"humbleness" poems
No such thing as friends..blood brothers stick close..whether truth or fable Cain killed Able..it happened on a farm..niggas jealous over fruits for table..reverse the grave to a cradle..yet the ****** gave birth in a stable..don't watch nothing like cable..life is sweet like a girl sippin syrup maple..gum beating ****** in the street with beef never signed a label..maybe one day there'll be peace God willing as He is able..else we see defeat at the feet of babel..learn to connect with each other..y yall tink we gat navel...its a link..get online and get over yourself..humility servitude and humbleness..yet only amongst brothers can i feel this bliss..sticking with blood rejecting the Judas kiss..cause a ***** been cross ever since ever since a ***** been criss..if u know what im talking bout u be like this.... uhh huh uhh huh
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 7:16 AM UTC
. . . I have been seeking a new kingdom to call home and your heart, like a castle hides behind great walls,
where both the strong and weak share embarassing flaws.
Unlike just any castle, yours is not on top of a great hill,
nor in the midist of a forest beyond where the waters chill,
its right infront of everyones face who decides to pay attention,
funny that many by pass it because they never seek it, but are ever seeking attention.
Unlike in fairytales, its guarded by pride, humbleness, care and a huge ego,
it rages against anyone who tries to love and care for it, but when it loves back, it never lets go.
Like any castle out there, forcing yourself in will hurt both you and those in it,
the hours you'll take destroying can not be compared to the years you'll take rebuilding it.
So I made up my mind to stand at the gates of these great walls, perfectly built brick for brick,
to proclaim my honour and loyalty for you,to make a promise and stick to it,
because I would rather help you guard it, than play pirate to break down your walls.
So Knight me your majesty, as I report for duty to guard and protect everything that lays behind your great walls. . .
. . . let me make it my new home. . .
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
Wake Up Wretched World,
I assert my Indigenous heritage
I self identify
With the ancestors of my continent
Identity afraid to articulate
Culture, unknowingly belonging to me
Cycle of shame now shattered
Product of love, hatred, lust, and desire
europeans plundering my mother Latin America
In chaos and violence, my skin's pigment
Has been engineered through the mestizaje
Of my Indigenous forefathers
How could I not forget my lineage
When the historical legacy of modernization
Has been to massacre the consciousness
Of where my people really come from
Erasing indigenous pride
Making Paisano and Indio
Synonymous with poverty and alienation
Insulting the humbleness
State of hunger you've left us in
Original lineage within me disturbed
So you push me to ambiguity and embarrassment
Not white, not indigenous?
Pure indigenous brothers and sisters silenced
Not an exploitable consumerist market, not in your campaigns
Not benefactors of your philanthropic development tactics
Bodies too costly to abuse, no reason to bring them
Into the neoliberal multinational corporate circuit
Constantly driving them off productive land
Because they choose to assert their identity
Live in collective communes, not owing you nothing
Waiting for them to make barren lands productive
So you can take those lands too
Not capturing an obscure history, these are not colonial times
This is the legacy of the european presence entering mother Latin America
21st century still defiling Indigenous cultures to civilize and modernize
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
People whom take pictures called "selfies"
are too easily dismayed.
A person who has true humility
wants not their image displayed.
Someone who has to put themselves
out into the world,
across the screaming gulf of the internet
really makes me want to hurl.
A true person with humility,
humbleness and jest.
Let's someone to capture their image
unprepared, and not at rest.
A true person's form
comes not from a mirror pic
but from friends and their smiles
preferably not when they're shick.
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
No justice nor equality
How to live without envy?
No money nor security
How to live without greed?
No motives nor prize
How to live without sloth?
No accessibility nor satisfaction
How to live without lust?
No pleasure nor satisfaction
How to live without gluttony?
No logic nor sense
How to live without wrath?
No compassion nor humbleness
How to live without pride?
Words of Harfouchism
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
A Rock there is whose homely front
The passing traveller slights;
Yet there the glow-worms hang their lamps,
Like stars, at various heights;
And one coy Primrose to that Rock
The vernal breeze invites.
What hideous warfare hath been waged,
What kingdoms overthrown,
Since first I spied that Primrose-tuft
And marked it for my own;
A lasting link in Nature’s chain
From highest heaven let down!
The flowers, still faithful to the stems,
Their fellowship renew;
The stems are faithful to the root,
That worketh out of view;
And to the rock the root adheres
In every fibre true.
Close clings to earth the living rock,
Though threatening still to fall:
The earth is constant to her sphere;
And God upholds them all:
So blooms this lonely Plant, nor dreads
Her annual funeral.
* * * * * *
Here closed the meditative strain;
But air breathed soft that day,
The hoary mountain-heights were cheered,
The sunny vale looked gay;
And to the Primrose of the Rock
I gave this after-lay.
