Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"mindedness" poems
Kashmir Delirium Oh People Of Earth! Thankful are we, For each act of benevolence shown to us. Your gilded sweet words describing, The beauty of Kasmir, land and people. Mention in books and talks of it's riches, Naming it the Sweet Paradise Of Earth. The Lord has been bountiful to Kashmir, Treasure of resources in every sphere. To elevate each aspect, our wish for life, As every acre of this land is worth millions. Full of treasures and recreational value, Forestry with grandeur and silvery rivers. The outside world's view is so limited, Simple folks living in the lap of rich bounty. Mentioned in world forums and organizations, But what of the goal of giving us freedom? What has The UN established in our name? To measure the pain and anguish we bear, At the hands, of our supposed benefactors. The saviours who has us fractured. But in reality they train their enforcers, In the art of creating oceans of tears. The red blood now hidden in camouflage, The spent shells now gathered and hidden. The leaders we are told to elect in electoral shams, Run publicity kiosks and swell friend lists. Joint conferences to address personal interests Dialogues that never address the root issues. Just the formalities and no sympathy, For the ones burnt in cruel sadistic reprisals. The hypocrisy continues deliriously unabated, More augmentation of the security forces. For a first hand view of deep hypocrisy, Walk this land, you know as beautiful. Religious leaders will teach you political artistry, Sermons full of ambiguity and guile. Waywardness and narrow mindedness on display, Political apologists give great lessons. Religion and religious ethnicity are tools, That keep minds and bodies in total check. Gamesmanship by leaders is the rule of thumb, As promises are forgotten once office is obtained. When writing of this succulent beautiful land, Write of the air, pregnant with sadistic practices. This land is being stripped of worldly treasures, And the greatest treasure is mistreated daily. The best of nation is the inhabitants, Ignored are the real gems of this beautiful paradise.
0
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 6:44 AM UTC
Kashmir Delirium
Kashmir Delirium Oh People Of Earth! Thankful are we, For each act of benevolence shown to us. Your gilded sweet words describing, The beauty of Kasmir, land and people. Mention in books and talks of it's riches, Naming it the Sweet Paradise Of Earth. The Lord has been bountiful to Kashmir, Treasure of resources in every sphere. To elevate each aspect, our wish for life, As every acre of this land is worth millions. Full of treasures and recreational value, Forestry with grandeur and silvery rivers. The outside world's view is so limited, Simple folks living in the lap of rich bounty. Mentioned in world forums and organizations, But what of the goal of giving us freedom? What has The UN established in our name? To measure the pain and anguish we bear, At the hands, of our supposed benefactors. The saviours who has us fractured. But in reality they train their enforcers, In the art of creating oceans of tears. The red blood now hidden in camouflage, The spent shells now gathered and hidden. The leaders we are told to elect in electoral shams, Run publicity kiosks and swell friend lists. Joint conferences to address personal interests Dialogues that never address the root issues. Just the formalities and no sympathy, For the ones burnt in cruel sadistic reprisals. The hypocrisy continues deliriously unabated, More augmentation of the security forces. For a first hand view of deep hypocrisy, Walk this land, you know as beautiful. Religious leaders will teach you political artistry, Sermons full of ambiguity and guile. Waywardness and narrow mindedness on display, Political apologists give great lessons. Religion and religious ethnicity are tools, That keep minds and bodies in total check. Gamesmanship by leaders is the rule of thumb, As promises are forgotten once office is obtained. When writing of this succulent beautiful land, Write of the air, pregnant with sadistic practices. This land is being stripped of worldly treasures, And the greatest treasure is mistreated daily. The best of nation is the inhabitants, Ignored are the real gems of this beautiful paradise.
Continue reading...
49
**Strange how the dank hand of disaster clarifies the thinking, How all irrelevancies are scoured from the frontal lobe, How, strangely, should you look into the morning sky, the blueness is of a brilliant, startling intensity. How biting into a piece of fresh fruit reveals the new mouth watering,  exquisiteness of clean sweet,flavour. Strange how the dank hand of disaster allow us to consolidate our values. Where suddenly, the drabness of yesterday becomes the brightly,beautiful now. Where miserable mindedness adopts an abrupt re-evaluation, in that the sour faced neighbour is embraced with passion as being a fellow survivor. Where the rich and the poor are thrown together to work willingly, cheek by jowel, for a common cause…Tomorrow!. Strange how the dank hand of disaster brings out THE VERY BEST IN US …isn’t it ?** Marshalg A commonality observed In having survived many disasters over the years. 1 November 2012
0
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 12:26 AM UTC
Touched by the Dank Hand of Disaster.
1 My mother would say: “Little boy Raj… Go to Muthu’s and get some cinnamon, betel leaves and ginger and garlic” And so I go to the shops singing all the way and when Muthu asks me what I’d want I rattle off a list: “Sesame seeds, onions tomatoes and pickles” And back home, Mother twists my ears Ouch! 2 And inevitably I grew up and inevitably I got married and inevitably my wife says to me: “Dear husband whom I married in a fire-ceremony; could you kindly go to Woolies and get me some flour, castor sugar, pepper, pasta sauce and pancakes…” And so I drive to Woolies singing all the way; and walking down the aisles I throw the following into the trolley: cinnamon, betel leaves and ginger and garlic… And back home though my wife does not twist my ears I feel Mother reach forward from the other world and she twists my ears Ouch!
