"occassion" poems
Loneliness Is Wishing To Cry
Can we really control our loneliness when it attacks? Of course not. However, we can employ the means by which to channel it into a positive force. A force whereby we recruit others and together battle this power of the dark side attempting to cajole us into this state of melancholy. We have to collectively rise to the occassion, and with the force of Good, vanquish it forever more.
Here is a short poem about what loneliness means to me. It was written at a time in my life when I was trying to deal with the recent death of a close family member. Needless to say, I was most devasted at the time of this writing. This poem at that time, in reflection, acted as a therapeutic means for me to "get it all out".
Loneliness is despair
Loneliness is something to beware
Loneliness is the thought today
of no tomorrow
Loneliness is wishing to cry
without knowing why
Loneliness is a simple feeling
without a simple answer
Loneliness comes
Loneliness goes
Loneliness is that uninvited guest
who visits, always without a request
Loneliness is a sickness
you my friend are the cure
Together we will strengthen
and together we will endure.....
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC
There's something about this past few days
I can't explain what's going on
I can't do nothing but to continue and hold on
All I know now is I am smiling without knowing how.
In the back of my mind, there is you lookin' at me in secrecy
I'll never forget the feeling I felt while you are waving
I still recall the playful conversation at the stairs
I don't know why, but I am captivated by your eye.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 3:33 AM UTC
I had always heard that festivals are symbols of joy,symbols of happiness.
but I think more than that it is feeling o f peace,prosperity,love,kindness it is the only time when everyone in our society have get together,follow rituals and the most interesting part is the broken relationships,friendships & every other relations get adhere together.
friends i always thought that festivals means only having holidays and enjoying it but today i came to know that every festival has its own story like Christmas for birth of lord Christ,
Diwali for returning of lord Rama and goddess Sita.
on the occassion of DEEPAVALI I wish everyone HAPPY DEEPAVALI and may this diwali bring prosperity,Elation,peace in your life!!!!
Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 11:17 AM UTC
Dear thickness,
Dear bold flesh I call shelter of leg,
protection for this body I call home
Dear thighs.
You are more important than you think
more crucial than you've been told
more space than I know what to do with and
more vocal than most other girls' quiet but
your prominence is nothing to hide
your existence is not an apology ready to be given,
your presence does not want to be covered
the way you suffocate yourself into a pair of jeans is
a talent unlike any other
or on hot summer days when skin comes out to
kiss itself between your graces
leaving marks as evidence
what some would call chub rub,
I call magic,
an inability to resist touching,
Thighs.
You never let clothing,
or temperature,
or weather come between you
you are passionate lover,
the proud I always strive to be
the unapologetic beauty I wish was all of me
you maintain the confidence I have to dig for to find within myself
you have so much potential built into the many layers of thick
I cannot tell you enough how important it is
Some say you save lives and
I would have to agree
but still
I know that there have been times when I have neglected you
moments where I have been blind in acknowledging your worth
It is not an easy feat to love the parts of yourself we are taught from
such an early age to hate
magazines have always said be small while
you have always aimed for big
trends tell you to grow in when
all you've ever wanted is to grow out and
expand into a galaxy built of freckles and skin,
you are human as human as gets
I have made you into a warzone on more than
one occassion and for that I am sorry
I am sorry
for more than one reason
I am sorry that this world has twisted your greatness into embarrassment
I am sorry that people have tried to make an apology out of your density
I am sorry that we live in a society that keeps telling you to shrink
I am sorry for all of the times I have wanted you to.
It has taken me years to be thankful for your holy,
you are the answer to my every prayer for health
you are living proof of survival,
Thighs.
This is my proclamation of appreciation
This is my asking forgiveness
I never meant to make you feel anything but needed
Thighs.
you were not made to be thin
you were not meant to be shy
you were built to be the loudest voice in every room
head turning, eye catching, without remorse
you are never silent
even when I am
and for that,
I love you.