I sang-Let myriads of bright flowers,
Like Thee, in field and grove
Revive unenvied;—mightier far,
Than tremblings that reprove
Our vernal tendencies to hope,
Is God’s redeeming love;
That love which changed-for wan disease,
For sorrow that had bent
O’er hopeless dust, for withered age—
Their moral element,
And turned the thistles of a curse
To types beneficent.
Sin-blighted though we are, we too,
The reasoning Sons of Men,
From one oblivious winter called
Shall rise, and breathe again;
And in eternal summer lose
Our threescore years and ten.
To humbleness of heart descends
This prescience from on high,
The faith that elevates the just,
Before and when they die;
And makes each soul a separate heaven
A court for Deity.
5.4k
My lady carries love within her eyes;
All that she looks on is made pleasanter;
Upon her path men turn to gaze at her;
He whom she greeteth feels his heart to rise,
And droops is troubled visage, full of sighs,
And of his evil heart is then aware:
Hates loves, and pride becomes his worshipper.
O women, help to praise her in somewise.
Humbleness, and the hope that hopeth well,
By speech of hers into the mind are brought,
And who beholds is blessed oftenwhiles.
The look she hath when she a little smiles
Cannot be said, nor holden in the thought;
'Tis such a new and gracious miracle.
4.9k
Today is world, it is so corrupted.
But he future is decide on our children's.
Teach them humbleness,
And their future will be better,
Than our sadness times..
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 12:38 AM UTC
Budding Rose
building pressure,
pursed and ready,
meeting the threshold
with preparatory
anticipation;
quivering.
Blooming Rose
opening with elegance,
breaking from tight enclosure.
a fragrant, companionate aroma,
inviting, an unfoldment,
spreads of flourish;
exquisite grace.
Dying Rose
with humbleness
in bowing stem.
letting go,
petal by petal.
richer reds,
darkening,
decease.
Cyclic Rose
coming, breaking
open and shedding;
a transitory
ephemeral beauty.
teaching the natural
art of being;
in bud
b l o o m
& death.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
My creativity has created this creation.
The outcome of my creation reflects only to the Creator.
The inner Narrator narrates a repetitive monologue.
Believe me, I've seen the films, and I've read that ******* blog.
Long logging of nights.
Internal.
External.
Fights.
Anger lasts.
I employed that past to take power away from fear.
Aware now of being here.
Consciousness.
Humbleness.
This doesn't come from admission.
Remission of a previous mission.
My dispositions constriction from speaking up.
**** that.
That cup.
That rig.
Spoon.
***
Drug.
Love is what I need.
Love is what I give.
Creating only a creation to love to live.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC
Patience is key
So gentle so kind
Takes over emotions
Takes over time
A good woman is hard to find
Blinded by the obvious signs
Prayed to the most high today
Please send that one into my life
After years to come, triumphs n pain
I knew my prayers were heard
That day I laid eyes on u
Palms sweaty
Clammy n cold
Falling over nothing in the floor
That star that twinkle in your eyes
I’ve never seen
Gazing at anyone
Patience broken
Taring into humbleness
Things said undone n not true
Patience asking for another chance?
Me too
Start from the bottom
Only way from here is up
Patience to the bad
Impatience from hurt
Clouds rolls over the good
Still fighting til that day come
Patience is kind
And a lesson to learn
Progression is success
My backbone you are
No need to explain
Pun intended
Patience, humble, n new
Grace of serenity
I’m blessed with a friend
Levels beyond understanding
A forever better half of me
Patience is key
But progression is the journey
That will lead me to you
My angel and world
Tied all into one
Patience mold me heavenly
Cause i know mama
You’re my one
Patience of a GOOD WOMAN
Jan 18, 2019
Jan 18, 2019 at 2:54 PM UTC
Living on borrowed time
Decision at drop of a hat
Down an empty vandalized street, I walk
through the horror of silence
and silence of serenity
perdurable pathway of life
The ghastly sights
and the rustling gates
scattered people with unknown tastes
emptiness in their eyes, anger in their words
void is profound
down the perdurable pathway of life
Bifurcated roads upfront
my perception, one to hell and one to heaven
the other end of roads, a mystery
I stood there comprehending, while
my mind harks back to before I came
down the perdurable pathway of life
Endurance of a toiler
Stoicism, a rare trait, out of gratitude to employer
pain and suffering he undergoes for common good
loyalty to his master, inspire of hardships
sincerity and humbleness of the bloke
will inspire me, down the perdurable pathway of life
Deprived of education
desolated on streets laboring
disparate from parental love, subject to father's fury
fractious relations but still ignores himself, for family and domicile
The kid's love and determination, will inspire me
down the perdurable pathway of life
Spurn love took her down
Her heart wrenched and pushed her beyond limits
killed herself, leaving her parents to sore reality
not a wise choice, but courageous
I ponder upon courage, rather than cowardly suicide
Death is not an option down the perdurable pathway of life
Happy faces around taunt me to do simplest
Reality speaks otherwise
Reckoning on past, the pathway is wrought
conscious and hard choices right ahead
The bifurcated roads to heaven and hell?
