"mocked" poems
Someday you’ll love you.
From the sparkle in your eye,
To the pitch of your laugh,
Even the color of your hair.
You will love every part,
From every wrinkle,
To every crinkle,
Every part of you.
But they will try to tear you down,
To make you frown,
To make you think you’re not worth it.
But darling you listen to me.
From the way you walk,
To the way you talk,
You will be mocked,
But don’t you listen.
From your weight,
To your height,
You are all wonderful to me.
Maybe one day you’ll see,
The beauty I see.
The way you were made,
So beautifully.
But until then,
Do not forget,
On how true beauty,
Comes from within.
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 1:20 PM UTC
Try not to think about it
Shove it down ....way down
Don't show it
Its bubbling up, it wants to escape
I don't know how long I can hold it
I'm not that strong
I want control over it
But it consumes me
I am it
And it is me
I wasn't always this way with it
I never would shove it down
Until one day I was mocked for showing it
I was told I was weak
Because everyone has it ... and they can control it
Its all in your head , your a cry baby
I believed it
Why couldn't I control it ?
Next time I'll try my best
But I feel it again....its about to escape
I can't let it
I try shoving it down ....way down
But that doesn't stop it
Now its flowing out of me like water
I need to stop it
I run to my room , lock the door,shut off my phone
So no one can see it
I look in the mirror
Puffy face and bloodshot eyes are the result of it
I sit in front of my fan
The cool air dries it
I sit until all the evidence is gone
Until I can walk out of my room and deny it
I have to ... I'm not a cry baby
I can do this
I am it
And it is me
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 1:09 PM UTC
I was relaxed, and deep in thought
The type of talk that silence brought
When just in earshot it rocked,
tick tock
tick tock
"Must be a clock"
I told myself and resumed my thought
Though as the seconds passed I could not,
Despite the will with which I fought
Do to its incessant knock
Tick tock
Tick tock
I searched for the clock
Unable to find the train I sought
I grew more and more distraught
With each and every tick and tock
That find the clock, I could not
As the silence grew more fraught
With the knock,
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
I knew the pain of Lancelot
On and on it ticked and tocked
I cursed at the unseen dreadnought
It no longer merely mocked
But each and every tick and tock
Became an unseen onslaught
TICK TOCK
TICK TOCK
T'was 11 o'clock,
When my heart felt the gunshot
Though the shots I could not block
And on and on the bullets poured
Further into the fray I bored
Each foot a cinderblock
Weighed by war
I slowly walked
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
How I'd make it answer for
Alas
With little blood left to speak for Desperately I implored
"Restrain your hands that caused such gore;
We need not fight evermore!"
But when I heard the ceaseless knock
Tick tock
Tick tock
I new my words had been ignored
And slowly collapsed to the floor
****** and bludgeoned when I hit bed rock, I had still found no clock
But tick and tock it had forgot
The church bell rang t'was 12 o'clock,
Though mortal wounds the seconds wrought
I no longer was distraught
And as I lay in the hemlock
It occurred in my last thoughts
I would miss the beating knock
tick..., tock...
tick..., tock...
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 9:04 PM UTC
Borderline Personality Disorder.
1. The other day I woke up and thought I knew who I was
I fell asleep and somewhere in between I lost myself
I lost the feeling in my stomach too
but we're still talking about how much we have in common.
2. My sweater got stuck on the hanger this morning
I started to rip it down
eventually I broke plastic and skin.
I haven't been back in my room since.
3. 12:06 PM Today my best friend came home and took most of our makeup
12:07 PM I messaged her and mocked our friendship.
12:07 PM She was in trouble with her grandma and had to hurry. She didn't know.
12:08 PM I broke down crying.
4. I woke up at 7:32 AM and took 4 shots
drank 2 beers
smoked four bowls
drank half a bottle of NyQuil and woke up the next day.
I have yet to figure out why.
5. I wanted to be a horse trainer for 9 years
then I decided I wanted to be an artist
worked on becoming a tattoo artist
matured into a writer
fell in love with photography
now I'm not even sure if I like school.
6. First scars appeared at 9
worst scars at 15.
First attempt at 10
almost wasn't an attempt at 14.
7. I've been happy the past few days
but I still want to **** myself
because soon I'll be drowning in depression
and succumbing to anxiety.
