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"humiliated" poems
The photos were leaked today They were of a **** woman with brown skin Love making as she stared straight into the lenses I was showed by a man who did not know how to react once I had been shown My reaction was not shock I merely stated "That's baad" I did not know how to react to the staunch cyber-bully who was sure he was doing himself a justice by being so open about his anger at the naked, brown, humiliated, naked, shamed, beautiful I am shamed by his shaming I am naked by his ********** I am beautiful by myself sometimes Sometimes I take the tape off my camera and position it near my bloom I am not alone in this activity and yet I feel alone in an intimate situation, feel less alone, in a private situation. Sometimes I work it so that every part of my dark lips are shadowed and my fingers seem to work for a living rather than play My body is not a string It is a temple of dark things It is a ossuary filled with the dust of former lives It is not to be dangled for cats for play It has no puppet hands Or puppet face It smiles because it sees you smile And she frowns when she sees you laugh It is alive The misfortune you hope her body will bring her is shame I hope it will bring other people enlightenment The fault is not in her The fault is in the malicious, villainous, caricature of man who is hallow and made of maddening bells Every time you disturb him he rings in announcement "This lady I had once an intimate relationship and she abused me. Here is her punishment." We are all cavernous tunnels with lights to shoot out of the pins and needles sensational feelings we do not desire this but we must desire to be freed from being owned by this We all think we're exempted from shame until we are ashamed There are no exemptions, only more bells They ring, until background noise renders them obsolete to us
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Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 10:43 AM UTC
Beautiful, brown, naked, woman
The photos were leaked today They were of a **** woman with brown skin Love making as she stared straight into the lenses I was showed by a man who did not know how to react once I had been shown My reaction was not shock I merely stated "That's baad" I did not know how to react to the staunch cyber-bully who was sure he was doing himself a justice by being so open about his anger at the naked, brown, humiliated, naked, shamed, beautiful I am shamed by his shaming I am naked by his ********** I am beautiful by myself sometimes Sometimes I take the tape off my camera and position it near my bloom I am not alone in this activity and yet I feel alone in an intimate situation, feel less alone, in a private situation. Sometimes I work it so that every part of my dark lips are shadowed and my fingers seem to work for a living rather than play My body is not a string It is a temple of dark things It is a ossuary filled with the dust of former lives It is not to be dangled for cats for play It has no puppet hands Or puppet face It smiles because it sees you smile And she frowns when she sees you laugh It is alive The misfortune you hope her body will bring her is shame I hope it will bring other people enlightenment The fault is not in her The fault is in the malicious, villainous, caricature of man who is hallow and made of maddening bells Every time you disturb him he rings in announcement "This lady I had once an intimate relationship and she abused me. Here is her punishment." We are all cavernous tunnels with lights to shoot out of the pins and needles sensational feelings we do not desire this but we must desire to be freed from being owned by this We all think we're exempted from shame until we are ashamed There are no exemptions, only more bells They ring, until background noise renders them obsolete to us
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31
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
0
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
Cruel Inhumane Autocracies
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
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55
They said Don’t wear leggings Or a shirt that shows your cleavage Because you need to be covered up You’re a distraction They said Don’t use your period as an excuse For male teachers to let you go to the bathroom Because you’re not fooling anybody They said Don’t shave your head Boys can You can’t and don’t And won’t because we’ll suspend you They said Watch the length of your skirt The colour of your hair The shoes and makeup The piercings And they call that fair They said Come to us if something is wrong if you’re feeling bullied if you feel unsafe I guess they don’t remember asking my friend and I if we heard of anyone in our year with suicidal tendencies They asked us because We were the sensible ones The bright ones We couldn't have been depressed. I guess they didn’t see my panic and my hand squeezing my wrist. Because school Is not a place Where you can express who you are School is not the place where you feel safe It's a battle ground on the outside of your comfort zone. School isn’t about education Its a challenge, competition Its a measurement of your capabilities But what if you don't excel? You’re called out for not being good enough You're humiliated. Mocked. You get looked down on Judged Embarrassed And you don’t get your Degree As if a degree explains who you are What you’ve been through How much you’re worth As if a degree Measures the capacity Of your heart And your knowledge And a teacher can share your grade Make a joke and smirk Cause they think you’re not worth it And they can laugh and yell and call your parents Who don’t think you’re any better. Because year after year they’ve been led to believe that you’re easily distracted that you don’t do what you’re told that you’re rebellious Because even if you showed respect to the hypocrisy That you can't help but notice, They still won’t understand that you're just fighting for what you believe is right, for mutual respect. Because that’s not what you were thought. You were thought to raise your hand when you want to speak. And even if you made a valid point You would still get lectured on putting your hand up when you want to speak. Discipline put first. And that is my definition of school