0
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 4:03 AM UTC
absent-mindedness; or I Dream of Spices
♦   ♦   ♦ She was an earnest devotée. Her ideals, birthed in Chardonnay were globally diverse (read: white). A liberal bark preceded bite. Her crystal clearer than her vision; she provoked bemused derision as she breathed intolerance toward all who would not dance her dance. She swooned for distant pagan tribes, attuned to their exotic vibes – rapt in multi-culti piety strangely deaf to her own society, judged by her as abomination; unredeemed. The background station always stuck on N.P.R. (the soundtrack of her culture war, Pacifica News and Democracy Nows, and other progressive holy cows) Her motherland a shameful mystery: guilty first, and void of history – its origins defiled, corrupted… while she enjoyed uninterrupted freedom to pursue her whims: misguided one-world global hymns. The sisterhood of hu(man) kind was foremost in her earnest mind – even should that same sisterhood be sealed by her well-meaning blood. Out on a date with global death she hoped to unify the earth in solidarity with causes led by killers, warlord bosses, thugs she never knew existed who, if she’d met she’d have resisted. Her theory landed far from her praxis spun, by default, on an evil axis. Hot with zeal she fumed and stormed quite certain she was well-informed, at benefits, non-profit functions rallies, boycotts, left-wing luncheons; warm with righteous spite for Israel, aiding and abetting Ishmael with fellow-travelers, like-minded similarly hateful, blinded, rattling sabers, scimitars, axes… (lunacy never wanes, but waxes hotter with the passing years as activists confront their fears). She finally shilled for the Intifada (stopping short of reciting Shahada), reaching out to the terrorist with righteous raised progressive fist… offering thus her neck to blade: collateral to be repaid by murderers who couldn’t care less about her open-mindedness.
0
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
Suicide by Diversity
♦   ♦   ♦ She was an earnest devotée. Her ideals, birthed in Chardonnay were globally diverse (read: white). A liberal bark preceded bite. Her crystal clearer than her vision; she provoked bemused derision as she breathed intolerance toward all who would not dance her dance. She swooned for distant pagan tribes, attuned to their exotic vibes – rapt in multi-culti piety strangely deaf to her own society, judged by her as abomination; unredeemed. The background station always stuck on N.P.R. (the soundtrack of her culture war, Pacifica News and Democracy Nows, and other progressive holy cows) Her motherland a shameful mystery: guilty first, and void of history – its origins defiled, corrupted… while she enjoyed uninterrupted freedom to pursue her whims: misguided one-world global hymns. The sisterhood of hu(man) kind was foremost in her earnest mind – even should that same sisterhood be sealed by her well-meaning blood. Out on a date with global death she hoped to unify the earth in solidarity with causes led by killers, warlord bosses, thugs she never knew existed who, if she’d met she’d have resisted. Her theory landed far from her praxis spun, by default, on an evil axis. Hot with zeal she fumed and stormed quite certain she was well-informed, at benefits, non-profit functions rallies, boycotts, left-wing luncheons; warm with righteous spite for Israel, aiding and abetting Ishmael with fellow-travelers, like-minded similarly hateful, blinded, rattling sabers, scimitars, axes… (lunacy never wanes, but waxes hotter with the passing years as activists confront their fears). She finally shilled for the Intifada (stopping short of reciting Shahada), reaching out to the terrorist with righteous raised progressive fist… offering thus her neck to blade: collateral to be repaid by murderers who couldn’t care less about her open-mindedness.
Continue reading...
57
My 2 Cents “the advocacy of women’s rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men.” Let me start by mentioning that I don’t usually get involved with political matters, but in this case, I’d say it’s more of a basic human rights matter. I’m a man, and I’m a feminist. I was lucky enough to grow up in a home with three women; my mother and two older sisters. Growing up with them gave me an enormous amount of respect for women, (even though I may have lost a certain amount of socially expected masculinity along the way), and their current lives continue to increase my respect for the opposite gender. My oldest sister is leaving to study abroad at Oxford in less than a week to major in philosophy. Philosophy. She also graduated high school with a 4.0 and was involved in power lifting competitions and is enlisted in ROTC. Simply put, she’s an animal. She’s worked hard her entire life and I’d hate to see a world that put that hard work to waste. My other sister is working three jobs to pay her way through college and is planning to major in psychology. I’m always envious of her work ethic and level of commitment to not only her education, but to her friends and family as well. My mother has been my backbone since I was a child. She was always the one I turned to in times of trouble, and continues to be. She works hard everyday, while going through mentally straining marriage problems, and comes home and still asks me about my day. She has given me nothing but unconditional love for my entire existence. For these reasons, it boggles my mind why anyone would ever be anti-feminism. I am genuinely confused as to why, because their bodies are different, women get less privileges, respect, opportunities, and even money. I just don’t get it. I am also disgusted that women are seen by most men as walking ****** organs. l will admit genuine guilt to using the number scale to “rate” women. It’s something I grew up with, but now it sickens me. Assigning a number to a woman based on your misguided views on how she should look, whether you would **** her, is something I find repulsive. There’s nothing wrong with admiring the opposite *** but no one gives a **** about your stupid opinion, especially the woman. I hope someday if I ever have a daughter that she will have the privilege of living in a country of gender equality, tolerance, and open-mindedness. Anyway, I just wanted to put my two cents in. I am a man. I am a feminist. Peace.
