"outspoken" poems
I am warmhearted and icy cold,
with a pretty face that's getting old.
I am fragile yet tough as a man,
struggle thru life with no real plan.
I am petite and cuss like a trucker,
slightly naive, but I'm no sucker.
I am a sinner with a halo of gold,
an open book with secrets untold.
I am a hypocrite but always play fair,
a bleeding heart and I don't care.
I am a mother who acts like a child,
crazy, impatient and easily riled.
I am spontaneous and I am a bore,
forever forgiving, I still keep score.
I am unstable and wonderfully wise,
a ****** deviant in sweet disguise.
I am creative and self-destructive
naturally skilled and unproductive.
I am shy and I am outspoken
with a heart of stone, easily broken.
I am awkward and well refined,
lost, insightful and a little love-blind.
I am respected and I am addicted
shamed by burdens, self inflicted.
I am a perfectionist and I am a slob,
unbiased and shallow, an inept snob.
I am nocturnal, a creature of night,
blissfully ignorant, typically right.
I am cautious and I have no fear,
a loser and quitter, still I persevere.
I am brilliant and easily amused,
over-zealous and under-enthused.
I am impervious with wounds to heal,
an occasional liar just keepin' it real.
I am weird and lovely and mean-
I am what I am.......100 Aileen.
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
I had
drowned in
those ocean currents
they call eyes.
Slipped away,
not a word outspoken.
Strangled with glacier hands,
fingertips of salt and
thunder cottoning my
eardrums.
You wanted to save me,
but I could not tell you
over the salt eroding
my throat,
that you were the one drowning me.
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 11:33 PM UTC
she is outspoken and bold
bold like the sun
bolder than an army of boulders
falling from a hillside
she is an avalanche
when there is nowhere left to run
she is despised by some
and others wish to fill her
with some old fashioned whisky
i am sanctified by her ways
and returned to my former glory
as this poem has tasted far better days
she is a morning glory
her eyes are like the petals of a flower
she is the Wordsworth of the decade
a wordsmith dancing in her own decay
i am essentially a target
a lost projectile in the arrow's path
she has coaxed me back to sanity
with her sardonic gestures
and her sarcastic use of wit
i am a nitwit she said
so i laugh and pick the flowers from her hair
slowly and soporifically
i am seaweed adrift in her bonnet
sandpaper scattered along the shoreline
remove the blind spectacles
and eat the lines i’ve written
a poem is just a candle anyway
to spray the eyes of infinity with lightning
mars is retrograde regardless
so i’ll just sit here and pretend
that i’m not too much of a target for her beauty
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
I am broken
I've finally snapped
What was holding me together
Is almost gone
Though I thought it may stick forever
I am broken
I feel the pain
My past thoughts have become vain
The way I feel, is considered
Inconsiderate
The way I act, is that of a broken man
This was not my plan
To be in agony
I don't want to deal with it angrily
I feel trapped by the gravity
In this hell ridden galaxy
I start to see the vanity
Of this reality
My anger and insanity
My depression and my humanity
It's all been revealed
I may never be healed
I am broken
My words are now outspoken.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 3:21 PM UTC
A female tennis player might give
An umpire a piece of her mind
When she disagrees with him.
Consequently, she is fined
Or penalized in other ways.
However, if the player's a male,
He can spit, destroy his racket,
Yell, and viciously assail
The umpire at a tournament.
He could even resort to calling
The ump an "abortion," and little or nothing
Happens to him. Now THAT'S appalling!
A candid man might be considered
"Direct" or "outspoken." Isn't that rich?
But if you are an assertive women,
You are basically called a *****
A man who loudly demonstrates
At a Senate hearing in an angry fashion
Could be considered "aggressive" or even
Be called a man of "impetuous passion."
A woman, however, who interrupts
A Senate hearing with passion hears
Herself being called "hysterical" when
She's led away to Senators' sneers.
Sexism? Discrimination?
Inequality? Status quo?
It certainly appears that way.
The double standard has got to go!
-by Bob B (9-11-18)
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 9:13 AM UTC
Are you sound of mind?
Addicted to dandelions
like the ocean is to ice.
Wait outside the blood bank,
learn how to write dialogue
and make saccharin spines.
My journal is a tangle of spines,
keep an open mind
help me box up my ****** dialogue.
I’ve always been a fan of dandelions
etching paths along the river bank,
streams within the winter ice.
Buckets of camphor ice
relax the notches in spines
as we wait in line at the food bank.
Thoughts of jawbones on my mind,
the taste of dandelions
and organized pre-scripted dialogue.
