 PM UTC
“Amanda,” she said, in a bold assertion
“We really are the same
Person.” Limp in the dew and
Wise like a sage, no wound cut
No blood shed, yet,
There was something this
Bandage shut,
Something yawning, gaping
But I don’t know what…
How sad! She’s crying, that Amanda,
Shrugging ‘gainst the colic rain
And almost lost in the copes-y veranda,
Weeping softly on
Those concrete flats, wearing “Red Tom’s
And” both “Dating Matts” while
I saw her fear in that moment, appalling, stalling
With soroitous heart, “and fear of falling!”
Binding them tightly: “That’s US haha!”
How many laughs does a limp spirit draw?
—(a disparaged few or none at all…)
Still, she writes, “I am so glad” (a huff annoyed
From Amanda, distant and sad, that I
Can’t tell why “you” ever “joined.”)
But this is not my place, a passerby,
To pick up trash, inane and lonely,
To cast my judgments and inquire—why?
To heal the unbroken with words unspoken
But scratched on refuse, she may
“[heart] you” but refuse you, too
The spirit of [heart] in Amanda awoken
—(But she refused it, too!)
And then be a token
Some stranger takes home.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
Fever-flushed children and
Broken bodies
Litter hospital halls like so much
Human refuse
….Wondering why
their need for care is treated so tepidly by a
Society which worships
Profits
Power and
Prestige
….Waiting while
they wallow in anguish as
Privacy
Paperwork and
Payment are
Debated by bureaucrats in cubicles
….Wanting to be refreshed and
restored to some measure of usefulness
….But
Free to Pursue Life on their terms in exchange for
Silence
Acceptance and
Despair
Huddling for warmth and in
Fear of discovery
they assemble in rag-tag formation
having scaled formidable fences
Seeking freedom from
Poverty and oppression
Searching for work of any sort
….No matter how
Humiliating or
Hard
….No matter the
Cost or
Conditions
Disparaged and despised they labor
in hope that their children will have a chance for success
instead of suffering a similar fate
…..But
Free to Pursue Liberty
in a land where their presence is
Ignored if not Denied
Unkempt in camouflage
One-legged and
Vacant-eyed
he rolls his rickety wheelchair along grassy median with muted effort
displaying cardboard sign
childishly scripted
in one weather-worn and gnarled hand
while clutching a decapitated jug in the other
Forgotten
Forlorn, and
Discarded veteran
Victimized far more by country than foe
….But
Free to Pursue Happiness while
Begging on street corners as
Upright citizens dispense
Unwelcome opinions or
Pocket change with equal
Self-righteousness
Life
Liberty and the
Pursuit of happiness….
Ideals that slowly incinerate on the
Altar of Capitalism
….Songs forever lost in the
Cacophony now
Played on the
Instrument of Politics
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 7:17 PM UTC
Forever is a lie
You disparaged me and left
Tomorrow I'll fall again
Not in love but in need
For that cute guy in my class
You don't define forever
You and me don't forever
We may have infinite chasm between us
But infinity doesn't define forever either
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 10:12 AM UTC
The rain kept pouring in vain
and no one seems to know the lain
The sorrow of labor lines the root
But the root appears in subjection
For no one could carry the element
Far flung on yonder, long ago!
Come to me with sheer of love
in the passion of dream told long a while
To be true in the cradle of sorrow
keeps the wing of imagination, obvious
No regrets befall the stand of affection
For the sun mixes the rain with bright colors
The moon does not need to fight
same road well traveled for purpose
And when destined for the reality of time
Beseemed by faithlessness renewed
'Abraka da bra' the farmer wails in sorrow
Hope not disparaged as the time tells
Let the beauty of nature not betrayed
with passion the blender carries up the smoke
Beneath the flame of mercy of yesteryears
How true the giver grants to him of goodwill
With appreciation though sometimes convincing
For the sun shines in the midst of rain
How long shall they kick the prophets
cause he gat no voice to cry the woes
Sublime the hours to come forth
With a smile covered in gratitude
Wake up no need for trial of tears
For the sun shines as overshadow.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 8:58 PM UTC
I sit alone in this park that I’ve known for so long, and listen to bird’s songs, in the hopes my mind will grow tranquil and clam.
I await words to write, to relieve some strife, seeking merely a sliver of a slice of peace of mind. But time comes to a halt, as ghosts with a waltz, dance through my head causing dread, harboring memories from when I was young.
Still naïve and oblivious of the strenuous afflictions to come.
With thoughts collected, I reminisce these recollections, of when the world was filled with bliss, and wish that life was still like this.
When every day is an adventure to be treasured and joy is never severed, I’m care free because responsibility does not exist, within, my limited vocabulary yet.
