"generalize" poems
Before I begin, allow me to explain,
I too loved.. once,
so think of me not as some cynic-
nor as a master in the ways of love-
but rather as a keen observer-
now, that may mean I have nothing to offer you-
no insider knowledge-
no secrets of love-
But I do know how to tell a true love story -
Interested?
Fantastic-
So let’s begin,
True love, if there is such a thing at all,
is like the thread that makes the cloth
you can’t tease it out-
you can’t extract meaning-
without ending up deeper in the web-
and it always remains-
hidden under layers -
In the end, that’s all you can really say about any
True love story-
They don’t generalize-
They don’t analyze-
They arent found-
They just… happen.
and that’s what makes them “true.”
But what is this coveted “love” -
the emotion?-
the act?-
the mentality?-
Love, is a constant state of illusionment-
A collective agreement amongst humans-
that it, whatever it may be, can be treated as an excuse
for recklessness, irrationality, and misplaced strife-
A quid pro quo between two individuals-
to agree that they are doing something-
anything-
other than mindlessly drudging through life-
Now that is not to say that what love creates is pointless-
I said before, I have felt the embrace of love
Love festers between individuals for so long
it has no option-
but to mould the physical to itself-
and alter our personalities-
Characterized by spontaneity-
by indulgence-
by risk-
to love is the most dangerous experience in existence-
the act of being fully vulnerable with another-
while promising not to hurt them the same-
Love is characterized by vulnerability-
and the constant fear of being hurt-
So you want to know how to write a true love story?
be honest-
dwell not on the “romantic” blindfolds that keep us irrationally seeking our partners-
dwell not on the on the memories of a love that blossomed-
reveal the core of love -
A true love story comes from gut instinct-
A true love story, comes from experience.
A true love story, if truly told, makes the stomach believe
So I said I loved once,
allow me to elaborate-
I too have felt the “butterfly stomach”
- where the insides of the lovestruck turn on their host and manifests the emotional significance of meeting “the one”
I too have spent the day daydreaming...
-Lost in the thought of “the one”, seeking brief breaks from reality in my mind between moments of utter normalcy
I too have melted into a puddle of emotion….
-lying next to “the one” as we slowly spill more and more of the secrets that bound us as individuals, joining a spirit much larger than ourselves-
I too have felt... invincible-
-to know that I’ve found something more significant than myself. Something that replaces the fear of the future.. and makes it something to look forward to.
Yes, I too have fallen in love.
and I did just that-
I fell.
..And that is my true love story-
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 2:12 AM UTC
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
Go **** yourself.
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
I don't follow.
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
You can't generalize like that.
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
All conflict in the world cannot be attributed to a single root.
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
That requires the assumption that, basically, all human values are the same.
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
That is very naive of you.
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
That is because communication and language are the only means of expression and different words acquire very different meanings not only from culture to culture but even profession to profession.
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
That's why the government is investing in that new fibre internet.
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
Well of course, all human values are essentially the same.
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
It's actually a lack of technological progression that restricts us from contacting aliens.
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
Religious conflict is far more complicated than that.
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
Go to Hell.
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
Yes
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
No
Did you know the root of all conflict in the world is miscommunication?
What do you mean?
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC
I'm so tired of the things that I fear,
And so tired of the things that I "hear"
I've never seen the end so clear,
I'm getting tired.
I used to use my mind.
I used to wonder "why".
You generalize and tell me lies
That's not the way it ought to be.
Do you really want to deal with me?
So mad.
So mean.
And the pain, as always, remains unseen...
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 9:55 PM UTC
I give in... I give in...
I wear my sweaters thin
because nothing ever feels
hyper-real
I know kids who get raw experience
yet call me the wiser
for not getting any.
No one who sits at their dinner table,
pretending to have something to write,
deserves to be tired
and so I don't catnap
under the constipated clouds
waiting for the rain.
