"irresponsibly" poems
I've seen you in striped white,
I've seen you in black wrap-around tops,
I've seen you in stilettos,
I've seen you in Fitflops.
I've seen you in the bluest of days,
I've seen you in the rainiest of nights,
I've seen you in the face of the sun,
I've seen you in the wind-full of kites.
I've seen you in the trajectory of life,
I've seen you stare at me with care,
I've seen you in the droplets of water,
I've seen you in every castle in the air.
I've seen you dreaming,
I've seen you back in reality,
I've seen you physically Earthy,
I've seen you emotionally Mars-y,
I've seen you sad and jubilant,
I've seen you troubled, but kept a smile,
I've seen you doubled - in poker,
I've seen you gone crazily wild.
I've seen you in green-blinking nails,
I've seen you return my stutters,
I've seen you stand tall - confident,
I've seen you slouch - don't matter.
I've seen you looking into empty spaces,
I've seen you looking into a tasty plate,
I've seen you doubt yourself,
I've seen you believing in fate.
I've seen you in the bakery,
I've seen you in a factory,
I've seen you in your beauty,
I've seen you in your most ball-sy.
I've seen you in the bus,
I've seen you read,
I've seen you pick up a microphone,
I've seen you speaking with speed.
I've seen you with a newspaper,
I've seen you with an iPad,
I've seen you with a t-shirt,
I've seen you stylishly clad.
I've seen you work hard,
I've seen you studied irresponsibly,
I've seen you proud,
I've seen you flicker embarrassingly.
I've seen you here,
I've seen you there,
I've seen you near,
I've seen you everywhere.
I've seen enough,
I've seen you in extremes,
I've seen you thorough,
I've seen you in teams.
I've seen you verily,
I've seen you truly,
I've seen so much inspiration,
I've seen you guilty.
I've seen "I've seen" 58 times,
I've seen you more than that few.
But I would've seen nothing more,
If I've seen none of you.
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 4:56 AM UTC
Even when I'm simple you turn away,
I am sitting here telling you I'm not okay,
Turn your head from my cries if you’re mean,
These things I tell are something, they are keen,
Understand that you’re not there for me,
Paying bills is not the key,
I cry to you, of all I care,
So much I have had to bare,
No pity please, I want none,
But I'm not liking the shun,
You always disrespect my heart,
Irresponsibly shooting a missing dart,
Hello there, please remember me,
I need attention too, can't you see,
Denial fills you, in your mind,
Thinking you are so kind,
The love I feel, but not the attention
Is any of this comprehension
Listen to me, here me out,
Be there when I begin to cry out.
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 11:41 AM UTC
Be wary of the
paradoxical, neglected sentience among the departed minds
Seek the route which makes accessible...an absolute truth
oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, calcium, nitrogen, phosphorus
The composition of life
The creation of awareness, drifting from your nature
live irresponsibly, expose the fear to danger
it will devour the inessential anxiousness
and set yourself free
release from obligation,
release from routine duties
the masquerade of conditioning
no longer possessing you
bare spirit,
confront yourself
See the illusion, its deception
of your perception
remove the veil and feel
intensified anguish of the acknowledgment
of authorities dominance
to invent and forge manufactured minds
to divide us, impregnate the beauty
with depraved psychosis
then label it with sanity
taint them with vanity
to take the present moment
as an opportunity to breathe
here and now, everlasting liberation
reality, what is sincere?
What is truth?
It’s an option you determine
sight, holy sight
creating this world, this dread
this opportunity to break loose
undress and **** the reality in camouflage
reborn through a perceptual experience
the wilderness is within
the blinking 4th dimension
will soon carry us away
to an enigmatic change in sensory perception
the ego, self importance, it will pass away
is there a choice, a selection of setting?
When you zoom out of earth
examine closely the size of this
universe, we are microscopic babies
from the womb of infinite mystery
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 4:10 PM UTC
Thoughtlessly people lead to
dead kittens
Irresponsibly people lead to
dead children
think and take responsibility
otherwise
we'll end up with nothing
but
dead kittens and children
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 5:57 PM UTC
This is no poem.
They are my thoughts and views.
Nobody wants to give service but everybody wants to enjoy service.
Politicians would misuse national assets and wealth, deny citizens of the deserved services but chase them for taxes.
Citizens lazy around their work, avoid tax, act irresponsibly when using national assets but are first to cry out for what they deserve from the nation.
