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"naivity" poems
Paved thoughts They lay In naivity Youth Born into homogeny Told "Different is beautiful" But taught To fall in line With the swaying ways Society's norms form Pin-up billboard smiles Flash magazine swagger On surgeon made bodies Guide retinas of wide eyed Youth To mirrors With disgust "Different is beautiful" We'll say Yielding our whitened smiles "Different is beautiful"
0
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 11:28 PM UTC
"Different is beautiful"
Cast all aside burn it and **** Dancing in the running reds of massacre. Waiting for any semblance of humanity, Burn it all rip it out and let nothing taint. bring destruction like a demonic saint. Feel the flow of senseless promise, casting naivity into uncensored solace. Bleed your prayers onto every altar. Watch it discolour every drop of water. Set your eyes on every ounce of pain, bring it in and nestle it tightley, then unleash it in fury divine, to burn and destroy all that was once mine.
0
Jun 26, 2011
Jun 26, 2011 at 3:00 PM UTC
I Bring Fire!
At a time when life was precious she came in unannounced she brought in lots of baggage and layed it on my couch. Her innocence was perfect her naivity was bliss she only needed love from all complications she did miss. This child was so entangled from the start of life and on some would pull from left and right and others far beyond... but her smile would still march on. Looking for stability the years poured quickly by and soon her heart felt sadness and her eyes learned how to cry... but her smile still never died. A few more cuts and bruises the rain came pouring down her soul now soaked in others' hate no truthfulness around... but she still refused to frown. and still more time, and still more pain... her eyesight growing dim the crowd now cries with false-lit love "my sweet Tabi, how can she sin?" (and that smile...where has it been?)
0
Dec 23, 2010
Dec 23, 2010 at 6:12 PM UTC
Sweet Tabi.
Ugly and disappointing colors are what they're revealing It's a challenge not to fall victim to the deceptive deceiving This world in which all are tirelessly scheming Corrupt messages intended to disillusion our modes of sensory The laws of this dishonesty are rarely discriminant The unlimited reach of the effects are constantly consistent Putting current views and outlooks in legitimate jeopardy Originality is one thing they've made a hobby of stealing Dark, ***** secrets require intelligent attempts at concealing This society in which all are tirelessly scheming Naivity is an automatic assumption of all that is innocent You can witness their successes expending minimal energy The fraud is hazardous; failure is certainly imminent One would desire that outcome sooner than later, as it leaves recipients feeling elderly With any form of luck, more will come to share this sentiment Endless efforts put toward developing façades generally appealing Aiming to have candor and valor on the knees, kneeling This reality in which all are tirelessly scheming Sturdy quilts to shield clarity are woven most expertly Time being tested passed slowly- increment by minute increment Blueprints to fool the majority will be, expectedly, intricate What was the original reality has been altered into a distant, doubted memory Any and all accomplished legitimitacy sends them all reeling There's always a "crisis" with which we should be dealing Our universe in which all are tirelessly scheming
0
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 1:17 AM UTC
Tirelessly Scheming
Ugly and disappointing colors are what they're revealing It's a challenge not to fall victim to the deceptive deceiving This world in which all are tirelessly scheming Corrupt messages intended to disillusion our modes of sensory The laws of this dishonesty are rarely discriminant The unlimited reach of the effects are constantly consistent Putting current views and outlooks in legitimate jeopardy Originality is one thing they've made a hobby of stealing Dark, ***** secrets require intelligent attempts at concealing This society in which all are tirelessly scheming Naivity is an automatic assumption of all that is innocent You can witness their successes expending minimal energy The fraud is hazardous; failure is certainly imminent One would desire that outcome sooner than later, as it leaves recipients feeling elderly With any form of luck, more will come to share this sentiment Endless efforts put toward developing façades generally appealing Aiming to have candor and valor on the knees, kneeling This reality in which all are tirelessly scheming Sturdy quilts to shield clarity are woven most expertly Time being tested passed slowly- increment by minute increment Blueprints to fool the majority will be, expectedly, intricate What was the original reality has been altered into a distant, doubted memory Any and all accomplished legitimitacy sends them all reeling There's always a "crisis" with which we should be dealing Our universe in which all are tirelessly scheming
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25
to the immaculately vain; to the naivity of adolescence and the ignorance of maturity; to those who look with their eyes, feel with their fingers, savour that which is fed to us as magnificence; when you tint lips, tone hips, take your trips please know that what you see and touch and taste is mocking you. your eyes are deceiving you. for it is only the blind man who will recognize real beauty.
0
Nov 4, 2011
Nov 4, 2011 at 4:09 AM UTC
dear vanity
I want to marry you I want to marry this 17 year old naivity
 I want to collect it and put it in a glass box for the whole world to see I want to freeze frame, pause time, snapshot
 This photo of us 
This moment filled with nothing but young love and lust I want to drown in this bliss
 Stay forever underneath the surface
 I want to swim in eternal happiness
 And never come up for air.