Backhanded blue dialogue,
counting the vanilla crystals of ice
blowing the smell of cinnamon into floating dandelions.
My hands handle happiness spines
with the peace of mind
of money in the piggy bank.
Let's rob a bank
shooting quiet malleable dialogue
through an altered state of mind.
Your ribs are two sheets of ice
ivy wrapping around our intertwined spines
crumbly blowing breaths of dandelions.
Second hand dandelions
build up in the river bank
muddy trenches around spines
whisper outspoken blue green dialogue.
Three pounds of dry ice,
warm water vapour at the back of my mind
Store buy your dandelions, bear in mind
that the West Bank is covered in ice
and that spines speak their own muted dialogue.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 1:08 AM UTC
I am compassionate and pray hard,
because I am my own Snow White,
I am poise with my strong mind and spirit,
because I am my own Cinderella,
I am natural and cheerful,
because I am my own Aurora,
I am determined to follow my own dreams,
because I am my own Ariel,
I am loyal, outspoken and intelligent,
because I am my own Belle,
I am independent and have courage for myself,
because I am my own Jasmine,
I am brave and strong,
because I am my own Pocahontas,
I am bringing the honor for my family,
because I am my own Mulan,
I am faithful and assertiveness,
because I am my own Rapunzel,
I am not an ordinary Disney Princess,
because I am me.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
A soul, a survivor of an emptied dark pit
We calleth the planet-globe; Certes a western
Mountain glow. She giveth all, even to those
Who cometh with hatred, she's outspoken,
Unbroken, willing and thus patient. A prophetess
Of the clandestine; her poetry as wine to relax
Men and boy's, girl's who knoweth none joy- she
Bringeth the finest of lingo. Even with her own
Worries, she let's thine head, with her comforting
Word's- relax upon thine pillow. She's verily a
Poetess of the native land's meadow's. O' soul-
Survivor, with an open heart and kindred-spirit.
Only if everyone couldst seeith thy light, they'd
All come near it.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Birthday dedicated to soul-survivor....
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 3:59 PM UTC
Be Brave and Be Outspoken,
Be Beautiful and Be Wise,
Be Stubborn and Be Heroic,
Be Rebellious and Be Crazy,
Be Strong and Be Kind,
because at the end of the day,
when all is said and done,
you will have no regrets.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 2:59 AM UTC
I have outgrown many things.
I have outgrown relatives who gladly offer criticism but not support.
I have outgrown my need to meet family's unrealistic expectations of me.
I have outgrown girls who wear masks and secretly rejoice at my mistakes.
I have outgrown shrinking myself for those who are intimidated by my intelligence and outspoken nature both.
I have outgrown friends who cannot celebrate my accomplishments.
I have outgrown people who conveniently disappear whenever life gets a little dark.
I have outgrown those who take pleasure in gossiping and spreading negativity.
I have outgrown dull,meaningless conversations that feel forced.
I have outgrown those who don't take a stand against ignorance and injustice.
I have outgrown trying to please everyone.
I have outgrown society constantly telling me I'm not beautiful,smart, or worthy enough to achieve anything.
I have outgrown my tendency to fill my mind with self doubt and insecurity decades ago.
I have outgrown trying to find reasons not to love my humble self.
I have outgrown anything and anyone that does not enrich the essence of my soul.
I have outgrown many things and I've never felt freer.
~Poem by Chanda Kaushik
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 5:27 AM UTC
outgoing?
I'd say outspoken
never been arbitrary
or overbearing-
just vocal
my passion runs deep
and pours out
excited
overflowing
when it finds
another soul to share it with
the energy
others direct towards me
I absorb
and like a mirror
reflect it back towards them
the energy
that rests inside me
is like water
waiting
for an outside force
to heat me up
excite
my molecules
or
to cool me down
mellow
the chaos inside me
making me stable
making me solid
if being an extrovert
makes me
popular and
domineering,
a fun-loving,
party animal
who lacks introspection,
tell me why
I always choose
to isolate myself
why
my few friends I do have
I keep at a distance
except when I force myself
to enjoy their company
once or twice
in a year
why
I am easily talked over
my words drowned out
ignored
like background noise
my input
apbrubtly halted
as others drive over it
making it no more
than the dust
their tires kick up
why I let them
talk over me
rather than raise my voice
why I would rather
read in solitude
than go to a party
or play a video game
rather than socialize
why
would I choose
to ponder existence
over
existing with others
extroverted
means I get my energy
from external events
rather than the internal
I am not a synonym
for gregariousness
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 1:20 AM UTC
Plumped rouge with pigment
her lip fills to graze the ********
intent to disquiet the likes of de Sade
autografted with ocular detachment
should a Marquis wish to harness
the song of the morning
within a bandolier of Seine
to ensnare any bustled Persephone
gilted by discharge of ions
into a ménage of torment
through the Porte des Lions.
