"embezzled" poems
Before all of this, even after all of this, I will forever be a patriot.
Before the poet in me matured and I started talking like a parrot,
The dogs of war barked and I climbed exile's fence on my own
And there I have dwelled, with nothing tangible to bring me down.
I have been on this fence so long and I will remain there forever!
Especially since the premature child is still in the incubator.
From this vantage point, I have learned never to trust any politician
I've always looked at them with mistrust, disdain, and suspicion,
Before all of this and before I ran and climbed the exile fence,
I was once mercilessly flogged, dragged and made to dance
By drugged up and coerced child soldiers with a rubber cable
They tied and spread me like a dog on the market table
I watched as innocent people were killed with a rusty knife
There, I vowed to become a fence dweller for the rest of my life!
I've been a patriot all my life but I have done it from here..safer.
From here I have seen blood spilled, hearts broken, hopes dashed,
progresses stalled, mullions embezzled, promises broken, lies told
people changed, games played, party surfed, interests prioritized.
And from this vantage point, I have learned never ever to trust any politician
I have always been right...though I have looked on with disdain, suspicion,
and operated with caution but through it all, I have remained a true patriot and a fence dweller.
.✍️©️✍️IvanBrooksPoetry.✍️©️✍️
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 8:03 PM UTC
Find a moment in which the world stops
Becomes idle for a second
Gives space to a dying mind
The membrane of a society
Driven by illusions
Is it all a façade?
The wicked ways we count our money
As if it was worth more than our soul
Worth more than sacred bodies
The wild girls tamed by the men
To close their mouths and hold their tongues
Powerless, hands bound by the ropes of promises
Promises wider than oceans
I swim deep in them
Never satisfied by a life in cold captivity
I insist these doors are left open
Submissive, obey the quiet mouths hard actions
Aching for touch, aching for love
This pretence I figure
To be a shell of what it is in books
An empty box
Embezzled with jewels
Is still an empty box
Your touch remains empty
Your heart turns it’s back to me
Turns it’s back to the warrior girls
With eyes bright with fire
Now eyes dark with ash
Now ask yourself
When did you lose the fight
Against dismissiveness?
Abandoned by the hunters
But the fights of women outweigh
Those of man
Disregarded as merely an object
But do not be fooled
My roar is louder than the thunder of a storm
My bite is harder than the sting of a hand against a thigh
My heart is larger than the mountains you can climb
My words are powerful they can break your spine
My love is fierce, as ferocious as I.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 6:23 PM UTC
The dough is molten at oven spring,
like a prayer to the historicity of things ..
Have we not imagined yesterdays
in the ritual of bread ? While our pasts
lay embezzled, on the tongues of men, the
sentiment of centuries colluded in germ,
echoing through heirloom remembrances
those floury philosophies of change.
While I stretch dough to gaze past
a windowpane, as far back as Khorasan ..
they were other names then, another
elasticity in time. Faith is a memory
of settled people in lands of milk and
honey, where every drought, every flood
spawns a new religion .. and the wheat,
always begs the same old question:
Are we there yet, in the fertile crescent
of opportunity ? The grains haven't changed
in their stolid countenance - long, subtle,
germy, cosseted. In the granaries of kings ..
they are willed by royal decree, never to die
in an eternal future and like humankind,
who score bread in the cuneiform of hearts,
grain is always thirsting to seed the land.
Sep 20, 2021
Sep 20, 2021 at 10:49 AM UTC
**Faulty was that one who said
Our life is on the line
I'll stay until the day does dawn
No apprehension ever will spawn**
*That day was hellbent
At arriving precisely on time
Checked its wristwatch twice a jiff
And stretched its bulging spine*
**He knew about his upcoming service
Ah! But he didn't commit
I stay in victory, drunk of absinthe
Let alone the clutches of a ******
*Rapture called when I wasn't listening.
Rapture wants the cash I had taken
Rapture took away my identity
For happiness is an embezzled entity*
**I pity anyone at all
Without the nerve to live
If you don't believe in anything at all
You'll never acquire true pith.**
*The exactitude of my expectation
Should not have vexed my reaction
I expected it. I saw of life's dark truth
I knew I'd pay in full.*
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC
**Maybe this is our opportunity to finally see change
we've endured a system archaic and strange
we've watched the world revolve quicker than us
because we are stranded while the rest shift on the wheels of revolution
maybe this is the time you made that resolution
to constantly remind your brother and sister
Father and mother that that position needs a new sitter
maybe this is the time to say enough is enough
however much it instills in you fear, however tough
maybe it's the time we finally say to hell with the past
because like they say to stone nothing is cast**
*and the only thing that doesn't change is change itself
otherwise for how long will one old man exploit our insecurities?
