"dumbness" poems
Whirlpool of whirling quaint
Inequality brewing in the
Winepress of smithereens
Fragile polity.
Voices of weariness cried
Out from the wasteyard of
Waste for succour,
Pointing fingers of
Recrimination towards
The abyss of drouth ,
Entangled in conflicts
Of interest.
Winds of improvised emblem
Bearing hunchback of
Woes,
Raising hands from the
Drowning deep sea
For rescue like
A dejected beautiful
Vigaro in a
Turbulent ocean of quarrel
With her spouse.
Whereas reddish fluids of life
Runs across the same veins
And arteries of haves
And haves-not but
Cottage of interests
Hoisting avalanche of
Rainbow-coloured flags
Standing aloof on the
Pole of misrule,
Demarcating their interests.
No accommodation for wants
In the corridor of affluence.
Wants on a trade mission
With wealthy but caged in
The confinement of wealth.
Winds of inequality blew
Whirler of wants into
The marrow of the
Haves-not.
Rains of inequality passing
Through a lockage of lack
Into the improvised,
Doling-out poverty to
Gain the control of
Wealth.
Alas! Blindness sees inner
Vision of darkness from
The households of political
lamia.
Alas! Deafness hears
Discordant vague voices
Of failure from the forest
of frustration.
Alas! Dumbness speaks
Language of gnomes out
Of the vale of forgotten
treasures.
Alas! A four year tenancy
turning into decades
of challenges.
But we shall revive our hope
and raise our voices
tomorrow.
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 8:19 AM UTC
We humans have
Lots of silly excuses
All the time
From dusk to dawn
And in all seasons
Whether spring or autumn
And if winter or summer
We always complain for
What we don’t have
Lacking this and that
And so on..
But we never
Count our blessings
Our mind
With no retardation
Our eyes
With no blindness
Our ears
With no deafness
Our tongue
With no dumbness
And our body
With no disability at all
Even though
Most of us
Believe that
We are not talented
And lack so many skills
But we never think
How a disabled person
Got so many vibrant calibers
Some can write
With legs
Some can dance
With one leg
Some can swim
With no legs and arms
Some can paint
With no vision
And all that
Mind blowing talents
With such disabilities
Is something
To learn about
But have we
Ever thought
Why can’t
We have that abilities
And the reason is
We don’t have an urge
To do anything
We have lots of facilities
Around us
And thus we don’t need
To sharp our brains
We live in pleasures
Like in a full swing
And thus
We don’t know
The pain of a
Handicapped
The darkness
Of a blind
The communication barrier
Of a dumb
The hearing impairments
Of a deaf
The financial constraints
Of a poor
And the loneliness
Of an orphan
We humans
Born as ordinary
And thus
No need to think
As extraordinary
We mostly learn from
Our mistakes
And so about the
Urge for it
When we get
A sincere urge
It results to a
Turning point in life
So why can’t we
Challenge our disability
And make it an ability
Let’s rebound our abilities
To make it a miracle
And enjoy the worthiness of
This graceful life
Nov 17, 2019
Nov 17, 2019 at 5:36 PM UTC
Boredom kills
cheap thrills.
Nothing to do,
no one to *****
No drugs
No *****
No smokes
No fun
Think I will sit
for a bit.
Think as I scratch and twitch.
Neurotic fears
****** fantasies
Sociopathic comments
Psychopathic actions
I don't care anymore.
The fuse has been lit
and there is no water for miles.
Bang bang mother ******
bang bang boom.
Amongst the rubble a bitter poem
A poet in trouble that shouldn't have been left alone.
Burnt
Charred
Dead.
Smells like...
Agony
Fear
Dumbness
Numbness
Aggression
Depression
Hate.
Hate.
Hate.
Hate.
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 12:07 AM UTC
If Love is sacrificing all I have had,
I will embrace hatred
For you are my favorite part.
If Love will set us boundaries,
I'll call out an all-out-war
For you are worth dying for.
If Love moves in mysterious ways
Which will make our fate intertwined
Which will make our destiny falls apart
I'll be a thief to steal the pen.