Hers is the tincture of doxy
caramelized and debrided of naivety,
empowered by the eve of invention,
swollen to curves and grounded in Paris.
Illumination defies pervasion
down to every gear and pulley
she has hushed through mechanization
and lulled by steam,
swaging a cacophony of flickers
encased in glass by the Lady’s watch,
where every rivet of her plate glisters silken
reverberation in cascade,
elegant, caged, and towering,
outspoken in silence,
ever challenging the Champ de Mars.
"Paris by Gaslight," written by Dionne Charlet, is the title poem to be featured in the upcoming steampunk anthology Paris by Gaslight, the third anthology in the By Gaslight Series from New Orleans small press Black Tome Books. Look for the first two collections of poems and short stories set in Victorian Times, New Orleans by Gaslight (ISBN 9780615801186) and Cairo by Gaslight (ISBN 9781516961528). Both collections feature poetry by Charlet, under the pseudonym Dionne Cherie.
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 2:44 PM UTC
You mumblers and raspers
Of resp'rat'ry rattle:
Open your throats!
Forsake ye! the gaspers,
You quoters of cattle
And prattle of goats!
Or lay ye with horses
Whose tongue ne'er divorces
Those ivory choppers,
Those sibilant stoppers;
You lispers: beware,
Whether stallion or mare,
While you nibble your oats!
Stop your speech-stumbling!
Go suckle an udder
You dizzy, damp calfs!
Restrain your talk-tumbling,
And swallow your stutter
Nor utter foul laughs!
You outspoken nags
Mimic bolt-broken stags
As you bleed allegations
Down paths of my patience
And clatter your antlers;
What heavy-hoofed ranters
For no one's behalf!
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 5:06 PM UTC
Tangible sin, its what i'm looking for
let the rants and raves begin
cause tongues of fire can never settle
for a one line poem or a break in tone
they need the blood red of wine in their glass
these aristocrats drinking from the lower class
we are far too outspoken to speak of silence
that's something only the seculars teach
Maddness, now there's an idea i can get behind
Imagine ideas like countries
nuclear weapons at their highest state of alert
what we believe is what we once held true
and whose finger is this on the trigger?
then eventually, yes
the tyrants will get voted into office
doing away with terms and treaties of old
eventually you'll get two shoes per person
as you read your generation's scripture like truth
from the nearest stall bathroom wall
for a good time call, God
cause he doesn't charge you per hour
well, only on sunday mornings nine to noon
but for everlasting life who wouldn't drink that elixir?
just one more broken promise
cause Buddha told me i'd be back again
back again to serve in the same platoon of freedom fighters
Nov 1, 2011
Nov 1, 2011 at 11:57 PM UTC
Be bold
For the sake of
Beauty's presence
Born of a child's smile
A lover’s laugh
A raging current
Cutting across
Foaming waters
Be bold
Outspoken for a token
Of love’s flowering affection
Of hopes name
That scars the heart
But tells only truth
Be bold
When others falter
Failing to offer
Kindness
Because they are scared
Uncertain, or simply
Never cared
Be bold
To be alive
While you live
Knowing you will die
Be bold
Soaring to help strangers fly
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC
Outspoken but not obnoxious
Kind but not weak
Friendly but not obsequious
Deep but grounded
Loving but discerning
Intelligent but not pretentious
Focused but with perspective
You smile with your heart, not your face
And I will always smile back
Giggling like a tickled baby
Jun 12, 2010
Jun 12, 2010 at 7:32 PM UTC
She feels like her world is broken
She's always felt she's been outspoken
She's trying to send the signs
To say she's not alright
No one can see her pain
(Behind mascara eyes)
No one knows the battle she fights inside
(Behind mascara eyes)
And no one looks beyond her smile
They would see she is crying
On the inside
(Behind mascara eyes)
Can you feel the hurt deep down?
Your trying to keep strong
Your trying to hold the faith
But with every hit
Another part of you breaks
Yeah you feel like fading
Skies are turning grey
And the suns been blocked out
by the cold hard rain
But after the darkness
There is a new dawn
There are bluer skies
On the other side of this storm
Come on your gonna get through it
You know that you can do it
We are gonna get through it.
