"overrated" poems
That diamond smile
Your diamond teeth
Your diamond tongue
Your diamond fingertips
Your diamond wrists
Your diamond eyes
and your diamond thighs
How you sparkle so
much you brighten
my days
you glow inside
while I shatter black fluid out of my eyes
shards of liquid piercing
through my palms
I can't remember the good feeling I had
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 7:17 PM UTC
I don't care who said crying was overrated, who gave you the ******* right to control the tear ducts of another human .
A human shows emotion through tears , laughter , smiles. The human face has 24 different emotions yet the water stains on her cheeks was never stated as one .
The stains of mascara running down her cheeks , dripping on to neck , her nose sniffling up the excess embarrassment .
I told her to stop trying to be brave , she had to embrace each feeling as it came , I saw her chest heave up and down in a rapid movement so fast I couldn't keep count.
Her mouth was open , no sound came out , she looked like a fish out of water and person screaming but no sound .
Her hands started to shake her body soon followed next I held her close put her head in between the crook of my face and neck .
I felt the water dripping down my neck to my top I never said a word , never told her to stop.
Even though I just changed my sheets that day I never told her to man up because crying is a source of speech when words are not enough .
She had so much emotion and all she could do was mutter incoherent words ,I think it was " I'm sorry" .
Sorry for what I will never know , she never once asked me to let go and I never did .
For once in her life I gave her an embrace even though she refused because if she didn't feel my comfort I'm not sure what she would do .
I did it because when I need that embrace they all refused to give it , they told me to " **** it up" " be ******* brave" , I soon found comfort in smashing my fist against my bathroom mirror and throwing my mothers jewellery box outside in the rain .
I stopped and I jumped in the mud that had formed and that was when I promised myself , if another person needs my embrace no matter who it was , I sure as ******* hell will give it because crying alone is just no good.
It's no good that others can't see your pain , I encourage you to throw a fit and call names , call them all ******* ***** tell them how worthless they are that when you needed comfort he would rather go sit in the car .
I want you to scream , yell and shout with the tears streaming down your face , show them what expressing yourself is all about.
Darling don't ever hold your tears in , wearing mascara or not ,just always keep a tissue tucked in your sleeve, and wipe your eyes till they are raw with the courage that they need.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
They haunt me when I'm asleep
They don't leave me alone when I'm awake
Tonight I will be stronger than the demons
They wait for me to fall into their land
Where they make me Believe anything they say
Sleep is overrated
Nightmares are underrated
Just a couple of hours until the battle is won
I will not let you take over tonight
Tonight the demons will have to dance alone
I will see the moon until it stops shining
And I will hear them Calling my name
Asking me to dance the dance of Death
Tonight my demons will have to dance alone
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS
it sort of
spills from my tongue,
and makes up my lips.
because everything feels right when we're laying down in bed like this.
I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS
it sort of
shakes in my bones,
and folds over and over inside my head.
because we're both in wedding dresses and i fall in love all over again.
I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS
it sort of
smooths over my skin,
and makes an extra layer of love to drown in.
because this is my life and a girl makes it worth living in.
I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS
Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 9:24 AM UTC
It still smells like human iron in your pool.
There's a crack in the concrete where the bullet stopped.
It still smells like human iron by the side of your pool, there's a stain.
I still can't find where that bullet went.
I always thought that your "love" of the higher life was overrated.
Nobody ever talked about how great it is to be rich as much as you did.
Even though you talked about it so quietly, most of the time.
You spoke a lot about Daisies.
I'm more of a Lillie type of person.
There are a lot of people in New York, Gatsby. Too many people in New York.
New York only needed you, Gatsby, but it looks like New York didn't want you anymore.
That's not sad though, is it?
Carraway's book is like gold. I bookmarked eight of my favorite pages in it with yellow cigarettes. I'm too afraid to smoke them.
When your old mansion was bought I expected to see you as a ghost in it,
you weren't there.
That green light across the bay isn't there anymore, it's red now.
