"evaluated" poems
Last weekend was “Parent’s” weekend at Yale. A time when parents are formally invited to visit. They have receptions and other events - but no potato-sack races (which is disappointing). My parents couldn’t come, they’ve never come to parent’s weekend, but Leong’s parents came again, from Macao, China, a 16,060-mile round trip.
There was a time when boys could tank my self-confidence with a word. When the male gaze seemed overpowering. I’d felt constantly evaluated - but I’ve evolved - somewhat. We’re going to a party. Lisa, Leong, Sunny, Anna and I - we’ve got our shine on and we’re drawing looks. Well, ok, Lisa’s drawing looks and I’m in the general frame.
Lisa sneezed, “The air quality’s bad tonight,” she announced, wiping her nose with a Kleenex.
“I don’t have any allergies,” I bragged. “Me neither,” Leong added.
“If you can breathe the air in China,” I said, “You’re golden.”
Leong laughed “Tài zhēnshí liǎo,” (Too true!) She agreed.
As we left the more street-lit part of the path, the moon, wandering in and out of the clouds, created moving shadows that peopled the darkness with phantoms. Was that impression the paranoia of fatigue? I haven’t been getting much sleep lately. Or maybe it’s October and Halloween’s just around the corner.
I was walking in the rear, nestled in the mingled scents of my roommates' perfumes that, like rare blossoms, enchanted and excited the child in me. I wasn’t paying attention, and I stubbed my toe on a misaligned sidewalk tile. Don’t you hate the gap between stubbing your toe and feeling the pain?
Oct 11, 2023
Oct 11, 2023 at 8:15 PM UTC
I fell into a dream
waking up into a
cookie-scented utopia
of apostrophes that indicated
ownership
because it was Marc's cookie
and participles grasped and
secured
like a balloon tied to a toddler's hand
I fell into a dream
where nothing was kool or
rite
and everything had been
twice read, reviewed, evaluated, and
deemed worthy
like the cupcakes that get placed
on the plate in a
Cupcake War
I fell into a dream
of silence during silent work time
not invaded by a slithering serpent
fork-tongued and effulgent with ideas
expressing expressions
idioms cliches redundancies falsehoods
lies
and the silence hung like
an anticipated snow
cold cloaking with excitement
and a feeling of being completely
awake.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 11:26 AM UTC
Did you say laughter is the best medicine?
what is it that's ailing you, that you need this medicine for?
we are concerned with your mental and physical health
laughter is not good unless prescribed and monitored
laughing uncontrollably is a sign of drug abuse
laughing hysterically is a sign of mental disorder
laughing too much can damage joy receptors
joy receptor drainage is #1 cause of sadness, and every other disease
Joyflow is the best medicine to control laughter flow
Joyflow is recommended by all doctors everywhere
*Joyflow may cause side effects including, but not limited to sadness, nausea, sterilization(good), sudden death, heartburn, diabetes, cancer, brain bleeds etc.
We are very concerned with your state of well-being
you are addicted to laughter, and not able to make logical decisions
you are over-weight and under-developed mentally
this police officer is taking you to a place to be evaluated
put your hands behind your back and do not resist
resisting an officer is a crime, and you will have jail time waiting if you pass evaluation
we will also give you something for the crying, called FlowNoMore
we work for you to stop tears and let joy flow the healthy way
Oct 19, 2021
Oct 19, 2021 at 2:27 PM UTC
"What's wrong with you?" he asked through a chuckle, and then it hit me. I knew exactly what was wrong with me. I was passionate about things, and never about people. I had loved people, but always platonically, or platonic and gilded with a crush or wrapped in lust that I always brushed off with innuendos and flippancy. I had never loved another person the way I loved twisting my brain around a calculus problem or constructing a flame chart. I had thought of people in a romantic sense more than I had evaluated people for science bowl, but lust and love had never consumed me as the issue of organizing practice and evaluation and cuts within the handspan of a month. I always fell in love with things, and never with people, and that's why already, not even 16 yet, I've reconciled myself to die alone.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 6:01 PM UTC
I looked around me
For a noble man
Someone who could lead
A man a child could trust
Some man who never cheated
A man not owned by money
Some man who wouldn't lie
A man a child would trust
Some man that loves his God
Well he was hard to find
I looked at all the presidents
In the past United States
I evaluated judges and lawyers
I checked out sailors, doctors and farmers
Just for one honest man
But none of them met the criteria
Until I remembered
Perhaps there is one
Just maybe…just maybe…
Barrack Obama
--------------------------------------------------------
I believe time will bear that out.