I grow old--I grow old
I don't like my trousers rolled
as I walk down the street
watching young people
who don't give themselves a break
from hyper-living
Just keep kicking.
Not to generalize,
but it must be said
that a barbarous youth doesn't give in
until their metal beams split
and their windows come down
and their doors can't open
because of the debris
and their admirees
stand before the pile still not knowing
who they are.
(It won't make them shiver
to think you've opened up
listening to their music
unless they open
their ears for you.)
After dusting themselves off
will all the newborn adults shake hands
look back on the skyscrapers that surrounded them
and be friends?
I give in
I relax over my comfortable,
blank lines
with nothing to write
because I'm the only one
with nothing to fight.
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 5:49 PM UTC
I decided I'm goin in.
Yall dun' slipped up and left me with a pen.
It seems lately I been under-drinkin'
Over-sober over-contemplating what's been really happening.
I'm usually a lot more subtle.
I give the benefit of the doubt like I'm a Catholic priest absolving niggas' sins.
Confusing my honesty for reckless abandon-in
To your chagrin, just hecause you're unable to comprehend.
You don't move through this world in the shoes I'm in.
I bet no ones ever called you a sub-human.
Did that election make YOU question all your caucasian friends? Their motives, their thoughts, biases,
Lookin for Microaggressions?
Now those relationships are withered at the ends and it depends on larger hearts and open minds to try and mend and re-begin?
Because someone you love insulted ALL your kin.
Supporting someone who blatantly hates them.
Tunnel vision.Could only see what they wanted Sanctity of life only applies to babies aborted
Christians were thwarted!
How someone with a thumbs up from the Ku Klux have anything to do with what the Lord did?!
Granted, the deed is done and hey the truth is out!
They were wolves in sheep's clothes till the Pres. Came out
in broad daylight
He basically made it awright
to grossly generalize a race AND do so in plain sight
Now ALL the racist crazy folk are poppin at the mouth.
On social media like the 50's in the segregated south,
Spewing hate behind a screename sittin' on they mama's couch
'cept we millenials are rowdy and we'll roll up at yo house.
How's it 2017 and we still schoolin' folk?
Gotta tell you Black lives matter cause you actin like we dont.
In retrospect, it was for the best cause now we ALL woke!
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 1:57 AM UTC
Dear feminism,
You're doing it wrong.
Showcasing your gender
in physical form
does not open awareness
of a woman's
mental
and
emotional
wealth.
It merely confirms
misogynist thoughts.
If you want
to make a point,
don't generalize your targets
as pigs.
Rather,
express what makes women valuable.
Men can be deeper
than your delusions
let you know.
----------
Dear homosexual male community,
I am repulsed
that people can
associate me
with you.
Emotion
or thought
or open-mindedness
or expressiveness
should not denote
****** orientation.
I love women to the point
that I am overly chivalrous;
why should me
being in touch
with my emotions
or being different
than the
'male status quo'
change my sexuality?
P.S. - Homophobia is fear of homosexuals,
not,
as you'd havepeople believe,
the dislike or refusal
to treat the act as natural.
P.P.S. - The way
you portray yourselves,
you are still straight,
you only prefer your
women
to have a ***** attached.
----------
Dear fellow men,
A lot of you are
perverted.
You focus on
superficial things;
the *****
the rear,
the hair color,
the eyes,
the shape...
For what purpose?
It is the mind
and the personality
that matter most.
It is because of you
that women have
painted our gender
as monsters,
pigs,
rapists.
And many of you are,
because,
in your minds,
can the women give any consent?