If Love will make us suffer
Which these invisible chains have our bare feet
Which will ruin our veins
Then, let us together be at peace.
Might in another world,
Hatred is our wings
Revenge is an art
Mysteries are the music of the harp
And suffering is heaven.
If we can't meet on our way
I'll surrender myself on fire
Nothingness I had
Dumbness I felt
Weakness I got
Only even a second of your touch
Then, Love let define us.
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 4:00 PM UTC
A language spoken so well around the world.
My teachers would use the synonym “irony”.
I simply disagree. Sarcasm is showing the obvious by saying it isn’t. Irony is simply having the world hate you. And, being someone you’re not. It has many definitions but I’m here to talk about something else. So here goes:
Sarcasm.
A language spoken well around the world.
My teacher would use the synonym ‘irony”.
It makes things seem different.
It shows annoyance.
Some don’t get it,
But that’s the beauty of it.
Most use it for fun,
And a joke is cracked.
But some find it hurtful,
Some just can’t.
It needs emotion,
Which is something people don’t have.
Therefore always going back,
And making the joke sour.
What I love about it,
Is that anyone can speak it.
Sometimes not knowing it,
Sometimes knowing it.
But any language or sign
Can have this weird dialect.
And that’s how everyone around the world,
Becomes closer together.
Another thing to the list,
That everyone has in common.
As I say,
Some are fluent,
Some aren’t.
That’s what I appreciate,
It’s the one thing you and I have in common.
Stupidity is what it starts with,
As one points out the obvious.
Then the other emphasizes on that,
Pointing out the dumbness.
Anyone can laugh out loud,
Anyone can cry,
But it’s what keeps us together,
Our stupid sarcasm.
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 6:01 AM UTC
Beneath the shadow
of the Great Shepherd's staff,
in the green lushness of Life's plateau,
my spirit continues to laugh.
Despite the dumbness of this sheep
to His voice I've heeded.
For God's Love is greater than deep
and to His Principles, I've conceded.
My life is filled with abundance
beyond mortal imagination.
Enjoying protection from circumstance
came from obeying rules of His Holy Nation.
From displaying a submissive behavior
towards a God most divine,
I'm covered with blessings from my Savior
and reside in green meadows until Eternity's time.
Jul 26, 2012
Jul 26, 2012 at 11:39 AM UTC
To be awake,
to be blind,
I’ve never understood the difference.
On a parkbench,
on a streetcorner,
silent, idle, waiting
for sadness, or the lack of it,
waiting
for the excess of it;
to be awake, to not know
is there a difference?
In the water,
submerged
floating, sinking, drowning
in sadness, or the lack of it,
smothered
by the excess of it;
When I awake, I am blind,
When I awake, I do not know,
When I wait for the bus,
on the street corner,
I am blind.
When I am sinking, baptized, or drowning,
I am dumb.
I am always
drowning in sadness, or the absence of it.
I am always
drowning in sadness, or the excess of it.
I am always floating
in the not knowing,
always smothered
by the dumbness of it all.
Do you feel the same? Choked to death
by melancholy?
Does some thick smoke cloud up
your lungs?
Is it the melancholy? Is it the
sadness?
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 4:35 AM UTC
So tired
Back to work and then there's this social event and that social event
and the last one is the best one and I'm still trying to get over not having
last years job that was taken from me and given to you and still
trying not to even think about this because this is a whole new year and
Driving past Napa Valley's Wineries
Hotels, Buses, wine
Everything wine and I don't know where I'm going
My GPS broke, and the directions are drive straight and you'll see it
Suburbia has turned into true wealth
I've gone back in time, wine Haciendas on hill tops
like feudal mansions, waiting for the peasants to do the actual
work of wine, the dirt and the sweat of wine as the owners
twiddle their thumbs and worry about the stock market and their wine
I arrive at my Castle. For a few moments I will be allowed to taste
the lifestyle of the wine and pretend that I too belong in this castle
watching grapes ripen and waiting for the teaming hordes to do my work
and the mechanical wine processors sit idly waiting for the grapes and I feel a tinge of
sadness and fear for the grapes to be processed like in a slaughter house
until I realize they are only fruit, and not mammals
And on the hot deck overlooking the beautiful, silent valley with grapes ripening before
our eyes the only chair left is next to you
I sit down and look to my right and I see the woman who I feared would take my job and now did
and I wonder how it is that this has happened that I've driven for miles in the hot sun
through miles of grapevines only to be made to sit next to you who jealously drooled over
my job and could never say anything good about my work and then you won.