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 5:43 PM UTC
/ sitting on your leg
almost ingesting a tongue-like
presence into your ****
on a window-sill?
miracle, when it comes
to bowel movement;
and what a pristine piece
of **** that was...
i hope homosexual ***
feels... just as good.
p.s. esp. while listening
to brooke c's drum covers...
and to think...
some people read books
on the throne of thrones...
on the odd occassion a game,
but sometimes:
watching videos,
thinking to myself:
this takes the bollocking -
it's d'ah ****
i guess that's what you might
call cognitive massage parlour
additive to compensate
for...
the deconstructive
post-modernist, derrida spreschen
of modern lawyers...
brick is a brick isn't a brick
type of scenarios...
i thought they stopped
as a thesaurus sensibility?
guess i was wrong, all along.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 8:06 PM UTC
Jesus came to my birthday party when i was 17.
He listened and laughed and smirked a bit
at the holes and scars in my dreams.
He wore a black hat, and jeans, and chains;
he said heaven was not what it seemed.
That angels and devils were one and the same,
and them plus me makes three.
He said nobody knows what's really the matter,
so just keep on pretending to be
what God and teachers and mothers and fathers
all expect from a girl of 17.
That was a long time ago,
and i haven't seen him in a while.
He smokes on occassion, but not for fun,
and says he was innocent and should have had a trial.
But he's dead and so am i so what's even the use,
of remembering a birthday that never existed:
i'll plead insanity as my excuse.
Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 1:13 AM UTC
night has passed
clanking and exhaling,
small talks of large projects, conundrums;
oak wood canines roam in bliss
new found love found lager
new found lover found a big stomach in the morning
and a smile on his face, not penetrating his soul.
deep and shallow, bodies of water dig going with the flow.
perhaps a bowl of cereal is in the general direction we're floating,
huzzah, brumah, and lack-lack.
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 9:37 AM UTC
If I was in a war against sleep
I would be winning
For I have not given in to the peaceful darkness.
...
But this is the one occassion where I wish I would just lose.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 3:40 AM UTC
into the gloaming
you dance, with small
uncertain steps
the music dims
heard mostly
inside your mind
the swing band plays
as you sway
between uncertainty
and the nineteen fifties
when you danced all night
in patent leather pumps
with stockings saved for
the occassion
glowing with youth
and the energy that
falling love brings
now these memories
burn bright as your
life light dims
and your dance partner
the kind young nurse
as down the hall
in the mood
plays on some ones
radio
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 2:29 AM UTC
We once walked these streets together
at a time when 'forever' was something real.
Our kisses were gentle pecks, here and there.
Missing our aim, on occassion,
but sweet with a purity I long for still.
We didn't lie about our dreams together.
We just bent our desires to fit our wishes.
Our ignorance caught up to us soon enough.
I took the high road while you descended
down an easier path.
I recall that first morning so long ago.
Awaking to a vacancy of empty fitted sheets
and tears that replaced the echo of our routine.
The sounds of our love absorbed by
the plaster walls, still jingle at times.
The pain is gone,
and tender memories remain.
The high road I treaded upon gives
clear views of our long lost past.
But, only the lonliest of broken hearts
can travel that path.
The streets are quiet now.
And I remain,
still in love
and never the same.
~~~
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
Would you reply
if I
say "hi..."?
On this day,
which just happened to be
--Valentine's day...
No, I don't want to say the greeting,
or to ask you to roll in the occassion...
Or to make the event a play,
plotting you into my ploy,
Dear me, no... never that daunting...
never to lead you on...
I just...
have been missing you...
like sedated...
afloat mid-air, --levitated...!
Ever since I met you,
yes, that meaningless banter,
you stole my heart and I want it back,
so that I can give it to someone new,
...
or else you'll keep me forever,
in this aimless,
foolish...
insatiable, endless,
thoughts of you...
Been thinking of you...
It just happened to be
this Valentine's Day...
--...
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
/ donald trump is here?!
on these splendid, splendid isles?!
really?
where was the past week?
good thing that i bought
that johnnie walker red label
especially for the occassion -
without actually knowing it was
to take place...
i guess you might call
watching protests on t.v.
a bit like:
going to an illegal rave
party in an abandoned
industrial building
somewhere in
dagenham, or shoreditch,
or 'ackney...
britain is not getting what it already
wants -
i can understand blatant
flattery, and airs, monsieur,
monsieur bleu, rouge et blanc...
the one time that britain looks...
bedazzled?!
frizzy haired...
the sort of comic sketch
of a **** scene where the man wakes
up having sobbed himself
to sleep, in a disney cartoonish
way expressing frightened awe
and the words:
[what] the **** just happened?
