"downplaying" poems
Fragmented dreams and bleak realities
are all that is left of me
downplaying the past
while running from beyond
the abyss of my demise grows with passing time
Winding down and building up
the excitement of my downfall erupts
spewing all over
my soul does explode
all I ever wanted was to write a story that had never been told
My pain disrupts what I once called happiness
how could I ever become this undone
without a purpose
without a plan
my future fades
as the lights dim and my body takes a bow
I would like to thank you all
for the wondrous joy
the laughter and the beauty that was in store
never could I have imagined
that life was this sweet
maybe next time the bitterness will take a retreat
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 8:24 PM UTC
The king of cover-up is at it again,
Downplaying financial ties
And close connections with other countries,
Especially when questions arise.
First it was with Putin and Russia.
How much collusion remains to be seen.
Conspiracy in election meddling?
Whitewashing is now routine.
And then there was the hush-money
To cover-up some hanky-panky.
Dissimulation's easy when
You've got money in the banky.
It looks as though you must deny
And try to hide actions you rue,
But calling your fling "horse face," is that
A gentlemanly thing to do?
Now the cover-up deals with the Saudis--
With the crown prince and the Saudi king.
Denial…admittance…rogue players…
It has such a familiar ring.
After bragging over and over
About the millions of dollars he's made
From wealthy Saudis, his words are now
Exploding like a hand grenade.
When the leader has conflicts of interest,
Critics, pundits, and others who know
Where his interests really lie,
Shrug and say, "We told you so!"
He says he has a "natural instinct
For science." Isn't THAT a joke!
I wish his "natural instinct" was for
Telling the truth whenever he spoke.
-by Bob B (10-18-18)
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 10:34 AM UTC
On the first day of maliciousness my true love gave to me
Nuclear waste in the Pacific Sea
On the second day of maliciousness my true love gave to me
Two ballistic missiles and nuclear waste in the Pacific Sea
On the third day of maliciousness my true love gave to me
Three million toddlers' deaths, two ballistic missiles and nuclear waste in the Pacific Sea
On the fourth day of maliciousness my true love gave to me
Four massive oil leaks, three million toddlers' deaths, two ballistic missiles and nuclear waste in the Pacific Sea
On the fifth day of maliciousness my true love gave to me
Five pandemic viruses, four massive oil leaks, three million toddlers' deaths, two ballistic missiles and nuclear waste in the Pacific Sea
On the sixth day of maliciousness my true love gave to me
Six countries' electronic waste, five pandemic viruses, four massive oil leaks, three million toddlers' deaths, two ballistic missiles and nuclear waste in the Pacific Sea
On the seventh day of maliciousness my true love gave to me
Seven world-powers downplaying, six countries' electronic waste, five pandemic viruses, four massive oil leaks, three million toddlers' deaths, two ballistic missiles and nuclear waste in the Pacific Sea
On the eighth day of maliciousness my true love gave to me
Eight pointless wars, seven world-powers downplaying, six countries' electronic waste, five pandemic viruses, four massive oil leaks, three million toddlers' deaths, two ballistic missiles and nuclear waste in the Pacific Sea
On the ninth day of maliciousness my true love gave to me
Nine last elephants Asian, eight pointless wars, seven world-powers downplaying, six countries' electronic waste, five pandemic viruses, four massive oil leaks, three million toddlers' deaths, two ballistic missiles and nuclear waste in the Pacific Sea
On the tenth day of maliciousness my true love gave to me
Ten million famishing, nine last elephants Asian, eight pointless wars, seven world-powers downplaying, six countries' electronic waste, five pandemic viruses, four massive oil leaks, three million toddlers' deaths, two ballistic missiles and nuclear waste in the Pacific Sea
On the eleventh day of maliciousness my true love gave to me
Eleven million hectares deforesting, ten million famishing, nine last elephants Asian, eight pointless wars, seven world-powers downplaying, six countries' electronic waste, five pandemic viruses, four massive oil leaks, three million toddlers' deaths, two ballistic missiles and nuclear waste in the Pacific Sea
On the twelfth day of maliciousness my true love gave to me
Twelve million tonnes plastic waste, eleven million hectares deforesting, ten million famishing, nine last elephants Asian, eight pointless wars, seven world-powers downplaying, six countries' electronic waste, five pandemic viruses, four massive oil leaks, three million toddlers' deaths, two ballistic missiles and nuclear waste in the Pacific Sea
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 7:01 AM UTC
#
*What if I'm right..
and the strange things I do
(that seem so "cruel" to you)
are the only way that you can finally
become able to truly see?