For how long are they going to tell us that change is unsafe
A different time a different king even the monarchs say
what are we saying in our deafening silence today?
maybe this is the time to tell even the most ignorant by the country mile
that only and only a different king will dry their tears and give them a smile
we've been told he's the only man with foresight
come on,how are we to judge the rest without chances
for so long change has been a distant vibration along the threads of time
and opposition to conservatism a crime
maybe it's time for that to change too
and guess who can do that, only me and you*
**maybe it's time to flip the page for this great country to start another chapter
And it doesn't have to be all smooth a flow to happily ever after
Let other dancers step to the podium
and only then can we judge their dances
maybe it's time to another hunter we handed the arrow and bow
maybe now is the time for a different color on the rainbow
It cannot forever be a constant yellow
for even God saw however beautiful they look
the skies shouldn't always bear a sparkling mellow
sometimes the sky is cloudy, orange and most times blue
maybe it's time like I clearly think from my own view
for as a generation we are being denied the opportunity of comparative history**
*what will we tell our children happened to democracy
where did we throw, they'll ask all the resilience and efficacy?
maybe it's time to get back our country from the liberators
who use the same cuffs of the past regimes to manacle this country
and have since grown tall and firmer than palm tree
we have watched them wallow and buzz for so long
but for an idea whose time has come nothing is that strong*
**maybe it's time to save the embezzled donations and every single grant
a time to say confidently "to Hell with the tyrant"
maybe it's a time to be the change we want, the answer to all of our questions
and shove those that think we can't
maybe it's time to go past the roughing waves of conservatism as they whirl
maybe it's time to save our lovely nation
for at the moment, in very wrong hands lies the Pearl.**
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 3:20 AM UTC
*A dark shadow
has been cast upon your heart,
a friendship has come apart.
Memories now destroyed,
lost are the amable words
once spoken,
all in vain,
your heart is broken.
Lies replace the truths you held onto,
precious time you invested has been embezzled - ripped off you.
Trust was swirled up,
it was carried away
with the wind on a cold, cold night,
your crying eyes were forced
to see reality in a bright
new blinding light.
A new lesson
has been painfully learned,
the silver-lining is a new beginning...
You are free of a false friendship -
you do all of the agonising,
and the winning.
You hit rock-bottom
when you got off on top.
Yes! It's their loss!
But it's you that tumbled and fell
from a very steep drop.
~Loss and gain,
love and loyalty
in vain.
By Lady R.F ©2016*
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 8:33 PM UTC
He turns his head and watches the Sunset in the west.
The last of the days light broken up into rays and beams by clouds and mountains.
The dust has settled.
The moon has risen.
And the stars glisten.
A days end embezzled by men and women who
take the nights breath away for their own pleasures.
How they forsake each other without understanding that we really do love one another.
For love is not bound by words and action but by the silent meddling of the heart
where it's only interference is the reality that we are forced to succumb to;
the real world.
The world of men and women
stealing days for the sake ideas.
Burning the nights up with incandescent glows and unnatural woes.
A world of wants and desires never met
but always sought after.
How we detest ourselves.
How we loath each other;
forgetting that it's not so bad.
It's really not so bad.
We are all lost children yearning for affection.
Mothers praying for their sons and daughters.
Soldiers in the heat of battle.
Ships lost at sea.
The hapless smiles on orphaned boys and girls in a big empty vast universe.
But the Sun still rises to the east,
and his head will turn again to greet broken Sunbeams and scatted light.
The birds will chirp.
The cars will start.
And we'll steal the day again.
All together now.
All alone.
Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 3:19 PM UTC
Gifted soul
🌜moon willow🌳
my ripple my stone
your blue lagoon
here in my inland sea
Only misery and pain
greedy green mates came.
Unsalable virtual lovers àim
flowed distant partners were.
In the power of one
you complete me my
transformer perfect mate.
In this world a mystery you are
a little bit mine, and in another
world you are my exclusive all
my everything.