That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.
Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 9:37 AM UTC
Eyes tightly shut, I count to a safe number and turn the switch
On
Off
On
Off
On
On?
On is where my demons lie,
where the obsessive
counting , swallowing and numbers
clutch at me.
Where I see darkness even when my eyes are
open,
where being awake is no consolation.
All my scars are exposed, my anxiety evaluated and
my fear is exposed.
Off?
I'm no longer me.
The material is ironed out, I fluctuate and bend.
I am false.
I make sounds which are not my own,
forget myself.
I forget to clutch at you.
You're amongst my demons,
often
you are my demons.
And there lie my choices,
if choice even exists
at all.
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
I know you are better than that.
It angers and frustrates me how;
Childish and ill-disciplined you can be.
A motto in which you follow unknowingly,
"Think before"
"Act later."
Think about us.
Think of how people see you when you are like that.
It disappoints me and has drawn me
To the point of a deepening depression when it comes to mind.
To see your role model disobey and,
Throw everything they have taught you,
Out the window.
We learn by example but have you
Evaluated your actions, especially
The ones' you exhibit to us?
It's your time to make a change.
Your life will fall apart if this continues.
I write this as a wake-up call.
Not only because I love you but
To see you become a better person.
It is your choice.
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 9:53 AM UTC
You look down on me from supposed heights.
You think yourself the world's axis.
You exercise control at every chance.
You spy on me like a vulture,
waiting for a chance to feast upon my carcass.
You think I don't notice.
Tinted windows hide not identity!
You will lose this game you play,
for no one plays it, but you.
I will continue, regardless of you
for in my world, you do not matter.
The things you do are inconsequential
My mission calls me higher.
Stay in the world you've schemed yourself
I had evaluated you as an equal,
how far did discernment deceive.
I name you
not even worthy enough
to be named
my nemesis
Jun 1, 2012
Jun 1, 2012 at 11:39 PM UTC
She evaluated,
assessed and condemned
the mind,
and slights of tongue
but never attempted
to glimpse
inside my heart
which always swelled and heaved.
Those early weekend mornings
spent alone
while they slept
and the sun climbed
broadly in the sky
were only safe because
of the proximity
of their souls,
her soul.
Maybe the outside
doesn't always reflect
what it can
or should
or doesn't show but feels
in vast measure
the way way a child feels
he's being carried.
Now idle winds blow
seething to be old
and free
of the minds own
burdensome choices
and rhetoric
about the ice
never again getting to melt.
Never being freed
to move from solid state
through flowability,
then wind its way
with out weight
down the road
toward yet another
chance at redemption.
Oct 9, 2010
Oct 9, 2010 at 3:45 AM UTC
Your lust for life,
became evaluated to a placid sigh
while the hollow father figure
trips on a promise
and vanished to a commonplace
hello
Was this where your journey began?
Haltered bones in skin
quivering against the flesh
wide canvas that unraveled to
just a piece of thread
spun colours
leaking into pavements
that swallowed the beauty whole
like ****** woman with teeth between their thighs
who used their weapons to disguise
the strength of a man
compressing blood to inches
his appendix
standing
proud
weakened by the wringing of moisture
Winding up people like
puppets caught in string
We use the tools to better
ourselves but we’ve become so mean
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 7:30 PM UTC
A Prof. Ed. subject – Curriculum Development
The “total learning experience” subject to assessment
Assessed, Hidden, Learned & other types
Curriculum is designed for our school lives
This mechanism must be evaluated
In a school to be accredited
Curriculum undergoes planning, implementation & evaluation
It experiences innovations as education goes on!