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May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 4:45 PM UTC
School
They said Don’t wear leggings Or a shirt that shows your cleavage Because you need to be covered up You’re a distraction They said Don’t use your period as an excuse For male teachers to let you go to the bathroom Because you’re not fooling anybody They said Don’t shave your head Boys can You can’t and don’t And won’t because we’ll suspend you They said Watch the length of your skirt The colour of your hair The shoes and makeup The piercings And they call that fair They said Come to us if something is wrong if you’re feeling bullied if you feel unsafe I guess they don’t remember asking my friend and I if we heard of anyone in our year with suicidal tendencies They asked us because We were the sensible ones The bright ones We couldn't have been depressed. I guess they didn’t see my panic and my hand squeezing my wrist. Because school Is not a place Where you can express who you are School is not the place where you feel safe It's a battle ground on the outside of your comfort zone. School isn’t about education Its a challenge, competition Its a measurement of your capabilities But what if you don't excel? You’re called out for not being good enough You're humiliated. Mocked. You get looked down on Judged Embarrassed And you don’t get your Degree As if a degree explains who you are What you’ve been through How much you’re worth As if a degree Measures the capacity Of your heart And your knowledge And a teacher can share your grade Make a joke and smirk Cause they think you’re not worth it And they can laugh and yell and call your parents Who don’t think you’re any better. Because year after year they’ve been led to believe that you’re easily distracted that you don’t do what you’re told that you’re rebellious Because even if you showed respect to the hypocrisy That you can't help but notice, They still won’t understand that you're just fighting for what you believe is right, for mutual respect. Because that’s not what you were thought. You were thought to raise your hand when you want to speak. And even if you made a valid point You would still get lectured on putting your hand up when you want to speak. Discipline put first. And that is my definition of school
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74
Can’t fall asleep Awake exhausted with only a few hours of sleep Mind clouded with thoughts of death Go down stairs mom gets upset you should have left by now Put on my makeup , maybe it can hide my insecurities Swallow the pill that suppresses my personality Go to school to feel humiliated Feel the glares as they stare Late again ? don’t you have any friends? So try to pretend I don’t eat yet I still taste defeat I have a billion thoughts but can’t find the words to speak No one can help me if I’m trapped in my own thoughts
0
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC
Adhd Depression
Dear Lesley, I'm sorry to have to do this through a letter, but last time your crying just humiliated the other couples in your group session. Although, this might save embarrassment, and make me look better, now that we are both sleeping with other people. (If you can call conjugal visits to your ex-husband people.) This letter may well be the last memory you will have of me, if your social worker lets you keep it as a memento anyway. I am leaving, and I won't be looking back either. I am sure you won't be surprised or terribly upset. It is completely your fault, no doubt about it! Mainly, it is your long history with lying problems, even more than your alcoholism, that keeps me from being even remotely interested in continuing this relationship with you. (I told you I forgave you for sleeping with your boss, but I guess I never really did.) You would be so much better off finding someone that can accept the emotional baggage that you carry around, the ones with the orange tags. Maybe your analyst can explain that to you better than I can. I must say, I will miss some of the exciting times we had together. Like when you got so drunk and flirted with my father at our family Christmas dinner. My mom has still not gotten the red wine stain out of the tablecloth where you puked on it. I'm glad this is finally done and we can go our separate ways. I think you will find someone else with whom to have an unhealthy relationship based on physical attraction and a passion for strip-club bars. Hopefully, this will happen incredibly far away. Good riddance, and Happy New Year. PS Maybe you should just go back to being a lesbian. PPS I have no idea where you parked your car.
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Jan 12, 2012
Jan 12, 2012 at 2:23 PM UTC
a letter to a friend wishing her a Happy New Year
Dear Lesley, I'm sorry to have to do this through a letter, but last time your crying just humiliated the other couples in your group session. Although, this might save embarrassment, and make me look better, now that we are both sleeping with other people. (If you can call conjugal visits to your ex-husband people.) This letter may well be the last memory you will have of me, if your social worker lets you keep it as a memento anyway. I am leaving, and I won't be looking back either. I am sure you won't be surprised or terribly upset. It is completely your fault, no doubt about it! Mainly, it is your long history with lying problems, even more than your alcoholism, that keeps me from being even remotely interested in continuing this relationship with you. (I told you I forgave you for sleeping with your boss, but I guess I never really did.) You would be so much better off finding someone that can accept the emotional baggage that you carry around, the ones with the orange tags. Maybe your analyst can explain that to you better than I can. I must say, I will miss some of the exciting times we had together. Like when you got so drunk and flirted with my father at our family Christmas dinner. My mom has still not gotten the red wine stain out of the tablecloth where you puked on it. I'm glad this is finally done and we can go our separate ways. I think you will find someone else with whom to have an unhealthy relationship based on physical attraction and a passion for strip-club bars. Hopefully, this will happen incredibly far away. Good riddance, and Happy New Year. PS Maybe you should just go back to being a lesbian. PPS I have no idea where you parked your car.
