"penalize" poems
Pencil - ****** - ***** - Penalize -Pentagram - Pentagon - Pentagonal - Penitentiary -Pensive - Peninsula - P.......
....Plagued. What is it to be plagued? Haunted?
Seiged by an inescapable force?
Haulted?
IMMOVABLE.
ability to move, yet achieving no valuable distance.
A struggle writhing within ones self.
Pen -Pent- Pent up- P...
....Please, no more....
....more miles high.....
Stakes,
In the ground.....
Great stakes.....
High,
So very high.
Unreachable.
Unattainable.
Pen-Pensive-Pacing- to pace back and forth down a narrow stretch of newly carpeted hallway.
A door.
Adoring.....
Adorable....
Sweet.
Innocence left?
May be none left.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 10:30 AM UTC
I'm a fan of Vontaze Burfict
Though he may not be perfect
For he gives players concussions
To continue the daily discussions
Of the power of his percussion
To receive a hall of fame induction
That is where his value is derived
So what do these penalties imply?
That the referees have a preconceived notion of him
And are preemptively looking to treat him grim
Which gives his team a lesser chance to win
Which makes the biased referees grin
We are a country that idolizes quarterbacks
Every other position we're quick to attack
We only care about who has the ball
And laughing at others when they fall
We worship that which is shiny
And view everything else as grimy
Quarterbacks become celebrities incredulously
While everyone else is treated impetuously
The NFL is like America
Politics makes it harder to watch
The Patriots are boring and plain
They win constantly
The Bengals are entertaining and rough around the edges
They show promise and potential that is never realized
In a nation
Of provocation
I'd rather proudly call myself a bengal
I know that seems an idealistic angle
But Cincinnati provides no coziness or protection
You must always avoid discriminate detection
Of those that call themselves patriots
That drive blue and white chariots
And penalize players unnecessarily
For African Americanning
We really fumbled the ball
Because of the ref's call
That treats us unequally
How they have fun evilly
They can arbitrarily treat whoever however
But a concussion will make them less clever
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC
It's such a different perspective to see her self-hatred outdoes my own. She's a brilliant, dying star. Vacuuming away all the evil in her, siphoning it through her throat. Flush it down. Pulling apart her bones from the inside out. I can understand that.
I've been thinking offhandedly, not on purpose. Take a deep breath, look up at the clouded sky. The blown, restless leaves endlessly remind me of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Let my mind go blank. Refocus, come back down from wherever I went, finding I've been working questions over while unaware. Autopilot likes to steer toward the ground. I've been thinking offhandedly, not on purpose, of the best way to say goodbye.
I've been dreaming of writing this down all morning, all night. Who's to say I haven't been anxiously awaiting this all my life? To tell you what it's like to hate yourself so much that others become mere blips on the radar; still there, but so unrecognizable. I become unreachable. I've been dreaming of opening myself up, seeing all the things that are tucked inside, away from my reach. They all tell me not to go looking for trouble, but hell, how could it possibly get worse? I'm curious.
Lying here loathing myself for being so pitiful. So pathetic. Part of me knows I am wallowing, stewing, dwelling. The other part knows what they don't: there is nothing of worth here. Take it all away, no more trying. Drop my cards on the wood between my elbows, stand & take my leave. You guys can split my poker chips. It'll be so...so lovely...not waking up to the bleak, the empty. Not to have to face myself in the mirror, with my troubled eyebrows & worried lips & the nervous twitch of my mouth that wasn't there a month ago. Not to wake up to every 'can't'. Not to stare into my own blank, listless eyes; numb. So mortified of myself, miserable with me, yet so distant, removed, disinterested, distracted.
Please don't be upset if I think of you before I go. Understand that just because I want to die doesn't necessarily mean I want to leave you. Don't count this one last sin; dreaming of my fingertips memorizing the contours of your face, kissing your eyelids, your cheeks, your mouth, your neck, hands, tears. Breathe in the scent of you. Maybe you could give me some courage to hold onto as I let go. Don't penalize me for this, please. Let me live in how much I love you one last time. I'm sorry this hurts you.
I just figured out how to say goodbye.
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 1:02 AM UTC
Dear Mr Cameron, what are you trying to do,
you are getting rid of soldiers by score.
You are turning "Good Old Blighty"
into Europe's private Loo.
and on the side you want us all to go to war.
With the cut-backs,
will they get there.
Do we know if they can swim
Perhaps ask your mate OBAMA
may let them ride with him.
It seems that you "Prime Minister"
forget who pays your wage
You want to spend those Billions
on a brand new railway line
You will save, what, 30 minutes
which is really not an age
But like many of your policy's
you'll very likely change your mind.
I find a piece of paper
would help you without a doubt
If the things you write seem stupid
when you read
and the figures don't look viable
you could always rub them out
This would then leave lots of money
for the things we really need.
Didn't anybody tell you
when you did first get the job That "for" the British people
you are meant to do some good.
Not to make the poor get poorer
and be forced to go and rob .
Should we re-employ that man
called Robin Hood.
Get a grip I say to you,
do yourself a favour. Perhaps staying in this country
you may not lose out to Labour.
You penalize the unemployed
who cannot get a job.
But for the rich
you keep the taxman from their door
and for your mate the banker you
will save him a few bob.
How about some time and effort
aimed a little more at the poor.
We all know what Obama
really does expect from you,
but remember every now and then
it's good to tell him, No. You don't have to walk behind him
doing what he wants you to.
It would be nice if you politely
could tell him where to go.
Also!
Brussels cannot rule
this country any longer. Who do they think they are making
all these stupid rules.
Whilst we weaken this UK
they get stronger every day,
do they forget we won a war
and we are far from being fools.
I do hope "Mr Cameron"
you might think about today
and contemplate upon the issues
that I and others raise.
Then instead of pleasing Europe
and the good old USA,
you might keep that job of yours and
warrant a little praise.
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
Inspiration resists my morals’ Plea
And I penalize the madness spilling forth from pen in hand.
Revoking my passions to save a lover’s skin,
As I hold my heart under wings spread reluctantly.
Innocence was cast into Time’s sand,
Alas my passions win.
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 11:07 PM UTC
If I had a nickel for every each and every Republican lie
Guess how many congress men and women I could buy.
I could buy another country and then I could use it to
Put all those Republicans in. I would. Wouldn’t you?
I could work with medical science people
To make a vaccine legal in court
That would make all the legal criminals
Wake up just three or four feet short
And green and purple spots on them
To make them all immediately stand out.
Then, when we saw one of them in public
We could point at them and loudly shout.
If we could somehow get back from them
All the time they have wasted each year
We could give it all to people who now
Live without hope, and only have fear.
We could legalize prostitution as well
And make them all perform as doxies.
But, who would want to make it with them?
So, they would have to hire some proxies.
We could do the same with lobbyists
And others who bribe representatives.
And we could quadruple the taxes owed
On them and all their pensioned relatives.
We could make the remove graffiti marks
Off of all our defaced walls and things.
Then, we could make them work fast food
And try to live by cooking onion rings.
If we could make that stuff from that movie
That made liars tell nothing but the truth
We could sniff these evil ******** out
While they are still in their stinking youth.
We could penalize their parents too
For miseducating them so very badly.
But there is no such magic potion
And I make that statement sadly.
Brent Kincaid
4/22/2015
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 11:49 PM UTC
I want to be unapologetic
Yet, I continue to apologize
For every difference that they see
Increases the need to compromise
From what I wear to how I sleep
Or what is deemed a healthy size
From then on, I understood
That I lived only to be described
I apologize again for my differences
Next time, I will improve my disguise
For the sake of your own comfort
I will keep putting aside mine
I look up to their condescending stares
They will never be satisfied
I escape into my solitude
I am not something for you to define
I am tired of advocating for myself
Without the support of family ties
Finding more hate in my own growth
As though I live to be ostracized
My attempts to calm my abnormalities
In order to sooth those who penalize
To make room for all of their expectations
To create another profitable merchandise
They have taught me to pursue
A personality so idealized
While they heavily persuade me
To carve a body to sexualize
Only to be rewarded with a life
Where I am only patronized
Filled with the inequalities
That are completely normalized
I retreat into my inner world
The place where I fanaticize
Of a space where I can breathe
With the encouragement to try
I am not broken, just discouraged
Of those who antagonize
Minorities and their differences
Who then live demoralized
I don't want to be given a role
With a life script to memorize
Or submit myself to a narrative
That can easily be summarized
Do not confide me to a label
Just so you can stigmatized
Those labels are not my name
I deserved to be recognized
I do not wish to be put on a pedestal
As another icon to be advertised
I only wish for your understanding
Just enough to be humanized
Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 11:40 PM UTC
Here sits the poet
The scribe of the times
Rendering the wordless
Into heart-rending rhymes.
Listen to the poet
Who says what most do not.
Pay attention closely
And see what the poet has got.
Sometimes you listen,
Then must listen once more,
Because hidden inside
Might be the words to a score.
Only you don’t yet hear
The music it is playing
Because you are still listening
To the words they are saying.
And, sometimes you must
While reading the second time
Be careful not to penalize
Because the words don’t rhyme.
It is often about the cadence,
The way the words dance along,
That turns the words from prose
To the beginnings of a song.
The poet’s job is to treat you
With a bit more than just language
To give you all the artistry
That the spoken word can manage.
So we use things like spacing
And often joyous syncopation
To achieve your attention
And catch your imagination.
Whether in a limerick
Or in a soothing lullaby
We do our best to slip things
Like satisfaction past your eyes.
We are, after all, artists
Who take what you have heard
And use that to entice you
To fall in love with the spoken word.
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 12:02 AM UTC
I felt crash landed - in a strange place,
This is not how I planned it - mind in an estranged state,
Felt like a different planet - what is the strange space,
Dealt with the grapes i was handed - but I had to change the pace,
Expected enmity cause eventually everybody's an enemy,
I used my verbal anemone to protect my mental amenities,
I had to penalize penalties that tried to dismember me,
But since I moved to the peach,
Life's a beach - but with ample sand,
Scenery is asterisks and ampersands,
Bittersweet ; I asked for this,
Father stretched my hands,
I managed this time shift- now i have super visions,
No more stupid visions of voodoo superstitions,
Thought it'd be an intermission to my inner mission..
But I'm Saiyan,
A lot of Heros turned out to be Villains,
Like Some of my Gokus turned out to be Krillins,
I'm Saiyan;
Some of the Halos they held turned out to be Horns,
Some of the flowers they had handed me , had thorns,
I'm Saiyan;
I took advice from an imitation Master Roshi,
Fake homies just here for the ride, like Yoshi,
I'm Saiyan;
I had to pick a low to go on for my motivation,
I had to pick a coat to throw on for this hibernation,
I'm Saiyan;
for some reason my plight i chose to prolong,
Had them demons blowin up my cell , like Gohan,
I'm Saiyan;
I ducked advice and moved from the side of them,
Then i sacrificed ...myself-
I was on some saibaman,
I'm Saiyan;
I had to access these hidden chambers,
with my hand on my black chest,
I know I'm something greater...
Nov 30, 2023
Nov 30, 2023 at 2:09 PM UTC
The crowd around me’s thick with all the faces I’ve created
They’re all bleary eyed, but I still try
To find one that isn’t jaded
I tell myself it’s all my fault, though I know that isn’t true
I still blame myself for all the hell
That you have put me through
Your fire burned my soul and left it’s ashes in my core
Icy veins just can’t sustain
My life source anymore
I don’t want to hide behind the darkness of the truth
It wasn’t me; you’re the thief
That stole away my youth
So I closed my eyes to the monsters you left behind
Now I’m stuck asleep, unaware of my reality
I won’t awake. I died that day
You can’t seem to see, it was you that murdered me
And I just can’t--understand
You shouldn’t be allowed to throw away your child
You shot those words like bullets, now all I see is smoke
Reload the gun, I turn to run
As it seeps from your throat
I walked in on crutches; did you ever let that soak in?
I know you knew, so how could you
Break someone already broken?
I hope your eyes turn white from all that you refuse to see
All you see is you, so it must be true
You’re the queen of everything
Just peel away the flesh and blood you cursed upon my bones
Since it’s yours to take, you won’t hesitate
To sit upon your throne
So I closed my eyes to the monsters you left behind
Now I’m stuck asleep, unaware of my reality
I won’t awake. I died that day
You can’t seem to see, it was you that murdered me
And I just can’t--understand
You shouldn’t be allowed to throw away your child
I can’t seem to wake up. Just want you to make up
For what you said to me, I need an apology.
What hurts me the most is I just won’t let go
Of the kind woman who liked to hold my hand
*Penalize, traumatize
Recognize all the lies
Crying, I’m dying
From all of your lying
Lost at sea, I can’t breathe
What have you done to me?
Drowning, I’m drowning, I’m drowning*
I won’t awake. I died that day
You can’t seem to see, it was you that murdered me
And I just can’t--understand
You shouldn’t be allowed to throw away your child
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
What have we become, oh humans
Hands made for breaking things without touching them
We drown in our temptations
Without a moments hesitation
Take a look around, what do you see?
Fake smiles straining from hypocrisy
Consume and devour
Take what isn’t ours
Penalize, glamorize
Recognize all the lies
Such a waste, big disgrace
Why am I in this place?
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
How long are you going to
penalize me for your past
that I had nothing to do
with as a new man?
Apr 28, 2022
Apr 28, 2022 at 10:59 AM UTC
Recently I was reminiscing on my past and I discovered that I may not have known God personally as my saviour, but I understood the principle of "Writing your own destiny/The power of your words and imaginations ", or maybe I thought I did
For those who studied in Nigeria, in junior high school we had a subject called 'Business studies' , and one course in it was learning how to read and write SHORTHAND.
I was really terrible in that stuff, so much so that, all I thought of was how I was going to pass that subject in the last junior certificate exams (JSCE).
On the day of our exam, I turned to the page where we were required to translate in English, a passage written in shorthand. There and then, I knew I had no idea of anything, but I can't leave my paper blank. NO WAY.
JUST FOLLOW ME.. you'll know what i wrote
Same thing happened in university. An impromptu test was given of which I was not prepared for.
Another challenge of not writing anything stood before me again.
I simply remembered my secondary school days and to be honest, this is what I wrote( I may not remember word for word, but I'll give a brief summary of the intro)..
"Dear examiner, do you know that Jesus loves you? If you dont, allow me to use this medium to tell you so, since I have no idea of the answer to your question."
So on and so forth...I made sure I shared the little I knew on God's love
Yea.. I think in the one of my JSCE, I remember adding this line
' I know this paper will be marked in minna, so if you are a Muslim don't penalize me for talking about my God on this exam answer sheet '. Funny right ?
I wasnt born again then, however I was by the time same repeated itself in university.
Now guess what!! Surprisingly, I didn't fail these courses. I got an overall B in business studies and a 6/10 in that course in university (I Have a colleague who can testify to this )
I don’t think I understood why I did so in Junior high, but since I got a good result, I thought of it the moment I was faced with same cross road at university (PLEASE DON'T TRY THIS O).
NOW I CLEARLY DO!!. What worked there was the PRINCIPLE OF IMAGINATIONS/SPOKEN WORDS, in the bid to writing your own destiny.
Never ever give into failure-- NEVER.
Failure is only a thing of the mind. If you allow the thought consume you, in no time, your life will become a living reality of your thoughts and words
Whenever you are at the crossroad and failure seems to be starring at you right in the face, choose life, choose success, choose anything but failure-- and ACT IT
You may call my experience luck, but I want to believe that it was this principle that worked for me- I believed what I did was going to get me in the clear, and sincerely speaking it did (Mark 11:23)
I choose success
I choose prosperity
I choose victory
I choose affluence
I choose any and every good thing God can give, because I will never settle for anything LESS
Jul 16, 2020
Jul 16, 2020 at 10:59 AM UTC
My shame is exposed
For the world to see
No point in hiding my scars
They're forever painted on me
It's the only thing
They know me for
This pain I carry
Is my punishment for starting this war
They say I'm a harlot
Maybe I am
Forgive me for I have sinned
Or penalize me since I'm already ******
I find myself isolated
From the rest of the world
My only joy in life
Is my beautiful daughter Pearl
So I walk the city
With my shame tattooed upon me
Represented by the letter "A"
For everyone to see
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 7:39 PM UTC
On a front-row-center throne
The Would-be King relaxes.
Besides him rests his Lady-Queen
In tsunamis of green satin.
He’s enjoying all the accolades
In the Hallowed Halls of drama
Surrounding their appearance,
Where the monkey trio entertains
And fashion marches to and fro
Clutching heavy bits of tinsel.
All is merriment and joy
Until the Jester makes a jape
That earns a queenly frown
Which stirs the King to wipe his smile
And stalk onto the dais
Where he
slaps
the Jester on his cheek,
And wearing traces of a smirk
Marches back down to his throne.
The Jester lofts a lame response
Into a sea of stunning silence
Then the air turns shades of Royal blue
And American TVs go deaf
For thirty-seven seconds
While across the seas the
Audience enjoys the
Braying of a *******
Believing he’s impervious
Or maybe he is Sampson
The King pulls down the ancient walls
Of cherished film tradition
Reducing what was dignified
To a rank back alley rumble
Then later makes a fake obeisance
Awash with phony tears and snot.
All hail the King of Hollywood
They should take back his golden prize
To penalize his hubris -
And let him know rules still apply.
And cause some real tears in his eyes.
ljm
Mar 31, 2022
Mar 31, 2022 at 3:29 PM UTC
Do you know what I not?
You penalize nonconformity.
I only ask, why?
Now I scribble for your displeasure,
to watch ignorance dance
upon the cold skin which you wear
and to wait patiently
for my verdict.
Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 9:18 PM UTC