0
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
My Two Cents
My 2 Cents “the advocacy of women’s rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men.” Let me start by mentioning that I don’t usually get involved with political matters, but in this case, I’d say it’s more of a basic human rights matter. I’m a man, and I’m a feminist. I was lucky enough to grow up in a home with three women; my mother and two older sisters. Growing up with them gave me an enormous amount of respect for women, (even though I may have lost a certain amount of socially expected masculinity along the way), and their current lives continue to increase my respect for the opposite gender. My oldest sister is leaving to study abroad at Oxford in less than a week to major in philosophy. Philosophy. She also graduated high school with a 4.0 and was involved in power lifting competitions and is enlisted in ROTC. Simply put, she’s an animal. She’s worked hard her entire life and I’d hate to see a world that put that hard work to waste. My other sister is working three jobs to pay her way through college and is planning to major in psychology. I’m always envious of her work ethic and level of commitment to not only her education, but to her friends and family as well. My mother has been my backbone since I was a child. She was always the one I turned to in times of trouble, and continues to be. She works hard everyday, while going through mentally straining marriage problems, and comes home and still asks me about my day. She has given me nothing but unconditional love for my entire existence. For these reasons, it boggles my mind why anyone would ever be anti-feminism. I am genuinely confused as to why, because their bodies are different, women get less privileges, respect, opportunities, and even money. I just don’t get it. I am also disgusted that women are seen by most men as walking ****** organs. l will admit genuine guilt to using the number scale to “rate” women. It’s something I grew up with, but now it sickens me. Assigning a number to a woman based on your misguided views on how she should look, whether you would **** her, is something I find repulsive. There’s nothing wrong with admiring the opposite *** but no one gives a **** about your stupid opinion, especially the woman. I hope someday if I ever have a daughter that she will have the privilege of living in a country of gender equality, tolerance, and open-mindedness. Anyway, I just wanted to put my two cents in. I am a man. I am a feminist. Peace.
Continue reading...
15
Though altercations of a secessionist sound stern, Their minds are stuck and never learn. Through a disabled rebellion their built, Words designed to deplete one's self are spilt. Although it's said consummation executes in the leaning vice of the secessionist, The desecration becomes the birth of the segregationist. The segregation of closed mindedness with those of the voice. The voice has sculpted our worlds obedience choice by choice. The voice has seen demons at their best and angels at their worst, There is a reason why this world hasn't burst. You see, our world is seen through a lens, This lens doesn't defy our worth and script the uncleansed. It simply sets a standard for the closed minded to follow, The voice, doesn't have a standard to follow, this voice makes the lens for those left to follow tomorrow. -Joseph B Schneider
0
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
The Voice
In the hour of my greatest need, When my rage has been spent, And my selfishness, Profanity, Lovelessness, Anger, Lying, Cheating, Lawlessness, Single mindedness, And my quest, in all the wrong ways, for love, Stands alone. When the darkness is my greatest achievement, Still, I AM FORGIVEN. I AM LOVED. This is senseless to me. It belies comprehension. It demands exploration. And after all, Remains senseless and incomprehensible Except for the words I hear As I lay wounded and trodden upon By my own sin, "Welcome home. Be at rest."
0
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
Welcome Home
Who is left that cares for what's precious and finds a way? is there an awareness that allows for love and caring to be expressed? what ego was more important? what winning or need to feel better was more important? funny how the need to rush away from the most important communications distort every communication always in a hurry to move away from only to never really completely have what is needed for the right communication impatient with this, in judgment of that, closing off all feelings after the next determination all that was missed because of this cell phone or this "appointment" who truly held no self created distraction? where nothing would have interfered with what should have been held in the highest respect for however long it took? what was more important than truth expressed and feelings shown? what deserved making what was precious not a priority? What will sit there as a stone unturned and a pain to ruminate because a mis-communication was digested as truth when it wasn't.   And love wasn't allowed the path to bloom and caring wasn't mutually expressed Funny how the only way I could ever express myself in full is to write a book because nobody involved ever really has the time, patience, open-mindedness and lack of ego and judgment to hear it without changing what it is--being taken away or held in possession of by another to shield what is complete in explaining so why not expose everything and be without judgment, fear, or the ticking clock why not make that the most important thing instead of the short fuse, the agenda that makes it unimportant, the hate that ends all communication Why not love and love with patience, caring, open-mindedness for wasn't there plenty of times where love was needed for you and it was given and given and given some more? Where is the love?   Where is the love that has infinite patience to hear and stay with friction until it no longer is?  Where is what is most PRECIOUS? But the prissy spoile friends say no, and the television personalities say no, and the opinions of others pre-determined yours, and the opinions you chose you are a prisoner of--but why is what is so precious in the overall scheme of things not the most important thing?
0
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 10:17 PM UTC
Precious
Who is left that cares for what's precious and finds a way? is there an awareness that allows for love and caring to be expressed? what ego was more important? what winning or need to feel better was more important? funny how the need to rush away from the most important communications distort every communication always in a hurry to move away from only to never really completely have what is needed for the right communication impatient with this, in judgment of that, closing off all feelings after the next determination all that was missed because of this cell phone or this "appointment" who truly held no self created distraction? where nothing would have interfered with what should have been held in the highest respect for however long it took? what was more important than truth expressed and feelings shown? what deserved making what was precious not a priority? What will sit there as a stone unturned and a pain to ruminate because a mis-communication was digested as truth when it wasn't.   And love wasn't allowed the path to bloom and caring wasn't mutually expressed Funny how the only way I could ever express myself in full is to write a book because nobody involved ever really has the time, patience, open-mindedness and lack of ego and judgment to hear it without changing what it is--being taken away or held in possession of by another to shield what is complete in explaining so why not expose everything and be without judgment, fear, or the ticking clock why not make that the most important thing instead of the short fuse, the agenda that makes it unimportant, the hate that ends all communication Why not love and love with patience, caring, open-mindedness for wasn't there plenty of times where love was needed for you and it was given and given and given some more? Where is the love?   Where is the love that has infinite patience to hear and stay with friction until it no longer is?  Where is what is most PRECIOUS? But the prissy spoile friends say no, and the television personalities say no, and the opinions of others pre-determined yours, and the opinions you chose you are a prisoner of--but why is what is so precious in the overall scheme of things not the most important thing?
Continue reading...