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37
* I am talking of fearlessness "Fearlessness..." The same fearlessness Shown by Christ on the cross The same fearlessness Shown by Gandhi For his non-violence The same fearlessness When Mansoor said "I am YOU" Was lynched & cut piece by piece The same fearlessness Of Meera who sang for Krishna on the streets When she was humiliated, ****** made fun off The same fearlessness When Radha danced for Krishna Even after Krishna left Vrindawan for Dwarka The same fearlessness With which Hussaiyn Ali Martryed his life at Karbala While trusting someone The same fearlessness Of Sita when she withstood The tests of Rama's accusations The same fearlessness When Bahi Taru Singh suffered governor's brutal torture The same fearlessness When Mirziyaan gave his bow & arrow To Sahibaan knowing that The tip of his arrow may be blunted Leading to his death The same fearlessness When Romeo drank the poison And Zuliet stabbed herself with a dagger The same fearlessness That made Layla fall sick & died on hearing that Her Majnun is roaming mad in wilderness; Later on hearing about Layla's death Majnun died near Layla's grave The same fearlessness When Rabia wanted to Cease the fire of hell and Set alight hopes of paradise The same fearlessness Of Rumi who guards The divine light of LOVE The same fearlessness When one is compelled by soul energy to LOVE BELOVEDz That is the fearlessness I am talking about "The fearlessness of LOVE" *
0
Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 11:55 PM UTC
FEARLESSNESS
he won't shut up when he's around he wants to write everything keeps on formulating phrases hallucinating couches into flying carpets swearing that he's seen the ground from the sky The Poet we never know what he's doing - turning black sheep into heaven he's stuck on the inside looking out The Poet he won't shut up but when I really need him he's no where to be found when he wants what he wants in these poems of his I know I'll wind up embarrassed humiliated and forlorn The Poet when he's around he won't shut up he keeps going on and on And when he's gone Silence.
0
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 9:33 PM UTC
The Poet
Flipping threw my old yearbook I see girls who were once gorgeous tooken my the devils hand pregnant and life beaten now horrendous I remember seeing them with there cheerleading outfits on As I sat in a corner by myself I here them laughing and chatting about going to tonys house after school I remember tony strong handsome captain of the highschool world I saw him two weeks ago With his hands covering his face And a shot next to him 3 empty beers infront He really let himself go I remember thinking fat and forgotten about still clinging to that highschool dream I remember him saying I was a loser as he flipped my lunch tray and humiliated me by reading my little notebook of writes I remember saying to him one day ill have the last laugh one day ill see you down and out and you'll ask me for a handout going back to the bar I sit down A couple stools down to see if he recognised me He finished his 3 beers as I finished my long island ice tee he said to the bar tender I gotta *** be right back I followed him to the restroom and we were a ****** apart I looked over and seen his small patheic ***** as I looked at my ***** I laughed and I laughed and I laughed looked over at tony and said see sir I did get the last laugh and I left I hope he knows me now I hope he knows me now
0
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC
highschool run in
slave is someone who does not have authority over their own lives slave is someone subservient controlled dominated by somebody something slave works very hard for little or no pay slave is property of somebody something slave is someone forced to obey sycophant is someone servile who overly flatters more powerful individual for personal gain sycophant is bootlicker brown-noser fawner flunkey doormat lackey lap-dog yes-men parasite toad-eater (pause reposition) somebody possessed of excessive vanity may cultivate sycophant swarms side by side they stand clothed in black not quite similar the one slightly taller possibly because the other suffers poor posture perhaps they are related because in odd way they appear alike or of same ilk yet upon closer scrutiny it becomes apparent they have very little or nothing in common the taller one with troubled sad eyes the other smiling obsequiously the taller one more muscular ***** from working menial labor the other with curved spine slumped shoulders because of undue bowing and crouching while blowing smoke up other people’s ***** sadist is someone who attains ****** gratification by inflicting physical pain shame to other people sadist is someone who delights in excessive cruelty degradation to others ********* is someone who achieves ****** pleasure from being hurt humiliated abused dominated punished often self-inflicted ********* is someone who enjoys being harmed misused mistreated ignored by others sadomasochist is someone who gets ****** gratification by alternately or simultaneously enduring hurt causing pain to somebody else sadomasochist is combination of sadistic masochistic tendencies in someone who obtains ****** pleasure from inflicting submitting to pain cruelty sycophant slave snakes up leg of movie actress dictator who gains pain through pleasure 2000 miles from equator IED cell phone detonator sycophant dilettante ***** up to sadistic art critic or publishing editor on escalator while below on main floor of shopping mall ice rink figure skater pirouettes bows to nominator surreptitiously bribed by infiltrator mutilator
0
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 4:38 AM UTC
sycophant slave snakes up leg of movie actress dictator