I've seen it all, down the perdurable pathway of life
Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 4:52 AM UTC
Its not your face that
pulls me towards you
Although you're the prettiest thing i have every seen
Its not your voice that makes me love you
Although no tunes can compare it
Its not your charm that makes me think about you all day
Although you can conquer anyone
With just a smile
It's youre humbleness for every being
Your kindness
Even for those you don't know
That makes you beautiful
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 7:46 AM UTC
A valiant woodsman of God’s green earth,
An ever gentle soul,
Treads nobly through the forest’s edge,
To conquer hill and knoll.
Morning chill, punctuates warm breathe,
Condensing on cold steel,
A rising sun greets a friend of old,
With beckoning appeal.
The singing birds, call quick to arms,
Warning to those that hear,
The woodsman’s made his presence known,
To this they must adhere.
The ageless warrior nestles down,
A clearing by a brook,
From iron sights, he takes a bead,
A short but lasting look.
Ten points in all, the target grunts,
And directs a gazing eye,
A trigger’s squeezed a slight indent,
The woodsman breathes a sigh.
A crack of thunder, a flash of light,
The beast is crashing down,
The woodsman offers praise to God,
The forest makes no sound.
A resounding victory born this day,
Upon much hallowed earth,
And from majestic creature lost,
Does spawn a sacred birth.
The woodsman leaves, more quiet than came,
In humbleness and awe,
To tell a tale of conquest sought,
To share of what he saw.
Oct 22, 2010
Oct 22, 2010 at 11:20 PM UTC
Yes, I see you.
You like to make your presence known.
It’s in the flashy, the gaudy and the uncomfortably fake humbleness that you project.
The wealth and championed successes you stuff into your smile and plaster across your face.
Yes, I see you,
You exude materialism with each closing swagger .
Insatiable appetite for your own procurement.--Your “driven”
You’ve everything one might acquire.
Yes, I see you,
I’ve known you in many.
As you walk by you politely nod and look away.
And inside my stomach swells until a small smile cracks across my face.
The irony.
You measure your wealth in commodities
and assume I’m envious of your riches!!
Yes, I see you and am moved…
You know nothing of wealth.
Dec 19, 2009
Dec 19, 2009 at 9:30 AM UTC
In the eyes of the girl who sat laughing in the corner of the room,
not worrying what the world thought about her,
captivating the world with her sincere personality,
unfolding her humbleness,
letting her guard down for all she could offer,
building no walls of defense..
letting the world watch her and clench their lustful desires on her ,
mesmerized by her inner beauty,
you quench for more of her delicateness,
sparing no innocence for her cries,
violently abusing her fragile soul,
Now what's left of her is an endless vulnerability to fear and hatred,
Traumatic nightmares, permanent scars,
The worst part is you live everyday of your life with no slight regret,
not a glimpse of guilt,
Now she's left only with bits of herself, drying her tears every night as she pick up her leftover faith she has to painfully move on in this cruel world, without a single justice of her suffering...
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 3:06 PM UTC
It's a big mistake
That we do ..
We always remind himself
Every thing has a replacement
In whole life ,we heartily learn this lesson...
"Lesson of replacement "
Any person ,any desire ,any thing have a replacement in itself
If you failed to get a some precise thing
Replace it ,into one more thing
If you failed to fulfilled any desire
Replace it ,into one more desire
If you can't achieve any goal
Replace it into one more goal
But
I must say
It can be a good timely formula
To betray himself
In the recycle of replacement ...
There is no replacement of every thing
Love ,respect kindness ,
sensitivity, care ,attention,
humbleness , sentiments...
Yes
Our emotions don't have any replacement .
Sep 22, 2019
Sep 22, 2019 at 6:32 AM UTC
Take my life,
Take my everything.
Strip me of my rights.
But give me one thing.
Give me a paradise!
A paradise of brotherhood,
and sisterhood.
A paradise where violence does not exist,
a paradise where nobody commits a crime,
a paradise where people are not afraid to openly confess their sins.
Give me a hope.
A hope that at the end of all these troubles,
there will be peace, love, and humbleness.
Where Greed is no more.
Where men do not need guns.
Give me a city.
Give me a city,
where doors and locks are no more.
Open seats at dinner tables for brothers to join.
A quiet city,
where children run in happiness,
where a new generation lives happily,
where the old generation smiles.
A beautiful city,
where evil is no more,
Give Me Paradise.
Land of abundance.
Land of peace.