And we talk and I'm very clever and you don't like that because I'm supposed to be stupid
and it's supposed to be obvious why you got the job not me and not some seniority thing
and you say nothing nice, and it's only me keeping up a charade of conversation that
could turn ugly at the drop of a pin but doesn't due to my skill
and you then leave made uncomfortable by the evidence of my continued existence
and lack of dumbness
And it's only later that I realize in my imagination I wanted to hurl you from the deck
and into the wine press
Aug 19, 2012
Aug 19, 2012 at 12:25 AM UTC
Let us Rise and Rejoice for the Wise Controllers of the Streets
Please give praise for the Keepers of Asinine Righteousness
Who have the power to read our minds easy as giving sweets
Esteemed Professors who are World Experts with Greatness
In Neuro-linguistic programming and know all the upbeats
For example anybody with working eyes can see with no cheats
The woman's complexions is not Black even without clearness
Alas I make a joke and lightheartedly say its Black in mirths
Nobel NLP Programmers jump in glee and frenzied eagerness
That is Trigger to void progressive actions with that lady petite
So Professors et vacuous masses devoid of brains go on heats
Sprinkling Blacks all over in project as useless as their dumbness
Tell not dorks I do not see her as black in any way but a tease
Another deluded wasted efforts from the addicted mindlesses
The poor lass graced with honey-gold skin tone is not for meets
Crass semi-illiterates play mind games on levels of bog peats
Psychotic obsessed nonentities with deluded tendentiousness
As if there's a meeting of minds with piffling anodyne greats
Dumbos declaring we are playing with your mind in earness
Show me how a genius compares with Quixotic foolishness
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 2:27 PM UTC
There’s a cloak I keep around
A fine, invisible one
One cannot feel its texture,
Or play with it for fun.
I can’t hear its many sounds
And neither can I see
The object of my leisure
A worker’s company.
How do I know it exists?
Perhaps I fool my brain
It’s a phantom wisp of air
That somehow hides my pain
That helps calm when one persists
In hurting what’s inside
The worn bubble worse for wear
When all weak tears are dried.
When internal demons wake
The cloth begins to fray
When the heart is torn apart
The stitches do not stay
The joints start to tear and break
Grow weak with weeping thread,
The engine now cannot start
One that was always dead.
Through the holes they find the *****
Some fellows in my land
Working their way through the fold
Turning stone to mere sand.
Why do they not stop to think
‘What is this good fabric?
Looking so when once so bold
Despicable magic!’
Therein lies the bitter truth
The folly of our time
They cannot see the poor cloak
As it is in this rhyme!
Only the wearer can sleuth
Which holes made when, are where
Through dumbness, anger it soaks
Each cruel word, each harsh stare.
Pull it closer, guard within
The fragile soul and smile
Hide well, know with clarity
That it is worth your while
Each mistake you call a sin
Throw it outside the cloth
With faithful integrity
Forgiven, not forgot.
Then build inside nerves of steel
Strength of iron so great
In the kiln of your own brick
Control what you create
Take the helm, but do not seal
The course of actions done
Know the plan, but do not trick
Make hay under the sun.
Make points clear, do not mask
With some thoughts said aloud
Keep a hat large for your head
I mean- do not be proud.
Perform with love each tough task
In your own, unique way
Care and earn, and share your bread
With every passing day.
Mend the cloak as you move on
With the good gift of life
Show it off well when you can
Fighting undeserved strife.
You don’t know why you were born
You do not have to wait
The brave roar of a lion sang
From stories of your fate.
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 3:20 PM UTC
the fungus are among us
among us, and abundance of humongous fungus
the substance spun us into funnel monkey dumbness
no longer numbness we felt the suns bliss
sun kissed wondrous fun.
feeling the youngest we dismissed all toughness
no longer rambunctious
we had won us a moral compass
complete sublime oneness
glad we had done this
we yelled cowabungas
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC
Wutsa matter wit you?