I believe I'm sleeping in the same bedroom you once did.
You aren't one of those ghosts that haunt a house, you haunt a human concept of want.
I wish I'd never bought your house.
I'm going to tear this place down. Along with Nick's old place next door.
The memories here in these empty, furniture filled rooms, are unbearable at best.
Of course they're not my memories, but I'd be a familiar person to you if you knew me.
I smash and break things, and then retreat back into my money and vast carelessness.
Farewell Jay Gatsby.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 3:01 PM UTC
the hardest thing i do as a disabled person
is not
"fight my disability"
we were never at war with one another
like me, it just wants to exist
and so i let it
to some extent
i’ll never “become my disability”
yet i don’t believe it’s a bad thing either
i’ve come to realise that he’s become a part of me
as he’s helped shape my thinking
and maybe even my personality a little bit
i owe all my stubbornness to him
nah
i don’t fight my disability
we’re bffs
the hardest thing i do as a disabled person
is not
"get up every day"
though for a while, i thought it was
getting up is easy
facing the world?
getting easier
i used to blush at the thought of getting a wheelchair
i’d bury my face in my knees and cover my ears with my hands, thinking that if i couldn’t see it or hear it, i wouldn’t need it
i cared too much of what society would see me as
not “normal teenage girl”
"sad confined possibly a teenage girl?"
normal is overrated
and to be honest?
so is society
the hardest thing i do as a disabled person
is not
pretending i’m okay with mainstreaming
dear teachers, “mainstreaming” was never in my vocabulary
pretending?
pfft dear teachers, this is 100% real contentment
IEPs got some getting used to but after 16 years of endless doctors appointments, people in white sterile coats, plastic latex gloves poking, prodding demanding things of me
"mainstreaming"
won’t ever exist in my vocabulary
i know i’m smart
and i know i can do it
so don’t you DARE cry at my graduation
it’d be pretty pathetic if i believed in myself more than you do
the hardest thing i do as a disabled person
is
accepting the realities
i don’t know when i’ll take my last step
i don’t know when my muscles will give out for good
i know that every day i won’t know what’s right in front of me
i know that i’ll never be able to run another mile in my life
and i know that i won’t ever stop dreaming about the things i wish i could do
would love to do
won’t ever do
might do
one day
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 10:50 PM UTC
I’d like to be away
In a world far away
But that won’t escape
The world inside my brain
I’d like to stop the time
Live frozen between the lines
But that won’t bring me closer
To a picture perfect moment
That you and I never had
I want to live on your wavelength
Travel with you
At the speed of light
Penetrating
Any barrier
And travel parallel
To your sweet and endless path
I want to tell you that I love you
Have the courage
To make you mine
Too bad I lost the fight
That was going
Inside my mind
I’m endlessly falling
For someone like you
But I’ll gladly fall forever
If the destination leads to you
I think of you every night
And wonder where you are
Do think of me the same way?
Do you have the same thoughts?
I’m sure one day I’ll meet you
The moment won’t be perfect
But perfection is overrated
I’d rather meet you
In any way
As long as it leads me
To your mellow heart
My sweet nebula
Travel to me
As fast as you can
I’d do the same thing
If I wasn’t stuck behind
But I’m moving on
You’re my motivation
Even if met you I have not
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 12:32 AM UTC
"Be careful who you call a King"
All the romantic girls want a 'knight in shining armour'
All princesses want some noble king to sweep them off their feet
All the bad girls want a rebel who's mean with lots of green
Well... I'm all three
I want the joker
Who can outwit the knight in a fight with only his words
Who can make the king laugh with accents and gestures so absurd
Who can cause the rebel to cry and fly away like a scared little bird
I want the joker
I'm a poet
I need the joker to take away the sadness in the words I write
I need the joker to willingly fight for me with his own life
I need the joker to stand tall and proud, yet admit when he's not right
I need the joker to love me fully, unbiasedly and with all his might
I'm a poet
Knights are overrated
Kings are old and outdated
Rebels are deathly fated
Jokers are an eternity
Cause laughter can surely never die
Jokers are everything
Cause my heart will surely never cry
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
Statistics say
I am smarter than 95% of the people I meet
People say
Intelligence is overrated
Statistics say
I was born into a better situation than 98% of the people I meet
People say
It's not where you start it's where you finish
Statistics say
I will live longer than 94% of the people I meet
People say
Life is fragile
Statistics say
I won't fail
People say
I might
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 9:24 PM UTC
I sit here on the 2nd floor
hunched over in yellow
pajamas
still pretending to be
a writer.