May 16, 2010
May 16, 2010 at 2:58 PM UTC
You can only dream of
places I have been
Mentally,
All the things
I did for my family,
All they did,
instead of helping me,
Is trying to
put sense in me,
When I come to a point
Where I am
about to plead insanity,
A room of variances,
Out of body experiences,
Mental *******
Heart full of spasms,
The ones
my past couldn’t fathom,
This ain’t a struggler’s anthem,
But I can’t help but,
Generalize,
And I can’t undermine,
That I felt heaven,
At least on my fingertips,
I found hope,
At the brink of disbelief,
Don’t blame the postman,
If you put the wrong address,
Life is a *****
depending on how you dress her,
Let the broken glass,
Mess up the dresser,
Rosewood, Redwood, any wood,
If I could I would,
The more I clench my fists,
the more sand I loose,
But I choose not to,
just my screws,
My life is like a travelogue,
No just ticket needed just travel along,
Like a broken pen and a moleskin,
A DSLR and an eye to watch closely,
No backpacker,
Just a bad actor,
Modern day rye catcher,
Self financer ,
A mere puppet on the string,
That life hangs by,
finding questions to some bad answers,
Putting up with bad promise makers,
When a promise may curse,
Life is just a makeshift,
Life is what you make it,
Or make of it*
Mar 7, 2011
Mar 7, 2011 at 11:49 AM UTC
**LEAVE HATRED OUTSIDE MY DOOR
WHEN YOU COME IN**
this Notice boarded on my door
seems to have done little to impress.
the ones that come in
still read from the hate book.
speak ill of others behind their back
curse those they don't agree with
spew vitriol against all not their own
criticize food habits and dresses
castigate the new generation
find fault with the old
generalize on the basis of race religion
trifle faith belief sentiment
envy for what they don't have
intensely dislike assumed disabilities
even a squint a stammer a mole a limp
more passionate in degrading than appreciating
systems, processes, relations, actions, attitudes.
people won't mend, behind them i think,
*they're so ****** disgusting.*
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC
The world is sometimes dark and not all trees survive.
I'm not saying this because you don't know this.
I'm saying it because, sometimes, I need reminding that it's not all good.
My tree of happiness is not struggling to grow,
Leaves of fake laughter making it look pretty.
You see, I have a tendency to overanalyze, overdramatize, over-generalize, looking for the good in everyone,
Wishing on stars that all the saplings will live and grow strong.
I guess I should be careful what I wish for.
I have a hard time coming to grips with the reality that life is not
Full of good people and good intentions and good reasons.
I put myself in everyone else's shoes, seeing justifications through
Their eyes, blind and full of dust though they might be.
Because even when elm and oak trees get sick and die, I plant new seeds
And even when I have to squeeze my hips too tightly into
A child's swing set, I think I can still touch the sky
And even when I see lives cut short by guns, by drugs, by ***** abuse, suicide, gangs, cancer, hopelessness,
I don't really see the evil or the sorrow,
Only what could have been.
Only the Elysian Fields of immortal hopes and goals that now have a chance in somebody else's soul.
And even when my dreams are miscarried through open veins like exposed roots,
I feel joy.
Even when razors can't cut deep enough to remove my immediate tendrils and sprouts of pain,
Even when rivers of red on my legs don't rinse away my earthy, dark confusion,
I am happy. Deep inside,
I hope against hope that nothing will truly destroy my optimism.
Of course, as soon as I get out in the real, concrete, day-to-day, 9-to-5 (actually 8:30-to-3am) world,
I'm going to be crushed.
I'm going to find that seed of darkness and sorrow and pain that starts growing inside everyone.
From the time of our first skinned knee and broken promise, first heartbreak and the first time our dreams didn't come true,
The seed starts to grow.
I know I'll find mine eventually,
I think it's been mulched under 5 feet, 6 inches of forced smiles
And Sundays under that maple tree I could
Never quite climb.