9. Once I got so bored
I thought myself into sorrow.
I didn't come out for a few hours
but by dinner I was laughing.
10. I used to be in love with a boy
but I didn't know
so I used whatever I could get
and now I'm alone.
I don't blame him.
11. I've mentally lost myself
as I screamed into the mirror
and it wasn't me talking to myself.
I don't really remember being there
but I was.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 5:50 AM UTC
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
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 4:45 PM UTC
I am not at fault.
I didn't do anything wrong.
Why am I being treated as though I did?
Stop it with the pity and the shame.
I am not ashamed. I don't need pity.
Especially not yours.
Life is messed up, but I am not.
One in five. one in five. ONE IN FIVE
One in five LGBTQ+ people have been mistreated because of their ****** orientation. It's not that hard to find these statistics. Look it up. Look up anything about LGBTQ+ people and I'm sure you'll find mistreatment.
I'm sure you'll find harm.
I'm sure you'll find that they harm themselves.
Because they feel at fault.
It's not their fault that they feel a common emotion towards another person you, selfish, close-minded..
mmm.
No.
Four in five. four in five. FOUR IN FIVE
Don't talk about it.
The way they were mistreated.
If you don't really get that
If you can't really fathom that
Almost all of them
Almost every single one of these people that have been mistreated don't even talk about it they don't reach out they don't tell
anyone
NEARLY HALF
of LGBTQ+ people in school are bullied
Are mistreated
Are hurt
Are mocked
Are called names
***
******
***
In school.
Yeah, bullying happens all the time over stupid **** All the time. Wearing glasses, looking different, being gay.
I get it.
It happens.
Whatever.
Nearly half.
"72 countries criminalise same-sex relationships ...
The death penalty is either ‘allowed’, or evidence of its existence occurs, in 8 countries
In more than half the world, LGBT people may not be protected from discrimination by workplace law
Most governments deny trans people the right to legally change their name and gender from those that were assigned to them at birth
Between 2008 and 2014, there were 1,612 trans people were murdered across 62 countries - equivalent to a killing every two days
A quarter of the world’s population believes that being LGBT should be a crime"
Oh hey, just some statistics. Isn't that interesting. Isn't it cool to take a step back and check that out. That's pretty crazy huh? Pretty outrageous. But, you know, maybe if you weren't such a
***
I did nothing
wrong.
I tried to stop it.
I tried.
But how can you stop
Doing
What
Is
Natural.
People are hurting
People are dying
People are being killed
People are killing themselves
Stop it with the pity and the shame.
We are not to blame.
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 2:06 PM UTC
She had a needle ***** pin for his dream balloon
He laughed at her faith
Mocked it
Loathed it for what he perceived
It had done to him
Long before she ever came around
This was something that she never knew
But what she did know was enough
She had a Mason jar for his unearned tears
She kept a wooden box full of nails
To hold up the boards
That blocked the sun
And kept the birds out
He wanted to jump off a mountain cliff
To feel free in the fall
To prove her wrong
She had a cat of nine tails and a whiplash smile
When he asked her to dance she said it wasn't her style
Sep 14, 2010
Sep 14, 2010 at 7:03 AM UTC
There is a man who loves me
I didn't know him
But still, he loves me
I pushed him away from me
But he's still here and he loves me
I didn't even believe what he's saying
But he encourages me and he loves me
I mocked him and judged him
But he looks at me with love for he does
I didn't listen him and wandered off
But he's still guiding me because he loves me
I didn't talk to him and I ignored him
But he's still waiting for me because he loves me
I lied, I cursed, I got angry, I sinned
Despite all that, he loves me still
I turned my back against him
But he still got my back because he loves me
I'm selfish, hot-tempered, proud and stubborn
But he still cares for me because he loves me
I ignored him, ignored him and ignored him
But he's always there for me because he loves me
So I asked...
*Who is this man who loves me?
Who is this man who loves me inspite of and despite?
Who is this man who loves me still?*
And I got a reply...
*He is the man who died for love
The man who lived to die for you
The man who died for his love for you.*
Then he asked me back...
Where else can you get a love like this?
You aren't worthy of his love, but he still gave it to you.
Isn't he worthy enough to be loved back?
Won't you love him back?
