"overlooked" poems
The hot hug of Aries
Passionate hug of Taurus
Witty hug of Gemini
Lingering hug of Cancer
Snug hug of Leo
Ardent hug of Virgo
Romantic hug of Libra
Caring hug of Scorpio
Classic hug of Sagittarius
Intimate hug of Capricorn
Articulate hug of Aquarians
Compassionate hug of Pisces
All hugs are well placed
No hug is to be overlooked!
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 5:01 AM UTC
Pain is...
Being able to imagine a future with him
Someone who will never love you.
Pain is...
Loneliness
Sadness
Being overlooked
Wishing for the impossible
Seeing everyone run from you.
Pain is spirit breaking,
Tear jerking torment.
That's what pain is.
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 5:26 PM UTC
824
[first version]
The Wind begun to knead the Grass—
As Women do a Dough—
He flung a Hand full at the Plain—
A Hand full at the Sky—
The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees—
And started all abroad—
The Dust did scoop itself like Hands—
And throw away the Road—
The Wagons—quickened on the Street—
The Thunders gossiped low—
The Lightning showed a Yellow Head—
And then a livid Toe—
The Birds put up the Bars to Nests—
The Cattle flung to Barns—
Then came one drop of Giant Rain—
And then, as if the Hands
That held the Dams—had parted hold—
The Waters Wrecked the Sky—
But overlooked my Father’s House—
Just Quartering a Tree—
[second version]
The Wind begun to rock the Grass
With threatening Tunes and low—
He threw a Menace at the Earth—
A Menace at the Sky.
The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees—
And started all abroad
The Dust did scoop itself like Hands
And threw away the Road.
The Wagons quickened on the Streets
The Thunder hurried slow—
The Lightning showed a Yellow Beak
And then a livid Claw.
The Birds put up the Bars to Nests—
The Cattle fled to Barns—
There came one drop of Giant Rain
And then as if the Hands
That held the Dams had parted hold
The Waters Wrecked the Sky,
But overlooked my Father’s House—
Just quartering a Tree—
19.1k
748
Autumn—overlooked my Knitting—
Dyes—said He—have I—
Could disparage a Flamingo—
Show Me them—said I—
Cochineal—I chose—for deeming
It resemble Thee—
And the little Border—Dusker—
For resembling Me—
17.7k
Freed from the blackness that fills my nights
Awoken from the nightmares plaguing my mind
For a short stretch only to receive a brief taste
Holding on for I know she must make haste
Like the foggy windows on a summers night
So have I felt the warmth of another
Never wanting to leave her comfort
Never wanting to see the light
Like roses at the peak of their bloom
Only to enjoy briefly till death ensues
Withered away and dying as they are
So am I breaking as we have to part
Joy is a bitter taste
For it never stays to long
You hold on until you are unable
Until it leaves you withdrawn
Am I but just another face
Another notch upon your bed
Scattered amongst the crowd
Overlooked and overdrawn
For if I know what is true
But I wish it were a lie
To face another second
As I feel my dreams die
On my own I must go
For you’ve taken to much
What I wish I would receive
I only gave to another
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
t*he girl
she makes the world so beautiful
she had come to rule
but she was never given the chances equal
she was forced to silence
forced to smile
give those people another glance
even when she will be overlooked this while
the girl did it all
she made big from real small
learned the smooth and the rough
but she was given another bluff
her, she was thrown around
laughed and joked about
but she smiled throughout
her tears for herself when she drowned
she went ahead, even behind at times
she fought for herself at every step
her thoughts evident in every line
well thought, did have a bite.
the girl,
her success was a victory
not hers alone, from all bulls
she rose to make a history*.
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
I had built a wall
Layer by layer
Mortar and stone
Until it was so high
And so strong
I thought no one could break it.
But I overlooked something
Because when I was done
There you were.
You just slipped right past my wall
Without even noticing its presence.
I was too surprised to push you out.
And then a funny thing happened
I was happy
And at peace with the world
And reconsidering my wall
Reconsidering
What I was protecting myself from.
I didn't have much of myself
To give away
But I gave you some of what was left
But not so much
That it would destroy me
To have to take it back.
Because I'd been though that before
I gave away so much
And still most of it is gone.
I've been hurt into being
More cautious with my feelings
Than I used to be.
And it turned out to be
A good thing
A blessing inside a curse
Because when you gave that piece back
It hurt
But I knew it could have been worse.