The world is dark sometimes,
And not all trees survive.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
“delete history”
I think it’s pretty gay for a bunch of sweaty queers
To be sharing spit w/ each other
In a ******* closet
I think my ***** smells like macaroni
I used to jack off to animals beign tortured
I used to tell my mom
Im not pretty
Im not pretty
throw rocks at your garage
"BAAAMMM"
It’s hard to come up with 4 things at once,
I want to play violin in a bathtub at 4 AM
Because 4am’s cool
And it’s not really night or morning
It’s just stinky
Im just a kid with their stinky feet on a splintered stool
Watching suite life of zack and cody
In a pair of boxers they/i haven’t changed for like 3 days
I have a bic pen bumper sticker tattoo on my ***
You made me **** your **** and feed your bunny
And you made me hate white boys
I generalize
I forget to feed my tortoise sometimes
I don’t forget to feed myself
Im not cool and skinny and white
Im fat and
I never forget to feed myself
I eat the stuff on my body
Im my own **** tree I beare my own fruits I think you
Should get used to how GROSS I am
I got heartburn
In all the wrong places
I got an ache below the waist
and a cold sore on my heart
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 4:54 PM UTC
This is especially written for you.
Out there.
For the colored girls.
The girls that are insecure with their lovely brown tint
in between the deep chocolate and lemon yellows.
you'll never hear the term red or yellow bone
You don't know what color your bones possess
The girls whose hair used to naturally curl but couldn't hold the press and curl long enough to feel like its meant for you to look like that all the time. So you agreed when your mama offered to relax your hair so you could relax too. That way even if you couldn't be as light as the mixed girls and the red bones, at least your hair could be as laid as theirs…
I'm writing this to the girls that weren't blessed with the hips nor *** black women are forever praised for. Questioning why our figures aren't as exotic as society tries to generalize. We aren't fit to be the token when we lack the true characteristics that are associated with our ancestors, right? I'm writing this for the tokens that have lost themselves in the crowds they've tried to fit into. Don't lose yourself forgetting to be you.
I'm writing this for every colored girl that questioned if she was beautiful, as I used to do. Always assuming everything bad that happened was because you simply weren't light enough for good things to happen to you. No light girl, white girl priviledge. I'm writing this to resurrect all the ill feelings i've ever thought about my blackness before I realized it was okay to be so, in hopes that maybe I can ease a colored girl's mind when she feels like she's too black for the world.
This is for her.
The beautiful colored girl.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 10:13 PM UTC
I now know why I get invested in people.
People are interesting. Interesting in the ways they talk, the ways they step, the ways they carry their shoulders as others pass by. People are quirky. Quirky... but not explainable. We all grow up in the same ways, but with our own little twists that seem to twist us too. People are ordinary... but so very unique. You can generalize all you want, but you'll never be able to describe two people in the same way. Not accurately, at least.
I now know why I get invested in people.
Everything is my own little case study. In my brain that works like a psychologist and makes sense out of the abstract and the patterns of people... everyone is my own little case study. I don't take down data. I don't try to fix people. I don't choose who becomes a case study... because everyone does, and that's just the way my mind wraps itself around the world.
I want to understand people.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
Love isn't real.
Love doesn't exist.
Love is only in books and movies.
Love isn't in this earth.
There's so many ways to say it.
That love isn't real.
That love crushes everybody eventually.
That love isn't happiness.
That love is happiness.
That love does exist.
But it's only for some people that love does exist.
We cannot generalize.
Just because we are broken.
It's just not for some people.
And it just is for other people.
But in some worlds.
In my world.
Love destroys.
Love crushes souls and breaks bones.
Love
kills.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:13 PM UTC
I'm so tired of the things that I fear,
And so tired of the things that I "hear"
I've never seen the end so clear,
I'm getting tired.
I used to use my mind.
I used to wonder "why".
You generalize and tell me lies
That's not the way it ought to be.
Do you really want to deal with me?
So mad.
So mean.
And the pain, as always, remains unseen...
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 7:22 PM UTC
How do I start...?
This is hard for me...
I probably will only generalize from fear of being ostracized,....
Actually that's a ****** lie too...
not even sure wut I want to say,
Sometimes wut I really wanna say gets polluted by being convoluted cuz it's secondary and secluded
by trying to sound poetic, or smart
then the rest just gets... Included....