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Romans 5:8
But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
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Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 7:20 PM UTC
Oh Helena, how I doth know thy pain
Mocked is thine love when at love's feet thrown
Love hath looked upon thee with disdain
And yet still for him thy love hath grown
Do not despair Cupid's arrow at thine door does knock!
Upon thee, loves eyes an awakening will be placed
No longer can love's spiteful eyes see thee and mock!
And to thine love will he quickly rush in haste
But first know before one is to have thy way
A comedy must first be struck upon
Alas Puck! Disaster hath struck and a game we must all play
Before order is once more restored and the past foregone
Oh no! Now a love thrown upon thee unwanted
Mockery suspected, no more of this dost thou deserve
Evermore another feeling given to thee daunted
But now sit back, let the story unfurl and observe!
Finally soft words to thee spoken so craved
At once entranced but then felt thee a fool!
From nowhere sweet words so spoken must be depraved!
And in thine heart feeling loves sting ever so cruel
Now thy dearest friend! Intertwined within such a conspiracy
Such betrayal! Dear girl know it is a mistake
Albeit twisted and buried in the cruelest irony
Thy dearest friend, thine love she does not wish to shake
Through troubles and trials thou maketh thy way to a beautiful field
Fast asleep next to the love thy value ever so
Puck, fix thy mistake, give Helena her love to finally wield
And at last house a mutual love to forever grow
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 11:16 PM UTC
Shouting for longevity,
Slamming at the counterers…
- upon your dignified respite!
Would-be detractors without brevity,
Before the wine-dark Sea at night…
A pleading to philosophy of commonly renowned,
Beating sand and posturing, uncouth before a crown;
“Priam please!”
Sun and Moon,
two sons shall plead,
nay, -beg in tandem with the man;
“He serves the seas, trust him please, our father; this priest of Trojan-land!”
Laocoon
“Fear the Greeks, of mind I speak, approval by a van-i-ty; it surely is a death you seek!
An asp this horse, gift no more and tragedy in due remorse,
I beg of you my call to heed, wooden-burnt this crispy steed,
…alight in flame, glorified name; Poseidon shall endorse!”
Priests of Apollo
“Ridiculous! Worship we must, now bring it to the City thus!”
Laocoon
“The actions of accursed Kore,
Need I remind you all Paris caused this war?
For he mocked this god, the abyss it knows, with terror comes a deadly tide,
**** that fool and his fiddling pride!*
Burn this beast we must with haste for Greeks they have a certain taste,
Their acts meant always to confound, wily, since they were unbound.
What harm may do, to rest at shore? Consult the stars of yester-yore.
Assign no chore, one heaven’s night, plus a day, to sit upon our princely shore?”
Setting
(read/spoken at the fastest pace the reader can go)
A horrid hiss above the wave as two doth slither from out the cave…
The creatures from the darkest days, ancient spectacle for the knaves, bear witness to the punishment, commanded by a great trident, hearing screams of bannermen, for King and council a shocking twist, serpents ****** from out the mists, encircling priest and his kin, the howling they had done no sin, never be forgot-ten, as Typhon cried out merrily, serpents and the tragic sea; swallowed up all the three.
Priam
“Farewell dear Laocoon and two sons with thee!” *
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 4:13 PM UTC
Three weeks gone and the combatants gone
returning over the nightmare ground
we found the place again, and found
the soldier sprawling in the sun.
The frowning barrel of his gun
overshadowing. As we came on
that day, he hit my tank with one
like the entry of a demon.
Look. Here in the gunpit spoil
the dishonoured picture of his girl
who has put: Steffi. Vergissmeinnicht.
in a copybook gothic script.
We see him almost with content,
abased, and seeming to have paid
and mocked at by his own equipment
that's hard and good when he's decayed.
But she would weep to see today
how on his skin the swart flies move;
the dust upon the paper eye
and the burst stomach like a cave.
For here the lover and killer are mingled
who had one body and one heart.
And death who had the soldier singled
has done the lover mortal hurt.
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Oh grace, oh that grace.
I am a sinner, He is my Savior.
I should die but He took my place.
I was saved, He was tortured.
Oh grace, oh that grace.
Oh grace, oh that grace.
Bruised and broken,
tears and blood on His face,
He suffered all the pain.
Oh grace, oh that grace.
Oh grace, oh that grace.