Certain pastors would not spend time to prepare a good sermon but would be expecting all church members to be all punctual and giving off their best in might and wealth for the church.
There also are church members who would go to church late, sit, sing and leave early but still complain bitterly about how things are not going right in the church. They easily see how unkept the church premises is and would do nothing about it but seriously expect something to be done about it.
Husbands want to be loved but are the last to show love to wives. The same it is with certain wives as well.
Fathers want respect from children but act all irresponsibly and shirk their responsibilities.
Children want care, love, protection and provision from parents but would not respect and obey parents.
So everyone wants something but wants to give nothing.
When we **** that selfish attitude in our views of life, relationships would at least improve a bit and peace would find feet.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 8:31 AM UTC
Blast it!
We've put our eggs
in the wrong basket,
and now Little Liberty has dropped them.
She's dropped them.
She's dropped them!
She certainly did,
She dropped them!
Each egg splits, cracks, breaks,
all despite Liberty's bleeding
colors. Faded, young
hatching prematurely;
before their time.
Liberty heard her love-
boyish ruckus in The Bush.
Hurriedly she did run;
giving all her aide.
Unfortunately, careless Liberty did not see:
All our eggs are handled irresponsibly.
Soon after little Liberty's Bush date,
she saw what she could only surmount to fate:
Poster slapped to said Holy Tree,
plastered with Allah's face.
Hating those jihadist anyway,
Ignorant Liberty unloaded her bounty-
upon the sacred man's face.
It took a while
till Liberty thought,
looking down,
but by then,
we all thought it all too late.
But ,Little Liberty being supreme,
(totally Grade A,)
finally remembered to put the lid down.
Ah, now that should seal our fate,
her reasoning as she bounced and pranced away.
But just before she reached her people,
her sickness burst,
her pride was shook,
she couldn't show her face.
Afraid of what her people might say-
she reopened said lid, state of panic
flipped the basket promptly 'round.
All the little eggs crumbling to the ground.
Babies dispersed;
Children burnt and broken;
not to mention all the vital yolk;
nasty stuff and what a mess-
now onward to face my people.
But all is well;
she gives her spiel
about the alleged evil-doers.
People line-up,
hypnotized-
ready to give their last;
service, duty, and loyalty too
all for Little Miss Liberty.
Quite the siren, ain't she?
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 10:50 PM UTC
I've fallen in love
Irresponsibly, irrevocably like Bella in Twilight
It's cheesy
Beautiful
And terrifying
It's deep
And everything I could ever dream
It's romantic
Like a movie
Or a book
It smells like church and has unspoken promises of everything and nothing.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 11:19 AM UTC
Reality isn't what it seems to be
it isn't touch, nor sound
it isn't a taste, nor is it visual
reality is what is perceived
what is believed
what is understood to be true
even when the memory is not
when the heart makes up its mind
and the mind draws up its own conclusion
then that is reality
even when its wrong, unjustly created
what is real? what is not?
why what one person sees isn't the same
as what the next person saw? felt? heard?
is one of them wrong? if so, than how is it proven
or how is it dis-proven? video tapes and voice recorders
can only prove or disprove the event.
not the feeling that was felt, or the mental strain
that was placed. How can something feel so right
to one person, yet complete tear down another?
one thing felt so good, yet it was so bad for you?
there is no spoon, nor is there a hand to hold it
for as your mind bends to the force of your own thoughts
the labyrinth that it creates spins your reality into something
different, irrecoverable, irrevocable, irresponsibly
I stand here, looking terrible in your eyes, and with love
mirroring the effects of the icy stare
I stand here, looking terrible in my own eyes.
this is reality
unfixable? unforgivable? unimaginable?
maybe
but if there is a chance to fight the reality
to bend the spoon
to show you that my reality is not your reality
then...maybe
for this is real, with two different realities
Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 7:28 AM UTC
like clock work i pace this spinning ground,
summoning up these imaginary fallacies-
figuring out this forever changing world,
as i spin round and round-
clock wise, i think i've got it
counter that thought- i think i've lost it,
losing all grip on life-reality,
irresponsibly wandering through this lost life,
searching for meaning in these sandwich bags,
filled to the seal, with these evil prescriptions-
relax, everything is copacetic
i whisper into the empty bag;
in complete agreement with my two sides,
unanimously deciding against all odds-
to end this unrealistic dependency;
reliance on this rare but prominent object,
would be a complete and utter disaster;
among both sides they would bicker,
until they recreate that clock in my head;
spinning out of self control
i will patrol this empty room.
Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 11:29 AM UTC
8/11/2013
Summer Reflection
The summer of 2013.
The summer before my senior year of college.
It was the summer of sensations.
As time proceeded and I lost sight of nearly all initial goals,
I found myself frequently giving in to impulsive behaviors.
The money spending and time spent scheming my next dating endeavor,
or some other wild adventure,
reached an all time high.
It turned out not to be a time of learning as I had previously hoped for,
but instead,
a time of experiencing.
I lived like I never had before - irresponsibly,
yet completely embracing the throws and tides of life.
At first, I fell in love.
Not with my new found lifestyle,
and not with my new identity.
But I fell in love with another human being,
ultimately proving to myself that I am capable and vulnerable of and to the same vices as every other individual.
That started early in the summer as well as ended early
- my own decision,
which I thankfully did not feel damaged or jaded as a result of
- a sign that I have finally formed some semblance of emotional independence!
It was so nice to experience the trust from many friends who due to my recent 'coming out' decided to confide in and come out to me.
I felt kinda like a beacon of hope,
by serving as on open conversation opportunity for many of these friends.
A great responsibility which I gladly took on for them.
On that note,
I noticed a motif for the summer.
It seems as if everybody has recently developed a love life...
or at least a *** life.
So much *** gossip out of nowhere from people who normally don't dare to experience such an escapade.
It was an unprecedented growth maybe having something to do with age trends?
I'm not sure.
But then again,
who could have been back then?
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 2:02 PM UTC
Can't you see
that the fish was gasping for air?
For the sake of your lust,
wanting to have a triumphant end
to such a meaningless contest
you lure it from its world.
How could you inflicted that
on such innocent, lovely soul?
How could you treated its life
as if it is unworthy at all?
How could you even sleep
when you have wounded another soul?
Dead or alive,
you have no right
to irresponsibly acted in that way.
Ignorance, arrogance.
No regret, no guilt.
Yes, because you are all murderers!
Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 11:58 PM UTC
tired of my drooping Hanes,
my slept-in choice for greeting
a new morning tad overexposed,
my weekend breakfast table
body's accoutrement,
"coverup" she deemed accurately
as in-suffice,
my nighttime slept-in choice for
welcoming the new morning
as a single continuum,
exposing my true colors,
thus declaring biblically,
"Let there be night, let there be day,"
in a manner of speak
she-woman wryly declares
over her slim sizing
yogurt Greek and half of a laugh
of a banana downsized,
"You need some loungewear"
pondering this ponderosa-sized ponderosity,
grasping its monstrosity insulting me,
coffee pouring, Eye, a
first responder
contemplate irresponsibly,
thinking to reply with bravado,
that on said day,
when Eye accrete
such a class of clothing
so nomenclatured as
"loungewear"
upon my person,
or in my ward-so-unrobed found,
unasked for,
Eye will require transgendering
but my tongue bites me,
so instead
draw down on my John Donne,
on the subject of
food, good taste
and being unclothed,
and instead
He-poet
bequeath the she-woman
this riposte...
*"Full nakedness!
All joys are due to thee;
as souls unbodied,
bodies unclothed must be
to taste whole joys.*
wisely retreating than be
defeating,
not wanting
a world war conflicting,
with coffee mugged, Eye return/hide,
under the bed's blanketing comforter,
thinking of the taste of whole joys
of her body unclothed,
when later, she creeps in next to me,
to practice the serious art of
lounging...
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 9:30 AM UTC
she apologized with lilies and manufactured notes because her emotions were otherwise engaged
loved the taste of the stamps from letters never sent
made cars swerve to avoid her picking invisible flowers in the street
touched your soft cheek leaving tattoos of her favourite words
she left the candle burning when she left the house because she didn't want the ghosts to be cold
she knitted raincoats of lace and wore shoes of tulips
hosted masquerade ***** by herself,
for the sake of hiding from herself for a while
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
Erratic squirrels
Irresponsibly consume
Fermenting pumpkins.
Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 9:42 AM UTC
The dark early mornings
Where all is still quiet.
When the cities aren’t cities yet.
And I’m driving,
Like you were then.
I remember the feeling of safety
Enveloping me as I slept.
Even though you drove fast, reckless, irresponsibly.
With my eyes closed I felt nothing but comfort.
I am transported to that now
When I am behind the wheel.
Seeking that comfort.
Though the dangerous nature has been exposed
I still doze off.
It’s all I know.
All you’ve taught me.
And it hurts to be so far away now.
But I know our habits,
Not trying to suffer the way you are now.
In the guise of pleasure.
Trust was placed.
You made me this.
Through our experiences.
The soft glow of streetlights illuminating.
As you traveled up and down the mountains
Like nothing.
But really you were struggling.
I’m higher than you now.
Depressing but true.
I think of you.
But choose to keep my distance.
To not be apart of what you always were,
But I never knew.
But we will always have these near death experiences
And all the events that took place, while I was awake.
And how we both see them so differently now.
You were set on destinations.
I was lost in the scenery of anything
That presented itself.
The varying methods of heads just slightly apart.
I’ll think of this morning
Like I think of you.
Fleeting and unfortunate.
We drive on.
We get to where we are going,
Eventually.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 4:12 PM UTC
that honesty was the best kind of poetry.
So here it is. My kind of poetry
but your kind of honesty.
I am so
infinitely,
undeniably,
irresponsibly,
head of heels in love with you.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 2:37 AM UTC
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Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 5:32 PM UTC
He unsettles the deepest parts of me
tremors reverberate through my bones
awaken unfamiliar motives
spit dusky intentions into my skull.
His taste lingers with a burn on my lips
and I can still see the darkening bruises
his fingertips coaxed onto my skin.
They intensify by the day.
He planted seeds in my mouth
bouts of lurid need growing south
and he knows they're there.
I swear, his eyes drill holes in my lungs
where the cattails are tearing through
too fragile tissue
clinging to and pressing up against my chest
I think he sees their impressions on my flesh
but I can't break his gaze
I'm a moth and his eyes are ablaze
he's tracing my visible strain to look away
he wants me to miss the warmth of his flame
and I do.
Regrettably
Irresponsibly
Unequivocally
do.
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 12:36 AM UTC
**my joints are protective like laminates and coke corner lookouts
they're.. less forgiving, less tolerant
and less inclined to suppress significant emotion
so as much as it might make me no nevermind
you'll be unfairly called out
unfairly because it takes both halves of anything to fulfill a split
and i was so spent; our nonlove had used me up
cross me
and they're.. that much more callous, vindictive
and less likely to fall back and dust you off
is why every drop i co-author will vilify you
i swear on everything relevant
co-author because anyone who's been through anything
is the voice of my writs
and every someone afraid to ink it lives vicariously through rants
my joints won't not be heard
they.. won't be negotiated and can't be bought off
they know how irresponsibly you've loved
and mypoems won't hold their tongues
or your hand, i promise
you should watch your back and wonder no more
if everyone's looking at you or if you're trippin because.. they are
i told you not to **** with me
but you forced my hand
and i've written you up and posted your offenses on poetry boards;
a journal worth of she-love-not and who gives a ****
my readers get it
heartbreak.. that's universal
and everyone wishes they could articulate a dear john or jane
so i supply a public service
pro bono
this here... is the way to the mediator**
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
City lines illuminated by animated street lights reflect off of your skin.
Images of infant filled houses
and hospitals with new born fetal babies, juxtaposed fatal mothers,
emit off your body
in black and white stop motion,
slicked by this canvas of fluid blanket
And you, victim of lifelessness
lie cold and waterlogged
inhaling liquid, the new source of oxygen,
your eyes fogged and inverted submissively.
What was sung to sleep by hymnal chants
of incredulous mourning moans now lies
Dead
on a forgetful Sunday Evening.
The street lights give no respect
as they ponderously encroach,
Leaning in to hear your fleeting birdsong.
These lamp poles, tender and limber,
flex to form prayer circles, forgetting their rightful footings.
And with each inch bound tighter,
the circle emulates a power emitted through photonic light beams
bending irresponsibly to get closer to truth.
They then see it, and so does woman
Stopping by this wooded mausoleum.
She stands with inquisitive mittens, palms open and receiving.
Flecks of skin lift off your sinking vessel as what was you leaves into better places.
They drift, forming a clouded colony
crawling up webbing left to lead them correctly.
Each inch spreads more purity,
each meter strengthens recent weaknesses.
Woman notices a cloud gather above you,
and each particle refracts the whole galaxy with increasing detail and accuracy.
