"disparagement" poems
Oh black negus. Why do you hate me so much?
Noticed I called you by your rightful title.
Negus
King, Ruler, Emperor
Not ***** or ******
The derogatory term originating from the crackers, or ***** the mild disparagement softened by society made to think that it's acceptable.
But anyway let's get back to it.
Why do you hate me?
Is it because of my full lips or my round hips?
My low tolerance for ********
The way that my stretch marks are engraved in my skin?
Or how the roots of my hair aren't so thin.
Is it my naturally sun kissed skin? Even toned complexion?
It just can't be my uncanny resemblance to Isis the Egyptian Goddess!
So why not praise me for my natural features
Why go on one knee for their paid for enhancements
Should I react like Angela Basset in Waiting to Exhale?
Screaming and shouting while my face is growing pale.
But pardon my melanin
I was perplexed by this darkness that stared at me in the mirror
That stared at me looking in my lovers eyes and taunted me
Smiles behind hidden hate they constantly berate my beauty
But pardon my melanin
My superiority is in my melanin
Encased in my skeleton
Our ancestors wouldn't like this
They would not be proud of that colorism that exist
They slander us for our features yet they list after it
This systematic thinking has our men slandering us but they won't admit
You continue to beat me down yet I am your mother.
I am the fruit of this nation.
But pardon my melanin
So I'll ask again
Why do you hate me?
We are carved in the same beauty and without each other we can't exist
I still remember the first day that we kissed but a few months later you left me for hailey in an unfortunate bliss
Melanin filled girls I am here to say
You are a queen never be afraid to be seen
The brother that disrespect and degrade are absolutely absurd!
You are not ratchet bitter or mean
Youre a stunning melanin queen
So pardon my melanin?
Naw enlightened by me melanin.
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 1:02 AM UTC
This is Seventeen.
Seventeen is loosely in the beginning of my life. Seventeen is realizing you’ve got a whole lot of life left in front of you. It is accepting that life is a page of writing that has been started, but is nowhere near finished, that a few doors have closed, but many more are still open, that some choices are irrevocable, but some may be changed yet, that there are still many what ifs that need to be figured out.
Seventeen is being caught in the limbo of being seen as an incompetent child and being forced to make adult decisions.
Seventeen is having the freedom to drive anywhere, but having a curfew to stay within.
Seventeen is losing many of the friends you used to have, but keeping the ones who are the closest to you, the ones who understand you the best, the ones you hope to have forever.
Seventeen is being able to stay up late, eating pizza in the park, and play on a playscape trying to be kids for just a little longer.
Seventeen is year long concert series and jamming out to your favorite bands covered in sweat.
Seventeen is dying your hair bright colors, much to your mother’s disparagement, and then changing it a week later.
Seventeen is being forced to choose what you want to do with the rest of your life when your favorite food changes on a daily basis and you have no idea how to function without your mom nagging you.
Seventeen is being excited, scared, sad, angry, hopeful, happy, jealous all at once and trying to deal with it, while still completing your homework on time.
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 1:12 AM UTC
1511
My country need not change her gown,
Her triple suit as sweet
As when ’twas cut at Lexington,
And first pronounced “a fit.”
Great Britain disapproves, “the stars”;
Disparagement discreet,—
There’s something in their attitude
That taunts her bayonet.
2.4k
Twice around the corner
Thrice around the bend,
Twisting through contortions
Will not make harassment end.
Disparagement aside
There's a lesson to be learnt,
That your overbearing manner
Won't prevent you being burnt.
The reflection in the mirror
Is immaculate and tight,
Actuality shows fractures
Though they're kept well out of sight.
There's a teetering fractiousness,
A blemish to your soul
And no amount of posturing
Will keep the image whole.
Your background is impressive
And scholastically well placed,
Achievement in endeavors
Show you've never been disgraced.
You're social stature's formidable
And your teeth are Oh so white,
Then why is it, that you writhe in bed
In the small hours of the night ?
Why do horrors permeate
The milky hue behind your eyes ?
What source the irritation
When the great majority complies ?
What keeps your ego dominant
When you see the weakness there,
When the light falls on your handiwork
And drives you to despair ?
Twice around the corner
Thrice around the bend,
To camouflage your character
Shall not make your problems end.
Marshalg
@theBach on sick leave
Mangere Bridge
13 October 2009
Oct 21, 2009
Oct 21, 2009 at 12:31 AM UTC
O! How I long endear myself
to thee,
in the urgency of my desire
to yield to the mercy
of this faithful destiny!
As soon I am about to commence
my new course of journey,
embracing the heath on the hills
and the dark of the mills
looking for wholehearted sincerity,
healing my long-lost gaiety,
prudence, and generosity!
O subtle, yet perilous gaiety that
was ignored by such disparagement,
and its fabulous tenacity!
Ardent, merciless tenacity!
That but shan't befriend the course
of thy adultery, yet praise thy ignominy
and infamy in an adorable, inherent manner!
But never forget that the entire breadth
of this journey
I devote to thee:
in order that thee would become my love,
my soul, and all the healthy demeanour beneath;
thou hath my life, kisses, and
the sacred secrets of my fiery health.
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 8:58 AM UTC
I'm tired.
I'm tired of hearing
words of acrimony
and disparagement.
I'm tired.
Peoples' lives
are at stake every
single day and I feel
we aren't doing enough.
Enough.
Enough with the unwillingness,
the idleness,
the dullness.
Get up.
Change the world
because you only have
so much time.
Others aren't acting,
so be the one to do.
Believe;
get rid of the skeptics.
Fight for your rights
and make sense
of the things
you could not once
understand.
Let bravery take you by the hand
This time and chase after it
Without hesitating.
Take the risk
And know that you can make
Change for the
Better.
Don't be the one to follow
the crowd or get trapped in the debris
of those who
did
not
try.
Act now.
Aid and love and cherish.
Appreciate the time given to you
and your loved ones.
Don't give up on love.
It's the one element
running through your veins
that's keeping that hole in your
heart covered.
It's taking away the emptiness.
It's keeping the world on its
feet but there is so much more
needed.
There are people without families,
food, or water.
People without hope,
faith, or will.
Who told you
that love was a waste?
Was it the one who
could not conquer it?
Because, after all,
love is man's toughest battle.
Love and care
And thought and feeling
Are the seed of
What can bloom.
Do.
Act.
Accomplish.
Never settle for less.
Because today
you are
the world's
greatest
hero.
Show us
what you can do.
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 3:41 PM UTC
1390
These held their Wick above the West—
Till when the Red declined—
Or how the Amber aided it—
Defied to be defined—
Then waned without disparagement
In a dissembling Hue
That would not let the Eye decide
Did it abide or no—
1.4k
The feeling doesn't come around very often
An old friend familiar footwise to different pastures fitting the fantasy
New experiences constructing strong someone's admirable psychology, fresh beauteous landscapes making up the ends of days that aren't quite taken for granted, but nonetheless become more and more common
As life becomes such an obvious thing to engage with, to fill the mind with an intangible, unnecessary to reconstruct explicability, defining reality
Where that ******* smirk just works, and is taken for granted
Forgive me for being jealous
As austerity and holding back defines our culture in recent times, suits and faces for hating, numbers and reports spurring disparagement, and sentiments of dream and realisation eroded and rained down with flu
Optimism becoming uphill, a difficult sentiment to come naturally, I try nonetheless when such metaphysical and intense psychedelia sits uncomfortably in the back of the mind
Fuck's sake Britain give me a break
But um..