Each day is met with set structures from a structured home, where mom and dad, still pretend they’re glad, which means I have no reason to be sad. And so, I still don’t know, what it’s like to feel alone, in a broken failing home.
Normalcy becomes conformity, complacently but blatantly forming a shell of apathy.
Because now dad yells, and the children’s eyes swell, with tears of fear, my mom’s with sheer, determination to captain this ship, stubbornly sit, amidst, these waves of irritation mixed with infidelity.
I found myself stuck in a storm, totally torn, as my joy is worn consistently down. I clown around to be sound, but a permanent frown, is brazenly embroidered into my broodingly breaking soul.
Time flew by ignored my cries to slow, and so my consciousness consented its blissfulness to turn to bitterness, my brokenness was all that I knew, and soon, it was all I could show.
Although now I’m older, still too often I smolder with rage, and both shoulders have boulders, for chips but I’ll fight fate, abate my hate, to keep my future family safe.
Safe from the games my parents played to hide their shame, of a marriage disparaged by barriers, bolstered with a selfish taint. I will sufficiently and selflessly safeguard my wife from treachery. To not neglectfully or carelessly, lead her into insanity. For bride and seed, I will succeed, to do everything my parents failed to do for me.
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
*did you buy all of this on credit
and can you do without
going to ceremonies for awhile
look what higher learning
and empty rituals have given you
a distrust for humanity
and all that's truly valuable
are you a nihilist or a solipsist
what a life to be so twisted
like an elliptical esophagus
so strange the way we spell things
what would we do without
spellcheck or a dictionary these days
is a thesaurus a dinosaur or a literary device
the swelling went down
right in time for your dialectical revival
while didactic strange attractors are strangely repellent
selective attackers leave your marriages despondent
disparaged orthodontists leave fluids on your face
still you wipe your chin with sandpaper
and leave greasy finger stains in their place
fluoride is a bargain complete with its own argument
and quite often batteries are not included
but that doesn’t mean you’ll never use them
for what's a *** toy to do
if its lacking its adjacent latex compartments
or if you're really just not in the mood
i guess this human body will have to do
grooving to the music is all about our choosing to
becoming outdated or faded like a tax evader
these equations are meaningless
when you are fermented with libations
if you drink more amber liquid would you be negated
relevant for a moment and then
just as quickly discarded as a piece of paper
the receipts we diligently saved
are just as well used to light your fireplaces*
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 12:49 PM UTC
Jesus is a liberal
This is a fact that can easily be proven,
If you look at God’s Son in the scripture,
You may reach the same conclusion
Could you believe
That the God who created us
Created abortion
Maybe he found his children’s cries too hard to bear
So He came up with a solution that was only fair
“Take your children
Give them to me
I’ll give you both a better life, you’ll see
Don’t listen to those people outside
Their shouting is a sin
Please don’t cry, just come in.”
This same God
Fights for gay marriage
And cries when He hears His children being disparaged
He created love above all things
For some He created an Adam
For others an Eve
He did not decided this on gender or ***
But on who would love His child the best
And on welfare benefits
Jesus is number one
Giving to the poor and those who have none
Getting drunk on communion wine,
Jesus always would've voted
You see Jesus’ ministry was entirely devoted
To serving those who no one else would serve
Making sure everyone receives even if they don't deserve
So when you look at the evidence it’s quite clear that
Jesus was a democrat
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 8:37 PM UTC
*i need (i want) Your help, You see,
i cannot go alone, just me.
and You with all Your wealth and gold,
should give and give and shall not hold.*
*yet Your safe is blocked with a guard man's lock,
and only little will You give,
even spare change goes nowhere but Your stock,
so force is the only way i live?*
Disparaged one, feel free to go on,
speak freely as you will.
but note your words are here then gone,
I'm busy working to pay the bill.
A common facade is that which you say,
I will not give to the poor, what dismay!
But while you sit and complain away,
and say that I am ill,
what change or good have you done today?
I'm busy working to pay the bill.
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 3:02 AM UTC
They suffer
the harshest loss
family
lovers
friends
community
occupation
respect
dignity
pride
Yet they endure
They live in the streets
or the hills
or the places where
no one goes
because for them
there is no home
Yet they endure
And there is no one
to care for them
or feed them when
they're hungry
or treat them when
they're sick and
they have no money
to depend on so
they beg for what
they can survive on
Yet they endure
They are disparaged
as pariahs instantly
and automatically
by most who won't
spare a second
to know them before
passing judgment
and who themselves
would self-destruct if
their better fortune
were to erode by only
a fraction of what
they have lost
Yet they endure
Despite suffering
every painful circumstance
and being dealt luck far
worse than they ever
believed possible
time and time
and time again
they continue to breathe
and to hear the sounds
that play throughout
each day and to see
what visions come
their way and they
feel the sun on their
faces as it wakes them
and brings yet
another day
And they endure
For them the privilege
of being alive when
all the Universe but
this tiny planet has been
without life from
the beginning of time
somehow gives them
the strength to struggle
through each moment
as it comes and to
be grateful for each
experience and whatever
still remains for them
without drowning
in the endless misery
of what is past
And they endure
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 10:38 AM UTC
What are we teaching?