I'm not even sure of myself...
My ability....
My limits...
I might even say i find security in insecurity,
Jailed without bail by my emotions and I can't find assurity
Assuring me
a stay on the green mile where I sit, green with envy...
Envious of even ppl I love...
Almost hoping they fail so I'm not alone.....
how truly sick is that?
How could u ever call urself a decent person after thinking that????
And after i drown and drench this depression in drinks
Then dry it off with drugs...
It only gets moist again by the inevitable stream of tears
And u can only let urself down so many ****** times before u can't lie to urself anymore to feel like
..u haven't let everyone else down
And my friends and family can only say ..."I love u"so many times b4 they realize that I don't believe it....
Cuz how can they love me when I don't???
And I'm way past a cry for help
So it's not sympathy,
I don't need it
I have been blessed until now with the most beautiful things life has...
And maybe losing those things has fukked me up....
how do I start....
Ha...
how do I finish....
When I haven't even said anything worth reading....
I use to think I was a writer...
Now I question if I can even do that anymore...
I feel hopelessly dead inside,
and I love my son,
but I can't help feeling trapped, in a sea of failure,
I can't help hating my weak will,
My bad habits,
My lack of motivation
My physical appearance,
My physical appearance
My laziness
And who I've become, when who I was.....
Was so much better.....
My night terrors haunt me...
I miss ppl I shouldn't
I'm jealous of ppl I shouldn't be...
I idolize my godmother for her strength to commit suicide:...
I am everything I use to hate in
others....
I could go on forever
but I'm sick of hearing myself think in silence
Even the voices in my head annoys the **** out of me, and make me sick til I tell myself to shut up....
How do I end this...
.... From judgement of a talented literary point of view...
I can't end it....
Cause...
I never really started....
Cuz when it is your monkey,
And it is your circus...
It's depressskng feeling worthless
When even a clowns have a purpose
.....which is more than me
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 2:00 AM UTC
beautiful people out there and time so few
to acknowledge each and every one of them
and tomorrow comes so urgently
without pause relentlessly
I wish to write each and every one of them
and tell them what beauty they bring
to me and how I feel
but
I have to generalize I guess
and suspect if I write this
they who are deserving
will know
they glow
a little more
than they do
now
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 11:52 PM UTC
So often we see this colorful world in black and white; not out of generalization, but because we are curious of what’s beneath.
Beneath the gradients are newfound knowledge, for knowledge is comfort;
but beneath the blankets of recollection is a restless soul tugging away at the sun;
beneath ourselves lay vessels of blood connecting a sea of conscience;
beneath the tides an equal and opposite wave, pulsing through the veins of dimensions and forces beyond our grasp,
a testimony of the indescribable unknown.
Through curiosity we become overwhelmed, and do not wish to know more than what we can see.
So yes we generalize.
Funny how duality works.
Aug 2, 2019
Aug 2, 2019 at 1:04 PM UTC
Languish in Anguish
New age placing mental issues on a grand stage, Anxiety levels rise as if there is a hidden prize
Not to downplay those truly astray, arm chair doctoring without proctoring is an open diagnosis
No matter what we are taken to task, when hearing answers for questions we never ask unforeseen mysteries arise
Sunshine dull, life in a lull, like a boat facing storms with a paper hull, misguided information leads to neurosis
Imagined stress now duress, self-inflicted perjury, childhood time out takes a new route, too much for a biased mind to analyze
Do we have the might to resist this minor parasite? simple anguish easy to extinguish,new weight to great when lives are out of focus
No disgrace in finding one's own pace, caught in a flurry brings unknown worry, finding unchecked wisdom can often paralyze
Introspection can show our soul for closer inspection, mind's eye left open to contemplate, change not always a bad prognosis
No one at fault as if new labels being drawn from a mystical vault, real or imagined concerns often too much if we generalize
Tainted memories can often hemorrhage left alone become extra baggage, without guidance we often become our toughest opponents
Life doesn't always need deeper reason, inner truth not always personal treason, simple songs are still fine to harmonize
Current state not always something to contemplate, many levels of a mental issue real or imagined should not leave us to languish in anguish, happiness not forever hopeless
R.C
Dec 11, 2020
Dec 11, 2020 at 8:25 AM UTC
"throw 'em in boxes; they
deserve nothing more than
that" Order 1: keep up with
He who tells me what to do.
we're here to serve, nothing
more for the condition, it's a
cycle and it's painful, but all
honest living comes from this.