That girl, that guy, those people, that moment in all those minds that grows from a simple glimpse of a day dream into an empowering determination, realised more and more through presences and establishments from the outside world
Those are the opportunities I'm looking for, amongst solidarity in a fluid and ****** up world
As I steal that smirk from that smug self involved person in the paradise of personality
To see into space and realise how my reflection looks good amongst such fantastical potential realisations
Yeah.. I should go to sleep, but a bit of clarity as to my direction, a little a bit of mirror monologue giving a bit of 'you're all right', well it isn't **** all to complain about.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 7:25 PM UTC
Why is there claimed a prosperity of jests
That in loneliness a compulsion does denounce
And neutral expression declares war upon itself
Where an unjust obedience encounters misfortune
A mishap that leaves an extremity of borrowed disparagement
Shouting in a weary importance of arrival whose agency is false
Leaves me, leaves me with head buried in palm
Having conversations with my tears
Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 5:20 PM UTC
My growing disdain for any semblance of a productive life has grown far greater than I could have hoped.
When once I embraced life with a wide-smiled, open-armed optimism, I have only been left with this inexorable malaise.
It is a personal strife I endure ever day. My existential outlook has collided with the nihilistic propaganda force fed to the multitudes at an alarming rate. The functions, gatherings or otherwise diminutive events of the more fortunate seem to have subsumed the necessity for a more literate or enlightened future.
The only way I see it fit to continue is routine. Routine is the leading most killer in human spontaneity. It also seems to be the leading most reason behind success. Not monetary success (although it can most certainly induce that outcome). I am talking about personal success, self-improvement, finding joy again in my most favourite and sought after past time.
I assume it is within routine where I can find this peace of mind I am searching for.
I assume this because my life has already been stricken by the deadly plight of a routine. One that has caused me to lose my footing. Rather than a routine of value and productivity, I have stumbled upon a routine of self-indulgence, disparagement, and an ever-growing urgency to carry out the most asinine tasks that no other would ever think to dwell on for more than a matter of minutes.
My personal strife is my mind.
My personal routine is my life.
Because of this, I have forced myself into solitary confinement, where my ritualized routine of the self becomes a ritualized journey towards complete insouciance.
We are the future, they proclaim.
Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 3:02 PM UTC
Haphazard soliloquy,
Uninspired philosophy.
Hello Poetry.
Streams of senseless dreams,
And many more to follow.
Swallow'd by a sense of disparagement,
Characterized by the cries in my head.
Survival of the fittest synapses.
That hold myselfs together.
I hold nary a candleless flame,
With a mind to set my minds ablaze,
with my haphazard soliloquy,
my uninspired philosophy.
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 6:43 PM UTC
Sometimes when people can’t see you for whom you are,
They try to force you to be someone you really aren’t.
Real beauty is being true to oneself, Not by trying to be someone your not
A flower cannot change its color nor can Spring become Fall.
*Don’t lose the person you really are
Because you are you and only you;
The mold was broke when they formed your star
Cheer up young one don’t be blue*
I once knew a boy who always bought shoes two sizes larger,
Because he couldn’t bare the ridicule of having small feet.
You see, when you were conceived, genetically you became one of kind.
There’s no else like you, and believe it or not we all have physical imperfections.
*Don’t lose the person you really are
Because you are you and only you;
The mold was broke when they formed your star
Cheer up young one don’t be blue*
I once knew a boy who was thin as a stalk of corn,
And he if turned sideways and stuck out his tongue, He looked like a zipper.
He would get teased unmercifully, but if he had done just one think different,
Because when you laugh at your own flaws, disparagement and criticism are defeated.
*Don’t lose the person you really are
Because you are you and only you;
The mold was broke when they formed your star
Cheer up young one don’t be blue*
**Happiness doesn’t depend on any external conditions,
it is governed by our mental attitude ~Dale Carnegie**
Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 5:06 PM UTC
Hard working father looks in the kitchen
And sees his son who he wants the best for
He wants his boy to become a man
To take everything life can give and even more
But the son has other things on his mind
Unintentionally slashes his father's dreams
To the father he's straying from the footprint path
But not everything is always as it seems
If it ain't broke how could you fix it?