Whirr you frumm?
You from summ furren country?
Cain’t you tawk better den at?
Murruhkunz doan tawk Inglush lie cat.
We talk good Inglush. We tawk da bess Inglush.
Ain’t nobody tawk better den us.
Irregardless of whut kine uh furriner you are
You could not tawk so ignernt.
It’s a insult tah good Murrukuhns tawkin lie cat.
You should be imburrst to tawk ataway in public.
Should be ashaymt uh yerself.
Yenno, peepo c’n perject thur ignernce
’N thur lack intelluhgunce so easy.
They jess open up thur mouths
’N let the dumbness fall out
’N thur it is, fer alll to see.
Yude thank they’d realize what dumshits they are
’N not let thur mouths write checks
Thur butts cain’t cover.
But, no. They’s flappin’ thur yaps an babblin’
‘Bout nothin’ at all, ’n actin’ the pure fool
Lack thur mamas din teach them nuthin.
Well, nuthin’ good, at lease.
Me, muhseff, I thank sumbuddy
Shoulda kicked thur butts
From here ta Sundee.
But, thass jess me.
I know thurs a buncha bleedin’ heart libralls out thur
That wanna let peepo get by with crap jess ‘cause
Sumbuddy is a Niger er ‘cause they’s Messcun
Er sum kinda ******* heathen er ‘sump’n,
But I thank thass jess wrong.
Peepo gotta talk good jess to respeck the flag
’N God n’ country. Or go home.
Yeah, go on back to whatever Godless place
You ’n your race ’n yer ideas is okay.
We rilly doan need ‘em here.
We’s good, God fearing’ peepo and hard working too.
So, if that ain’t you, *** on yer camel ’n ride
Back tah whurever you cumm frumm
Till you c’n tawk good Iinglush lack decent fokes.
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
One very sunny day,
I went outside to play with friends,
Playing games with no ends,
We ran down roads with bends skipping,
Each one of us tripping,
Falling and a-slipping with joy,
Coming up with a ploy,
To catch that dreadful boy with glee,
Prank him like he did me,
"Lets tie him to a tree," Fran said,
"We'll leave him there in dread!"
How punishing for Fred, how bad,
That would not leave me glad!
"That would make me quite sad," I frowned,
"But we cannot back down!"
Then we all looked around for plans
"Lets tie his shoes to cans!"
"He'll make so much noise, and he'll blush"
Said Verutica Klush.
"We'll do that, we must rush to him,"
That plan is not to grim,
So we sent Mary Kim for shoes,
And Patrishia for glues,
Starting to work in crews as fair,
All got in on the dare,
To join cans he will wear to boots
Hearing many hollers and hoots,
At his door we placed boots with cans,
He wasn't fooled by our plans,
You just must understand one thing
And oh, the dumbness stings
We didn't hide the strings to the cans
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 1:17 PM UTC
Ditty dum, ditty doo,
Dozens of dollars disappeared,
Foolishly spent on that dame,
I would have done a dime for,
Had her dumbness died down.
Not a lick of lint in my pocket,
I reflect on our dances in the dark,
Daringly caressing her body to mine,
All of those dimes been daunted,
By my need to woo and wow her.
She had darted the way of the dime,
Out of sight, out of mind, out of spirit,
In the poverty of love and coinage,
I wallow in my woes,
As if I didn’t do this deed to myself,
Doomed from the depths of doting,
Like a ******* dodo.
They say chivalry is dead,
Yet is there nobility in poverty,
When the honest man’s motivation,
Vanishes in the night,
Into some other scrub’s arms?
A dime, a dame,
They’re all the same,
Coming and going,
The flow of cash,
The passing of lovers,
Only to learn,
That life’s one true currency,
Is the endurance of obstacles,
And we all end up bankrupt in the finale.