Because you can't break something
That's already been broken
By another.
There wasn't any part of me I gave you
That you could destroy
I didn't give you that.
I keep my heart close to me
Because it belongs to another
You were only borrowing what I had left.
So I will be fine
Because I've been through worse
And you are not my Kryptonite.
Oct 20, 2011
Oct 20, 2011 at 12:54 AM UTC
critical thinking
as you call it;
that which
I seem to lack.
need to
improve
upon.
and I agree in ways.
you said,
it is observing
the situation,
the pieces,
I have at hand,
and deducing
the best possible way
in my knowledge
to make them
fit together.
sounds
quite simple -
common sense.
simple,
if my mind
ran as smoothly as your own.
a trait of yours
I admire greatly.
a trait of others
I am envious of.
but critical thinking
is different when
my mode of
thinking
is not the same
I do not see
my surroundings;
my life,
my reality,
as cogs and gears
that progress
this existence.
I admire
the way you,
and others
pick up on the
little
small
hidden artifacts
that allow yourself
to discover
the best
possible way
to proceed.
if I were to say,
you noticed
the overlooked
and finer details,
I would say
I notice-
no-
I experience awareness
of it's entirety.
how it feels
to me
and how I feel
about it.
if our
individual
thought processes
were placed
in an ever changing river,
whose currents
vary
and are unpredictable?
yours
would be
picking up the driftwood
the sticks,
and objects in grasp.
and as the current carries it,
it would be constructing
a raft
to stay afloat:
safe
and
in the most
comfortable way,
so it could eventually
construct
something suitable
and sturdy
to rest upon,
and relax with content,
while enjoying
the splashes
and warm sunlight
from a safe spot.
instead of
deducing the situation
as yours did,
my thought process
would drift along
the same river,
letting the current
take it under -
if that is where
it felt like going.
finding logs
and debris
to hang on to
when the current
became too much
and it needed a break.
yours may be
high and dry,
but mine has felt
the pebbles
along the bottom
of this river -
the depth and pressure
almost frightening,
but the experience
in itself
always beautiful.
mine floats upon it's back,
like an otter,
enjoying the sunlight
as yours does,
experiencing
this journey through
the rivers path.
and maybe,
if the current gets rough,
if mine is struggling,
it will find the hand
of yours
lifting it up
to keep it safe
until the rocky waters
have passed.
I experience
as I feel,
which may not
be the best approach
all of the time.
but with this,
I am able to
feel
what I believe
is the best choice,
based
on my experience
of the whole.
you make me
feel
and want to
try
new ways of thinking,
new ways
that may help.
you are always pushing
pushing me
to do more
to be more;
which is just one
of the many reasons
why I love you.
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 3:49 AM UTC
The heroes of legend
So great and powerful
Their stories will live
Well beyond their years
But what about the unsung one
The companion to the great hero
Does he not deserve praise
Destiny may not have chosen him
Fate must have overlooked him
But he still fought the great evil
Slayed the vile demon
And most importantly
He protected the hero
Nothing can be done alone
Too often is this forgotten
The focus is put on one
Who did not chose
But was chosen
What about the other
The one that did chose
He chose to risk everything
There was nothing great at work
Forcing him to chose
It was a simple
Yet immense decision
The stories of the companions are great
While the hero was scared
The companion was there to comfort
When the hero had doubt
The companion was there to inspire
When the hero fell
The companion was there to prop him up
Sometimes the greater hero isn’t the destined one
It is the one that stood by the hero
The choice they made
Never regretting it
Only pushing forward to another’s goal
Never again look over the companion
For something important will be missed
That may be lost forever
Mar 1, 2010
Mar 1, 2010 at 4:34 PM UTC
Sunflowers are filled with stories
and power that no individual discusses.
Therefore no one understand why
I love them so much.
Reminding me of early morning sunrises.
The moment when the sun is just
above the trees. With a hue so bright,
they instill happiness into my soul.
Growing so tall they could reach God,
they cannot get enough of His love.
They will never stop trying to reunite
with their Creator because no one
loves them like He.
Representing the incarnation of Clytie
over the loss of Apollo. They say
the grieving of his absence brought her
into her next life and now she only
faces the sun, waiting for his return.
I saw them as my sunshine.
Their rays giving my spirit a new life.
My source of nourishment, they were.
Restoring my soul of the negativity
I came across. The Apollo to my Clytie.