'ave a tongue for a **** mate.
- honest to god though:
where have i been for the past week?!
i've paid attention to the football -
croissants, or, chequers?!
hmm...
oi! two face, what's
your gamblers' pundit?
- let the slavic sub-plot
'ave it,
if goran (ivanišević)
could do it, this ******* litter can do it,
given they reached the semi-finals
in 1998...
and believe me:
some people...
*are really jealous of the chessboard
representation on fabric, shh...*
or at least that's what i whispered
into the ear of lucifer,
hermitage's secondary
(only to achilles)
schwarz, mouse-catcher;
and if i'm wrong -
then i'm wrong:
but since i don't actually gamble using
money...
i tap into the emotional
excitment of gambling -
within the confines of expectation
of being right...
somehow, gambling,
but where what i bet with is... zeit...
and grooving to boris brejcha,
tantra of a DJ set...
**** me via my ears
and call me Sally...
nod nod nod...
(ten minutes later):
nod nod nod...
(15 minutes later):
nod nod nod (with an added
drumkit imitation of the whole
body starting to form a scary shadow
of a man sitting down
before a blank pixel screen
seeing letters and words appear
like a god might
see stars, and constellations appear
in the dark, dark: voooooooooo
'oid)
which is no proof that i made
a hiccup. /
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 7:13 PM UTC
*
many a thing i have on my mind
when writin' the moment decides
the floatin' words there are to find
driven by main 'n' carried besides
a flowin' of all feelings expressed
for it the occassion itself provides
tho might it seem as dispossessed
consciousness to which it depends
'n' to whatever it may be addressed
the more it takes the more it bends
tho no block delays on to the move
thereby thinkin' too much extends
rather it's not 'till i myself approve
forever perfectin' tryin' to improve
*..love always...
عرفان بن يوسف © AH 25/03/1437
**
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 8:50 AM UTC
To those who rise at 4 in the morning.
Sin cannot win and faith cannot fail.
For those rising not for the occassion
But for the necessity of being.
This one's for you.
For all the coffee spilled on leather car seats,
And the evidence that the caffeine runs
Differently through your veins.
Because let's face it. You need it.
You were told the youth of Germany
shared your taste in coffee and cigarettes
For breakfast.
Here is to those who have never seen the sun set,
but greet its rise with a forsaken smirk,
as it has lost its luster by now.
You can take a shower later, for that
final fifteen minutes could equate a
winters hibernation at this point.
They say for every step forward, you take
two steps back, but that's hard to believe
When the world is standing still.
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 1:42 AM UTC
I still imagine you lying next to me on occassion. I don't picture you as you were, rather how I imagine you now. Happier, Healthier, your freckles starting to bloom like they always do this time of year.
I still imagine you lying in the back seat of my car. Now that space is occupied by cameras that I wish I could take pictures of you with, but I'll likely never see your negatives develop again.
I still imagine my parents asking about you, when they'll see you again. Now your name hasn't been spoken in months and all I want is to hear it from somebody besides myself.
I still imagine you waiting for me in my bed sometimes. Now your place has been taken by countless people, but I wish they're you every single time.
I wish it was you.
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 11:04 PM UTC
Praises to God
For every moment,
Every second,
Every millisecond.
Praises to God
For the forgiveness,
For the freedom,
For flexing his muscles to fully free me from all of affliction.
For victory over the condition of conviction,
How confession in conversation, the collaboration of connection in correction,
Can collude to cover the catastrophic occassion.
Praises to God
For everything, all, and all in it.
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 6:01 PM UTC
**If I could find the Proverbs
arranging them accordingly
Inside these lucid creases
I would die happy, just to
concieve metrical composition
... for all time
I'd scribble heartbreaks and
rescue missions of my soul
to clarify empathy of baptism
that my love is more than love
If I had a key with a heart
bleeding at the crown
I would unlock the poison
So much I allowed myself
in suffering
I am languishing
rib cages, shutting in
all my reasoning to breathe...
were to be found another day
I'd scribe in scrolls
of my 15 yrs of sorrows
hoping your eyes can see
I am just as damaged as
a vehical wreck
Yet a mother of 1
who was lost on a sad
occassion
3yrs ago when I first decided
to bare my deepest and thickest
outpour of my poetry,
I wrote about you
Mathias Ti'avasu'e
..I became the whipping
motherless girl beneath Zues..