The King of kings was hung and nailed
on that cross, for my case
my Holy God was mocked and jeered
Oh grace, oh that grace.
Oh grace, oh that grace.
I once was lost,
followed my own ways.
and now I am found
Oh grace, oh that grace.
Oh grace, oh that grace.
I don't deserve all of these
The love, the joy,
and the forgiveness,
All He did and all He went through.
It was grace.
Oh my saving grace, oh that amazing grace.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 9:58 AM UTC
'tis a sad sad
tale of woe
of which I sing
of gods and godesses
and their lessening
how forlorn
the goddess Ceres
once loved by all
and wooed by many
when unprovoked
and unforeseen
a war was wrought
'gainst fair queen
caught unawares
her throne assailed
her forces scattered
'twas all unfair
cast down she was
from lofty throne
no longer crowned
no more beloved
pierced thru
with many thorns
belittled
and besmirched
her reputation
and now her station
lost far beyond
re-incarnation
silently
she slips away
lost
and near forgotten
wounded
and rarely seen
her sullen thoughts
of malice reign
shamed and bleeding
plotting her revenge
till time and chance
provide the proper
circumstance
then all the thorns
that pierced her thru
she shook as many blades
and hurled
those bitter barbs as one
'gainst Hades' mighty gates
shaken he
from his dark slumber
his rallied forces
armed in numbers
their banners raised
on solar breezes
as trumpets blare
thru breathless reaches
voices shout
in protestation
slide rules locked
in astrometric
calculations
oh see how Ceres
scorned and mocked
has wrought
her rotting vengeance
on Pluto's frozen rocks
"Oh woe to thee
my Persephone
flee thee now
to thy father's house
for thy husband's hearth
hath been broken
and Hades' home
now just a token
My lofty edifice
a shattered wrack
an' all that's left
'tis a humble
wretched shack"
Pic Poem
https://www.pix-star.com/media/cache_local/download/23fc881b88e812947b061094f5694d32/JPlutoThouHastFallen-e52.jpg
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Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
Telling the story of passion, death, and virtue.
Tracking deception with freedom's lies.
The Traveler passed through that timeless veil
between here and there,
the spaces
between the fantastic delusional minds.
That a hunter has when tracking
down an accomplished plan.
Caught in a Blue Galactic Storm.
The Unicorn said.
*"Mind your own business the rest of us don't give a ****
Yet just as the wheels of the stars keep on turning--
on the heels of a planet surfing the Universes tides.
There will always be cycles-
and sometimes it happens
that they collide-such is the power of the Muse.
My story is one of tragedy and despair,
with malice and Discord, Regret and Guilty Shame.
Swallowed by the darkness empty and Dead.
Yet out of nothing sprang Life--
fear to Hope Hate to Love, Recklessness to Responsibility,
now I'm changing the tide.
With arrows sharp words that fill the Night sky.
Once again finding the Magic in these threads-weaving a world I've known and dread. Always mocked by the Queen of Hearts, hunting, desiring;
"Metamorphosis"
But Truth and Memory found the way.
A ghost shell that’s crossed the Styx of the Grave,
The Muse inside no longer be spelled drifting now to unsure shores,
Just as Dante mapped out Hell, so will I my tale:
Psyche (Human Soul) captive
to the Ice of Pluto-shed no tears.
This prison made flesh by mortal
woe-lost, forgotten,
But Morpheus came to me then.
"You still have your Dreams."
Then the madness came looming.
The facts blurred and suddenly Phoebe appeared:
with a playful far off expression.
"Oh Persephone, mourn the falling leaves, for it is the last of them you will see.”