"'generalize, condemn, utilize'
this is our only motto. laws stand
for all, not one, the individual is
inferior." Order 2: drink more
beer and learn not to relax. He
might be watching but i've grown
not to care. "no grey area, it's universal, believe me, i'm the UNIVERSALTRUTHFORALL" Order 3: don't operate under His code, mental slavery prone, reboot and reprogram, existkilldestroywhitebloodcellsreplacerepair(check) clean, clear.
Individual?
destruction imminent, hints of smoke
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
If one has dark skin and is light on the inside
they might be referred to as a coconut.
This is but one example
of how, we as humans,
categorize and generalize
our fellow man…
What is it when you are born white,
raised by SoCal junked-out hippies
(not the flower crowd)
who told everyone during your formative years
if we never discuss politics
or religion
we can be friends……
I was left with my maternal grandparents on some weekends
by these heathens
who happened to be devout
Protestants.
I sat very quietly,
hands folded in my lap
and listened to stories from the bible
and thought to myself
and the tender age of five
“Why doesn’t this god love me?”
“What did I do to Jesus to be forsaken?”
“I am just a child!”
anger followed………
Today, I find myself drawn to a dream
a paternal grandfather
born on a New Mexico reservation
that is completely abandoned
by any living relation,
leaving me to desire connection
to the greatest family mystery
for the Temple clan…….
No amount of reading text
or researching tribal life
can ever gift me
a relationship with an elder,
nothing I can do
will ever make me a part of that culture
and with this complexion,
I may not even be accepted
if I were to try and ask questions……..
this is me, building my own spirituality
with broken pieces
of family history –
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
When I die I do not want people to remember me as kind or caring or nice. I want people to remember me as I was, I want them to say, "that clutz tripped over everything and spilled something at least twice a day." I want people to say, "we would laugh till our stomachs hurt and our eyes were filled with tears." I want people to know me, and not just generalize who I was. I want people to remember me in a way that they can say, "She impacted my life." I don't want anything fancy, no posthumous festations, but I do want people to celebrate my life by remembering me for who I was and not who they wanted me to be.
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
There is a
Chuck Taylor black energy connecting
Every one of my couch’s teens
But please don’t generalize a single spirit
And especially stay away from adjectives like
“angsty” and “misunderstood”
Never accuse them of such a cliché travesty
At such an age spotlighted syndrome stage
The Sufjan Stevens song she brings in has the same yearning
That another’s canon snaps with trapped black and whites
That same shadow tangos with the forced-into-therapy-tween’s
faint scalloped smile lines
of times before, when she had not been hunting for her own identity
When she could spin around the willow
And not worry about her eyelet ******* peeking through
Then the cloud covered eighteen year old daisy
Drags amber strands across forehead while she murmers
Blame that oozes from her juvenile jawline, mirroring
The prior sweetheart that stormed out of my office at 3:00pm
Tawny strands across her wrist
And how could I ever forget the last string of fiber
Fierce and cross armed
The last knot to the cat’s cradle of adolescent midnight string
“I know I will conquer my genetic hand”
She declares
Bubblegum harbored in fleshy cheek
Whiskers and all.
I hold sacred in my bones
The appendage I am in all of this
wide eyed need
And I let the walls absorb their sighs
Until, in awe I witness
the beauty in vulnerability
Again
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 2:43 AM UTC