Situations a rise
And you feel like your life
Is like a runaway train
And your never gonna catch up
With yourself again
You've felt the doubt
Like your trapped in a hole
And you can't get out
You thought you were grown up
But you haven't done that much
And sometimes it feels like your not good enough
So you feel like giving up
Yeah you feel like fading
Skies are turning grey
And the suns been blocked out
by the cold hard rain
But after the darkness
There is a new dawn
There are bluer skies
On the other side of this storm
Come on your gonna get through it
You know that you can do it
We are gonna get through it.
You've been cut down to size
Way to many times
You've thrown your heart out on the line
Only to get rejected or denied
They say it's all apart of life
You wish upon stars every night
Holding on hope that it can
only get better
Your looking for that smile
You haven't felt in a while
That one true happiness
That you felt as a child
Yeah you feel like fading
Skies are turning grey
And the suns been blocked out
by the cold hard rain
But after the darkness
There is a new dawn
There are bluer skies
On the other side of this storm
Come on your gonna get through it
You know that you can do it
We are gonna get through it.
©2018 Written By Benji James
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 9:53 PM UTC
Burn her at the stake
She speaks up for herself
Throw her off a cliff
She'll fall through the ground, to hell
Burn her, she's too outspoken
She questions society
Burn this ****** witch
Lest others follow her lead.
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
From blood, to bone, to ash
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Rebellious piece of trash
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Not even her teeth will remain
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Until normalcy is regained
Burn her at the stake
Because she won't submit
Burn her at the stake
Until she lives how we like it
Burn her at the stake
Shun her until her day to die
Burn her at the stake
We want to hear her fry
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
From blood, to bone, to ash
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Rebellious piece of trash
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Not even her teeth will remain
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Until normalcy is regained
And should any choose to walk her way
Well see to it they perish
We live out lives in constant fear
That they'll come to their senses
***And should any choose to walk her way
We'll see to it they perish
We live our lives in constant fear
That they'll come to their senses***
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
From blood, to bone, to ash
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Rebellious piece of trash
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Not even her teeth will remain
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Until normalcy is regained
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 8:43 PM UTC
I’m nervous, simply waiting for you to snap me
like a twig.
I’ve bundled my feelings, my loves and hates,
all those outspoken words
and all those silenced words,
into a little gift-wrapped, topped-with-a-bow
gift
for you.
You will accept it.
It is what comes after, when it reaches your nimble hands,
that frightens me.
You weave your skill so well,
like knitted discord inside, I can feel
when I reach in to see if I’m all still there.
Under many dark moons,
you leave your shadow to keep me company.
It walks beside me, keeping my head whirring on into the
small hours of the darkened dawn when
I see it
at the foot of my bed
watching me sleep.
You told it to crawl into all the tight spaces
inside me,
with me.
It reminds me of you, endlessly, always,
breathing your name as I surrender to closing my eyes,
vulnerable lying before your peering shadow,
it could stop me breathing in a heartbeat.
Only you, sweet devil, can keep me falling so hard
so fast,
shedding myself trailing from your bed to mine.
I linger in the smell of you wrapped around my clothes,
taken off in a hurry as your words,
sizzling spitfire,
hand-made cuts and invisible haemorrhage
shatter me to pieces
easy enough for you to pick and keep in
your bed until you are finally finished
with me.
All I feel is the burden of myself,
when I really have no burden to hold.
I’m a phone running out of battery when you need it most.
Filled with a frenzied panic, a slap of frustration passes your face
to use against me all that bottled irritation.
If I don’t touch you back you will
wield it against me,
blame for insensitivity, a slowly seeping coldness
I can fight off under your roaming form
in a shady light of fear.
Your emotional abuse is a character.
It has a body, limbs and hollow face and it can bruise me
with a single touch.
I never leave my body open with you.
And to what end do I let you paint me with your manipulations,
your scheming tactics
your irrevocable evidence I’m worth nothing more for you;
like a girl’s doll known to be too pretty,
putting sticky residue inside their goals at night.
So use me with your infamous fingers.
I dare you, do it.
Again.
Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 2:22 AM UTC
"I'm sorry." That singular phrase. I hate it, it makes me feel weak.
No one ever means it. They should give up and just not speak.
It's a habit of mine to say sorry for something I'm not sorry for.
I'm not sorry, not one bit. I hate that it is part of me, it's an eyesore.
Please stop my pity parties. I can't contain them, please help me.
I'm sorry I'm like this. I'm sorry I'm the one making an apology.
I can't stop saying sorry. It's an essential part of my internal code.
It seems that I'm sorry is the only phrase my brain wants to upload.
I'm incredibly sorry and I don't really know why?
Maybe I'm apologizing for something useless that I identify?
I have many questions for my sorry brain, why am I sorry? What for?