I stood by for their return with hopes of
their absence being make believe,
knowing that they would never come again.
According to most men,
I already ask for too much.
With efforts unnoticed and
potential overlooked, I knew
I was never appreciated enough
to receive flowers.
53114
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
I’ve been here all the while.
Like an old truck stop…
A dwelling full of life..hardly noticed.
One day your spirit tank runs dry
and you must stop and stay for a while.
The once overlooked dwelling helps through filling
the tanks of those left empty handed
The other spirit leaves, thankful, for not being left out in “no where land”
to die stranded.
The exchange is of care with no need of personal gain
Simply “I’ll come back to visit” and “to bring some friends with me.”
To the stop that helped a stranded visitor
Return on their way
Simply out of care to see to it that they are able to continue,onward,
to another well traveled day.
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
Oh sleepless night
What a trick on me you play!
For the reason I cannot sleep
Is because I anticipate the day
We build our day up
To have it elapse at night
But how too often a time I experience
A continuance through the night
Oh how unfair to me you see
For nighttime is a break much overlooked
Because I walk through the day quite sleepily
Which is difficult in a day so overbooked
Sleeping figures
Rejuvenating minds
Your mind is cultivating in peace
While my face is forming lines
Oh how I wish I didn’t get so worked up
I expected this to happen
Which ironically is the reason
My tiredness has been dampened
I lay in bed, ready
Ready to try this out
A pleasant sleep is all I wanted
Without completely passing out
How I get so jealous when
You lay there and drift to rest
While I’m dealing with two polar issues--
Either abruptly collapse into sleep or else from it slowly digress
Oh sleepless night, you tease me so
You fool with me and upset me so
For when thinking of tomorrow I surely know
I’m not going to be as lively as my potential.
It’s like I’m a hobo on Fifth Ave
Looking at the rich not realizing what they have
I get excited over spare change
While you collect your pay checks again and again
So let’s face it, tomorrow I’ll be miserable
And I’ll look forward to when the clock strikes night
But then the hours I have will become considerable
So I’ll lay there restlessly and drift away just before the light.
So I’ll get a taste of what sleeps like
But I’ll never get to experience it right.
Oh you cruel, mean sleepless night!
Where dwells your brother so known as the “Goodnight”?
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
-The Neglected woman.
I was an overlooked
Dahlia,
Trampled without a care
For my welfare.
Then you plucked me
And replanted me within
Your keep.
With care,
You nourished an invisible outcast.
At last!
Someone gives a
**** about me!
Aug 6, 2021
Aug 6, 2021 at 9:55 PM UTC
Iron which has been exposed to the rain, is likely to become rusty.
Weakening, brcoming fragile along the way, changing colours.
Because it couldn't resist the cruel, cold, pungent, sharp rain,
which has been brought by onimous, dark, clouds.
Those have come to claim the heavens, in malice, for themselves as they spread their offspring, letting it fall to the earth, fertilising it.
Once standing proud, the iron faced the weather carelessly, brave,
in such sense that it might have looked intimidating, impressive and
of course noble to some degree.
But for now it has aged, has become frail, feeble and slender.
Distorting its structure until suddenly it is not capable of holding
itself together, falling back down to the earth from which it came.
With enough care and treatment, such a fate would be avoidable,
But it is overlooked, chosen to be replaced instead of getting enough attention and so the metal decays in its oxidation, through time.
Until all of it has become a soft, crumbling powder.
Ruined by the simple raindrops, coming from a stormy day.
~ Umi
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 3:26 AM UTC
A love where you’re
Ignored,
Unseen,
Forgotten,
Competing,
Overlooked,
Hoping,
Wishing,
Praying,
Is nothing.
The worst kind of love is where
You’re waiting…
For that one message
For all these not to happen
All over again.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
She hates that she is a woman
The putrefying weakness perceived in the curves of her body
The naivete shown in her blues
With the unintentional flutter of butterfly lashes
That refuse to meet the glances of those that pass by
The fear-- Of what?
That stereotypes are true?
She doesn't even know
And it sickens her.
She sickens herself.