Who are we reaching?
What have we taught today?
Buy him a toy gun
Looks like a real one
Who have they fought at play?
Cowboys and Indians
Act like the real ones
At least like we saw on TV.
Cowboys the good guys,
Indians the bad guys.
Perfect authenticity.
White folks meant no harm
Just came there to farm
Four thousand years of land.
They had no papers
Really invaders
Things just got out of hand.
A clash of two cultures
Then food for the vultures
Everyone thought they were right.
But in the long run
Law made decisions
All in favor of the whites.
Words were encouraged
Dignity disparaged
White people called them savage
Due no respecting
And fit for just killing
Then plenty of land they could ravage.
Textbooks got altered,
The ministry faltered;
Heathens deserve what they get.
Jesus cherished the meek
But whites turned no cheek.
They haven’t quite fixed things yet.
What are we teaching?
Who are we reaching?
What have we taught today?
Children play death games,
Who can we all blame?
Are there no other games to play?
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
Why feel miserable
When you have a choice
Don’t let your guard down
Fend off the barrage of accusations
Wanting to make you feel-
Depressed
Degraded
Disparaged
Defeated
Turn away from the intimidation
When you can live big
Not let someone belittle your mind
And the big heart
That beats with love
For yourself and dear ones
Indomitable, the soul is
And you are a formidable force
To break those iron grips
Shatter their wrongdoing
And give yourself a chance
Life awaits you
And it’s beautiful out there
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
I hide behind soft words that grievous be,
make off unkempt to light the night with soul;
far-flung from here I dream unstoppably,
and ne'er return since seas I roam be gold.
Disparaged art for insight into life,
held polystryrene virtue to the fire,
'til melted and deformed the mass took flight,
and 'fumed the scene as if a toxic pyre.
Jesting at the mere hint that iambs soothe,
flame-lick our arms and tongues with what's outside;
no balm of couplets nor prose peace pursues
peripety awash in orange jibes.
While under hoodies, shaggy hair and pearls,
a futile ******* blunder fickle whirls.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
His footsteps lead to lost places
only he knew the journey;
for all else it was treacherous
they had no light like his burning.
When he drew near,
the horizons were lit as quiet embers that
rise, singing majesty to the heavens
as he rounds the Earth.
His laughter set babes to slumber and
their mothers would shake with desire,
yet none of this would stir him,
no warmth for lord of fire.
'Pon still surface of captivating sea,
a ripple racked the endless reaches
from it rose an alluring beauty,
such that sun seemed weary.
Lord of fire felt his power dim
from somewhere on Earth's rim
and sought out this source
of unyielding force.
There she was,
and how she tamed even
the dance of fickle flames
the lord she did astound.
"What have I found?"
Quick as a blink
the beauty did sink
and silence her visage
leaving lord disparaged.
He searched the sea,
unable to find beauty
no sea could sate this thirst
and erase what was seen.
There wasn't a sign
a glimmer sublime
of beauty to delight
our lord from fright.
His father chastised him
his brothers derided him
yet not fact nor fancy,
could quench him.
His fires grew fierce
they scorched friend and foe
"Where'd you last see her?"
I don't know... I don't know!
A quaking delirium
no sanctum or serum
could quench lord
and fight the flames.
The fires began to
do something tricky
they began to burn him
like a candle's wick.
His shouts pierce the aether
The heavens did respond
they put lord to sleep
mighty flames abscond.
In his dreams,
she was there,
he touched her hand,
he smelt her hair.
She was real,
how could he know
that he was asleep
an endless show,
but his thirst
was quenched
no fray, no throes
he knew what it was
to be drenched.
One brother crept by
and siphoned lord's fire
to become the object
of the living's hungry desire.
But an ember remained
in lord entombed
He's somewhere in sky
we call him Moon.
Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 10:47 PM UTC
I grabbed the eternal fire of the life
when your laugh suddenly grasped me in a void.
As you cuddled my abandoned, desolate spirit,
what a piece of sparkle could really commit
did you at least see and feel it, my dear?
Till now I remember your humane manners,
as I climb my first power-smelling ladders...