0
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 4:47 PM UTC
Teenagers
A cherished friend once told me: You are who you love. I am much of her. And I am much of my other cherished friends. A lost love lives on in this way I am so much of him - I practically am him. I've loved so much I've left myself behind. In the streets of Manhattan, my soul left me. Maybe it stayed there, awaiting my return With some new fling on my arm To take me to the opera. I gave away my lightness and naivity to a dark, cold man who I know is more than that [there has to be more than that]. I left my pride in Toronto on Bloor street Where I flirted with 3 [three] men. I wanted them all. I still want them all. But I took only one. Except he took me. In moments he loves me so much he turns into me. But it is fleeting. And it has gone. So as we let go we regain ourselves. I will take back my optimism, thank you. And I will remain as myself until we meet again. Maybe then we won't be so selfish and take so much, Only to give so little.
0
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 10:56 PM UTC
Lament
He reads clouds in the sky, sees wind's great works of art. Bobbing gently through each wave, While he floats and dreams in a lake, secretly seaweed wraps around his body. Foggy underwater waves make his mind, body, and lungs set desperatley fighting in a breathing brought war of water and air. The boy is drowining, an idyllic dream landscape lake turned into a nightmare. Slowly as seaweed and currents bring his body to the dark depths of the lakescape, malice endrapes itself through one ear and out of the other; fate. The bubble blood life force of the boy from air, turns slowly to liquid, and his ghost dissolves. Coldness lingers and clawing weakly through frictionless water, lake bottom hits and frozen fingers. This boy's brain beginningly starts disentigrating as it processes the trickle drip flow and ebb of lake currents that sound and surround each thought. He remembers each whispering wave telling him to get in, with the sun beating down, the enticement to drown. And his mother's voice yells to him from a heavenly place, but he knows his watery tomb will become ear muffs for his mother when the depths finally win: will his life force to its bitter end. Back on black lake mud, and the sun framed in waves in the glowing waters above. And the tangled arms of seaweed beckon those that leasure on the surface. Childhood faces and feel good places dissapear from his mind. At the bottom of the lake, this boy becomes himself, with the world's first hinting of trauma, he let his naivity die in a dramatic show, body blows and a new manifesticity to sit by. With each inhale of water, this kid's childhood dies. And by the time he resurfaces, he has lost what it means to be alive.
0
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 11:02 AM UTC
Drowning
He reads clouds in the sky, sees wind's great works of art. Bobbing gently through each wave, While he floats and dreams in a lake, secretly seaweed wraps around his body. Foggy underwater waves make his mind, body, and lungs set desperatley fighting in a breathing brought war of water and air. The boy is drowining, an idyllic dream landscape lake turned into a nightmare. Slowly as seaweed and currents bring his body to the dark depths of the lakescape, malice endrapes itself through one ear and out of the other; fate. The bubble blood life force of the boy from air, turns slowly to liquid, and his ghost dissolves. Coldness lingers and clawing weakly through frictionless water, lake bottom hits and frozen fingers. This boy's brain beginningly starts disentigrating as it processes the trickle drip flow and ebb of lake currents that sound and surround each thought. He remembers each whispering wave telling him to get in, with the sun beating down, the enticement to drown. And his mother's voice yells to him from a heavenly place, but he knows his watery tomb will become ear muffs for his mother when the depths finally win: will his life force to its bitter end. Back on black lake mud, and the sun framed in waves in the glowing waters above. And the tangled arms of seaweed beckon those that leasure on the surface. Childhood faces and feel good places dissapear from his mind. At the bottom of the lake, this boy becomes himself, with the world's first hinting of trauma, he let his naivity die in a dramatic show, body blows and a new manifesticity to sit by. With each inhale of water, this kid's childhood dies. And by the time he resurfaces, he has lost what it means to be alive.
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58
Elections have come and gone And we've all said baba Praying within the confines of our heart that we've not enthroned another usurper Hoping that joy and comfort will not once more elude our grasp Our taste bud has long been wetted by empty reforms and unfulfilled promises By the politivians, judisharers and the legislooters Parading the runway of power Displaying their naivity in running a nation in a manner so amazing and discomforting It makes the thought of paradise less appealing But now The rulers are leaving the scene for the leaders to come in And the people are getting more conscious of the power we wield in unity We've gathered our brooms and we've entrusted it in your hands Believing that you'll lay the foundation of a better nation Baba now that you are there Let the focus on the food we eat be more important than that our vehicles consume Baba now that you're there Let the national cake be the lot of every citizen and not selected elites locking around the corridors of power Baba now that you're there Let me be proud to die for my country Without being fearful of how my family will survive Baba now that you're there Let me be able to display my identity in another land without fear of interrogation or prejudice Baba now that you're there Let progress, excellence and success be the right of every citizen regardless of their tribe, religion or background Baba now that you're there Let there be change.
0
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
let there be change
I need to be honest All this pain It's not their fault Not anymore Cause everyday I choose I Choose to torture myself When I listen to love songs The sweet ones I let myself think about him The one who was weak The one who ran When I needed him The one I still love I listen to broken heart songs The angry ones I let myself think about him The one who abused my naivity The one who claimed to care Yet not enough to save my life Who I can't leave behind I let myself do this I dare to keep going There's a new guy I know one day it'll hurt But I can only think Now. it doesn't I'm so stupid
0
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 8:30 PM UTC
I chose
I still think in-sync with the ceremonial intro. Even though its reduced to unclaimed brick, I visit naughty corridors and assembly halls decorated in sports equipment. After showing off my award, I ***** out candles and bolt that horse to a new port village where clubs buried in earth begin to dent my naivity. But tweed remained fashion. A collage of uniform, green fields and tennis courts resembled my life in the trench. Words like 'posh' and 'snob' were the only examples of difference until I became a witness. Discovered homelessness meant vagrants. They became as common as a boxed sandwich. Everybody has their own intoxication of choice. Bargain of choice, newspaper of choice, where Brookside is a crossword answer filled whilst feeding mallards white bread in the park. Writing that makes me the biggest hypocrite of all. I grew fond of plays. Began to write poetry. What would they think of me? A **** football match where the ref cost us the game still pumps through my veins, I assure thee. That left ventricle breathes here too. War has never been declared but the battles have existed since before Shakespeare wrote Hamlet. It's estate versus estate. As much as I'm up for a fight, history won't change overnight - especially in an election, selfie posted or status shared with a handful of friends who actually voted. Living in the middle of Common- wealth is a lonely place. But there will be a hotel monopoly of vacancies built on my mediocre grave if I acknowledge the better or lesser sort themselves. After all, I ate processed chicken breast and ignored politics myself. Perhaps now, it's time to act like the squirrel. Barks become growls, become quacks, become the fool again.
0
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 12:35 PM UTC
common/wealth
I still think in-sync with the ceremonial intro. Even though its reduced to unclaimed brick, I visit naughty corridors and assembly halls decorated in sports equipment. After showing off my award, I ***** out candles and bolt that horse to a new port village where clubs buried in earth begin to dent my naivity. But tweed remained fashion. A collage of uniform, green fields and tennis courts resembled my life in the trench. Words like 'posh' and 'snob' were the only examples of difference until I became a witness. Discovered homelessness meant vagrants. They became as common as a boxed sandwich. Everybody has their own intoxication of choice. Bargain of choice, newspaper of choice, where Brookside is a crossword answer filled whilst feeding mallards white bread in the park. Writing that makes me the biggest hypocrite of all. I grew fond of plays. Began to write poetry. What would they think of me? A **** football match where the ref cost us the game still pumps through my veins, I assure thee. That left ventricle breathes here too. War has never been declared but the battles have existed since before Shakespeare wrote Hamlet. It's estate versus estate. As much as I'm up for a fight, history won't change overnight - especially in an election, selfie posted or status shared with a handful of friends who actually voted. Living in the middle of Common- wealth is a lonely place. But there will be a hotel monopoly of vacancies built on my mediocre grave if I acknowledge the better or lesser sort themselves. After all, I ate processed chicken breast and ignored politics myself. Perhaps now, it's time to act like the squirrel. Barks become growls, become quacks, become the fool again.
Continue reading...
59
In fantasy fallacies Covetous malice is Greediest deities' Vanity palaces Callous regarding The weary and meek The ostensible shepherds Just wolves among sheep Counting each of their Unanswered prayers Before sleep Yet despair doesn't seem To preclude Pleasant dreams Nor to render naivity scenes To demean What of logic and reason Should clearly evince They abandoned us long ago, Haven't cared since And their whereabouts Unbeknownst Mystery ways Inexplicable how They free will us As slaves The obsequious miscreant False prophet faith Inculcated in cults Of a non-personality Spreading its virulent Indigent malady Bow and prostrate yourselves On your knees Cowardly Why fear what hasn't appeared In the flesh To be real Why exalt higher powers Except how you feel Leaves me reeling, Unraveling Traveling Gone again Out to let go And expose Gods As frauds of men
0
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 1:35 PM UTC
Divine Artifices
Your life knows no answer When you spend your nights By the sea- beaming your woes to the Sympathetic waves of reality. You try to ponder on the future That was securely balanced on the Wings of a fallen Angel. But her feathers have shedded black and she Lives in an obsidian fable. Do you remember? Under the November Luna which lit an ambience on those reckless lips; Which still had the repelling aroma of beer and strong spirits. But just for now- let's meld- become one with the Night Deity, banquet our fates and lost hopes on the false promises of our doomed reveries. I'll gift you the white feather, the silver and striped pelts of your savagery. I'll pleasure you by saying nothing... ...but you can work out the rest. The demise of your damsels in distress. So after you have finished feasting on the succulent hearts of your romantic, haughty slaves- you are no longer welcome to the tribe of the brave. It is not a sin, nor a taint of reputation; Oh, it is an act of naivity and damnation. I submit, I'll be your green-eyed monster. But I cannot succumb to resent forever. So my life knows no answer But atleast I will thrive through the thick, smog of your lies and fallacious treasures. Go back to your rakish zoo, your spirits, your hallucinations: Sink back into your vast carelessness. But as for me, I will be born back into the sanguine wilderness And lurk in the umbra.
0
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 11:19 AM UTC
Umbra
my slumber heart flickers at the thought of you how can you be? its you and the moon sleeping wide awake underneath and above full of naivity careless like the ocean breeze and hearted like a blank page on a old notebook full of words that mean the ultimate and complete nothingness
0
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 8:43 AM UTC
empty thoughts
It's been six years since you left I know it's been long but I still mourn Your warmth your care Your guidance your anger I still miss though I'm proud to admit Your image looms larger than life It feels as though happiness left with you Echoing through the walls of my mind Is the sound of your precious admonition One which I resented while you walk the face of the earth But now, now I'll pay any price to hear you beat it into my ear drums like the sound of a thunderous conga slap The world feels so lonely and cold without you Maami The carriage in which I arrived this world The embodiment of wisdom and understanding The lioness that needs not roar to earn the respect of her pride The queen that needs no crown to prove her royalty You knew about my dreams I told you first of my vision And though the world scuffed at my naivity You stood by me Even if you never believed in my dream I'll never know cos you did a good job in concealing your thoughts just to aid me as I take baby steps towards achieving my dreams But I hadn't gotten up my feet before death took you away without my consent It's been six years since you left And I'm yet to achieve my dream I promised you heaven and earth the minute I hit my gold mine but it seems as though life became a giant mill grinding every dream to dust I'll keep on fighting maami I'll keep on fighting till I wrest from life what is truly mine Till I get to the finish line of my journey But until then I hope you're resting in a cozy City in the ***** of Abraham I hope heaven gives you the care I tried but couldn't give I hope you find all the rest life stole away from you I hope you're reunited with babami your husband whom you where ever faithful to while you were on earth I'll make you proud one day I swear But even if I finally bow out of my quest in life And I show up at your door step with a sack of unfulfilled dreams I hope you'll welcome me with open arms Knowing in your heart without a shred of doubt That I tried.
0
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 3:36 PM UTC
6 years
It's been six years since you left I know it's been long but I still mourn Your warmth your care Your guidance your anger I still miss though I'm proud to admit Your image looms larger than life It feels as though happiness left with you Echoing through the walls of my mind Is the sound of your precious admonition One which I resented while you walk the face of the earth But now, now I'll pay any price to hear you beat it into my ear drums like the sound of a thunderous conga slap The world feels so lonely and cold without you Maami The carriage in which I arrived this world The embodiment of wisdom and understanding The lioness that needs not roar to earn the respect of her pride The queen that needs no crown to prove her royalty You knew about my dreams I told you first of my vision And though the world scuffed at my naivity You stood by me Even if you never believed in my dream I'll never know cos you did a good job in concealing your thoughts just to aid me as I take baby steps towards achieving my dreams But I hadn't gotten up my feet before death took you away without my consent It's been six years since you left And I'm yet to achieve my dream I promised you heaven and earth the minute I hit my gold mine but it seems as though life became a giant mill grinding every dream to dust I'll keep on fighting maami I'll keep on fighting till I wrest from life what is truly mine Till I get to the finish line of my journey But until then I hope you're resting in a cozy City in the ***** of Abraham I hope heaven gives you the care I tried but couldn't give I hope you find all the rest life stole away from you I hope you're reunited with babami your husband whom you where ever faithful to while you were on earth I'll make you proud one day I swear But even if I finally bow out of my quest in life And I show up at your door step with a sack of unfulfilled dreams I hope you'll welcome me with open arms Knowing in your heart without a shred of doubt That I tried.
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42
You humble me down By the naivity of your actions You make me wander in the streets of town Overwhelmed by jollity's screams, innumerable captions You make me find out my purpose Searching the long way but eventually grasping Indirectly, with no ease, then at last to find it in my purse Unfolding my life answers, now overlapping You scare me enough to gape When I scrape off your tint to find the glittering gold In patches I can align to shape Then I discover, illusions could be cold I feel right in my heart for the fossils i have gathered I now know you better and my doubts have been scattered
0
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 8:53 AM UTC
Despite