She hates that she is white
The blandest vanilla
The marble statue
Somehow revered
Worshiped
Privileged
But simultaneously overlooked
Boring
Unimportant
The Caucasian mongrel
In light of the fact that her People
Have no proud history
Which she can name herself heir to
She hates that she is middle class
Not poor enough to struggle
Not rich enough to be free
Just situated dully in the middle
A footnote in the statistic
That they tell her she must use
To identify herself
She hates that her belief system
Has to be called by a name
That she has to choose
To be a part of a group
As part of her "identity"
And she is not allowed
To stand by her own integrity
She hates that she is American
The pudgy, loud-mouthed, laterally-speaking nation
The brashly jumps into conflict
Guns blazing
As its political system decays
In the stench of its overwhelming debt and corruption
But in truth
She hates
That they force her
To whittle her essence down
Into Gender, Race, Class, Religion, and Nationality
A vomit-inducing statistic
As if there was nothing more to her
Than the facts surrounding her existence
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 6:11 PM UTC
The shoes were red,
and stood at 7 inches high,
perfect to look sophisticated,
and to feel like she was touching the sky.
Everyone criticized her,
because they thought she wore them to get attention,
and co-workers would confront her,
to give her a ***** mention.
Only the people don't understand,
because she feels self conscious of her height,
and the heels are the only opportunity,
to make her feel alright.
. . .
The shoes were brown,
covered with mud and dirt,
shoe laces tangled in a mess,
and didn't have any way to avert.
People overlooked him,
when he wanted something,
because they thought he didn't care,
but who are they to be judging!
The truth is,
in fact he did care,
but didn't have enough money,
to buy nice shoes to wear.
. . .
The shoes were neon,
like the color of the sun,
they had bright shoes laces,
that he wears when he runs.
People thought they were ugly,
because they were off brand,
and they lacked the character,
that all the cool shoes had.
But really he was trying,
to just fit in,
but they would reject him,
every time he begins.
. . .
Be kind,
for everyone is fighting a conflict,
that you know nothing about,
so don't judge nor depict.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 11:51 AM UTC
My life is composed of things I didn't ask for,
it has been overtaken by tears, sadness, and blades.
I don't know how this monstrous disease took over, it just did.
It was fine one day and the next- wiped from my memory.
I wish I could figure it out but
all I know is I am closed up tight like a shoe box filled with memories-
I am here, but I am stuffed away, ignored, and overlooked.
You ask why I have these issues and I can't tell you for fear of rejection
so I tear my skin open just to acquire the feeling of being alive
and I don't dare tell someone for they will say I am weak and pathetic.
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
Fate, the explanation for many circumstances
The reason we meet our love,
The thing that made us succeed or fail.
Such adored is this word.
Only to ponder and figure
It is only a complex equation.
An unknown set of variables
Making the possibilities for every event.
Just one variable may cancel another
Most of the variables may be overlooked or just ignored.
Just do the algorithm and see what it means,
You will see how the other side of the equation might be imaginary
The constant will always remain in the formula
So which variable is the one
That when summed makes the equation a true statement?
The one variable that makes it all right?
When will this variable be revealed?
When will the solution be in the palm of my hands?
How many variables must I remove from this equation,
To find the one that matters?
When you look at it I may be a simple algebraic equation,
Or it may be a complex duodecimal polynomial.
I'm not going to give up solving it,
But I'm getting a headache from it and I love math!
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 10:30 PM UTC
Time stamped messages
Instant gratification
Checked in
Logged on
Time stamps
I C U
Instant disappointment
Overlooked, ignored
Time stamps
Phone updates
Notifications
Instant insanity
Time stamps
Back check lies
I C U
Checked in elsewhere
When, where, why
Time stamps
Insomnia
Where R U
Ah, I C U
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 1:53 PM UTC
Upper East Side
The Hamptons
Aspen, Colorado
The plastic people
Follow each other
Moving in herds
Like cattle to the
Slaughter
Drifting
Floating
Shifting focus
From one charity event
To another
Whatever’s trendy
Whatever’s fashionable
Whatever’s happ’ning
Whatever’s the need
Tainted new artists
Society’s rejects
The film-maker who fits in with
The flavor of the month
The disease or the cause
That captures the moment
Stigmas overlooked
Deformities relieved
By one hyper exertion
By one pseudo good deed
Changing bedrooms
Changing partners
New alliances
Noblesse oblige
Mrs. Astor’s
Four hundred
Reinvented forever
Reinvented with fervor
On the edge
Of hypocrisy
Keeping up with the Jones’s
Maintaining the houses
Paris, Rome, Cote du Jura
Malibu, Palm Beach
Couture fashion
Madison, Rodeo
Worth avenues united
Avenues of the liege
Location, location, location
The right address unspoken
Dinner in the right places
Sporting events to be seen
Three martini luncheons
Halcion evenings
Business is business
Where money’s retrieved
Look to plastic people
For fashionable guidance
No matter the moment
No matter the need
Remember to catch them
While jetting to Santa Barbara
Saint Maarten, San Troupe
San Marco, warp speed
They live in their milieu
Can’t function outside it
Can’t follow a shadow
That others believe
It’s easy to find them
They leave behind footprints
But barely a mem’ry
Or singular creed
Other than finding
The latest in fashion
The latest persona
Or new plastic breed
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 8:19 AM UTC
All the stars as one in unison
Make up the galaxy we're in,
Floating around a white celestial
Being on this planetary ship.