Conveyed the impression
at first glance
Writing my storms delicately
as when mommy first held you
helped me describe
my inner workings
so that you might understand
… exactly the mother I could have been
I love you in all of your grace,
your purity,
and your precious life.
And when that time comes
that I may write of you
I could find the words I need
to create heavenly for you
and conquer
... and if this makes perfect poetry,
then why does it still hurt so bad?
© The Madd Hatteress**
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 7:52 PM UTC
Can I tell you a secret?
I'm a liar.
Why am I telling you this?
It's just easier to tell strangers the truth,
Than people close to you because,
They don't ask questions,
They just nod their head and keep to themselves their suggestions.
Why am I telling you this?
I just openly admitted to all of you that I'm a liar,
So it's hard for you to think about these things if I'm telling the truth or not,
So what's the point of all this if I'm just lying to your faces.
Well ladies and gentlemen I'm just pouring the brandy to your glasses,
As I intoxicate you more with the lies that my sugarcoated lips can say,
An average person is lied to 200 times a day,
The most oftenly used lie are the words, "I'm okay."
Like when my mom asked me when my eyes all rubbed out from crying too much,
Or that time when I looked myself in the mirror and had to tell myself that lie over and over again just to get myself through the day.
With that being said I need to tell you one more thing,
My backyard is filled with skeletons of people that I have buried and skinned,
I keep their skins in my closet so I have one for every occassion.
I keep so many of them that who I really am just got lost within the confines of my closet.
I have worn so many that I have already been so comfortable in each and everyone of them,
I wear them so often that I have gotten so good at pretending to be someone else,
I have gotten so atuned to it that no one can tell that I'm lying,
That's why no one's chasing me around with matches threatening to set my pants on fire.
If I gave you a tour of my closet you'd see all the skins I wear as suits and it wouldn't surprise you,
That who's infront of you right now is just another one I wore for this occassion to fool you,
Then you'd see all the things I've been trying to hide,
I have gotten so good at it that I'm starting to believe in it myself,
I am starting to believe that I am those people,
That I am okay, that I am fine, that I didn't mean to lie but,
I just had to for the greater good,
I convince myself that I'm doing what's right when the truth is I don't know what it is I'm doing,
So yes, I am a liar, I admit to it.
But what I'm asking you is please,
Help me. Help me find out the truth,
Because I have gotten so good at lying that, I ask myself "who am I?"
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 3:01 PM UTC
Sometimes . . .
Such as a Who
. . . at Leeds ,
Or a dream unfullfilled
. . . in Alabama
Or the conflict
. . . daily in Dallas
or the absurd
. . . "Free at last ! Free at Last! Thank God free at last !
The more it changes
The less I recognize
. . . and there you elbow me
saying ,"It remains the same!"
Poetry is like underwear
It's wearable but not necessary
Comes in all shapes and sizes
Any color you would want
with printed statements of facts
Some wear well
Some have holes
Some rise to the occassion
Some barely make it waste deep
Aug 9, 2024
Aug 9, 2024 at 2:28 AM UTC
Sometimes when I'm alone..
My heart likes to **** with my mind and play movie stills of nostalgic ******** I have no patience to entertain anymore.
Actually...
lately when this ******** occurs, I replace it with the hell my heart tends to forget.
Like bullet points...
Sometimes its phrases.
Sometimes its things you did that were absolutely ******
Or on that rare occassion where I start to miss you...
I simply use the last words I heard from you and that seems to do the trick.
You remember dont you?
I was desperate and afraid of losing what we had... Because I still believed you loved me..
Isn't that hilarious?
and I most certainly loved you...
So I reached out to apologize, face to face and I'll never forget what you said to me...
It makes me laugh now, because its pure evil but its like a ****** up tattoo thats never going away...
"My girlfriend wouldnt appreciate us meeting up."