-04/01/2017
(Dumarao)
*PEN Poems
Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 9:58 PM UTC
I uttered those words
Without understanding their true meaning
How ignorant of me
The look on your face
Killed me
Figuratively
It made me wish
I could take it all back
Two words
With honest intent
Changed this game forever
I have never before
More closely evaluated my life
Than when I said "Check mate"
And you still had a move to make
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 1:28 PM UTC
I apologize if I'm too persistent in telling you that you matter to me and my heart in ways no one ever has. I've become melancholy in the thought of being alone since I have never been treated like anything but a waste of space and values on a clock. Years have gone by since I've felt like I truly existed to anyone for reasons beyond carnal need and emotional comprehension. I'm not accustomed to feeling a purpose. I've become distant from my own mental standpoint and blood-pumping center whereas I can find no direction. I've been abandoned by those who claimed they would never surrender. I've been damaged by those who stated they could never, would never, misuse me.
When you re-arrived in this shattered existence of mine and evaluated me as an actual being with sentimental value, instead of falling apart, I found myself falling together. Every last piece of me discovering the significance of who I am, always have been, and hopefully always will be. I lost multiple opportunities in which I could express to you the amount I care for your entire essence, I could beg to show you now. However, I will do so as you're willing.
Prepared.
Consenting.
Wanting.
You appeared in my life and became a part of the character I never expected to be. "Tu me manques." You are missing from me.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 9:40 PM UTC
Hideous static,
dreams orbiting,
a dark planet,
granular daydreams,
gasps of conversation,
footfall drowns out conscience,
layered chatter to infinity,
that which is not man
......bleeps.............
a regret rimmed thought,
............afternoon's perpetual zombies.........
plucking at a keyboard's harp strings,
evaluated,
numerical data streams
no contemplation will set you free,
from 8 hours dragging on,
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 11:52 AM UTC
I ********* random throated titles,
how do they taste aloud,
in the early bedroom air,
where poems complete,
must at day's end return,
to go to breathe,
*(to be reread and merit evaluated in the honesty of the
ColorlessNight)*
to meet a state of completion,
worth writing, this new conception,
for the team's tryouts, a new notion?
she
hears my desalinated rumbling mumbles,
"say what you said again,"
demurring t'was nothing,
but she won't be deferred not,
she knows better the
my~ways
than me,
half or mostly asleep,
she insistent tough,
even though she won't recall,
seconds later,
nonetheless,
"tell me what you said!"
easier to confess
the title of a poem next
trying, tasting than defer,
soon thereafter Easy Button hit,
it,
writes itself:
To Be With You
*to be with you,
mon raison d'être,
the one, the only,
the never lonely season
my valid lateness excuse, teach!
my validity, my reasoning,
my incensed senses present proof,
my existence passport stamped,
boy, you are poem purposed,
to be with her!*
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 8:42 AM UTC
Oh what a wonderful phase
We are in right now, us five girlfriends,
With defunct love lives and no immediate hope
of securing a boyfriend.
Oh what freedom there is, in
branding ourselves "unaffordable platinums",
And priding ourselves at being too good for
those mortal, fallible, self-proclaimed "alpha" men.
Such hypocrites we are, actually,
Ridiculing and belittling that cute guy,
Still discussing his every move, nudging
and giggling at each other when he passes by.
But hey, call us hypocrites, evil, mean-
All of it we whole-heartedly accept.
Right now, we're living life in moments,
And our bucket list of madness, we mean to "check"-
Aimless flirting - check!
Pointless bedtime discussions - check!