21
The old order changeth, yielding place to new -Tennyson, Idylls of the King Like dinosaurs our institutions gasp In spasms of existential death; they pass At first unnoticed by the casual unobserver Who trips over a covenant that isn’t there If you vote they give you a sticker The ephemeral Constitution changed Like sweaty skivvies by each president Law libraries catalogued for pulp By obedient functionaries in tees If you vote they give you a sticker The faithful escorted out of the cathedral By a bored security guard on overtime The altar linens for sale at Goodwill And the sanctuary repurposed on T.V. If you vote they give you a sticker Some of The Just Plain Folks cheer for the Reds And the others cheer only for the Blues As the reincarnation of Jack Chick Blesses their four-wheelers and plastic caps If you vote they give you a sticker Election placards on abandoned buildings Promise again prosperity for all The **** lab cooks behind The Kute Kidz Private Academy of the Dance and Math If you vote they give you a sticker An outreach of the Bright Light Free Will Missionary Temple of the Lord Jesus Christ Of the Lamb Sanctified 501C The Reverend Doctor Master Bishop Billy-Bob Hairdo PhD, DD a-brangin’ Messages and His Esteemed Lady Apostle Heather If you vote they give you a sticker And blessed be the Holy AR-15 God gave to His People to defend themselves Here in the freest country in the world Which you can find behind the barbed-wire fence If you vote they give you a sticker While fleets of luxury presidential jets Arc high over our public housing projects Reminding us of our prosperity Here in the richest country in the world If you vote they give you a sticker And them Jews for Jesus I guess they’re all right But them other Jews they just ain’t no good Nor them Cath’lics nor them Mormons neither And don’t you get me started on them Baptists (We seem to have been otherwise engaged) “The old order changeth, yielding place to new” – (But neither cares at all for me or you) But if you vote they give you a sticker
0
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 7:30 AM UTC
Election Day: Executive Inaction with Moderate Prejudice in Fits of Absent-Mindedness
The old order changeth, yielding place to new -Tennyson, Idylls of the King Like dinosaurs our institutions gasp In spasms of existential death; they pass At first unnoticed by the casual unobserver Who trips over a covenant that isn’t there If you vote they give you a sticker The ephemeral Constitution changed Like sweaty skivvies by each president Law libraries catalogued for pulp By obedient functionaries in tees If you vote they give you a sticker The faithful escorted out of the cathedral By a bored security guard on overtime The altar linens for sale at Goodwill And the sanctuary repurposed on T.V. If you vote they give you a sticker Some of The Just Plain Folks cheer for the Reds And the others cheer only for the Blues As the reincarnation of Jack Chick Blesses their four-wheelers and plastic caps If you vote they give you a sticker Election placards on abandoned buildings Promise again prosperity for all The **** lab cooks behind The Kute Kidz Private Academy of the Dance and Math If you vote they give you a sticker An outreach of the Bright Light Free Will Missionary Temple of the Lord Jesus Christ Of the Lamb Sanctified 501C The Reverend Doctor Master Bishop Billy-Bob Hairdo PhD, DD a-brangin’ Messages and His Esteemed Lady Apostle Heather If you vote they give you a sticker And blessed be the Holy AR-15 God gave to His People to defend themselves Here in the freest country in the world Which you can find behind the barbed-wire fence If you vote they give you a sticker While fleets of luxury presidential jets Arc high over our public housing projects Reminding us of our prosperity Here in the richest country in the world If you vote they give you a sticker And them Jews for Jesus I guess they’re all right But them other Jews they just ain’t no good Nor them Cath’lics nor them Mormons neither And don’t you get me started on them Baptists (We seem to have been otherwise engaged) “The old order changeth, yielding place to new” – (But neither cares at all for me or you) But if you vote they give you a sticker
Continue reading...
49
A simple army of ants in silent cooperation and unity, quickly work side-by-side - Setting an example for humanity. From Scriptural advice we're instructed to observe the behavior of these insects and see value from learning to serve. Achieving the colony's purpose and focusing on its common mission, labor is given for the greater good via its natural instinct of unison. For much can be accomplished from sharing like mindedness whenever the unified Body reaches... Towards Jehovah's divine holiness. Author Notes: Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
0
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 11:45 AM UTC
Poem: Standard of Cooperation
Thursday at lunch was the last time I seen her Questioning my absent-mindedness from the world Heart beat slowing with each breath I take My response was a simple request for lonesome As company angered me to a boiling point Relocation was followed by echoes of my name, fading with each step Then momentarily disturbed as I am approached for questioning once again What's wrong? Why are you being like this? Talk to me! But silence was all that could've been provided My intentions would only hurt me Though you wouldn't seem to care What's your purpose? Your questioning doesn't seem to serve a reason You only care when things reflect negatively on you And this looked as your fault Had people wondering where my mind had gone You ripped my heart from my chest, with no hesitation Leaving me as your slave And destroying me with bare hands So I don't see why you care What do I mean to you? You made me feel like less than a human being I didn't want to be here anymore I felt like there was nothing else here for me Smiling dissolved from my everyday life Appalling tendencies all pointed to me Even with hope in grasp, effort was something I didn't feel the need to give I wanted this to end Emotions covered me as if they were my own skin Agony, I'd call it The dynamics of pain could be expressed to in a lifetime But was dealt to me in less than 4 years of my young life Perpetual emotions wouldn't leave me to myself As memories haunted me throughout my depressed days As my nights grew longer and colder Loneliness became my only option
0
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 3:41 AM UTC
Cold Hearted
Thursday at lunch was the last time I seen her Questioning my absent-mindedness from the world Heart beat slowing with each breath I take My response was a simple request for lonesome As company angered me to a boiling point Relocation was followed by echoes of my name, fading with each step Then momentarily disturbed as I am approached for questioning once again What's wrong? Why are you being like this? Talk to me! But silence was all that could've been provided My intentions would only hurt me Though you wouldn't seem to care What's your purpose? Your questioning doesn't seem to serve a reason You only care when things reflect negatively on you And this looked as your fault Had people wondering where my mind had gone You ripped my heart from my chest, with no hesitation Leaving me as your slave And destroying me with bare hands So I don't see why you care What do I mean to you? You made me feel like less than a human being I didn't want to be here anymore I felt like there was nothing else here for me Smiling dissolved from my everyday life Appalling tendencies all pointed to me Even with hope in grasp, effort was something I didn't feel the need to give I wanted this to end Emotions covered me as if they were my own skin Agony, I'd call it The dynamics of pain could be expressed to in a lifetime But was dealt to me in less than 4 years of my young life Perpetual emotions wouldn't leave me to myself As memories haunted me throughout my depressed days As my nights grew longer and colder Loneliness became my only option
Continue reading...