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 2:23 PM UTC
I am a person of colour
Whose simple presence can cause outrage
they use their tongues as swords
and slay me with slurs
Whilst there are others who pretend to be my ally
but I can see their disgust in their eyes
their uneasiness in their smile
I am a person of colour
Whose beautiful traditional garments are cherry-picked
and woven into a disgusting replica
brandished on “Designer labels”
and mocked as exotic
I am a person of colour
Whose skin is secretly envied by them
they exhaust their expenses on tanning salons
and “bronzing” creams
Yet simultaneously they spit on my “darkness”
and promote their products with the so-called beauty of “lightness”
I am a person of colour
I shall not hide my anger at their ignorance
I shall wear my skin with pride
Because being a person of colour
No matter what I do or how I conform
They will never be satisfied
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
I like my body
And I use it to express myself
Which is legitimate and fine
Because it is mine
It belongs to me
So when you,
Who I trust
Respect
And confide in
Condemn me for
the choices that I make
I feel like my walls are caving in
Like there's not a mind left on this planet
who understands, who loves, who cares
If I can't come to you
I am alone
You abandoned me
Made my skin feel cold
Left me out
Used my confessions to hurt me
Abuse me
Minimize me
You made me feel stupid
Small
Incapable
You mocked my self respect
Tore it out from under me and distorted it
Tried to convince me I didn't own it
I never thought I'd find so much hate
Hidden inside of someone I loved so deeply
You have no idea the pain you've caused
When you decided to
tell me how to live
As if I'm too ******* pathetic
To know on my own
You think you're better than me
You think I should hate myself
Well I don't
But I do hate you
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 3:20 PM UTC
Happy as something unimportant
and free as a thing unimportant.
As something no one prizes
and which does not prize itself.
As something mocked by all
and which mocks at their mockery.
As laughter without serious reason.
As a yell able to out yell itself.
Happy as no matter what,
as any no matter what.
Happy
as a dog’s tail.
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“I want!”
Begged my heart,
As it strained against its chain,
My brain screamed
“You shunt!
“I won’t let you hurt again.”
My heart cried,
“Why not?”
And “Where is your pride?”
My brain mocked.
“You’re built to bleed, and not to think.”
My brain convicted,
“Like you where built to lead, but not to link.”
My heart contradicted.
“Love is for fools and fools alone.”
My brain predicted.
“Well then a fool I am for love of fond I’ve grown.”
My heart conflicted.
“You are nothing without me.”
My brain told,
“I beat without you, as you can see.”
My heart said growing bold,
There was a silence,
Between the muscle and the head,
My heart needed guidance,
And without my heart my brain would be dead.
“You know I wish to protect you.”
My brain whispered now,
“But I must reject what you do.”
My brains authority my heart could not allow,
“I am not so callous that I do not care at all.”
My brain explained,
“I understand that on my decisions it’s your function to implore.”
My heart disdained.
“So you can see now why I hold you back?”
My brain feebly asked,
“You are the reason freedom to love I lack!”
My heart finally did at the notion grasp.
Contemplative silence filled the air,
Until my brain did declare,
“If that’s what you want, then go now and don’t dare cry,
But don’t come back bleeding and broken,
And say I did not try”
And so my Brain had spoken.
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 6:07 AM UTC
alone .
strong, wise, driven, loyal.
He has lived and loved,
and chosen to be alone until something better comes along.
something more than physical love.
He found what he was looking for.
Her soul was vibrant and beautiful;
a goddess muse.
She kissed him and knew it not;
her naked words and firm young flesh excited him ...
his wealth of wisdom and experience mocked him for falling in love with a soul ... a forbidden one at that.
The old man had a need to feed,
she was a hungry young goddess needing to be fed.
Where is her champion? Who cares for this young sprite? Who dries her tears and comforts her throughout the night?
He reminded himself again that it was only her soul,
but still, he touched himself... saying her name to make it a little more real, "Candace," he whispered.
Then he listened ... just in case.
Just in case she whispered back.
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 7:03 PM UTC
You know who you are
Bruised Peaches
Those hit, hidden
Shamed
Belittled and bitten
By the very people we loved most
Mocked
For staying with the bearers of our
Bruises
We warrior spouses
Some of the peaches are lucky
we rolled from the pain baskets
Others have to stay for seedlings
This particular peach
After years of bruises
Nearly got squished between the fingers
of a bruise bearer
And I'm bitter mush
But I'm still whole
And all the while
He whispered,
I love you, I love you little peach
He gave me a seedling
She grew
and with her
My knowledge grew
It took the kingsmens axe
To cut me from that dead tree
But thank God
This peach, is free
~A
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 8:16 AM UTC
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert… Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!’
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
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You view the world from your prison's lone window
not knowing that your cell is unlocked.
You spend all your days collecting those rays
not caring how often you're mocked.
You waste all your hours counting the flowers
waiting for the clock's final tock.
If only you knew how you're like a shrew
you could easily come out of that box.
Apr 4, 2012
Apr 4, 2012 at 1:29 PM UTC