some ****** gall,
at 71,
my brain cells eaten
away by
life.
rows of books
behind me,
I scratch my thinning
hair
and search for the
word.
for decades now
I have infuriated the
ladies,
the critics,
the university
suck-toads.
they all will soon have
their time to
celebrate.
"terribly overrated..."
"gross..."
"an aberration..."
my hands sink into the
keyboard
of my
Macintosh,
it's the same old
con
that scraped me
off the streets and
park benches,
the same simple
line
I learned in those
cheap rooms,
I can't let
go,
sitting here
on this 2nd floor
hunched over in yellow
pajamas
still pretending to be
a writer.
the gods smile down,
the gods smile down,
the gods smile down.
Black Sparrow "New Year's Greeting" 1992
8.6k
Life is colourful
But not in the way I'd like,
Its shades keep changing
From lemon to blue to burgundy,
Feels like I'm living
In a constant state of melancholy.
Tried hard not to stare
At the melody that kept swirling
In front of my eyes
And through my ears,
Sometimes I forgot breathing.
And it trapped me into the deep
Clawed hard to come up from beneath,
But it was hard to hold on
The walls were too steep.
Never thought I'd wish
For a colourless life of black and white,
Of boring creatures and ordinary sight..
Never thought I'd be the one
To want my seeds to sow,
To want my roots to dig deep and grow.
Maybe flowing with the wind
Is not for me,
Free-falling is not the same as flying,
Peter should leave me alone now,
I don't want to end up dying.
Thought I almost saw
Heaven from where I was,
But it lay barren
With no gates or guards,
Or even angels or gods,
Either the books or my mind are lying,
It is overrated to wish for dying.
But I made it through
Somehow I swam back ashore,
Fought the muddied waters that blinded me,
Somehow I found my door.
And to sanity I return,
With lessons and scars that still burn
It's good to look ahead with clarity,
It's good to be back to reality.
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 9:48 PM UTC
In the burning right hand of the bald city,
denizens frame calories and count instagram blessings
while beacons of hope refund inspiration in USADA *** cups.
Abyssinian maids wail over yesterday lovers
who wore Ginsberg’s skirt with less pizzazz
and watched bedbugs **** blood off knee caps
wondering, what if Jesus Christ drove a Nissan?
As bullets of paragraphs fall Vietnamese pesticides on my head,
The dusts off my breath sing homilies
With letters of broken leather whiskey,
For even in the most dishonest jest,
clandestine toothbrushes are overrated
and every first false lie is the only truth.
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 8:02 PM UTC
Hello weary star farer,
You have come a long way,
bumping through every asterism,
wondering if you would one day be
part of an art in the starry night sky.
I am but an old star with a dying heart,
plummeting to knave abyss.
As hope crashes down with me,
I come across you, oh weary star farer.
You took me to dance on the moons of Jupiter.
We sang our lungs out through the milky way.
Suddenly, all the other stars faded,
and giving up was overrated.
Your tired soul ignited mine,
giving birth to love so divine.
Rest now, oh weary star farer.
We are now home in each other's radiance.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 2:06 PM UTC
I was
once potent, now soft
then twisted suddenly
like a baby thrown aloft
"Pull!"
and then shot
bad habits, tendencies
thinking about money
when I haven't got a lot
I used to think I was
pretty good looking
but
my self esteem took a knock
life is about finding your rock
I am
scarred, dangerous
and outright harmless
when I'm stressed out
my love turns me to calmness
overrated like chrome
a blade lacking in sharpness
turning away from peace
and reverting to the darkness
never liked change
always afraid of taking chances
thought I needed help
but I guess that I'm past it
looking for a home because
I was told it's where the heart is
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 2:22 PM UTC
*I lost my innocence in a battle of wits
Over a dinner of boiled rice and fried meats
His debate ground my overrated intelligence to bits
But it wasn't time, I wouldn't call it quits
We went on to the starlit, moonful park
We weren't sightseeing, I had to hit my mark
Everything I said was turned down with a reasonable reason
The more I tried to win the more I kept losing
We walked and talked and I realized
That our supposedly romantic dinner had been politicized
As we stood on my porch and called it a night
His lips touched mine, I didn't put up a fight
I laid a final claim in regards to our banter
His keen eyes widened I'd given him something to ponder
Later that night, I received his call
He asked for a rematch, I smiled, there'd be another date after all*
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 6:26 PM UTC
i've been
reading poetry
ee cummings and--
sylvia plath
pretty pools of words filled with color
--and ducks
charles bukowski is a
***** old man
lots of ***** old
words
and images
but real dirt, not pretend
real's so hard to find
these days
they talk about love like it's
broken--painful--deadly--
always wonderfully beautiful
(like the beautiful snake whose
poison's killing you)
that's not
love
because it's falling asleep with warm breath on the back of your neck and your bed a little too small
because it's laughing so hard that you almost snort macaroni and cheese out your nose
because it's doing laundry and pausing just to notice how your clothes smell like her
because it's waiting alone, imagining how big you'll smile when she comes back - it's always bigger than you think.
because it's knowing that the pain's not part of love, it's part of being human
they don't know
nearly as much as they
think--
they do
i love--
baseball in the park when it's not too hot
(I play shortstop)
chocolate ice cream cones in the hot sun
(dripping down my hand)
flying kites in autumn winds
(the falling leaves make the difference)
sledding through the snow
(and crashing into snowbanks)
i love--
coca-cola
(in the glass bottles)
root beer
(with vanilla ice cream)
7-up
(it's better than sprite)
mountain dew
(caffeine!)
i love--
you
(and the soapy smell after you shower)
you
(making me laugh more)
you
(how much you care about people)
you
(and you let me, too)
that's my proof they
don't know
(what
they're talking about
that is)
so--
i think poetry
is overrated
Jan 25, 2010
Jan 25, 2010 at 10:08 PM UTC
Overrated ******** cheap bitter whine out of mouths of overworked undereducated individuals searching for achievement
Family nosing into business of other family they don't even speak to but need to know who's better off or worse off so most keep in touch for fake reasons
Friends claiming to be friends even though Bobby slept with Joe's sister Kim when Kim had a baby by Bobby's cousin Jim who's sister beat the *** of that ***** Karley for sharing a photo they were in
In a relationship today because you love to watch the haters hate but make 27 statuses about how ****** ain't **** and how you're 3 months late
Hypocritical comments followed by one hundred twenty seven likes
attached to a photo of a kid that died thirteen years ago twice
but to send a prayer or save a life all you have to do is click
LIKE.
I hardly remember the world before
I wonder what the world will be after
Facebook[.]
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 3:03 AM UTC
dear lover,
i miss you. even though i’ve never met you, i can still feel your energy from a thousand miles away.
a face that can make men go to war for you. your smile makes time move slow, everything in the world makes sense. i find comfort in your love and warmth in your presence.
lover. i fell in love with your words, everything you uttered was. beauty personified in words. that deep energetic vibe from your soul makes me want to dance in your. elegance.
i fell in love with your mind, and i fell deep within your subconscious. a trance i was in. you’re my intellectual crush. you had me on my knees, you had me intellectually lovin’ you.
i had a dream we were both dancing to Eros’ beautiful rhythm. nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart, baby don’t think im out to hurt you. not my intention.
i fell in love with you and i never knew. falling in love with you was never my plan. but i guess it was God’s plan. we’ll never know.
even though we’ve never met. i can still remember the sound of your heartbeat, your voice so sweet like the heavens. and your movement so graceful. graceful. you’re like a Raven – innocent, beautiful, sweet.
my heart just skipped a beat.
beautiful soul. speak to me. i saw the beauty of life through you, beautiful soul. and even though we’ve never met, lover. i miss you.
you got a lotta soul, lady. that’s beautiful.
all i wanna do is admire your beauty from a distance because im afraid if i touch you. my flesh will be tempted to do all that is regarded. earthly.
i’ll prolly luh you fo’eva. let me escape through you in thought. beautiful lover. beautiful soul.
“touch me with your mind. hands are overrated & ‘soul’ is overused.”
the closest stranger i’ve never met. i became more with you. your lips i will kiss, your hips i will hold, and your love i will embrace. you have my heart. you have the key to my heart.
and the more i think of you, i miss you. even though we’ve never met, beautiful lover.
our hearts are interlocked in deep conversation. thoughts & feelings in graceful motion, love never known.
i saw us dancing under the moonlight. you wore a silk white dress with Queen Elizabeth’s crown upon your head. and me, just a man wearing a white suit with a purple rose in his chest pocket.
imagine.
and we danced in the cosmos, the stars were watching us — the sun and the moon were playing music only heard in the heavens.
dear lover. beautiful lover. beautiful soul. i love you. i miss you. even though we’ve never met.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 10:25 AM UTC
*"A working man
that's what you are
a young, dependable
not entirely punctual
working man
and you can do anything
with your working hands
fix a tap, wire a circuit,
build a garden wall
or fell a tree
you can do
whatever you put your hands to
you can be whatever you want to be"*
Something breaks
*"with working hands
I'll try to fix it but
it takes time to learn
it takes time
to be good at something
for me
everything takes time
I'm not bad they say
just learning
in my frustration I wonder
what if I'm at full capacity
when there's more to come?
what if I'm just incapable?
destined to be an idle man
with rough, callused
soon to be soft
and useless
working hands"*
. . .
Well I want tomorrow today
so what good are these
working hands anyway?
I work and work and work away
pay my bills
I'm always late with rent
yes, work is overrated and
my pay doesn't make a dent
can't replace all the time I've spent
working with my hands
Isn't it funny
trading something so precious
for something as trivial as money
my brain works over time
day and night
when I get to work
it's like turning out a light
I think less and do more
it's kind of nice
so I think I'll sit tight
and stay on the tools
reject the office jobs
I can have it all
white finger
back problems
an RSI
bad knees
asbestosis
and arc eye
I can get all of them
so long as I try
work really hard and graft away
working man and all that!
who wants tomorrow today
when you can wear a hard hat?
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 2:37 PM UTC
[PART ONE]
xeroxed, RT'd and plagiarized
so many times on so many blogs
tween blogs to republican blogs
to blogs in Russia and
blogs no one ever scrolls though...
original content is prey
but I have a warning for they:
overrated, over-shared
content aggregators beware
the lines you swap can
rot and ware
the World Wide Web
does not care.
[PART TWO]
original content
original contests
original continent
original controversy
original coordination between strangers
original calvary riding their connection into the battlefield of internet memes; creating nothing and sharing everything
[COMMENTARY]
original nothing, nowhere, nobody except facebook "Funny Vidoes!" & "Cool Quotes!". 'Like' pages whose sole originality lies within their own existence but nothing they share. They steal from the rest of the web and re-post what they find for out-of-the-loop troglodytes; often done so in inferior context and with no perspective. The 'refried beans' phenomenon, I call it. I find it fitting because 'refried beans' are a double misnomer. The name comes from 'frijoles refritos' - which means 'well-fried' not 'refried'. They are also never traditionally fried more than once. Yet the name sticks, it gets repeated, it gets re-shared and now that's what they are: refried beans. This phenomenon is why I believe art and all original content eventually become so over-shared and overrated that it's no longer interesting but irritating. These three parts of the poem "Original Content" are separated in abstract authorial presentation. The author has clearly expressed his dislike for the disjunct un-imagination of the internet and presents it as such.