Choosing a guy and then dissecting
His every habit - check,
His dressing style- check,
His twinkling eyes- check,
That had met ours today over lunch break- YES! Check!,
His last aloof message- check,
Sending an even more curt response- check,
Our hidden hopes that he would reply,
With affectionate words and also apologize,
For all the times he wasn't all that nice- wistful check.
Oh we're a bundle of emotions, us five,
Sans pressures and restrictions that a guy brings along,
Sans complexities and compulsions that come free
With his supplies of testosterone.
So, broadcasting this to all you gentlemen out there,
If you ever venture into our line of sight,
Prepare to be scrutinised, evaluated, and then rejected outright,
By this precious, exuberant pack of platinum five.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 2:27 PM UTC
You’ve changed
imperceptibly yet obviously
since the last time
You’ve changed
something has shadowed
your sunshine
Clouded things
You’ve changed
you dress impeccably still
and wear your heart on your sleeve
embroidered with care
into the fabric of you
You’ve changed
I see age creeping into the corners of your eyes
edging into the mirrors
framing the light
claiming you
You’ve changed
the things we shared
are now past
distant
and our language
of intimacy
forgotten
shifted
to polite familiarity
lacking finesse
I’ve changed
Moving quietly away
from the totem
that was you
re-evaluated what it was
reviewed assumptions
in detail
in colour
and learned
evolved
We’ve changed
lost our polarity
the semblance of kindred-ness
that we celebrated
valued and cosseted
we have let go
moved
realised
and grown
Apr 16, 2012
Apr 16, 2012 at 6:07 AM UTC
Sedated and initiated my feelings have been
evaluated, and been found wanting.
Frayed dreams lie unravelling in the
decayed recesses of my mind.
Laid bare they seem displaced
and out of place with reality.
Concentrate, I tell myself,
eradicate, confiscate those decayed dreams
wipe the slate clean, chalk it all up to life
and it's experiences.
Better to take the bitter pill called reality
than eat the decay of a pretend life.
Wipe the slate clean, be born anew
culminate in a straight jacket, be the bait
for fate to step in and renew you.
Liberate, agitate, evaluate, educate yourself.
Don't give in. Don't give up, life is for living
good or bad, wipe the slate clean.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
My Valued Muse
Can I call you my home?
As home is where heart is,
Shield to my tender wants,
The ****** of my inner thoughts.
Can I call you by my name? As name publicly identifies,
My tag, in every good or bad,
You chose to happily claim.
Can I call you my investment? As investment is for future security,
Planned and evaluated carefully
No regrets, I venture capital happily.
Can I call you my achievement?
An achievement I am proud of,
To open sky, I announce quite often,
Loud and clear your
Goals are met
Can I call you my heart?
As heart is the regulator of all
One's thinking and actions,
Without any change of outer being.
Can I call you my body?
As miles apart, I bleed from a cut,
One you experienced whilst cooking,
My body forever linked to yours.
Can I call you my public officer,
As you announce my name in parts unseen,
Fame simply from being a disciple of love,
My name you broadcast to thousands.
Can I call you my book?
With chapters and pages,
Organized with my attitude and silly wits,
Chapters in a storyline that carries my act.
Can I call you my Iife?
As every possession of yours is valued,
As dear to me in every way,
As it is to you ... My existence rests with you.
©Perveiz Ali
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 6:15 AM UTC
In Meditative state
with open third eye
under golden moon
I ventured outward.
Out to visit the timelines
of Earths future.
My ticket was heartbeat
My intention to learn.
I investigated,
evaluated,
and witnessed
more and more
possibilities.
Some bleak
at mercy of evil ones
that still control
but are loosing ground.
Some riding waves
of peace and compassion.
On returning I knew the answer
and went to the task of
harnessing it
of distributing it
of living it.
The answer LOVE
Its in all human forms
just needs to be
accessed and nurtured.