In this our power of one.
we exist as stones thrown
into each others pond
see our ripples, your ink in gold.
Everything changed
❤️and nothing no thing is ever the same.💔💜💞
~~~~~~~
Mr. and Mrs .Andrews
🌜treasure loot all embezzled was😩
Oct 18, 2021
Oct 18, 2021 at 1:07 AM UTC
with jealousy,
the water memorizes the embezzled sky
and copies it with every spark.
the insects have awoken
rising from their grasses and bark.
with a pulsating surge,
the night breathes.
smitten with the silence, the birds
are sighing, killing the quiet.
this is where the night lives,
this is where it waits.
with the joy of a child, the twilight
bursts across the horizon
killing the fear of darkness.
wildflower fumes intoxicate the air,
vanquishing inhibitions and disguising them
for romance.
the night is wild with static,
but there's nothing to fear.
Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 4:40 PM UTC
my body
covered like ivory
richest of all man's desires
a disarray of
such wet dreams
my skin
delicately with
each fold and crease
a mark of unfathomable
beauty
my lips
love back
harder than any love
you give
like a silent
symphony,
whispering
my voice
speaks in the tongue of love
its native language
and only one its
ever known
my face
a ornate mask
i can be any
fantasy,
just for you, baby
my eyes
embezzled jewels
construed upon
a woeful heart
hands
hard as nails
cared for like
a trough of crystals
forever yours
so effortlessly,
unknowingly,
i have lost my true humanity.
Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 8:41 PM UTC
I extolled them as they went about their
Menial tasks in suits of silk;
Sunday bests amidst the concrete, the earth,
The broken shards of
Bamboo splintered skin, hiding interiors
And further, the broken mirrors of
The broken memories of the
Broken histories upon the
Broken backs become names wrought ancient.
Though further from fractured, a family calls,
Beholden to the absolute intent, but one wish –
Eternity amongst the bountiful brethren left behind
Atop tea-brimmed Mountains and a
One malevolent, revered benevolent,
Mao.
One more saga prerequisite this newer dynasty red –
Witness the
Wives huddled plowshares,
The daughter scribbled arithmetic
And sons assumed thrones to legacy.
I scrutinize soiled – smoke amid pear peelings,
The dirtied – unscathed and archaic,
So very fatigued – just one more nail,
For his eternity, with scratch and
Sliver of blood, a sanctity upon chin
Beyond cradled hammer,
Hand hugging thumb,
Thumb beyond nail, iron or the
Heart impaled homesick;
But I and hand asserting tie, freshly pressed,
Almost gleaming with an embezzled prestige –
Born unto Arcadia, a puzzle near complete
Continued to run, with only second’s pause to admire,
So very far from the fields of, “father,” or first blink,
While Sunday’s best weep, work and wither.
This man with joint autographed, “end,” and
Soon to be mound, history wrought dust,
A chipped Henan ceramic
And hours in attempt to breach;
Behold the back of Chen.
The title of this piece was inspired by observing constructions workers wearing suits we'd typically wear for an interview. That being said, my venture in China is near an end - years in the making. What's next? Ecuador? Japan? Morocco? Montana? Either way, I could never thank China enough for all that'd become naked before I and my pilgrimage christened, "world."
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 11:08 AM UTC
my fingers are scarred with the snap
of war's bitter teeth; they have
sunken in and dragged, sunken in
and dragged me out until i have
touched my heart's heels to every
battlefield-- made me a canopy to
encompass every blood-embezzled
decade. i have made myself a
hideous phantasm of Vietnam,
a tattered, frayed mountain-scape of
blue-belled America, a depthless
sea in which my brothers boiled.
i still hear bombs when i walk
sometimes, in the dripping black
of the nighttime sky i see the way the
mortars ripple and burn. but i have
never found another stretched-thin
soldier, with artillery rounds cradled
in their chests like i. i have been stumbling
and crying across the earth's crust,
screaming,
DRAFT ME
FIND ME
DRAFT ME--
finally the draft plucked me up and
brought me to you.
in you i have found the brother i lost
at sea, the lover boy of 19th century,
and the one i held close to my chest in
Vietnam. let me touch my hand to
yours and remember; i know i
will feel all our old words course through me,
all our ****** teeth and
crying eyes and
all the times we touched
brought back to
this moment.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC
All my life my parents always told me to dream big.