I see how the love inside turns into ego,
If I'd have been sober and hadn't let you go,
Would you have still been so true and sincere?
Power is as right as the origin of life,
however as guilty as the creator's strive.
I live all the moments as if my last ones
and wish for a moment, just only at a glance
that you were around now, that you were here...
You are the reflection of my hazy past,
my self-destructed, inside-lost part,
a disparaged philosopher, a despised poet,
our sublime revenge we begin to get,
and my majestic woman,
you are inside yet...
So, the future is definitely clear...
Future is clear...
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 3:10 PM UTC
With more dreams than dreamers;
Too many hopes that could not be,
Too many ways the evil schemers
Could erase the future we might see.
There were millions stealing hope
From all the people everywhere.
There were even more of the people
Who sat silently and did not care.
That is the way the holocaust came
Not from starving people without hope.
The people were the richest ever
Not a multitude on a slippery slope.
We all had our toys and pleasures;
Some less and the chosen had more.
Technologically we were moving
Into a future we could explore.
There was no reason for us to fail,
To turn on each other screaming hate.
We almost had a perfect nation.
We cry and hope it is not too late.
We had begun to fix the problems
And corporations became afraid.
They would lose control of us all
And all the progress we had made.
So, they bought a gang of thugs,
Paid them well to win their seats.
They knew they could change the laws.
The rest of us would know defeat,
Because they counted on the lazy
And the uninformed to buy their lies.
That’s the way the ending happens.
The greedy ****** off the wise.
The evil leaders speak in circles
And say the bad things are good.
The good things are disparaged
They would jail us if they could.
The cloak it all in Bible guises
Claiming they are fixing things.
Some of us can see the truth here;
They try to make a throne for a king.
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
to quote a generation, “Whatever…”
history will mark the day this uselessness
is forever banned, this day will be paraded
along the Avenue where astronauts feted,
Super bowl heroes greeted in tall canyons,
no more ticker tape, will shred them invoices
marked overdue, so they will remain status
unchanged, but whatever will be part and
parcel of the disparaged disappeared, for
it insults the recipient twice as much as the
mutterer utterer, for why not say, best direct,
I disrespect us both and won’t give a moment
to consider what you’ve stated, afraid, that exercising a
right to minimal modicum of caring will die out
with that generation, and we will spake a loud
Aleleuya,
and all will answer with feeling,
with a smiling thumbs up,
and W. Whitman will join in…
11:40am
Sun May 25, 2024
May 26, 2024
May 26, 2024 at 11:49 AM UTC
You've flipped the switch
No more feeling
Your mom beat you
She disparaged you for hours
A failure at everything
A total disappointment
It makes me sad
To hear you speak fondly
Of a hastened death
You're not perfect, man
But you're my friend
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 12:28 AM UTC
exceedingly onerous
appreciably disparaged
carls extant
Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 7:33 AM UTC
I’m not thinking of you
All the time
That’s why you’re (in) my poem again
And a fleeting memory of mine.
Nothing of pith, nor something to question:
Like a simple, transient indigestion.
Though, you were once a wound
--Another shard of glitt’ry ceramic—
Certainly, I’m sure, I’ve healed
While meditating you, the font endemic.
Rest assured, I’ve loosed the bind
Aft’ some disparaged thought
Where I hit the wayside
So I no longer think of you.
…Be certain and clear,
You, gift, once so dear
That I think not of you all the time
You that waylaid
Temper, spirit, and mind
You that effulged the soul of my words
Of romance, of fiction
And other dribble of that kind
You, at my distance, seemed a creature a divine
From, several of my works, your being derived.
In life I could not have
Nor in thought shall I play
(As though thought was of any consequence, anyway),
So, I’m happy to chime
My resistance to doting
And quitted my practices
Of elegiac sonnets and poetic noting
And no longer think of you all the time
Nor do I lament, nor do I whine
I proclaim that this is…fine
And I assure you, so am I…
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 10:42 AM UTC
I'm feeling hopeless tonight
like a dream deferred
or a candle in the wind
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 12:07 AM UTC
the inconsistency in life
is enough to make anyone nauseous
the roller coaster
without any seatbelt
serotonergic and
lucid
the ride is short
and rather disappointing
destiny is for those
that believe their future isn't a choice
it's an assignment
never on time
subpar at best
common sense is scarce
a drought in unbridled undercurrents
the tide, a tug of war
between the disparaged moon
and lonely depths of the abysmal blue
lost abroad
found wandering the streets at daybreak
following nothing
but the wind
ambidextrously ambitious
and narcotically nostalgic
the passing time fills my veins with
impatience for better times
and better highs.
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 12:16 AM UTC