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 10:10 AM UTC
Mary Jane here we go again
Just me and you on this private plane
We hit a few turbulents from the ****
But we were able to maintain and came back strong
We should not be doing this
But how can something so right be so wrong
-
And now we are faded
Out of space, this world we evaded
On a new level, we evaluated
Inner peace, we mediated
Inner circle, no blunts rotated
Mental peace, we medicated
-
Mary Jane here we go again
On this journey, you and I
I was lost until you heard my cries
And as we watch how time flies
I no longer feel lonely with you by my side
Take me along on your ride
As you cruise through my mind
-
Lowkie ©
Dec 5, 2020
Dec 5, 2020 at 11:50 AM UTC
It saddens me to watch women
They're so busy
Proving their worth at work
Because it was not always an option
Not their fault.
But was it man's fault?
Purely stripped down of the powerstruggle?
No.
Someone had to look after children
It was a necessity, survival of the race
Pure and simple.
I've been trained, evaluated and promoted
By men not women
Miss Professional Climber
It might intrest you to know
That I didn't blow them to get ahead
If I didn't have skills
That would've reflected poorly
On the man who put me there
And sweety, he'a not an idiot
But I'm starting to think that you are.
In business Time is still Money
It saddens me to watch women
Trying to live up to the mother
In an ideal world
Indeed in a movie
Feeling guilty for things they can't help
Indeed for being a mere human
It's rarely the parents' fault
For if they knew better
They would've done better
Pure and simple.
It saddens me to watch women
Trying to have the perfect body
Sure men can be cruel
But is it really all because of them?
Are they the ones greedily
Grasping on to a gossip magazine
Inviting their friends
To judge others like it's a social event
Spending hours in front of the mirror
When all they needed is to take a shower
Clean clothes, mascara and eyeliner
Never heard a man complain
About the natural look
And when asked
He didn't have the first idea
What else I would've needed.
Are we really doing this
To lure in the perfect man
You know the one that in reality
Doesn't know why you want a thighgap
Because he doesn't know what it is!
And if he does
He didn't think to check that you had one
When he asked you out.
Women blame men for only wanting one thing
And he's definitely a pig
When he talks to your *****
It may surprise the fairer ***
That according to a poll
The first thing men really notice
Are the eyes and the smile
And sure men tend to look at other women
But studies show that
Not only can they not help it
They don't even remember having seen her in the first place
So who are the real ******** here?
Is it not the women themselves?
It's more than true
That women don't dress for men
They dress for other women
Women don't want to be perfect mothers
Purely for their children
but for other mothers
Women don't want to be bosses
Because it reflects their personal power
but because they want to dominate other women
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 12:02 PM UTC
For centuries I took on different monikers
Of what America has labelled me
If I was African in Europe or Spain
They won't say African-Spaniard or African-European they was just label me as a black person born in Spain or Europe
It would seem to fly in the face of this rhetorical statement that yet hasn't been evaluated
But only in America I have a certain label and class mostly because of a race
Check out the statistics
200 years ago I was called *****
50 years later I am called colored
50 years later I am called *****
25 years later I'm called black
25 years later I am called African American
This **** doesn't add up so I had
To re-add my history and subtract the ********
That's getting spit from.the pulpits
The pimps that is
They dipped there tongue in scorching sphere
Then say they are luminous in the atmosphere
A holy ghost more like a holy hoax
I been lied to about my history
The more I discover the more I recognized
That blacks the true lost Israelites
Have built American and formed pretty muxh every innovation you can think of
Not to mention the whites folks that only had the
Money and resources then take credit as there
Own plagiarism at its best
No offense to white folks
But truthful white folks know where I'm
Going with this
Racialist to divide races to keep one superior
And the other inferior
Strain sweat blood tears instill the deepest fears
For four hundred plus years
Can't even get an even score society to sore
When a black man rises he look upon as a terrorist
To the secret entities they lie within the government
Why did Hoover and his gang assasinated Malcolm X and Medgar Evers huh?? Where they that terrified
Of a rise of a Black.Nation??
So I'm.denouncing my citizen ship under the alias African American I'm a black Hebrew a stolen one at that lol
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 9:16 AM UTC