As a kid I thought to China, I could dig.
But the critics in my head keep my dreams little.
Getting tired of these mental monsters making me feel belittled.
In my dream it seems like the pest knows whats best.
All their words and whispers make me wanna second guess.
To stressed and caught up in outsiders looks.
Feels like I embezzled the thoughts, of invisable crooks.
Thought I could beat kung foo when I grabbed the pebble.
But the monsters and the crooks made the whole idea disheveled.
They eroaded my motives of keeping the real me open.
I feel the claws of the monsters on the back of my neck strockin'.
Thinking to myself I'm the only victim they've choosen.
Letting the whispers and words get into my emotions.
If only I were deaf maybe I wouldnt be the one they've choosen.
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 5:11 PM UTC
Time so fleetingly chastises the womb
Wherein all life's illusions swoon.
Embezzled like spring's petaled earthen love
The art form's swallowed once famine's begun.
Extruded through shapes devoid of angles
No more will the process be found to dangle
Above heads of ravenous vultures. Now
The swine submits before the sow.
Who now does this frame become,
when all the insides and colors run?
How did once this child breathe,
Before smooth skin had turned to leaves?
In all the time it took to capture
The memories here, and there after
Sunrise form and Sunset break,
Years elongate by Eternity’s wake.
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 7:29 PM UTC
Tapering off of life
On the whim of a nerve
What I see
What I feel
What I may or may not know
What may or may not be true
Embezzled me
Took me for a ride
Turbulent conjunction of the mind
And now
What I see
What I feel
What I never knew
Has taken my life
(C) Tiffanie Noel Doro
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
Shall I be your kin?
Void of choice ‘for
Thou are chosen
Love does not befit me
For I am only fifteen
And you, man of god,
Is six-hundred-and-sixty-si..
Nay Fifty
Christened and praised
Your lessons be paced
Whips when enraged
Your holy spirit I *******
Father, Does the feather features of my upper lip
Besiege you?
Does the pale hair
On my male chest
Deceive you?
I do not see you as
An equal
I see you as evil
My pubescent sense
Does not allow me to
Laugh out loudly at the irony
This is not my mouth, see
I cannot speak
I am not me
I am sodomized
Wistful I wish you
Would become ******
Wish my lips grew fanged
If my jaws could dismember
I’d pull you bare with bound wrist through
The bank
Pitiful
my knife will kiss you,
I thank you for every crystal
From your bleeding hands
This will do
This I will remember
Lord, why have you left him?
I thought a life in the lords light
Was to the betterment of man
And mankind
Not the remembrance of
The sins of bitter men
Guide them
O, Lord
When Chastity turns nasty
Do thou turn the other cheek?
Or chastise and despise the animosity?
Dozily
Lord, why do you test me?
Lord, have you left me?
He has come in again but
The doors open suddenly
As I look back in awe
A light shines in
A shock settles
A shadow in the door
Pleasant perfumes meddle
With the wretched room
A sense of hope
A sense of security embezzled
More abuse of my vessel
A second coming
Confronting
A poor response from the Lord
I turn my other cheeks
Raise my chin
I detest a morning sun
Come
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC
Like a bird in the sky, flying high
Or a fish that swims in the waves of amber
Don't wanna be locked in a chamber
Don't wanna be stuck in a tank; a lower class rank
Don't wanna be held down, told what to do, does anyone happen to feel this way too
Brings a tear to my eyes, my soul full of fears.
I seem to disappear in this dangerous world
stuck in the middle and the fault is my own,
just apart of this life's stepping stones, no one around me, day dreams,
and thoughts of how things could be, but then I'm shaken awake,
and from my mind there embezzled, Try to get away,
but to this life I am glued, its my independence day, it will be pursued!