Land of brotherly and sisterly love.
Give me a land,
a land where people different by culture,
different by background,
different by skin,
different by family,
can unite as one.
Give me a land where there is no sin.
Give Me Paradise!
Jan 6, 2012
Jan 6, 2012 at 9:31 PM UTC
It is, what it was?
Filled with memories.
Filled with lots of love.
Filled with many friends.
Filled with many kins.
Yes, the days of my youth
Standing, beside the grave.
I could only reflect back about you.
The things you taught me.
The way you guided me.
During, the days of my youth.
When people look at me?
They mainly mention you.
Cause in me, they see you.
In away I represent you.
When glancing at photographs.
I cry amongst the many smiles.
To think.
Yes, to think I once was that little child.
During, the days of my youth.
Whether playing hide-and-go-seek.
Or Simon's says.
Or one, two, three red light.
Or simply hanging out with my friends.
The days of my youth was fantastic.
I'm happy.
I'm proud.
The days of my youth as a child.
Was more than I could wish for.
Especially, when it came to Christmas.
Things of wealth that's important to some.
Can't replace the humbleness of your love.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 10:22 AM UTC
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder..
That's only skin deep though,
what's a common rock to someone,
is another's treasure.
Beauty is the light that shines when you talk, when you walk,
when you do what you love.
Beauty is the way you express yourself,
beauty is loving and accepting yourself
for who you are
and making the best version out of yourself.
Beauty is self love,
self care,
self discipline,
beauty is self respect,
self worth,
self improvement,
beauty is good manners and behavior,
beauty is your hungry mind,
your loving energy,
beauty is the way you view the world,
beauty is knowing when you're wrong
and knowing when you're right,
beauty is honesty,
beauty is humbleness,
beauty is authenticity.
Beauty isn't just one certain type,
beauty is the diversity in mankind.
Beauty is so much more than
just a canvas to change colors and fabric on. Beauty is meaningless if it's just an empty shell. A shell found on the beach is beautiful;
because it holds something precious inside.
Aug 20, 2021
Aug 20, 2021 at 11:30 PM UTC
Look upon the shanty town of plenty town
where 'those'
people live and those who have will
seldom give,
In shanty town we barely survive on
humbleness and outright lies.
Look,
now comes the infantry,
marching three by three.
What is it that they see ?
but more and more,
they've seen it all a
thousand times before,
poverty in every doorway.
No gay hussars ,these infantry,
they come not to set 'those' people free
but to shoot them down.
The don in his board and gown may
be bright and know a deal
but this is the place where his
hypothesis is real and lives are at stake.
In Oxford where they take a break from studies
which the privileged make their own,then
go home and make some English tea,
I guess that's being free, for a fee, but
we don't want no chi
We
Just want a chance to fly as high as others ,who
in shanty town would want to do the same?
From Belize or from Tobruk,Brighton,Glasgow
we don't give a flying... tuck your
wings in guys and watch the bullets fly,
watch your dreams die
hear your kids cry
nothing's changed except
the rules.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 11:38 AM UTC
Everything, the Fruit of the Spirit is.
You are.
I know it.
Seen you show it.
Temperance, you have it built in.
Meekness, is the humbleness of your heart.
Faith, you adapted to it to a tee.
The kingdom of Christ means a lot.
Everything, the Fruit of the Spirit is.
You are.
Your goodness.
Your goodness comes from your caring soul.
You placed it, as everyone goal.
Your gentleness, shows in your kindness.
And when longsuffering comes to you.
You shows your patience in dealing with it.
I just know.
You are everything the Fruit of the Spirit is.
Ask to describe joy?
I point to you.
Even when simple words would do.
Quiet peace, is your ability to avoid conflicts.
Or let others get you caught up.
And since you love me unconditionally.
I know, you are love.
I see it in your eyes.
And feel it in your love.
Nine qualities that laws can't govern.
But others can apply.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 10:11 AM UTC
does everyone
know you
are a swine?
she sweetly asked.
no i oinked at her
keep my secret safe
my wings
confuse her
as
i flew
away
like a weightless
poem
with a simple ring
of humbleness
secured
on the snout of my nose.
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 1:51 PM UTC
It's propped against the wall,
anxiously awaiting to be played
sometimes it takes week
but often just a day
When she takes it in her hands
and begins to tune it up
it wakes up from its sleep
feeling the comfort of her touch
As she starts to strum along
the flowing melody is found
her voice begins to rise
my heart smiles at the sound
Eavesdropping just to hear her
because she doesn't understand
how I'm overwhelmed with joy
and that I'm her biggest fan
It's not the way she plays
or how beautiful she sings
it's the humbleness she shows
and the serenity it brings
To have that kind of passion
without needing to be praised
my daughter's gift sent from above
gratefully received in many ways
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 9:16 AM UTC