It killed me at the time...
But its hilarious now, because I was your wife...
But its okay, and finally...
So am I....
I stopped missing you...
I stopped wondering what you were doing...
If you were sorry.
If you missed me.
It took me so the **** long...
I mourned you like you were dead...
But now when someone speaks your name, or I hear your car outside my window...
I'm indifferent and I never understood the meaning of that word until.....
I repeatedly, repeated that small little phrase to myself.
Isn't that crazy?
that's all it took....
And like magic...
Surprise!!!!!
I don't ******* care.
Every tear that ever formed in my eyes...
Everytime I'd entertain a memory of you.
Everytime I'd hear your name and feel as if I'd gotten the wind kicked out of me.
Everytime I'd drop to my knees because I couldn't bare to live without you or what you had done to me...
It finally just stopped burning inside me...
There's nothing left for you here my dear.
No old photos to mourn.
No more desperation.
Its gone up in flames and i'll never burn for you again.
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 3:32 AM UTC
Struggling ain’t fun
whether your wallet’s getting tight
or your mind’s outta rhymes
Money and wits prevents all kinds of strife
And at the end of the day
I want success clearly stated in my pay
and my brain learning so much,
I get a blurring headache;
Like back in school,
Remember on occassion, math for two hours straight?
I just wanna taste opulence
No more economic or mental
Chains of Restraint
I just need to realign
Now entwined with this Sigil
for Wealthy Wallet and Mind
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 6:04 AM UTC
A time when u think of a moment in life that makes u remember a moment when u feel special it could be with a girlfriend/boyfriend or a mother/father when u feel special all up and inside it could be a date a party u attended or even a special occassion.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
Tiny pebbles tumble down a staircase
Of concrete, rock and sand
They keep their momentum going
With the assistance of the wind
Tiny droplets cover the decks
Of thousands of fleet
Through the blanket of light
They ascend and dissipate in the sky
The mere occassion
Bonds narrowly with evocation
With assistance of the heavens
They coexist
But through painful contemplation
The momentum is lost
A fraction of an entity
But what am I?
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
the ancient greeks
would call
asia's mysticism
nothing more
than a tautology...
tao:
the tao that can be
named,
is not the eternal
tao...
i see one tao:
the best way
you can help
the world,
is to forget the world,
and let the world
to forget you...
like some Irish
poet once wrote;
who was it?
ah!
louis macneice
in ehyeh asher ehyeh...
*in der beginn
und der ende
der nur dezent definition
ist tautologie:
mann ist mann,
frau frau,
und baum baum,
und welt... welt...*
which is the basic
principle of asiatic
"mysticism"...
der ding dass ist, ist...
und der ding dass nicht ist:
ist
nein-ist,
aber nicht: nein!
watching Swedish drama
i took to understand
the difference between
nein and nicht:
and nichts...
circus of nouns...
Asiatic mysticism -
tautology...
nein ist nicht ein absolut
nein:
the Asiatic folk
spiced it all up
with an addition of
adjectives... nichts mehr...
how can i have
an opinion about England,
not being an Englishman?
sidenote...
i'm no migrant exotica,
i am not luxury:
given that i am economic...
hence
my desire to hide
in German,
whenever i can,
while entertaining
the use of English...
i can't have an opinion
about England,
because i am not an Englishman
and the Englishman's
opinion is worth:
jack-shit...
out of curiosity,
i watch,
and... too apprehensive
about waiting
i forget to wait...
wenn da eine nachleben:
ich hoffen zu spreschen
deutsche...
i was born in Poland...
so...
what do sie denken my
meinung of England är,
given that i'm not an Englishman
and i'd föredra to speak
Deutsche
after death,
than be plagued by
this acquired tongue?
i don't have an opinion
worthy of it being designated
as having accommodation
to encompass said land,
i'm only here in passing:
i wish!
but for not being
a pompous brat,
my servitude is that of the natives...
of which i am not...
hence my minor
ploys of escapism in
german...
somehow...
a few words in German
alleviates the burden
of seeing the natives
buckle before
whoever reigns...
but being white,
i could almost pass off as
a Brit...
i can, and do...
and then on occassion:
i don't.
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 8:28 PM UTC