What if what you once felt to be cruel
entended up being the most loving
thing you've ever experienced?
I'm not downplaying what I've done
or trying to minimize it
or justify my actions in any way at all..
I am just trying to tell you that the
original damage went into you with
severity and it's own form of selfish
violence.
Breaking that severity can never be a very pretty thing.
What if my love for you, and the
strange way that I do it
is the only thing that would have
ever worked
to help you to finally have a chance?
I am broken too.. and the only way I
can truly enter into your brokenness
is when your brokenness
b re a k s
against mine.*
#
Feb 21, 2024
Feb 21, 2024 at 10:28 PM UTC
And my problem is that i don't know
where to start or how to end.
I live in ellipses,
commas, and dramatic pauses
and I pretend that I'm doing it on purpose.
When you saw through the blur in my head,
you told me all about my heart and
how out of sync it was with my mind.
And I was sitting right next to you when
I hid a letter in a box,
tucked it right between your running shoes,
but it's December,
and you don't run when there's snow on the ground.
I told you I was a baseball field,
empty at two in the morning,
dust settling, but I don't think you
knew what I meant.
So I told you that my bathroom sink
has swallowed more demons than gallons,
and that I lay on my kitchen floor
more often than I sit on my couch,
and that I am hemorrhaging indigo
and dry-heaving maroon late at night
when you are asleep,
and maybe you only pretended
to understand what I was talking about.
They're all sick of me
ending statements with "never mind,"
downplaying my madness to keep them calm.
I told my dad I loved him for the first time
in two years, and followed up by
stealing my grandfather's anxiety medication
to sedate the butterflies in my stomach.
I like to think I know what it feels like to be dead.
Like sleep, only colder. Darker.
Less and less until I only exist as
stains on people's brains.
I always liked the number zero.
I am the journal I threw out two nights ago
without checking the pages for things to keep.
I am three days awake, bloodshot eyes,
six cups of black coffee first thing in the morning,
and black-out curtains at three in the afternoon.
I am a suicide car and a pedestrian who never looks both ways.
I'm my own worst enemy.
Someday, I'll light a few candles to set the mood and
take a bath with my toaster.
I am an appendix; nobody needs me.
I'm full of **** and I need removing.
And I guess you should know that I am not sorry.
You're going to find that letter tucked between your shoes
come spring, written by someone who isn't red stains
on bathroom linolium. She was
rainbow streaks that the sun plastered to your livingroom walls
at eight in the morning.
At least, that's what you told me.
I don't think I knew what you meant.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 2:10 AM UTC
I’d like to make a wish.
Do I get a wish or is
Society taking a pish?
I wish some people used mouthwash
By the gallon every week
Because they reek.
And, I am not talking bad
No, I am sad to say
They take my breath away
And make me **** in
Like I am hitting good ****
They really need to brush
Then floss, then swoosh.
Or, I could kick them in the toosh
And scream in their face
“You’re a disgrace!
Surely you don’t kiss your mother
With that breath that could smother
And render her gasping
Grasping for one more breath
Before her death from asphyxiation.
So, for the betterment of the nation,
Your state, county, city and block
I give your forehead a knock
Saying ‘Hello! Something died in there!”
So, when you go in there, to the john
Don’t make yourself gone
Until you have poured something in
That fetid **** above your chin;
Something that will **** the bugs
You got from too many drugs,
Too much crap and too little good.
I’m sure if you tried, you could
Free us from this stench.