slave is someone who does not have authority over their own lives slave is someone subservient controlled dominated by somebody something slave works very hard for little or no pay slave is property of somebody something slave is someone forced to obey sycophant is someone servile who overly flatters more powerful individual for personal gain sycophant is bootlicker brown-noser fawner flunkey doormat lackey lap-dog yes-men parasite toad-eater (pause reposition) somebody possessed of excessive vanity may cultivate sycophant swarms side by side they stand clothed in black not quite similar the one slightly taller possibly because the other suffers poor posture perhaps they are related because in odd way they appear alike or of same ilk yet upon closer scrutiny it becomes apparent they have very little or nothing in common the taller one with troubled sad eyes the other smiling obsequiously the taller one more muscular ***** from working menial labor the other with curved spine slumped shoulders because of undue bowing and crouching while blowing smoke up other people’s ***** sadist is someone who attains ****** gratification by inflicting physical pain shame to other people sadist is someone who delights in excessive cruelty degradation to others ********* is someone who achieves ****** pleasure from being hurt humiliated abused dominated punished often self-inflicted ********* is someone who enjoys being harmed misused mistreated ignored by others sadomasochist is someone who gets ****** gratification by alternately or simultaneously enduring hurt causing pain to somebody else sadomasochist is combination of sadistic masochistic tendencies in someone who obtains ****** pleasure from inflicting submitting to pain cruelty sycophant slave snakes up leg of movie actress dictator who gains pain through pleasure 2000 miles from equator IED cell phone detonator sycophant dilettante ***** up to sadistic art critic or publishing editor on escalator while below on main floor of shopping mall ice rink figure skater pirouettes bows to nominator surreptitiously bribed by infiltrator mutilator
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7
Remembering those that are keeping it all together whilst being screamed at, humiliated, insulted, offended and hurt. Those who feel like screaming but holding the meltdown in check. Those who are frustrated and trapped and killing somebody seemed the best option but just do not have the right state of mind. Those whom in the ugly face of violence, are still fighting for their right to freedom of choice. Freedom for a right to live equally because, life has dealt them a hard hand. A right to be who they dream to be. Those that are being mistaken for their tears as mere weakness. Those that have lost their spirit to fight but are hoping-still. Those who are in their lowest now but still faithful and pressing on despite everything. Those that feel the need to cry but had to smile instead. Those who live within their means but wish there could have been more or be more because of another brother, sister, relative in need. Those who put every one elses need ahead of their own. Lest we forget, you are remembered today.
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May 12, 2020
May 12, 2020 at 6:29 PM UTC
Lest we forget
beauty marks and kisses from angels dots on white checked every year they made my mom sick they burned them cut them froze them they cover her more than me like sprinkles little moments in time spread over her body my fingers would trail them feel the way they changed her skin I loved her dark spots until I realized they did not love her I've grown my skin has stretched mine pulled my dark spots apart from where they started If I could show you just how much I've changed I would show you with my dark spots I would show you how they started here and moved and changed and grew I would tell you how one dark spot has tracked my growth it never expected to be pulled down with the years but my growth prevailed and there it lies miles away from it's home I would show you the one that I touch when I am nervous but not a bad nervous the nervous that excites that entices that knows there is more to find an adventure abroad your love to steal I touched this dark spot when I first saw you I still run my finger over it every time we meet I would show you the scar where one was cut out where my kiss from an angel was suspected to be a kiss from cruel fate where my Mother's sickness shined through me where I felt mortality for the first time I lost my first tooth that summer day hours before they took my first dark spot it was as if my body knew it was time to grow up now that I had thought of death there was no point for baby teeth their assessments were wrong my dark spot was an angel's kiss but the risk was too great a lighter body and an aged mind moved forward my kiss gone my blessings gone as well I would show you the ones that come every year that lightly dust my nose I would run your finger over the skin to show you that they are as fleeting as the season that they pop up as fast as they leave just like you did you left with those dark spots I would show you the ones that make me who I am make me who we are the triangle on my left arm the triangle that all the women in my family share the women that are the strongest I know that have their own dark spots their own stories such a vast valley between our lives joined by our love by our past by our dark spots all in the same shape I would show you my fourth dark spot I would show you the thing that I am most proud and humiliated of the fact that I am not wholly one of them the fact that I am my own I would ask you to flip me over to run your hand across my back to clutch my ribs to touch the dark spots I cannot see to give you the dark spots that are for you I would show you the dark spots that are for you when I walk away when I lay next to you under you in front of you if I could show you how much I've changed I would show you my dark spots the ones that belong to you the ones that belong to the angels the ones that belong to the cruel fate the ones that are from my mother I would show you the ones that bind me to the women in my family but most of all I would show you the ones that are just mine that only I know I want you to know them too I want you to know my dark spots
0
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 12:21 AM UTC
Dark Spots
beauty marks and kisses from angels dots on white checked every year they made my mom sick they burned them cut them froze them they cover her more than me like sprinkles little moments in time spread over her body my fingers would trail them feel the way they changed her skin I loved her dark spots until I realized they did not love her I've grown my skin has stretched mine pulled my dark spots apart from where they started If I could show you just how much I've changed I would show you with my dark spots I would show you how they started here and moved and changed and grew I would tell you how one dark spot has tracked my growth it never expected to be pulled down with the years but my growth prevailed and there it lies miles away from it's home I would show you the one that I touch when I am nervous but not a bad nervous the nervous that excites that entices that knows there is more to find an adventure abroad your love to steal I touched this dark spot when I first saw you I still run my finger over it every time we meet I would show you the scar where one was cut out where my kiss from an angel was suspected to be a kiss from cruel fate where my Mother's sickness shined through me where I felt mortality for the first time I lost my first tooth that summer day hours before they took my first dark spot it was as if my body knew it was time to grow up now that I had thought of death there was no point for baby teeth their assessments were wrong my dark spot was an angel's kiss but the risk was too great a lighter body and an aged mind moved forward my kiss gone my blessings gone as well I would show you the ones that come every year that lightly dust my nose I would run your finger over the skin to show you that they are as fleeting as the season that they pop up as fast as they leave just like you did you left with those dark spots I would show you the ones that make me who I am make me who we are the triangle on my left arm the triangle that all the women in my family share the women that are the strongest I know that have their own dark spots their own stories such a vast valley between our lives joined by our love by our past by our dark spots all in the same shape I would show you my fourth dark spot I would show you the thing that I am most proud and humiliated of the fact that I am not wholly one of them the fact that I am my own I would ask you to flip me over to run your hand across my back to clutch my ribs to touch the dark spots I cannot see to give you the dark spots that are for you I would show you the dark spots that are for you when I walk away when I lay next to you under you in front of you if I could show you how much I've changed I would show you my dark spots the ones that belong to you the ones that belong to the angels the ones that belong to the cruel fate the ones that are from my mother I would show you the ones that bind me to the women in my family but most of all I would show you the ones that are just mine that only I know I want you to know them too I want you to know my dark spots
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101
It is not punishment if you don't feel pain embarrassed humiliated even if there's force anger resounded curses pronounced. Punitive means can come in the form of simplest actions, sometimes without intentions.
0
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
Punishment
How could you leave me so unexpected? I was waiting, I was waiting For you but you just left me I needed you, I needed you Yo, I don't know what it's like to be addicted to ***** But I do know what it's like to be a witness it kills You told me you love me, I'm thinking this isn't real I think of you when I get a whiff of that cigarette smell, yeah Welcome to the bottom of hell They say pain is a prison, let me out of my cell You say you proud of me, but you don't know me that well Sit in my room, tears running down my face and I yell Into my pillowcases, you say you coming to get me Then call me a minute later just to tell me you not, I'm humiliated I'm in a room with a parent that I don't barely know Some lady in the corner watching us, while she taking notes I don't get it dad, don't you want to watch your baby boy grow? I guess that ***** is more important, all you have to say is no But you won't do it will you? You gon' keep drinking 'til the ***** kills you I know you gone but I can still feel you Why would you leave me? Why would you leave me here? How could you leave me here? How would you leave me? Why would you leave me? Oh, Hey I got this picture in my room and it kills me But I don't need a picture of my dad, I need the real thing Now a relationship is something we won't ever have Why do I feel like I lost something that I never had? You shoulda been there when I graduated Told me you love me and congratulations Instead you left me at the window waiting Where you at dad? I was too young to understand where you at huh? Yeah, I know that alcohol  got you held captive I can see it in your eyes, its got your mind captured Some say it's fun to get the high but I am not laughing What you don't realise and what you not grasping That I was nothing but a kid who couldn't understand I ain't gon' say that I forgive you cause it hasn't happened I thought that maybe I feel better as time passes If you really cared for me, then where you at then? Why would you leave me? Why would you leave me? How could you leave me here? How would you leave me? Why would you leave me? Hey Our last conversation, you and I sat in the living room Playing our video games, you started slurring and I broke down in front of you You started crying, telling me this isn't you Couple weeks later, guess you were singing a different tune You Drank that ***** for the last time, didn't you? It took you from me once, guess It came back to finish you Crying my eyes out in the studio is difficult Music is the only place that I can go to speak to you It took everything inside of me to not scream at your funeral Sitting in my chair, that person talking was pitiful I wish you were here dad but every time I picture you All I feel is pain, I hate the way I remember you They found you on the floor, I could tell that you felt hollow Gave everything you had plus your life to those jack bottles You gave everything you had plus your life to them jack bottles Don't know if you hear me or not, but if you still watching why Why would you leave me? Why would you leave me? How could you leave me here? How would you leave me? Why would you leave me? Hey
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Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 5:29 PM UTC
Why would you leave me
How could you leave me so unexpected? I was waiting, I was waiting For you but you just left me I needed you, I needed you Yo, I don't know what it's like to be addicted to ***** But I do know what it's like to be a witness it kills You told me you love me, I'm thinking this isn't real I think of you when I get a whiff of that cigarette smell, yeah Welcome to the bottom of hell They say pain is a prison, let me out of my cell You say you proud of me, but you don't know me that well Sit in my room, tears running down my face and I yell Into my pillowcases, you say you coming to get me Then call me a minute later just to tell me you not, I'm humiliated I'm in a room with a parent that I don't barely know Some lady in the corner watching us, while she taking notes I don't get it dad, don't you want to watch your baby boy grow? I guess that ***** is more important, all you have to say is no But you won't do it will you? You gon' keep drinking 'til the ***** kills you I know you gone but I can still feel you Why would you leave me? Why would you leave me here? How could you leave me here? How would you leave me? Why would you leave me? Oh, Hey I got this picture in my room and it kills me But I don't need a picture of my dad, I need the real thing Now a relationship is something we won't ever have Why do I feel like I lost something that I never had? You shoulda been there when I graduated Told me you love me and congratulations Instead you left me at the window waiting Where you at dad? I was too young to understand where you at huh? Yeah, I know that alcohol  got you held captive I can see it in your eyes, its got your mind captured Some say it's fun to get the high but I am not laughing What you don't realise and what you not grasping That I was nothing but a kid who couldn't understand I ain't gon' say that I forgive you cause it hasn't happened I thought that maybe I feel better as time passes If you really cared for me, then where you at then? Why would you leave me? Why would you leave me? How could you leave me here? How would you leave me? Why would you leave me? Hey Our last conversation, you and I sat in the living room Playing our video games, you started slurring and I broke down in front of you You started crying, telling me this isn't you Couple weeks later, guess you were singing a different tune You Drank that ***** for the last time, didn't you? It took you from me once, guess It came back to finish you Crying my eyes out in the studio is difficult Music is the only place that I can go to speak to you It took everything inside of me to not scream at your funeral Sitting in my chair, that person talking was pitiful I wish you were here dad but every time I picture you All I feel is pain, I hate the way I remember you They found you on the floor, I could tell that you felt hollow Gave everything you had plus your life to those jack bottles You gave everything you had plus your life to them jack bottles Don't know if you hear me or not, but if you still watching why Why would you leave me? Why would you leave me? How could you leave me here? How would you leave me? Why would you leave me? Hey
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64
What failures oh the failures of leaving home at seventeen of living and thriving as a minority foreigner of working and studying to post-grad levels of maturing wonderfully and being up and decent of loving and marrying and creating a good home of no crime, no debts, not a drunk, not a player of no stained reputation, no borrowing or theft of being easy-going, nice and friendly, an all-rounder what failures the failure of being successful and capable in grace the failure of doing so well a white neighbor burgled the failure of saying that's not right, you're rotten thieves the failure of standing up to bullying thieving mobs the failure of being gangstalked and destroyed the failure of being an educated professional black the failure of being a solid, courageous, wholesome man the failure of knowing you can't do wrong and get by Ladies and Gentlemen these are my failures Its all there in black and white its the failure of being a minority In the british democracy of the Socialists for it is greed to work hard and be successful its a failure for blacks to aspire and do well when your white neighbor is a drunken, welfare dependent waster and thief And Blacks beware, for if you dare tell them to go change you will be stalked, hounded, smeared, defamed, humiliated harassed, bullied, slandered, sabotaged, and basically driven to suicide or a breakdown They manufacture Failures to reflect their own failures They call it Trading Places and dish it out to 'Uppity' Blacks
0
Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 7:40 AM UTC
Failure by design.........
What failures oh the failures of leaving home at seventeen of living and thriving as a minority foreigner of working and studying to post-grad levels of maturing wonderfully and being up and decent of loving and marrying and creating a good home of no crime, no debts, not a drunk, not a player of no stained reputation, no borrowing or theft of being easy-going, nice and friendly, an all-rounder what failures the failure of being successful and capable in grace the failure of doing so well a white neighbor burgled the failure of saying that's not right, you're rotten thieves the failure of standing up to bullying thieving mobs the failure of being gangstalked and destroyed the failure of being an educated professional black the failure of being a solid, courageous, wholesome man the failure of knowing you can't do wrong and get by Ladies and Gentlemen these are my failures Its all there in black and white its the failure of being a minority In the british democracy of the Socialists for it is greed to work hard and be successful its a failure for blacks to aspire and do well when your white neighbor is a drunken, welfare dependent waster and thief And Blacks beware, for if you dare tell them to go change you will be stalked, hounded, smeared, defamed, humiliated harassed, bullied, slandered, sabotaged, and basically driven to suicide or a breakdown They manufacture Failures to reflect their own failures They call it Trading Places and dish it out to 'Uppity' Blacks
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32
isn't it funny how someone who never ever crosses your mind could be thinking of you, obsessed consumed with love, guilt, hatred, consumed with thoughts of you you try to hurt me, but you don't understand you're a child, a nothing, grasping at straws to try to what exactly are you trying to do to me? embarrass me? oh, child, i've been through things you could never think of i've been down, humiliated, stepped on your foolish attempts to hurt me are flattering because you're reminding me that whether for good reasons or bad, you care about me. and knowing that, you can never bring me down.
0
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 6:01 PM UTC
immaturity
My neighbour Is very courteous We oft connverse On local topics Sometimes coffee or tea Creates laughter At his marvel home And sweet words Flow on his lips Once in june's rough weather Marriage of Miss. P The daughter of Mr. A Was at a banquet hall For us no card My son entered the hall In no time he was kicked out For there was a tattoo Pasted naturally on his face He returned humiliated And innocence lost
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Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 12:43 PM UTC
My Neighbour
He loved it when she slid up to him, as sweet as a sprinkle doughnut - but now, something has befallen her, she's been burned or frozen, tastes more like cinnamon raisin; but by virtue of his firelit face and tall tales, he still gets invited out. _____________________________ He creaks upstairs an hour late, we are already tangled up on the back porch, smoking, and the liquor has made everything an economy of scale. He is a ray of sunshine. Tells us all the old groaners. The big fish. Ultimately says, "Happy birthday. Never let your guard down." and hobbles off, with barb-wire chafing his heel, and the rheumatic suspicion that "rest" and "wellness" are the fables taught to us by bogeymen, trying to convince us there are no bogeymen. I am a tender Twenty tonight. I want to twirl my fists in Muhammad Ali speedbag-spirals, saying, "I am the champion. Never undefended." But I am too drunk, and maybe too humiliated. God! He floats like painkillers. He stings like loss. There he is, the tall order, the iron giant: a two-story brainfreeze milkshake. I shudder, a pipsqueak of a prizefighter. The bucktoothed squirt at the icecream booth, too short to notice that there are only three flavours.
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Sep 15, 2010
Sep 15, 2010 at 3:01 PM UTC
A Birthday Poem
street cred makes a boy a man able to take care of business declares manhood then why are they actin fools around women playen, traden and, braken hearts forgetting that is someones daughter, sister, mother, etc women give birth to men and are trampled on by men humiliated, disrespected, disregarded, mistreated, abused and, neglected all with a smile and honey coated words sweat melting int he mouth bitter swallowing disturbing to the stomach, difficult to ***** out trapping women desperate for safety proudly declaring: "i am man" sealed with appalling behaviour this is how i see the generation, from which i have to choose my mate from party,high maintenance girls chosen dependable good women ignored this begs the question what is a real man lots declare publicly, i am a good man bias and subjected words to safe faded honor honor a word created to make ego taste better
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Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
2013.10.25.2
Dirt . Grimey filth. That's what you are. A cheat. A liar. A womanizer. I accepted you. Into my heart. Into my eyes. Loved the love You gave to me. Accepted the disguise. Knowing you were bad for me, I took your hand. Accepted the lies You fed to me. I still don't understand. How you'd break a promise As pure as mine. I'll never understand. But I guess that's Just fine. She's everything I'm not. She isn't humiliated. Or empty. I still feel for you, And you used me, So simply I give you this goodbye. Breaking my passion. To the one I once admired. Take the pieces that you broke. Turn my blood Into fire.
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May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
CHEAT!
Born of fear, fueled by anger This resentment I feel for you Creates abscesses on my soul Poison filled sacs of toxic hate which Rise like bile in my gullet To choke my spirit Much like the dead alcoholic Who's aspirated on His own ***** and phlegm A bloated purple carcass Devoid of autonomy of spirit Self-obsession robs me Of conscious truth Fear - that your indictments Against me will be brought Before the grand jury of The universe and I will be found lacking Resentment - at you for not becoming A willing patron of My brand of truth Anger - at me for my own failings Brought to light Secrets I can no longer hide While my defects are Glaringly obvious to One as enlightened as You purport to be Did not your path to Spiritual perfection Contain the blueprint to Correct your vain sins of glory and Indignant self-deception? Is not your lofty status Grand enough to look upon My humiliated soul with Something less than contempt?
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Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
TRIANGLE
I stand alone, Under the eye of the Ebony storm. Creating what was once beautiful. Now humiliated. Cries of the innocence, Fade into the dark. As the Storm increases in fury. My wings spread, I soar high. Soaking every feather, Every tear. Every Lie. No scars shalt come. Only time will tell.
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
I stand alone
Write about being seen, really being seen. (Remember to go with your "first flash," and write for 10 minutes without stopping or thinking.) I was so humiliated. Besides feeling humiliated, I felt like I was on display. Each step I took down the hallway, every person in every little group glared at me, glanced away, and the whispers were buzzing. I felt it unjust, but I knew I brought it on myself. I cannot say I felt betrayal, as I was the original betrayer, (well, he was, but our emotional volley had collapsed with the weight of my action) but I hated him for savoring the revenge of my ruined reputation. I knew the pain I bestowed on him wouldn’t go away, but his smug satisfaction of broadcasting my shame only added to my humiliation. When is graduation? Exactly two months away. That was April first, and I would have my high school diploma June 1st. I was a survivor, for my whole life, and although it was awful, I knew I could get past it. Still, every step I took in the hallway following that dreaded day, every move I made, every word I spoke, every breath I exhaled– was noticed, and I was judged without given the opportunity to provide an explanation of my perspective. High school rumors were ruthless, but what was worse is when it wasn’t a rumor. It was a scandal. Even though no one dared to ask about it, to obtain information from me, I knew they all knew. Everyone knew, and once the basic information was known, details were not important. I wondered how many other girls experienced what I was experiencing, having to hold their head high and act proud despite the shame. It was strengthening, inadvertently, but the only other option was to hide away and avoid everyone. Even with a reputation, I couldn’t do that. Peers whispered and laughed degrading words, female faculty cast judgmental stares and all male teachers avoided eye contact, to avoid any association with me.
0
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 7:00 AM UTC
Writing Prompt July 19th
Write about being seen, really being seen. (Remember to go with your "first flash," and write for 10 minutes without stopping or thinking.) I was so humiliated. Besides feeling humiliated, I felt like I was on display. Each step I took down the hallway, every person in every little group glared at me, glanced away, and the whispers were buzzing. I felt it unjust, but I knew I brought it on myself. I cannot say I felt betrayal, as I was the original betrayer, (well, he was, but our emotional volley had collapsed with the weight of my action) but I hated him for savoring the revenge of my ruined reputation. I knew the pain I bestowed on him wouldn’t go away, but his smug satisfaction of broadcasting my shame only added to my humiliation. When is graduation? Exactly two months away. That was April first, and I would have my high school diploma June 1st. I was a survivor, for my whole life, and although it was awful, I knew I could get past it. Still, every step I took in the hallway following that dreaded day, every move I made, every word I spoke, every breath I exhaled– was noticed, and I was judged without given the opportunity to provide an explanation of my perspective. High school rumors were ruthless, but what was worse is when it wasn’t a rumor. It was a scandal. Even though no one dared to ask about it, to obtain information from me, I knew they all knew. Everyone knew, and once the basic information was known, details were not important. I wondered how many other girls experienced what I was experiencing, having to hold their head high and act proud despite the shame. It was strengthening, inadvertently, but the only other option was to hide away and avoid everyone. Even with a reputation, I couldn’t do that. Peers whispered and laughed degrading words, female faculty cast judgmental stares and all male teachers avoided eye contact, to avoid any association with me.
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5
My issues are nothing new, Not old either. Just common. Isn't that's what we all are? Similar are our difficulties. Just different setting, different levels. We all are heirs to wisdom. It grows and we learn. I take my time with it. I lean forward. I try. Everything is interconnected. Everything is same. Everything is common. This world is common. I'm bored and aren't you? Shapes, colours, snowflakes. Nothing were made to be similar. The reason it's all so very interesting. To feel, to see and to touch. Their intricate patterns amuses me. If the day goes white to blue, And the nights yellow to black. Aren't we all necessary. All the colours. We weren't made to be different. Be separated and humiliated. But guess what we learned from humility. We let wisdom grow inside us. We let it strengthen our bonds. We accepted us and so did others. Now we come up at first. And Now we stand out. In a world this common, Its refreshing to be different.
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
Common