Dec 10, 2023
Dec 10, 2023 at 12:32 AM UTC
###
When the rose buds have bloomed
vigorous dreams have flooded the heart glee
dumbness has flashed on the pensive mood -
quaking mind has grown
into the nucleus of dragging love
ocean of emotions have catalyzed the ***** close
deep aches have popped at the heart and stone
when render has conceived
the glimmer chords have become splashed
utmost has inflamed and grown to outburst,
bursts into the fire of gaiety -
psyche has poured the fathomless passion till death
###
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
Betrayal
Has come
Hidden
But visible
Left to be found
Surprising
Yet not
Sharp
Like a dagger
A piercing
Of safety
Dull
Like concussion
A kick
In the heart
Damaged
Are children
Broken
Is Trust
Weakened
Are families
Branches
Are Cut
Betrayal
Of hearts
Assumes
Dumbness
Of victims
A slur
On humanity
Driven
By
Self
Betrayal
Of union
Years of great effort
Crumble
Like sandcastles
Under your feet
Betrayal
Great robber
Of my human
Dignity
Futures are frozen
Our cords
Are cut
Betrayal
Most human
Act
Of cowardice
Unspoken
Discovered
We meet
To part
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 3:03 PM UTC
Today was a dark day
I am hollow as always
(Except when I'm bursting at the seams)
It seems...
That we always come back to this space
This empty mindspace
Sorrow and numbness
Fueling my dumbness
What if brain cells died every time I cried
I would be doomed
So we enter the gloom
Today was a dark day
And tomorrow will burn my eyes
Light and love will be found all around me
Fueling the fire
I already have everything I desire
So today was a dark day
But tomorrow will be sunshine and daisies
I always hated daises
But I soak up the sunshine like a cat curling up in its warmth
You bring on the cold
But I'm here to weather the storm
I will always return to the sun
I will always come back to the moon
I'm a sword sheathed in darkness
But I'm getting ready to glint and shine
Happiness will be yours and mine
Nov 30, 2022
Nov 30, 2022 at 12:28 AM UTC
Please don't get me wrong.
I don't really love you,
Not even like you at the very least, I usually hate you very much.
I hate the way you tease me,
The way you smile when I get super irritated,
The way you laugh at everything I say and do,
I hate it when you don't appear at times when I expect you to., and when I look for you.
I hate it when you're effortlessly so good at everything,
When you set anything into motion with your little words,
I hate it when you suddenly move so close to me. When you make my heartbeat so fast.
I hate everything about you,
I hate it when you become serious.,
When you look at me with your soulful eyes,
And so easily takes my breath away.
I hate it when you say "please, don't go." when I say I really, really have to go.
I hate it when you don't look at me the entire day.
I hate it even more when you're away.
I hate to admit the fact that I feel lonely without you.
It's as if I'm not complete.
I know I'm dumb,
But I didn't expect my dumbness to go this far.
I can't believe, I fell inlove with the person I hate the most.
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 11:25 AM UTC
I want to do fun things
like sing, joy bring and blow some smoke rings.
I wanna do so many things I know make no sense,
but somehow the dumbness of the act brings a rush of childhood innocence
so in my own defense
******* Disney told me to not grow up
So I got drunk and acted dumb thinking I'd never be grown up
but man I've drank til I've thrown up
bone dry lips chucking fluids from the stomach corrupted guts
**** outta luck and then you say maybe it is about time to grow up.
But **** that I wanna drive in cars above permissible speeds
and I've had my car taken away for doing the deed
highway tow truck repossession sessions
is bad endings
sorry we'll have to call a cab friends.
But that's not where the night ends.
Lets take these bad feelings and squeeze em into a bottle
examine and give them meaning. Or am I dreaming?
How can I still aspire to admire those who do stupid things like set things on fire?
I am no burning man.
But like I said, fun things is what I wanna do.
Take too many drugs and get in an **** somewhere like Bonnaroo.
Like what would you do? these thoughts never occur to you,
I do dumb things not for wealth
I'm doing them for myself.
I wanna dress up as the grim reaper and photobomb the pictures at every marriage for money,
now THAT'D be funny.
I'd look back and laugh and one day they'd look back and say who's that?
Or maybe they won't.
Or maybe they will when it is over cause let's face it, it's a ******* wedding photo.