Take the mouthwash off the bench
And put it into play
For the sake of the team.
No, this isn’t a dream.
I’m really saying it.
No sense downplaying it.
It’s not outrageous at all.
It’s a wake-up call.
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
years spent numbing the pain
ignoring it's sting
covering it up
downplaying the hurt it causes
it will only lead
to you feeling
an aching numbness of existence
in self inflicted solitude
stand up for yourself
Dec 19, 2024
Dec 19, 2024 at 5:48 PM UTC
you see this tree
standing out in the breeze
the only Beautiful thing
in the shadowy bland gray's
downplaying
surrounding dull greens
in my eyes
diamond tears smiling
a kiss for the wind to hug
each blossom
a memory of bliss
thinking about your lips
the metaphor of white your purity
the love I would never leave behind
you're my flowery tree of poetry
Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 1:11 PM UTC
Haunted by rejection
Caged by your selfishness
Your forceful restraint of love
Knocking the air from my lungs
Without having to throw a single punch
Surrounded by star-kissed love
Reminding me of that which you refuse
That which I have refused myself
Why did I settle for this emptiness?
My heartbeat for you lessened
Each unanswered text, every forgotten call
No time made up for those tears
The loneliness that came, nothingness
Your crass words
Lightning to my gut
Crevasse-like holes you created in me
Never quite filled by drunken nights
Those words, assuming and pompous
As if you knew my heartache
Arrogant and pretentious
Downplaying the sound of my heart
Pretending you know me
Like you ever tried to know me
I was daring, courageous
Not circumventing vulnerability
Unrelentingly, unashamedly
Convinced
How worth it we are
How worth it I am
How dare you say
"Make love to me"
As if I haven't been trying this whole time
Every second I was with you
Yearning for that love in return
Your quiet rejection inflamed my heart
Creating in me a fire
Anger masked as butterflies
I thought "if only"
If only I try harder
Then
Then you will see
How beautiful it could be
Could have been
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 2:24 AM UTC
Courtesy food pantries
Saint Eleanor's Saint Mary's,
Our Daily Bread,
the missus and yours truly (her spouse)
well stocked with good n plenti of
soap, shampoo and detergent.
Spongebob squarepants
would be in seventh heaven,
where sudsy clouds (resembling
Mister Krabs, Plankton,
Sandy Cheeks, Squidward, et cetera),
would drift across celestial vault.
Gratitude bequeathed to prophets of virtue
benevolent good samaritans
who trend righteous true
to the calling of helping hands who renew
faith (mine) in goodness of humanity
assisting not only yours truly
and the missus, but people
from South American country named Peru
or even indigenous tribes
accorded recognition comprising
population of inhabitants occupying New
Zealand, offered reparations
under the Treaty of Waitangi,
a process of reparation allowed
Maori to be fully recognized
at political level in lieu
of unfair practices inflicted upon
original occupant loosely similar
to descendents of long lost tribes of Israel,
endowed with (pure tin) pride
wishing I too could call myself proud Jew,
nevertheless attraction manifests destiny
(mine) someday to learn Hebrew.
Courtesy atheism more so Unitarianism,
I need not adopt
an explicit dogmatic, fanatic, humanistic...,
lunatic, narcissistic, puritanic... paradigm,
but only tout poetic justice (mine)
to recognize laudable traits
linkedin to orthodox faiths,
albeit rationalistic rubric
that caters to selflessness
for no other reason
than allowing, enabling, and promoting
random acts of kindness
without any forthcoming great expectation
downplaying remuneration,
no matter destitution begot mein kampf
hard times living within bleak house
slight hyperbolic exaggeration
poor as a cheesy church mouse poet.
Lemme coast to a fitting conclusion
bringing reasonable rhyming blather
originating courtesy me noggin,
within which wool doth gather
thus I a halt and
dial down philosophical lather,
cuz most likely
ye dear reader would rather
experience palmolive oil slather
preparatory to full body massage.
Dec 16, 2021
Dec 16, 2021 at 8:39 PM UTC