36
~It's time to let everything go and get my mindset right Thoughts and confusion consistently put up a fight ~Overcoming the past and focusing on the present Life's obstacles make sure they leave their dent ~Strength and willpower will lead me through my quest It is only in the end everyone will see I'm doing my best ~The pride i'll possess from doing it all alone This will truly show the people I love how I've grown ~This path I'm on will never show what I'm truly capable of I don't want to look down on my family from the heavens above ~I don't want anyone to stand by me if they don't feel I am capable I'll just have to show them that I'm ready and able ~I need to show myself how much I love being in my own skin It's only then that I can tell myself ultimately I'm going to win ~The sickness in the end isn't worth the pain I want to be prepared for anything, shine or rain
0
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
Honesty, Open Mindedness and Willingness~
Oh, fuming teardrop! You’ve boiled over from wrath and anger, leaving painful blisters as you sear the heart Why you don’t evaporate is a wonder but there must be a valid reason… If only to let the heart know it lives Oh, fuming teardrop! Will you ever learn how to forgive? Oh, defiant teardrop! Teetering on the edge and glistening, refusing to fall to make yourself known It is not fickle mindedness playing, rather, a power play of emotions a blatant refusal to show what’s within Oh, defiant teardrop! Why even stop yourself before you begin? Oh, crocodile teardrop! If you were truly so, slink back shamefully, recede to your lacrimal gland and stay put There is no need for your insincerity, the world is chaotic as it is, too troubled Fall not, trickle not, trick not who see you Oh, crocodile teardrop! How can you be so heartless to fool people so true? Oh, pensive teardrop! How gracefully you streak down window sills Wash away grime and grit, cleanse everything Flow unhindered, purify hearts you fill Laughter may be the music of the soul, but you are pure— the distilled spirit Oh, pensive teardrop! Will you course down blackened hearts, pay a visit? Oh, jubilant teardrop! Married to laughter, frolic and dance to its tune Give birth to hope then soar with elation Brighten faces, sparkle days, light up the moon Let souls remember that you speak of pain, joy Let them remember, then allow them to heal Oh, jubilant teardrop! Why did I ever doubt that you are spirit revealed?
0
Aug 31, 2011
Aug 31, 2011 at 4:24 AM UTC
The Eloquence of a Tear
Oh, fuming teardrop! You’ve boiled over from wrath and anger, leaving painful blisters as you sear the heart Why you don’t evaporate is a wonder but there must be a valid reason… If only to let the heart know it lives Oh, fuming teardrop! Will you ever learn how to forgive? Oh, defiant teardrop! Teetering on the edge and glistening, refusing to fall to make yourself known It is not fickle mindedness playing, rather, a power play of emotions a blatant refusal to show what’s within Oh, defiant teardrop! Why even stop yourself before you begin? Oh, crocodile teardrop! If you were truly so, slink back shamefully, recede to your lacrimal gland and stay put There is no need for your insincerity, the world is chaotic as it is, too troubled Fall not, trickle not, trick not who see you Oh, crocodile teardrop! How can you be so heartless to fool people so true? Oh, pensive teardrop! How gracefully you streak down window sills Wash away grime and grit, cleanse everything Flow unhindered, purify hearts you fill Laughter may be the music of the soul, but you are pure— the distilled spirit Oh, pensive teardrop! Will you course down blackened hearts, pay a visit? Oh, jubilant teardrop! Married to laughter, frolic and dance to its tune Give birth to hope then soar with elation Brighten faces, sparkle days, light up the moon Let souls remember that you speak of pain, joy Let them remember, then allow them to heal Oh, jubilant teardrop! Why did I ever doubt that you are spirit revealed?
Continue reading...
40
Stuck in a straight jacket That detaches from humanities That disables civilized thinking It strangles your insides And steals compassion And your breath of life Withers inside this chasten In this rubber room Who’s pads make up your apathetical existence You rot here like the ***** you take You die here Unless you bleed yourself of disrespect Unless you bleed yourself of disinterest Unless you bleed yourself of narcissism Who cares Your worthless in this state anyway Find purpose in empathy Or die here Exist out of the minds of others Others who have collective respect Collective understanding Collective empathy And open mindedness You’re locked here cause you prejudge Guarded by your own stubbornness You don’t accept That you don’t know everyone’s story You can’t know You judge anyway That hippie over there He’s not a ***** loser He has a family he loves Worked hard in construction And overcame a destructive alcohol and drug abuse He’s better than you He’s empathetic Loving Understanding And embraces everyone
0
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 12:00 AM UTC
Rubber Room
we always have perception open mindedness an idea us humans created to feel as if theres some hope in becoming pure but theres no pure people if theres still earth beneath my feet to remind me of the dirt of our past and present and pupils differently sized to remind me of our future and blood that pulses off beat to trigger a genetic passover to remind me of the nature of it all that imperfection and mutation drive evolution that we are essentially ****** up
0
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
openminded
The world is too uncertain for us to be sure of anything. Personally I don't think there is an absolute truth. There I said it. Take me away Nietzsche, I'm with you on this one. We are all so different, all so set apart in our unique, frail and wicked mortality. To have one single frame of existence is debilitating. If this difference is so telling of our humanity then why the hell do we have truth? To what purpose? To contain and unite us despite our individuality? Suppose the truth is given this way: A newborn and a goat are expected to survive with just a small patch of grass. Which of the two gets more chance of survival and existential fulfillment? How can that be when those two are apples and oranges? Their circumstances are so opposite. How is life supposed to be fair to the newborn? I am not saying that life is fair because hell it is far from it. But do we accept that unfair principle or make our lives a little better?  Will his happiness be on that grass as well? Of course not. So he looks for new ways to be happy. He has his own truth. To this end, I have questioned everything from my faith, to myself, to people, to science even. Life grows along with time and so are our realities. This is why these past few months I've been contradicting myself to the point of thinking I've gone mad. But the fact is I've grown from these experiences of letting my two polar opposites meet. It is honestly scary when these inner voices start jabbing at you like pointed needles.I am a walking contradiction and my mind is a maze of paradoxes and questions with no answers. Eventually, I got used to this mentally exhausting activity. When something entirely different from what I believe be it an opinion, an idea, or a controversy) speaks up in my face I've learned to accept them not as the truth but as possibilities that could very well be right or wrong. I will never be always right. People are so used to the concept of certainty that we have altogether ignored the existence of possibility. Or the gray area to which simply no one end exists. I realized that we are all predisposed to find answers, to hang on to some sort of explanation to a world so phenomenally ungraspable. It is to the detriment of our open mindedness enough for us to fabricate truths which may very well be coverups for the all too universal fear of the unknown. We are afraid of floating in the ambiguous nature of our lives that we'd rather correct this with assumptions.