We'll wind up in the "path of Gods,"
A self-made volunteer appears with an
"Informative" plan to share "love's book,"
To speak of "things we'll find on this journey,"
No future planned stone can be pre-overlooked.
And in the skies float the particles
That started out light years away
Have finally made their touchdown,
Leaving the express universal highway
A rocky chunk of history found it's way to town.
A story that is so ancient, so in tune with time,
That it even has developed a star-struck
Lightning fire in the backyard of galactic life,
And what sprouted from the ashy rubble is us,
Eyes hands and feet and all to experience,
To explore the many creations of natural love.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 9:27 PM UTC
Hey guys sorry i haven’t been active recently!
|i havent been active because i have no motivation|
I’m so excited to show y’all my new content!
|everything i make is overlooked and unloved|
I hope you guys enjoyed this cover!
|they hate it already|
Make sure to Like and Comment for more!
|theyve already scrolled past it. i’m just another post on their home page|
I’m so grateful for all of my followers!
|the few that i have only follow me out of pity|
I’ve been going through a rough patch at the moment so thanks for all the support!
|nobody cares|
Here’s a drawing of @popular.artist and @talented_musician !
|ill never be as talented. ill never have as many followers|
FOLLOWING @retro_tears:
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|im not worth it|
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 7:37 AM UTC
brown eyes are underrated I've always thought
but never knew till I met you
they made me feel what even blue crystal eyes could never do
his brown eyes had a familiar feel, like that book you once remembering reading
they make me feel like I've found home
how beautiful is the language of the eyes
I found something special lurking there inside
so genuine, so real, a more realistic painting of the surreal
so i here encourage the notion brown eyes are an overlooked jewel
i say this with certainty as I'm staring straight at you
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 3:08 AM UTC
TRUMP
i never said a word about you because
would it be rude to call you an embarrassment?
you're everything i'm not and you're
everything i fear in a person but
tonight i thought about you and for the first time
since i blocked your number that night i was
supposed to come over i kind of maybe sort of
missed your touch but i didn't miss you
i loved you when you were inside of me but
could barely stand to be in the same room with you otherwise
you made my heart pound like a bad anxiety attack after
seeing your 47 in math and thinking woah i might not graduate
and realizing even worse: with a grade that low i'll never make it
to outer space (which means we'll be stuck on the same planet
forever no matter how hard i try to rid myself of you you will
always linger between the cracks in the sidewalks and broken
picket fences you are suburbia's biggest fear)
POOH
you taught me that lust never leads to love
and you stole my favourite book. i wonder
if you ever read it but you stopped talking to me
out of the blue, apparently i had done something wrong?
i mean,
that's a first
i dream about you more often than i'd like to admit
sometimes you drop in just to say hi but most of the time
you call me a ***** and tell me you wish i were dead but
no matter what you heard about me i swear to God i'm pure
or maybe God was right when he burned my skin alive and
watched me become ashes in the middle of nowhere with no one
around to hear me scream for help, have i sinned too much to be
let in to Heaven?
******
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
SIRIUS
history repeats and i've been stuck in this loop
since i can remember i fall in love with the same
person over and over again i fall in love with you
and you fall in love with him and i stop believing
in love all together but i fall in love with someone
else because they remind me of you and i hope you
think of me from time to time and miss me as much
as i miss you as i try to fall out of love but it never
works the way it worked so easily for you, first love
doesn't mean forever love because the first is never
the last and everyone said so but i was hoping that
maybe one day we'd get married in the garden down
the hill by your house that overlooked Lake Ontario
or the ocean as you liked to call it because you could
never distinguish the difference between blues
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 2:05 AM UTC