As your body turns to skeletal structure
you seep faster into the silt-heavy waters below,
your bones creating playgrounds and Eiffel Towers, hospital white in hue,
so clean it hurts.
The cloud moistens with rain,
it becomes heavy and starts to drift,
rocking,
in futile attempt to birth again.
And each fleck takes woman.
She spreads eagle and takes flight.
Toes lift individually and with lessened pressure,
she stretches each appendage as your flesh meshes with woman’s in unconventional ways,
every crevice and crack blanketed by you, what was.
The street lights pulsate as they observe in amazement
your transformation.
All is forgiven while the lamps induct you into purity
and absolve woman for witnessing this connection to God.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
Starting to believe I wasn't I meant for loving.
Everyone I care for, the emotion ends up being evicted & the population reduced to nothing
I sit the ones that love me on a slide and push until they can't hold on or sit any longer.
I see the ones I love at the bottom of hopeful slides & fall irresponsibly, faster and faster, the feeling getting stronger and stronger.
Now here I am again, loving another, loving you, & you don't want that, another smile I must part ways with.
I sit on a playground, laying in a sand box of my hearts sediments dampened by my tears, can't believe it took me this long to realize Love probably isn't the best thing to play with.
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 2:21 AM UTC
I see a new key close by
Not shiny
Or fancy
Not even sleek
But sturdy-looking
Substantial
And rigid inside.
Knowing myself and,
That every key leads to
New doors
I begin to reach out to it.
But I know that
A murky barrier surrounds it,
Just like the barrier around my heart.
And knowing myself best,
The high ice palace that
I reside upon,
The expansive, endless
Landscape of frozen tidal waves,
And the amount of times it has
Crumpled down
Because of illusions and
Darkness...
I understand
That reaching out quickly will
Break me down.
And it'll probably affect the key too.
However, I can only feel
The ice tower and landscape
That surrounds me
*So how can I handle taking care
Of a key all rusted inside,
If I'm just as unstable?*
I don't trust myself.
And I don't want to destroy
The key in front of me
Or the barrier that surrounds it
Irresponsibly.
So I will be wary
While reaching towards
This key
Ready to say
Goodbye.
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 9:09 AM UTC
It is a beautiful thing that I was born irresponsibly, irrepressibly, psychotic.
Oceans and ponds are just water.
One mile or a thousand can be walked.
It is beautiful that I wake up every morning as crazy and inconsolable as the one I was born on.
I have never thought she was too far.
Or beautiful, or successful for me.
I am a fool but I won.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
So
When all
The ****
Comes down
Are we really gonna go
Out
& **** eachother ?
Will we bother with the sound byte
Reasons
Or just say
I WANNA LIVE!!
••
••
We are truly acting so totally
Irresponsibly
It is quite impossible to comprehend
••
We write our love letters
To those soon to be killers
Of
Those soon -- dead
••
Killer or dead
•
•
Lovely lovely possibilities
•
But for the fear within all hearts
And the madness within all heads
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
*“Talk in everlasting words
*And dedicate them all to me
And I will give you all my life
I'm here if you should call to me
You think that I don't even mean
A single word I say
It's only words and words are all I have
To take your heart away”*
“Words” by the Bee Gees
<•>
words are orbs,
living in the airy space just
about above over my head
still plucking ‘em when the
spirits shake me awake,
speaking
“create, can’t wait,”
for if the instance slips by,
a
disparate disparaging displacement
though not fully lost,
the precise
conviction combination
precious precision decision
if not stepped upon with
a codifying immediacy urgency
can result in an
irreparably irreversible irresponsibly
l o s s,
feeling as if a piece of your
owned amazing
has been chipped off irretrievably,
flown away to a
never again
nether land
not lost on me that
the infinite symbol
∞
is sometimes called the
lazy eights
a minute momentous moment,
all it takes, for the loss of
infinity permanence of going
gone gone gone
read of a man,
in a creative place,
songwriter on a crowded California
Santa Monica highway,
with no place to pull off,
sings over again the tune birthing
with no intermission
repeating for hours the tune
and the lyrics
of a new (now famous) song,
proceeds
directly to the recording studio
to lay that track down
been there, done exactly that,
“while doing 85 mph on the
Long Island Expressway,”
(L.I..E. )
and those
everlasting words
live on today
Dec 28, 2024
Dec 28, 2024 at 10:05 AM UTC