0
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 6:29 AM UTC
Rant # 003: Struggles of a Chronic Overthinker
The world is too uncertain for us to be sure of anything. Personally I don't think there is an absolute truth. There I said it. Take me away Nietzsche, I'm with you on this one. We are all so different, all so set apart in our unique, frail and wicked mortality. To have one single frame of existence is debilitating. If this difference is so telling of our humanity then why the hell do we have truth? To what purpose? To contain and unite us despite our individuality? Suppose the truth is given this way: A newborn and a goat are expected to survive with just a small patch of grass. Which of the two gets more chance of survival and existential fulfillment? How can that be when those two are apples and oranges? Their circumstances are so opposite. How is life supposed to be fair to the newborn? I am not saying that life is fair because hell it is far from it. But do we accept that unfair principle or make our lives a little better?  Will his happiness be on that grass as well? Of course not. So he looks for new ways to be happy. He has his own truth. To this end, I have questioned everything from my faith, to myself, to people, to science even. Life grows along with time and so are our realities. This is why these past few months I've been contradicting myself to the point of thinking I've gone mad. But the fact is I've grown from these experiences of letting my two polar opposites meet. It is honestly scary when these inner voices start jabbing at you like pointed needles.I am a walking contradiction and my mind is a maze of paradoxes and questions with no answers. Eventually, I got used to this mentally exhausting activity. When something entirely different from what I believe be it an opinion, an idea, or a controversy) speaks up in my face I've learned to accept them not as the truth but as possibilities that could very well be right or wrong. I will never be always right. People are so used to the concept of certainty that we have altogether ignored the existence of possibility. Or the gray area to which simply no one end exists. I realized that we are all predisposed to find answers, to hang on to some sort of explanation to a world so phenomenally ungraspable. It is to the detriment of our open mindedness enough for us to fabricate truths which may very well be coverups for the all too universal fear of the unknown. We are afraid of floating in the ambiguous nature of our lives that we'd rather correct this with assumptions.
Continue reading...
3
High-mindedness, a jealousy for good, A loving-kindness for the great man's fame, Dwells here and there with people of no name, In noisome alley, and in pathless wood: And where we think the truth least understood, Oft may be found a "singleness of aim," That ought to frighten into hooded shame A money-mongering, pitiable brood. How glorious this affection for the cause Of steadfast genius, toiling gallantly! What when a stout unbending champion awes Envy and malice to their native sty? Unnumbered souls breathe out a still applause, Proud to behold him in his country's eye.
0
2.6k
Addressed To Haydon
Clearly observing the wicked danger lurking within you… What a paradox to witness a change of benevolence ridiculed by your truth. If only you understood what it takes to genuinely smile, You could move mountains across those magnificent cerulean skies. Even after our unpleasant confrontations, so cruel and wry. You deliberately chose to dance around to a distinctive rhyme. Using your words of trickery, resembling a serpent hissing fear. You untiringly strived to strike fatal arrows through an artificial crack on my fortified shield. I gave you only one chance to earn my professional trust. Then you destroyed it with mendacities absconding from your Machiavellian filthy mouth. Candidly, after foreseeing your vile pestilence emerging from within. I erupted in an outburst of laughter to have ever believed in your skin of sin. Beware, you have revealed an irrevocable glitch that is deceitfully sly. It portrays tyranny and narrow mindedness, depreciating with every malicious try. Running cunningly through your veins oozing massive animosity in disguise. Have you not scrutinized the gruesome language intensely stimulated from your heinously gazing eyes? By: Michael M. De La Fuente
0
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 11:38 PM UTC
Envisaged Impression
Yesterday she genuinely smiled Something that lit the town bright The way her lips curved to the left Before the right reminded me Of the days she never knew you Tonight, believe it or not, but she laughed Her laugh could be heard from a mile It was so loud, Contagious, And it whispered the word "content" into the winds The kind you would hear after you kissed her lips Or at least when you used to press your lips upon hers And tomorrow you will see her glow with happiness The kind you see from a lonely child who finally felt love Beautiful, exquisite, pulchritudinous, just to name a few Those are the words that will come across your mind When you see her pass you by By then I will feel sorry for you Because she finally moved on She finally saw her true worth---her true beauty And I will look at you and feel sorry She overlooked your flaws, past, and mistakes. She forgave you for your stupidity countless times Accepted your selfishness and narrow mindedness She made sacrifices for you, MADE time for you when she had none, Adjusted her life to make things work for you To make things work with you All those things that you could not do for her. But now, you are nothing but a piece of her past, A memory that is constantly fading, An old flame that long disintegrated, A photograph that has fallen on the back of her desk, Or maybe you're all of that. No. You are all of that. And I feel sorry for you. So sorry that you lost an amazing person Someone who accepted every part of you, Was willing to put up with everything, Change her ways to make things work, Someone who didn't give up so easily, and Someone who would have never given up on you The way you did with her.