[PART THREE]
original authors losing control of their audiences who believe they are the creators and the artist's art is somewhat shareable
original miscommunication between web 1.0 and web 2.0 reality
original alphabet they use to type on their keyboards
original grammar they learned in school
original money their gov't printed
original content they re-post
original refried beans
original content
orginal contet
ogrinal cotent
ognal ctt
oc
.
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 10:01 PM UTC
Saturn is in
line with
Venus tonight
but, nothing's easy
when you're down.
The clowns walk
around, dressed in
yellow; fast food smiles
and cheeseburger
souls, and nothings
easy when you're down.
The dancers with poles
and sadness, that Halloween,
fires burning, childhood
perfumed dreams,
kind of sadness fills the
navy blue night.
I can't find the North star,
and the jack-lanterns lie rotting
in the streets of Nebraska
and Kansas, and the candies
all gone, and the kids wait.
And I can't find
the deep blue shirt I bought
at Goodwill, and Billy Burroughs
is filled with worms and earth,
and Bukowski looks at Satan
and says, "what do you
mean, we're out of whiskey?"
I've never been much for the stars,
and family and Thanksgiving are
painfully overrated,
and nothing's easy when
you're down.
Nov 22, 2021
Nov 22, 2021 at 9:53 PM UTC
I still hear the ocean
whenever I close my eyes.
"I love the beach," you said.
I looked at you then
with a grin on my face.
It wasn't intentional
but I used to make those
when you were near.
I guess it meant I'm happy,
or stupid enough to believe
what you say.
I still feel the sunset—
its glow, the overrated
orange skyline,
the melancholy it
wrapped us in.
A subtle reminder that the day
was about to die
and that it's so **** beautiful
when it does.
I told you this kept
my heart beating.
You were too quick
to agree.
Maybe that's why
you had to leave.
Maybe you liked
the sunrise more.
Dec 12, 2023
Dec 12, 2023 at 3:56 PM UTC
Take what is left of mine
Something buried and something wound
a jarred melody
of a song most dear
and hang it upon a river of self-doubt
to let it float in a pond of that overrated emotion.
They had always said
in LOVE
nothing should really matter.
Never told us about the different ones.
don't they need it too?
Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 2:01 AM UTC
We're standing outside in a cold, blistered wind,
for a quick pull of smoke and the chemicals within?
A quick rush of joy, euphoric train wreck,
a cure made illegal for a chemist's blank cheque.
Plant matter burning, charring my lungs,
an irritated throat and a cough soon to come.
Pass it to a friend and beg them to be quick
so I can burn my lungs again - let my blood run thick.
Serotonin chained and forced to make me feel good,
yet a non-addictive substance, apt misunderstood.
Less harmful than tobacco, alcohol still worse,
a sadly brainwashed nation where impression's pre-rehearsed.
Generations plagued with loud misguided cries.
They say it makes you stupid, another heartless lie.
We'll strap a gas mask to a monkey, and force it THC.
Forget about the oxygen... I wonder what we'll see?
It seems their brain cells died - it has to be the drug!
Government made a discovery? They ought to be less smug.
But back to my friend, and I in the cold,
forced to be hidden from long outdated scold.
Celebrating beauties in the world that were forgotten,
we're told it's overrated, like fine Egyptian cotton?
I know from experience that this has to be divine:
it could not exist if the sun could not shine.
The wind has stopped blowing, the rain takes it's place,
to feel divine beauty of liquid touching face.
It is something natural, and comes from within,
wow, I'm still standing in a cold blistered wind.
May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 10:48 AM UTC