What's the point of looking you were there and you lived it.
But please spend copious amounts of money for the memories you might one day lose.
Spend all your money.
Your dimes, nickles, dollars, buy gold and diamond rings,
You do that dumb **** and I'll do fun things.
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 2:57 PM UTC
The words I cannot grasp,
whole dreamscapes painted within me.
Oh, the grand copyist he just might be able,
so much better able,
scrawling pictures of your calls fervently.
Recording hue and thought,
and those oceanic depths,
doing what I can only wish for, pray for.
Yet, I do hear.
I do hear it, hear you
Your words, those words,
and of that I am so certain.
So sure of those words, deep and hazy
and so warm, oh so warm.
The sound, the tremulous tone, makes one drunk
so ruined to hear it even only in dream,
even only in furtive whispers.
Ebrietas you are, Daughter of the Cosmos,
bringer of enlightenment through dumbness.
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 11:42 AM UTC
Upon a crest of ruby flames,
Was writ a list of seven names:
Of gods and goddesses untold
Whose quiet tenets never sold.
Mavis was the nymph of pallor,
Patron saint of putrid squalor.
Watching, with a tender eye,
The lives of those resigned to die.
Beatrice, with hair of scarlet,
Took the throne of seething harlot.
Harbinger of crippling sadness;
Queen of darkness, death, and madness.
Paul, whose eyes had never wept,
Ensured that secrets would be kept.
Cursed with blindness, deafness, dumbness,
A walking vault of tortured numbness.
Talim broke her mother's heart,
And many others from the start.
She, the deity of glee,
Knew ignorance and apathy.
Alastair, the golden thief,
Toed the boundaries of grief,
He sang to people with his flute
That there was more to life than loot.
Tess won't look you in the eyes;
Mistress of the compromise;
Smiling, even as she hums,
That "maybe next time" never comes.
Alex comes to break the silence,
God of wishes, drugs, and violence.
Crashing through with mighty clamour;
Hope the nail, and he the hammer.
Of all the deities we cherish,
Even those whose memories perish,
None are sad as those who don't
Beget belief. Or can't. Or won't.
And on a crest of ruby flames,
Another list of seven names,
Whose carvings have been long forgot,
Will sit amidst our trash and rot.
Aug 29, 2010
Aug 29, 2010 at 8:14 PM UTC
I have these voices in my head
And they are constantly
At war with me
And my self esteem
These voices are sadistic
They are cruel
They constantly warp reality
I try to fight these words
Every day of my life
It's so tiring
And to be honest,
Some days I don't fight at all
I welcome the dark thoughts
Invite them over for tea
Let them completely dissolve my insides
We laugh sometimes
The voices and I.
But usually we cry
Together
To me,
Love is the way
You always manage
To silence the voices.
Just your smile
Ignites my soul
To me,
Love is the way
You make my eyes shine.
Love is the way
I could just hold your hand
For all eternity
Love is how you've turned
All of my numbness
Into pure dumbness
Love is for fools
And sinners.
*I will go to the grave
With your name on my breath.*
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 3:15 AM UTC
Is there anyone out there?
I could use a drink.
Beer?
Scotch?
Coffee?
Yes please to all three.
Ill settle for some ginger ale.
Or the sleeves of a warm sweater.
It's too **** cold.
brrr
s
h
i
v
e
r
s
s h a k i n g
Maybe get some food.
Feel the fire warming.
Anyone want to go get food?
Tacos?
Burgers?
Pizza?
Liquid lunch?
Ugh.
Cabin fever.
Lets converse and **** some time.
Also if anyone finds my ability to write,
send that ******* back to me.
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
Deaf to nature's harmony creates a deviation
not meant as God's creation.
The unnatural bent is towards
false pleasures;
fools can reflect at their leisure.
Climb an ascent and see fire in the sky
is perfect harmony as it zig zags by
but the old male beast sees only youth
when all is worn; dumbness or delusion,
it remains illusion.
Life in a greater sense is harmony not madness,
performed not by chance but in nature's fullness.
Nov 11, 2010
Nov 11, 2010 at 12:12 PM UTC