0
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC
Worth Reading
Yesterday she genuinely smiled Something that lit the town bright The way her lips curved to the left Before the right reminded me Of the days she never knew you Tonight, believe it or not, but she laughed Her laugh could be heard from a mile It was so loud, Contagious, And it whispered the word "content" into the winds The kind you would hear after you kissed her lips Or at least when you used to press your lips upon hers And tomorrow you will see her glow with happiness The kind you see from a lonely child who finally felt love Beautiful, exquisite, pulchritudinous, just to name a few Those are the words that will come across your mind When you see her pass you by By then I will feel sorry for you Because she finally moved on She finally saw her true worth---her true beauty And I will look at you and feel sorry She overlooked your flaws, past, and mistakes. She forgave you for your stupidity countless times Accepted your selfishness and narrow mindedness She made sacrifices for you, MADE time for you when she had none, Adjusted her life to make things work for you To make things work with you All those things that you could not do for her. But now, you are nothing but a piece of her past, A memory that is constantly fading, An old flame that long disintegrated, A photograph that has fallen on the back of her desk, Or maybe you're all of that. No. You are all of that. And I feel sorry for you. So sorry that you lost an amazing person Someone who accepted every part of you, Was willing to put up with everything, Change her ways to make things work, Someone who didn't give up so easily, and Someone who would have never given up on you The way you did with her.
Continue reading...
43
A face that envisages the intensity within The purity of his soul is visible in those eyes. His words are a reflection of his honest heart And his silence says everything he wants to hide. When he wields the willow, he becomes a warrior Desperate to give his last ounce for his nation. He resists all temptation with ****** mindedness And fights the enemy hard, to protect his team’s bastion. His passion never lets satisfaction reach his soul. He’s as harsh on himself as he’s on the opposition Nothing annoys him more than his own failure The past struggles have only elevated his ambition. He’s an epitome of innocence and simplicity But don’t get fooled by his diminutive looks. For there’s a reservoir of fire inside his head Which explodes when he’s provoked by crooks. He bats for India wearing his tri-coloured gloves Like his 1 billion compatriots are holding his hands. Their love strengthens his grip, empowers his bat And runs flow in abundance as like a rock he stands! He’s a special cricketer, selfless, gritty and gifted. But what he is on the field is not really his best part. The person within is more precious, like a rare gem. Beneath that stern and strong face, there’s a lovely heart.
0
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 11:32 PM UTC
A deadly little cherub!
The flesh lusts daily against the Spirit and the Spirit wars contrary to the flesh. The opposing tenets of grace and iniquity can never with each other… completely mesh. For the redeemed sinners operate by grace, while the practitioners of unrighteousness prefer the dark, ungodly ways of wickedness and will not inherit the Kingdom’s fullness. Fleshly works are clearly evident: adultery, fornication, idolatry, sorcery, uncleanness, contentions, jealousies, ****** immorality, hatred, envy, revelries and evil-mindedness. Fruits of the sinful flesh are plain to see and spirits cringe- at their being mentioned. Can we expect others to pursue God’s holiness, when people are upset- from being questioned? For we live under God’s grace and not His Law; His righteous wrath will be eventually revealed. Acceptance of His gift of Salvation can insure… that our lives will have been redeemed and sealed! . . . Author Notes: Loosely based on: Gal 5:16; Rom 1:18-32, 2:1-16 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
0
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
Poem: Pursuit of Holiness
Gifted Gifted means nothing to people who do not know I don’t even know the proper definition Strange that I do not know a part of myself? I think not. C’est la vie – such is life But why must only a few be burdened with this white elephant? Yes, a white elephant For although termed a gift, it comes with its own price On my school’s website, on the gifted page, there is a file This file, entitled, giftedness; a different kind of normal Aptly named I think The upsides? Exactly me. The downsides? All perfectly describe me as well My ‘gifted’ friends are just the same Why is this a gift if it sets us back in our standardized culture? Sure, I ace the tests, but I can’t start projects until last minute All because of my perfectionist side I am a ‘deep thinker’ But I hate deadlines because they limit the Time I spend on a good, fascinating subject I’m considered to have the ability to motivate people But it always comes out bossy I'm supposed to have high standards and expectations(which I do) But these fail me when I cannot reach them myself Causing insecurity These traits and numerous others all belong to my kind, the 'gifted' kids I've noticed we're all socially inept, awkward, clumsy To some degree or another And I suppose this analytically mindedness comes along with my plethora of troubles I'm supposed to have many interests, and this is true But it also prevents me from knowing exactly what I want I'm supposed to be very focused, detail oriented But I cannot stand the slightest disturbance These gifts are deemed part of the 'gifted' personality Why can't I be normal for a change? Being gifted really singles you out Such a small group of us in my school Almost all are best friends As no one can understand us better than others just like ourselves But why can't everyone be gifted?