I see this as a negative quality that no one will ever adore.
I keep saying sorry, I don't know how to stop it, please help me
I can't stop, help me get rid of this depressing and pitiful apology
I hate myself for feeling this weak, I'm definitely not strong
I hate that my feeling of strength always feels wrong.
I can't stand this feeling of being unwanted wherever I go
My tears say I'm sorry and they fall like glistening snow
I'm sorry that each time I say it, I start crying uncontrollably
I'm sorry that you can't really help me, it will go on inconsolably.
I will always be sorry, there's no changing that fact
I always apologize to people only when I'm feeling attacked
You can't help me in any way possible, I'm forever broken
No one can hear me scream because I will always be outspoken.
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 9:11 AM UTC
so this is where it ends
still drunk, in a shabby room with half full bottles of liquor
last night stuck in your hair,
glitter like snowflakes of a single night out’s winter
this is where it ends
heart broken, shattered in two
hung up and longing two years after
his name a poison on your lips you refuse to stop tasting
this is where it ends
wallowing in dreadful self-loathing,
contemplating your idle blues, your black hole of sadness
the smile you wear is but a painful reminder
this is where it ends
with your small group of girls, fellow high heeled warriors
lip glossed and pretty, shiny hair and perfect skin
dressed to the nines, miraculously young and fearless
intelligent, outspoken and strong and far from empty
too broken to do anything but go on
more nights will be filled with hollow, tinkling laughter
more nights will be spent lying on floors than waiting in towers
all because you forgot them all
your forgot his harsh whisper
you made up you mind and decided
“i love me”
and laughed at the sheer terror,
the insanity, the undeniable ridiculousness
at the end there is just you
this is where it ends
this is where it ends
This is where it ends
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 3:33 AM UTC
Spirit and matter
The light and the dark
left and right brained
the Ying and the Yang
an outspoken mute
a chaotic plan
mortal and eternal
a pacifist Warrior
ambidextrous hands
A foot on the ground
A head in the clouds
Silence and sound
A teacher a pupil
Reserved with no Scruples
A genius a fool
slave and the master
man I am God
feline and dog
reason and Insanity
A well planned Calamity
I am BALANCE
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 8:47 PM UTC
the quietest words are the loudest
knowledge and open eyes to the real world
through prose i speak and speak alone
nobody encouraged me to be outspoken
i was a shut-in, trapped for months
like anne frank, with only power in writing
i found power in words, nobody taught me
how to live, but i learned how to exist in
a world lost in it's sin, a mediocre society
lost in it's power of indulgences and faith
with paper and pen, i can capture honesty
the most brutal tragedy, the most beautiful love
i've never felt intense fear, like hanging off a cliff fear
but i've been pushed to that cliff one too many times
i've always been scared of heights and losing someone
but my fears are all in my head, my heart is power
my heart is courage, my heart is love
it is the first and last thing i have
- kra
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
~ Beaming with radiance, confident with a luminous glow
Full of life, your high spirits will continuously grow
~ Your optimism shows like a great beam of light
Filled with positive energy, your mind and soul are bright
~ Versatility mixed with eagerness, you’ll never be without
Simply travel and explore whenever faced with great doubt
~ Your honest spirit keeps you balanced, and your mind outspoken
Not worried about what the people see, you keep your mind open
~ The tolerance you acquire is a trait to be remembered
It may be confused with appearing judgmental
~ Always entertained, with your creative outlook on life
If things don’t go as planned, you continue on with your night
~ While restless at times, every atmosphere stays positive
Through consequences due to risks you take, you always stay confident
~ Never let the consequences impact you with negativity
Adventures are meant to be made, throughout each and every vicinity
~Meagan Williams
1.21.13
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
The first thought in my head
At the sight of the two together
Was, 'they don't match, but they fit,'
Like the beginning of Fall meeting the end of Summer.
Bright and outspoken
Warm summer days
Beside the quiet thoughtfulness
Of Autumn's leisurely change.
It's beautiful and intriguing
It's not meant for paper alone
So I'll shout it from the highest mountains
And write it in the most-heard songs.
Summer's heat speaks of joy
Though the nights talk of pain
And through the smiles and laughter
Is evidence of life's strain.
Autumn is quiet but opinionated
And riddled with hurricanes
But the light of Summer
Will never let Autumn fall again.
Summer writes of beautiful chaos
Autumn writes of simple existence
They don't match, but they fit
I'm amazed every time I see them.
See, the first thought in my head
At the sight of the two together
Was, 'they don't match, but they fit,"
Like the beginning of Fall meeting the end of Summer.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC