"pedestal" poems
I thought I forgot you
I thought I long had you buried
Deep in my memory.
I thought you could no longer haunt me
Like you used to do so often.
I thought I got over you
Until your eyes met mine today,
Once or twice at most and that was about it.
I couldn't look at you,
I couldn't look at you without bursting into tears,
So I burst into laughter instead.
And I suppose that you saw through my fake act.
Anyway...
You were there in your corner,
There in your pedestal,
There in your elegance
Drawing something dangerously beautiful
And you were beautifully dangerous.
And I,
I could only watch you from a distance
And learn to admire you
Without touching you,
Without kissing you,
Or ******* you.
We exchanged a conversation
About random things
You know, like
How it took me about an hour
To take a proper picture of the cat you gave me,
How it tragically died,
How I didn't cry when it died...
But I actually did cry when it died...
You looked all right, seriously.
There in your peaceful world
That I no longer was part of.
There in your artistic mind,
There in your capacity to forget,
There in your tendency to break promises,
There in the awful effect you always have on me.
So you said goodbye
Because you had something to go back to.
I said goodbye
Even though I had nothing to go back to.
We parted ways once again,
Me with your drawing pencil in my bag
And you, you my dear, with a piece of me
Inside your pocket.
I remember you once said forever, but you only lied.
I went home,
I went home and cried.
-- Eleanor
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
Naihasik na ang luhang dugo
Sa tigang na lupa ng ating mga ninuno.
Mga alingawngaw na daing,
Mga daing ng gatilyo,
Sanlaksang katotohanan, kayo'y
Hindi mga bayani, bagkus mga
Biktima ng huling uwak ng
Takipsilim, unang kalapati ng
Bukangliwayway.
Sanlaksang katotohanan, kayo'y
Hindi mga bayani, bagkus mga
Moog sa pedestal ng idelohiya't
Pananampalataya ng digmaan.
Naihasik na ang luhang dugo
Sa tigang na lupa ng mga Pangako.
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 3:42 AM UTC
I'm looking deep into her eyes
*Looking into her eyes...
is like opening a door that leads...
to another door*
Wait..really? OK...I open the door.
*This door leads to a long, winding path,
like the winding path of your love.
The path leads to a third door*
O...K. I open the door.
*This door leads to a spiral staircase
descending down, down, down, deep
into her soul.
At the bottom of the staircase is--*
A door?
A door.
I open the door
The door is locked. The key might be under the mat
Seriously? I check under the mat
Nope, not there. Maybe try under the small rock next to the door
Oh for the love of...I check the rock
There is a key
Wonderful...I unlock and open the door
*Inside this door is a large atrium
the glass ceiling giving way to a
beautiful summer night, the stars
twinkling in the distance. At the
far end of the Atrium, there is a curtain*
Sigh I pull aside the curtain
There is a door
Come on! I open the ruddy door.
*You find yourself in a long hallway,
with fine art hanging along the walls.
Crimson carpet lines the floor.
At the end of the hall is a door locked
with a combination biometric
fingerprint scanner/retinal scanner*
What.
*You have 10 seconds to unlock the door
before the hunter-bots de-atomize you*
What!? Ok! I try my fingerprints and eye!
*The door unlocks and the hunter-bots stand down.
In the next room are three vials. Two of them contain
terrible neuro-toxins that will lead to an excruciatingly
painful death. The third will allow you to continue on
to the next room. You have 30 seconds to choose before
you are terminated*
What the hell is this!?
This is the path to true love hidden deep in her eyes
No, this is insanity!
15 seconds
OK! Geez! Umm..Vial Number 2!
You're totally dead
Oh god!
Just kidding. None of them had poison...was just messing with you
THAT'S IT! I'M DONE WITH THIS
Really? There's only one more door. I swear
...Fine. What ridiculous thing do I need to do to open it.
*It's already open. You find yourself in a circular room
with a pedestal in the center. On the pedestal is a hand
written note. On that note is the key to everlasting happiness*
I pick up the note
*You smell sweet hints of your beloved's perfume and
notice the care that each word of the note was written.*
What does the note say?
*My love:
Next Tuesday Only -- Buy One-Get One Free at J.J's Pizza. Cannot be combined with any other offers/coupons. Must present coupon upon purchase. Expires 1/14/14*
...An expired coupon for Pizza?
Such a wonderful expression of love!
How do I get out of here...
You see a door
.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
PLEDGE TO NIGERIA
By: Adigun Temitope Idealism
From between heaven and earth stand a perilous place
Where poverty kicked us on face
Tears stand as our drinks
Where hunger eat up our meals
Our pain is a poisonous laughter
Where sadness becomes our daily activities
Where hardship becomes our ambition
And sorrow our career
Still, we need to pledge to Nigeria
Blood, bone and oil,
Are the pedestal of earth
Where killing is a lifestyle
And ****** a hobby
Where humiliation becomes our take home
And misfortune our store-house
Where graduate works by the road-side
Where poverty is titillating and titivating before the mirror of our land
Yet we need to pledge to Nigeria
Pledge to Nigeria
Even when the birds refuses to sing,
When moon dims its light,
When our days turn into nights
When sun fails to shine
And flowers refuse to bloom
When life fails to give reasons
When dreams refuse to forgive
When the weep inside birth the smile outside
When tears wash hope from our sight
Nigeria must still be pledge to
I pledge to Nigeria
Not to be one if the ambassadors that sing the National Anthem with a teleprompter smiling at them in a shameful tears
I pledge not to be a naked masquerade dancing at the village square
I pledge to steal government money for the poor when I become the President
I pledge to be loyal and not betrayal
I pledge to fight off vices and calamities with my pen
If democracy must to end
I pledge to go crazy to stop it to the end
If civilization was to make us stupid
I pledge to swim in stupidity not to be civilised
I pledge, I pledge
©2015 Adigun Temitope Idealism (Deacon)
#Muse #PurposefulPoetry #BPM #IIB #Asaplanet #ThoughtAndSociety #Poetfreak
blackpridemagazin.simplesite.com
@blackpridemag1
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 3:11 AM UTC
Tell my love the words that I am afraid to speak
From the waves of the ocean to the highest mountain peak
Expressed as my nature stays at a constant bliss
Fluent in the way I am able to entertain this
Your melody as it wraps a warm cloth to my heart
Protecting from all that dare to tear us apart
It flows, a strum of a string as it echoes afar
From the pedestal arose the goddess to shine as the star
As she shares her beauty with the world all to enjoy
Listen to her hum as her voice does not annoy
Rather it uplifts the soul as you feel the keys descend
From the stroke of the pianist to the bittersweet end
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
When I was 5,
The world seemed like this big place.
I was little, with no clue how to navigate.
But then, by chance I met you.
You, with your dark brown hair,
And eyes that belonged to an old soul.
I found a friend in you.
When your little, you’re still growing into
Your own person.
So there is no differences to separate you.
We were little and innocent.
We became connected.
But..
We blinked and suddenly we were no longer 5.
We were pre-teens in junior high,
With a little less innocence.
Always changing, always growing,
We still found a way to be inseparable.
We were best friends.
I found it easy to talk to you,
2 a.m. phone calls,
Telling you my secrets.
I never hid behind walls with you.
There was never a reason.
So I fell in love with you.
You, with your arms opened wide,
Making me feel safe.
Feeling like for once, I found my forever.
I found real love with you.
But...
People change, and grow.
People want different things,
They drift apart.
And found I wanted more,
Than the life we planned.
I found it easier to push you away,
Then to tell you the things in my life,
That became dark.
I pushed you away,
I rejected what you gave me,
Because I couldn’t trust anyone.
I didn’t think you’d understand.
So I hurt you.
You, with your calming demeanor,
And your happy life.
The way you walked on sunshine.
I couldn’t and wouldn’t darken that.
So...
Now we’re grown,
With children of our own.
We see their innocence,
We want some of ours back.
Because of the pain I put you through,
You locked me out of your life for 12 years.
So, now I’m letting you back in.
Letting you see the person I’ve become,
With the wall I’ve built to protect myself.
Letting you know the truth and see my scars.
Hoping that after all this time,
You can forgive me.
You, whom I hold on a pedestal.
The one friend I still love and respect,
And miss more than anyone else who has left.
You, who can still look at me,
And see something other than the darkness.
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 7:56 AM UTC
He thought that he had been evicted like a raucous Irishman, late once again on the rent, his belongings and furniture strewn on the lawn
His cold, deadly stare and ruffled red, said the same, with haughty indignation written all over him
As could be expected with any eviction, belongings strewn to the street, it started to rain; large splattering drops falling from the sky with an audible impact, adding insult to the injury
But he was just a child, set free and off to learn on his own, his perch and roost along with his chair, moved to his new home
He had outgrown the large screen porch, which was such a ridiculous place for an Owl anyway
Wood and glen gone, surrounded by girder and screen, locked into the realm of old peoples coffee and cigarettes
Tucked up into the eaves ignominiously, or sitting on the lamp, grooming flesh from his over large and taloned feet
He would sit silhouetted by the dim red glow of the bulb, relaxing, until a noise would spin his head and he would become hooded and glaring death
The lamp added a glow to his eyes, which already burned with a raptors fire and he would become the personification of evil to the world of prey
Low and crouched, wings slightly spread; he would become the terrifying story that small warm animals tell their children at night to keep them in line and safe
But now he has been moved outside and all of his familiar belongings with him, or most anyways
Now he perches outside, either on the rough, twisted branches near his roost, or his favorite chair, and contemplates late into the night
But it seems that he prefers the comfort of his living room and he rests on the arm of the chair, quiet and pensive in the still and humid darkness
He stares at me while I smoke; the white plumes drifting like iridescent fog into the moonlight, while I observe him from his former home, illuminated by the dim lamp light
His saffron eyes gleam in the darkness, his dark form robed in that of the raptor, wings held down, with the tips outstretched like fingers
He stares at the lamp, standing like a pedestal against the wall and I wonder to myself
Does he want his ****** lamp moved out there too?
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 4:44 PM UTC
She assumes I don't care
And all that she does
Ends up in cruel despair.
She puts up a show
And buys me a bow
Until she feels empty, sad and low.
In a box that I chose
That smells of orchids so special
Lies the bow, like a rose.
For all that she ponders yet knows not
The times that we've spat and fought
Will remain as memories that shan't rot.
For on a pedestal she stands
In my heart, deep and within
'Cause I'm an angel in her hands.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
Umahon ang buwan mula sa kanyang pagtulog. - sabik na sabik sinagan ang sanlibo't isang nayong naghihintay sa kinang niya.
Madilim at malamig; makapal ang mga ulap sa langit. Higit ang pagnanais sa kanyang pagdampi.
At siya'y lumiwanag.
Kumislap.
Ang kinang ng sigurado sa alon-along pagtatanong-tanong.
Ang nag-iisang tiyak sa langit ng duda.
Buong gabi niyang niyakap ang mga pueblong hitik sa pangamba. Winalis ang takot na dala ng langit na obskura.
Buong gabi niyang tangan ang bawat pulgada ng bahala.
Hanggang sa bumangon ang araw mula sa kanyang paghimbing
- sagisag ng kanyang muling paggilid.
Sa gilid.
Sa gilid ang kanyang pedestal.
Ano ang laban sa kinang na hatid ng araw? Lunduyan ng liwanag, sastre ng pagtitiyak.
Sa gilid ang kanyang pedestal.
Pagkat alam ng buwan na iba ang kislap niyang hatid - kinang na kikinang, ngunit 'di maglililimlim.
Kinang na pupuno lamang sa langit ng dilim; sa gilid
ang kanyang pedestal.
Pagkat iba panghabambuhay na paghalik sa pandaliang pagtangan;
na iba ang gusto
sa kailangan.
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 12:28 PM UTC
Panginoon mo ang
Panganorin. Bertud
Ka ng hubad na diwata.
Likhang-isip, halukipkip
Ng wika, pedestal ng
Luha, ikaw itong kalahatan
Ng kasalatan ng unawa't
Awa ng hangal na madla.
Samut-saring anyo't samyo
Ng opyong bumabawi ng
Bait at hinanakit sa buhay
Ngunit masugid na patrong
Naghahasik ng biyaya
Sa anyo ng
bote
pakete
lata
spaghetti
langaw
lumot
bangaw
ipis
lotion
******
burak
darak
barya
kariton
prosti
sutana
artista
politiko
pulis
tsismis
atbp.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 3:23 PM UTC
We are a puzzle with missing parts
That is why we make art
It is a healing start
We are all dream chasers
Until pencil meets eraser
Until boat meets glacier
Reality we must face her
When we sacrifice imagination
For societal integration
We search for placation
In lonely play stations
And through vacation
We experience migration
When the results are doubtful
And the response a drought mold
Because people are skeptical
Until there's a shiny scepter sold
Then you're put on a pedestal
And have your pecker pulled
By various industry tools
Loading you like a mule
With expensive jewels
Art must be the only motive
Not climbing any totem
Because once you're dead
Your art can still be read
Audiences may still be fed
But there's a frivolous influence
So you must be vigilant and prudent
To cut that from your life
So art may be your wife
That works to end strife
Yet that kind of help
You can't put on a shelf
I strive to make my art timeless
Though my pockets are dimeless
We live in a world of depression
That carries the risk of regression
My art could help push past it
Now that would be classic
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 5:43 AM UTC
She looks out in the blue morning
and sees a whole wonderful world
she looks out in the morning
and sees a whole world
she leans out of the window
and this is what she sees
a wet rose singing to the sun
with a chorus of red bees
she leans out of the window
and laughs for the window is high
she is in it like a bird on a perch
and they scoop the blue sky
she and the window scooping
the morning as if it were air
scooping a green wave of leaves
above a stone stair
and an urn hung with leaden garlands
and girls holding hands in a ring
and raindrops on an iron railing
shining like a harp string
an old man draws with his ferrule
in wet sand a map of Spain
the marble soldier on his pedestal
draws a stiff diagram of pain
but the walls around her tremble
with the speed of the earth the floor
curves to the terrestrial center
and behind her the door
opens darkly down to the beginning
far down to the first simple cry
and the animal waking in water
and the opening of the eye
she looks out in the blue morning
and sees a whole wonderful world
she looks out in the morning
and sees a whole world.
6.5k
self-righteous souls
saved from the
everyday run
of the world
skulking throughout
the shadows
cast by the
most holy
fallacy
grasping at
the lost the
unknowing and
the ******
who don't accept
their beliefs as
irrefutable excuses
to be pretentious
oh how far you will fall when brought low from your exalted pedestal
down on your knees, covered in the wretched filth of the masses
that you had gazed down upon in all you hypocritical glory
everyone looks the same when your eyes have been gouged out
you bleed the same as everyone when your too-godly heart is removed
you liar, you snake,
you backstabbing ****
hidden behind
accepting smiles
go forth and
be righteous!
go forth and
beat down the weak!
go forth and fill
the world with
your treacherous,
blasphemous rage!
pray for the
strength to fell
the wicked
non-believers
pray to keep
a closed mind
and to be
unwavering
in your silent
hate, mistrust, and
suspicion of all those
different from you
pray to keep your teeth sharp
to devour those deemed less holy than thou
and go to a fitful, dreamless sleep at night
confident in the knowledge that you are saved
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 2:33 PM UTC
I’m wearing these shades to hide my face,
since you’re all staring so hard
watching me just in case,
maybe I’ll slip up
or reveal a hidden mistake.
Hanging onto my every word
“What does that mean?”
“How can we be sure?”.
I'm not some T.V show
don’t put me on your pedestal.
I’m not your savior,
I can’t heal your soul.
I never asked for this
so go turn your heads and
quit looking at my mess,
or waiting for what I say next.
Go save yourselves,
because I can’t help.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 8:22 PM UTC
I’m an apricot , ripe on the tree - ready for picking
I am a cherry , offering to be popped
3 tequila shots or the equivalent of a blurred memory inside me
my heart is bleeding a little at the acts my body is moving through
i am bleeding a little at the acts my body is moving through
i bleed for 4 days , 5 days.
i am amazed that he pulled out. i find that incredible -
as if a man is wild in the act of mergence and unable to control himself ,
ideas of male/female roles imprinted on me
from parents , **** and public school - where girls are made into women
at 13 ,
we discuss when we will “lose our virginity” i say 15 if i’m ready (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
i should expect him to *** inside me , because i am the subservient woman and he should do as he pleases
i think it magical his heightened awareness -
i see his majestic beauty on his well formed muscles
and the hotel room his family owns , or the kick *** motorbike he drives and the supply of beachfront joints.
and still it is now 1 year later that i am in pain.
a fire on my heart and a sick feeling in my stomach
i am sick because i swallowed the lies and hated myself , i truly believed i was worth that level of respect. the fire burns swiftly in my heart because i am enraged and sorrowful at my ignorance. I am partly ashamed at my lack of empathy
for myself and partly in awe at my magnificence.
We look at virginity as pure , unsoiled.
Pure. Unsoiled.
**** Subconsciously telling our mothers , sisters , aunties and grandma’s that they are ***** for exercising their basic ****** function. Shaming us for feeling pleasure.....the connotations are different for brothers , fathers , uncles and grandpas. A pat of well done on the back , you are now a “man”.............well .. i’ll be ****** it amazes me how these sly , low blows are hidden right in plain sight.
well fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk that !
I know i love myself now
with the respect i would rain down upon any other fellow being .
i wish : for them and me to be able to love without fear, disgust and shame.
i wish to allow my energy from that moment to feed others who need help along their path of self-love.
Now my cosmic womb is treated with respect and reverence
enjoying myself freely.
Oh but , i will say thank you , and a sensi bow , for the lesson learnt.
Never again will i put others on a pedestal they have not earnt.
Especially if it has anything to do with my *****
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
I am an old soul
with an open heart
to love like that of a child
It is never really hard
Anyway
We're all but children
Trying to sort chaos
In these adult forms
We're just stuck
In the land of not Neverland.
9 to 5 menial jobs
Whether in the night or day
We take whatever luck
That comes in our way
Life is a circus
We ******* know it
Like an elephant in the pedestal
They beat us to it
Your chest houses a lodestone treasure
It strongly attracts
The every atom in my body
That's the least I can measure
We have an affinity
This is some sort of attraction
You
A darling boy
and I am
Just a girl
Let's get out of this world
Together let's fly away
Be my Peter Pan
I'll be your Wendy
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 12:13 PM UTC
“The most important scientific revolutions all include, as their only common feature, the dethronement of human arrogance from one pedestal after another of previous convictions about our centrality in the cosmos.”
Stephen Jay Gould
Give me
vacuum tube torus Lorentz-Klein interference receptors
dual noble-gas maser integration processors
at least one
prosthetic Gaussian carbon-coated ribosomal Tesla coil
an anthropomorphic hierarchical temporal meme-pseudopod
some
support vector k-nearest neighbor algorithms
reverse engineered quantum optic die-cast silica motherboards
self-assembling three dimensional electro-active protein polymers
maybe even
a superconducting spectral alkali resonance analyzer
paired with
harmonizing piezoelectric kinematic thermal modules
dipped in
subzero Kurzweil-circuit nanite neurotransmitters
and voila!
God.
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 5:18 PM UTC
A man once told me
He felt as if he had created me
From scratch, a muse
Conceived by invention,
Rather than the precision of my blood
or the tiny cosmos within my marrow;
He was mine,
But did not belong to me
The path of sirendom
Is paved with gilded lilies,
Soft flesh, and quiet angles
If you let them,
You can drift on through
Your feet hovering three inches above the soil
Saturated ripe with fertility,
Easier than breathing
But there will always be
At least nine of you
In every patch of every field
Preserved in light
The quicksand of reason, immortalized
Delicate whispers convince you
What a lovely work of artistry
An inspiration, the birth of genius
But you are only the vessel
Left empty
But I have never
Belonged to anyone,
No square of grass
Lush enough to rest my head
on a practiced lap
I was not an island to discover;
Sprung from beneath the Mariana,
I was built from the deep place
No pedestal to extend
The unhinge of my reaching arms
I took the long way up
Scratching through earth, long dead
No fruit, carefully arranged
No marble, heavily lidded
The flowers collapsed,
Like your idea of Woman,
To linseed stain
A smashed sunrise
It wasn’t god, but myself
That I met on the other side
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 6:16 PM UTC
Waste my time.
Distract me from the pain of other earthly things.
Raise my Hope from the dead.
Give it mouth to mouth,
Sloppily,
Spit-flying,
And So *****
Inflate its lungs.
Out & in, in & out.
Bruise its lips.
We all are just Living to die.
Right?
Take me to church--
Show me God, boy.
Bring me to my knees,
Make me sing his praises.
Shed your tears on my bare back while we break classroom desks apart.
Piece by piece,
You use me.
You shape me,
And Create me into yours.
Make me wear skirts with stockings.
Make me play nice.
Make me smile.
You know you want to.
Make me wear fishnets.
Make me tease you.
Make me want to please you.
I know I want to.
Let's play dress up for the night.
Let's Spider-Man climb the walls of our insecurities and broken hearts.
Let's bite each others shoulders,
Don't you wanna get primal with me?
Tell me I'm pretty.
Say it,
Say it,
Say it.
Be good and I'll reward you.
Be bad and I'll ignore you.
Make me feel all nasty.
Make me feel so graceful.
Make me feel so perfect.
Pedestal perfect.
Pedestal perfect.
Pedestal perfect.
Let's just pray I don't fall.
Dec 3, 2019
Dec 3, 2019 at 10:23 PM UTC
The media has taught us as girls
That skinny is beautiful.
That the more your hips stick out
The more the boys will like you.
It has taught girls to hate their curves
And body positivity has turned
Into a rivalry.
Girls who are prettier than me
Tell me they hate me because I'm skinny.
As if my flat tummy
Is the only thing that makes me pretty.
No one compliments my eyes
Or my smile it's all my weight.
And then songs come out saying
Things like **** those skinny *******
And girls hate me more.
I want an *** and curves.
I always have.
In high school boys called me paper
Flat on both sides.
'Cause boys like more ***** to hold, right?
Yet the media still holds skinny girls on a pedestal
And beautiful girls still tell me
They want to look like me.
When all I want is to look like them.
Beauty should not be a competition.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 1:21 AM UTC