Oct 26, 2011
Oct 26, 2011 at 7:58 PM UTC
You have wrongly taken my funds
In life you will face only sharp bends
Due to this loss, I am shattered
My concentration is scattered
My heart is very sadly bearing
A place in Hell you are earning
You will be by sorrow attacked
Your joy will be by fate hacked
You will suffer sheer sleeplessness
Your mind will acquire helplessness
Placing you in a drum with oil
God will start to terribly boil
As you have caused me tears
Your eyes, Angels will pierce
All your hopes, God will dash
As you have embezzled my cash
To be tortured, you will be led
God will **** your blood
You will be alive cruelly buried
As you made me feel worried
Never think you can escape
Your stealing is in God's tape.
mvvenkataraman
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
combustion was concealed
as flashes of despair,
created plaque throughout
bruising memories.
catastrophic events
euthanized rational thoughts,
as grinning cheeks sparkled
upon dawning drizzle.
dejavu sprinkled sunshine
on a fainting glow,
as the moon smiled in
devious nightmares. .
pergatory a permanent domain,
sleeplessly engaged with ghosts
haunting her final dormitory.
life embezzling imperfections,
death welcomed infectious diseases.
limbo remained faithful
between pulsating beats,
while inhaling peculiar oxygen
embezzled immortality.
pulsating heartbeat expired,
long before the coffin nail
unearthed its final target.
Apr 11, 2019
Apr 11, 2019 at 10:27 PM UTC
We are South Africans
We live in a real live circus
The Clowns run around acting serious
just one look at them walking proud
and the World laughs out loud
The Chimpanzees run amok
Their handlers ail of Culture shock
Chasing Trapeze artists round the ring
Men on stilts are finally suffering
The Lions have sold their claws and roars
For a few extra child subsidy encores
The Tigers crouch in fearful shame
The latest casualties in the Blame Game
And the crowd just stares on dazzled
As everything fails, likely embezzled...
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 11:39 AM UTC
The barrier between our body breaks the distance.
Buried beneath the yellow bench, my love for your instance.
Your braided hair is blinded by the white moon.
A blurry background filtered, embezzled with a borrowed afternoon.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 1:50 AM UTC
An illustrious rose she arose from fields dystopian.
Concrete tapestries a gallery of desecrated art.
She bless a soured dream,
willing colour on a scene
tainted monochrome.
She's the contrast in the weavings of fine art,
nexus that binds together delicate prose;
sole reason words morph effortless.
Energy tantamount to a thousand suns
and a gleam just as potent.
Thievery at play, usurped my heart;
embezzled like colonial gold,
hauled from the shipwreck of me.
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 7:15 AM UTC
Great Grandfather's clock strikes midnight
through the drawn curtains
a glint of moonlight peeps
the lacquered surface glows with
the light of another day's shadows,
twilights that faded over distant vistas,
blipping echoes from searching sonar
that beam only faint pulses
off the embezzled panels,
invisible forms in the dust specks
whose true essence remains trapped
in the hollowed pores yielding only
the residual, a genetic bond
forever cached in the organic fibers,
hovering in a dark corner of the room
over relics that reverberate each chime
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 8:30 PM UTC
The clouds wrapped the sky into a gray earth. Pounds of my heartbeats scattered, matching the rhythm of the thunder. "Protective" laced your being. I drowned in what was once a puddle of your affection. As the rolling thunder spoke, your soothing caress spoke louder. I was content. He was special. A man who was masked by masculinity. I saw through his frame. Yet he joked and told tales, he yearned to feel a certain touch.
It was early in the afternoon one day in a house my father could not afford. My father buckles me in my car seat. Irritated, as any other toddler, I kicked and screamed. I had a constant desire to know where my mother was. Unaware, I was on a new journey without her. Settling in the curiosity, I fell asleep in my car seat. I dreamt a sweet dream of being back home with my parents.
At my age, I am now aware that my mother had left me. My father had dropped me off at my grandparents. They became my guardians, and I loved them. Restless nights haunted my toddler soul and bones. I cried myself to sleep in my grandfather's arms, rocking in a rocking chair. I dreamt a sweet dream of being back home with my parents.
He was around the age of thirteen. Embezzled in basketball and video games, he was happy. The parents divorced years prior. Yet, his mother and father occupied him with gifts and gave attention.
It was a weekend in the month of February, his birthday weekend. He was due to visit with his father. He was disappointed to acknowledge his father's car to never show up. His mother smiled, sadly. "He will come next weekend, sweetheart." Next weekend turned into the next month. The next month turned into the next year. The next year turned into five years, where he had finally returned..
We swallowed abandonment to have never been digested. I twirled in the absence of my mother's departure. He caught the hurt by the neck and turned it inwards.
He understood my grief, I understood his resentment. The mutual pain outlined the shape of us. He nurtures my softly vacant heart, while I paint him pictures of new perspectives.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 8:02 PM UTC