Don't worry about all of your worries
One for all and all for one
Live fast die young, just have some patience
Mother loves her daughter so much
Tries to protect her from all that she can
The closer she pulls her the harder she'll push her
Both feel the other will never understand
But they know when they look deep in themselves the see each other
And after all the yelling and cursing they'll say "I love you" to one another
Somethings are easier said than done
And actions speak louder than words
When living with constant change
Get to know yourself, just take some time
We resort to name calling
When downloading and installing
Upload then uninstall
The preambles to the pitfalls
The hostile hospitality
The aromatic pheromones
But memories who've reprise their roles
And take *** shots and low blows
Overlook the unturned stones
Overgrown baby's scared
Student loans and ingrown hairs
They have an eye-witness
So they come for a search and seizure
Drastic times call for drastic measures
I mean it when I say you're really a treasure
Made of cubic zirconium and pewter
I can't confirm or deny
If it's all according to plan
And I'm inclined to decline
I just may just to your dismay
Or I plum forgot
Because I've lived my whole life with my head in a sling
I discourage the disparagement of releasing disclose information
But speak of the devil
I almost missed it
This is my own theme song so you all better get ready to sing
The piper's come to collect
Do you wish to go farther or further?
"I will take time to restore chaos and order"
Everything will be fine in the morning, so do yourself a favor and relax
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 3:45 PM UTC
Twice around the corner
Thrice around the bend,
Twisting through contortions
Will not make harassment end.
Disparagement aside
There's a lesson to be learnt,
That your overbearing manner
Won't prevent you being burnt.
The reflection in the mirror
Is immaculate and tight,
Actuality shows fractures
Though they're kept well out of sight.
There's a teetering fractiousness,
A blemish to your soul
And no amount of posturing
Will keep the image whole.
Your background is impressive
And scholastically well placed,
Achievement in endeavors
Show you've never been disgraced.
You're social stature's formidable
And your teeth are Oh so white,
Then why is it, that you writhe in bed
In the small hours of the night ?
Why do horrors permeate
The milky hue behind your eyes ?
What source the irritation
When the great majority complies ?
What keeps your ego dominant
When you see the weakness there,
When the light falls on your handiwork
And drives you to despair ?
Twice around the corner
Thrice around the bend,
To camouflage your character
Shall not make your problems end.
Marshalg
@theBach on sick leave
Mangere Bridge
13 October 2009
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 6:13 PM UTC
In that effervescent essence of elation,
Another day dawns
Twilight finds its way through time,
twisted and tied
Trembling, like the tense, tangled trees
Decadence, descending, with delicious darkness
and then vanquished, with vain valour
That day and its dawning, drowns all
that disengages my disparagement
Distastefully delectable, defenseless..
I ascend,
into this conscious realm
I transcend,
past this putrid pestilence
that plagues my existence..
Nightmares, negated by the nascent
necrosis of my negligence.
Bereavement beckons yet again,
But there is time,
There is time to taste
the tepid transience
of tomorrow..
Silently simmering within,
seraphic, sumptuous sorrow
sinks slowly,
softly..
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
Spit it out in a spray of characters,
Shuffle those thoughts onto coherent lines
Share your pain
The ****** purge
The biting bile rising
The filthy **** of
Disparagement
Legs spread wide
Slippery wet ploys
sleezy
Manipulative cuntery
The rotting festering ire
******** on the page
The purge
The last word
Leave it here, the rage
The injustice the disrespect
The insolence All left here
On this ******* page.
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 1:00 PM UTC
George had under him five cooks
of various characters and looks
with great experience of many a year
in numerous countries both far and near,
all culinary experts of great art,
who were always ready to provide
any dish the customer might decide
to order from the menu cards.
And among these fellows there was one
who in preparing fancy dishes some
might say this man a genius is,
as skills as precious and pure as his
in creating flavours of such power
are hard to find in this world of ours.
Tall he was with a face so narrow
his nose projected like an arrow,
and of his country he was so proud
that never a person was allowed
to make the slightest disparagement
without receiving an icy glance.
Disliked he was by all his fellows,
his manner haughty, hard, not mellow,
which caused all kinds of minor friction
with his colleagues in the kitchen.
From The Adventures of George
©Blair Gowrie (Roderick Macdonald)
Jun 24, 2017
Jun 24, 2017 at 12:26 AM UTC