0
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 7:16 PM UTC
gifted
Gifted Gifted means nothing to people who do not know I don’t even know the proper definition Strange that I do not know a part of myself? I think not. C’est la vie – such is life But why must only a few be burdened with this white elephant? Yes, a white elephant For although termed a gift, it comes with its own price On my school’s website, on the gifted page, there is a file This file, entitled, giftedness; a different kind of normal Aptly named I think The upsides? Exactly me. The downsides? All perfectly describe me as well My ‘gifted’ friends are just the same Why is this a gift if it sets us back in our standardized culture? Sure, I ace the tests, but I can’t start projects until last minute All because of my perfectionist side I am a ‘deep thinker’ But I hate deadlines because they limit the Time I spend on a good, fascinating subject I’m considered to have the ability to motivate people But it always comes out bossy I'm supposed to have high standards and expectations(which I do) But these fail me when I cannot reach them myself Causing insecurity These traits and numerous others all belong to my kind, the 'gifted' kids I've noticed we're all socially inept, awkward, clumsy To some degree or another And I suppose this analytically mindedness comes along with my plethora of troubles I'm supposed to have many interests, and this is true But it also prevents me from knowing exactly what I want I'm supposed to be very focused, detail oriented But I cannot stand the slightest disturbance These gifts are deemed part of the 'gifted' personality Why can't I be normal for a change? Being gifted really singles you out Such a small group of us in my school Almost all are best friends As no one can understand us better than others just like ourselves But why can't everyone be gifted?
Continue reading...
41
Living by ideology must be comforting. The freedom of constraint, the security of single-mindedness. It gives one a sense of position; rooted Behind battle-lines, clear division. I always thought Marxists naive, But not in the way you might think - I was impressed by the notion that the ruling classes Knew what they were doing. Subjugation is at least part of a plan. Humanism simply baffles me: One might as well believe in The primacy and potential of pigshit. Even nihilism is ideology; its comforting Sense of community: "We believe in one Nothing." Ideological blinkers preserve order By blocking out the surrounding chaos. Perhaps I should find something to cling to Before the rising tide sweeps me away. (Not poetry. I've tried that; Too unstable.)
0
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 10:21 AM UTC
Ideology
I crave achievement, but my body aches from failure. From constant wounds to my frail skin, courage is beyond reach. It is elusive, distant, away from my ***** hands. I want to fulfill my ambitions, but my mind wavers from success. From procrastination and the dark holes of depression, my conquest of dreams is fruitless. It is shameful, humiliating, disappointing to my household. I wish to express boundless love to the world, but my small mindedness has failed to grow beyond ignorance. From lack of effort and unapparent care, I am a disgrace to my well wishers. It is sad, dismal, sorry to see such a being alive.
0
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 10:03 PM UTC
My Body Aches From Failure
but we’re only human. when it comes into something you’re truly passionate it’s even easier to make a snap judgement. if it were me however I would have never made it this far I never bothered going in for a closer inspection. That’s right, in my own flawed and jaded ” been there, done that” mindset As it turns out, very. I’ll be the first to admit that while I consider myself to have a rather smiley pallet open mindedness can occasionally be on short reverse. Fortunately fate would give me another chance to get up close this faith and after the recommendation from a friend I did a little web minning. The more I discovered about the faith the further my foot traveled into my mouth. When I finally finished off my last slice of humble pancake I realized that the only acceptable way to right my wrong would be head to the place were its all start. When I first saw the faith it was still shocking, how shinny it was and still. Even with my ‘vast knowledge’ of all things people I thought it was surely a cover. But that’s just another item we can add to the “thing I was wrong about” list. The advantages of this process compared to conventional talking are vast primarily the ability to talking virtually anything. but as easy as it is to get carried away by the impressive exterior of fake smile there’s more to it. if you’ll pardon my ridiculous pun but it has been given a kick in the pants. Speaking of driving hard, that’s exactly what the ‘cranky’ guy doing with his car everyday since he just 9 years old. There’s nothing I like more than a car ok, I also put on cakes and cat into the list. But what’s the point. that was me not you or anybody else. I must say it’s been a while since I misjudged people so badly but certainly there is a lesson to be learned, no? What I thought to be a run-for-the-cover behavior is really anything but and my first impression has now been well and truly erased. it’s not some untalkable harebrained concept and its not sitting around in a warehouse collecting dust. it’s doing exactly what a guy should be - it’s being driven its way.
0
Jul 13, 2012
Jul 13, 2012 at 10:36 PM UTC
As a child we are told to never judge a book by its cover
but we’re only human. when it comes into something you’re truly passionate it’s even easier to make a snap judgement. if it were me however I would have never made it this far I never bothered going in for a closer inspection. That’s right, in my own flawed and jaded ” been there, done that” mindset As it turns out, very. I’ll be the first to admit that while I consider myself to have a rather smiley pallet open mindedness can occasionally be on short reverse. Fortunately fate would give me another chance to get up close this faith and after the recommendation from a friend I did a little web minning. The more I discovered about the faith the further my foot traveled into my mouth. When I finally finished off my last slice of humble pancake I realized that the only acceptable way to right my wrong would be head to the place were its all start. When I first saw the faith it was still shocking, how shinny it was and still. Even with my ‘vast knowledge’ of all things people I thought it was surely a cover. But that’s just another item we can add to the “thing I was wrong about” list. The advantages of this process compared to conventional talking are vast primarily the ability to talking virtually anything. but as easy as it is to get carried away by the impressive exterior of fake smile there’s more to it. if you’ll pardon my ridiculous pun but it has been given a kick in the pants. Speaking of driving hard, that’s exactly what the ‘cranky’ guy doing with his car everyday since he just 9 years old. There’s nothing I like more than a car ok, I also put on cakes and cat into the list. But what’s the point. that was me not you or anybody else. I must say it’s been a while since I misjudged people so badly but certainly there is a lesson to be learned, no? What I thought to be a run-for-the-cover behavior is really anything but and my first impression has now been well and truly erased. it’s not some untalkable harebrained concept and its not sitting around in a warehouse collecting dust. it’s doing exactly what a guy should be - it’s being driven its way.
Continue reading...
39