"pessimistic" poems
Maybe it's for you but not for me, but who knows?
When will the time stop and give way to the paradoxical space that will shove the soul out of its life, eventually?
Tend to think that the archetypal white collar worker is what you should be before you delve into the reality?
Jumped into the ripest chord of a void song, and you found nothing but truth and perplexity?
Threw yourself into the wilderness but you are still deprived of happiness, only peace, filled with emptiness?
Crashed the mental into bi-polarizing set of uncertainty and sanity, driving everything towards the ravine of confusion and misinterpretation?
Dropped the last sweat of joy and contentment before you discover the eventuality, pessimistic value of the whole context?
Until the ultimate full stop appears, will you understand what is the whole story is all about?
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 6:56 AM UTC
No Romance,
just the way
you liked it.
Just the way
You ripped off
Your dress
And left me to
romanticize it
balled up
on my floor
Just the way
you teased and
denied
my poetic soul
You said it
felt so foreign
Like you were
never worthy
of the prose
You left me
Writhing and
Alone
and
I know
you know
You’re not perfect
I just wanted
you to feel
like a goddess
I worshiped
beyond words
even if you didn't
believe in something.
Believe me,
I did my best not to be
bitter
But your cynicism
was never ****
No one cares
What you don't
Like
You would
look into the
Grand Canyon
and just see a void.
Avoiding
the obviously
numinous
Like where
your heart
was
Before it was
split with a river
streaming your
constantly
pessimistic
consciousness.
Maybe I was too sweet
finishing last
like a nice guy
that you just
left salty
To
slide
down
the
throat
of your
thesis statement:
NO ROMANCE
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
Facing the day with upmost pride,
Praising each ray of warm, caring, wonderful sunlight,
No matter the weather, they shine brilliantly, as children of the earth
Being happy about rain, these flowers only grow thankful, for what it's worth
Because these rain drops may look like tears, the scene may be sad,
No sound, but the gentle tapping of the falling water onto the ground,
but a lone standing Helianthus won't feel bad,
For it felt joy in this weather,such can be difficult for some to be found
A mysterious, yet beautiful lense, once the sky opens up a little for the sunlight to travel through again, inviting a rainbow through the sound of wind,
My pessimistic outlook of this weather, the raindrops looking alike tears, changed, through it's brightness, rather don't they look like jewels of some kind ?
My heart won't be drenched by sorrow,
Alike a helianthus, I shall look softly, gently towards the sky,
Towards the azure, ceiling beyond me.
~Umi
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 6:05 PM UTC
Dear Brianna Evelyn Heins,
Stop Spanx sitting me, I’m old enough to take shape of my own.
Sincerely,
You’re Hips
P.S.
Stop convincing the lips to call me flab-u-lous!
I have my own name.
Stop knocking the knuckles to bone
To hear that hollow hound sound, now don’t use me in your measurement references, I want to live a day
Without spinning round the bouncy bands of your operation game
I’ve seen tweezers fall out of your eyes, to plummet under my moon shone complexion
Please keep in mind the brain is a liar.
And well, I have no twins; your pessimistic ways don’t acknowledge my individuality
The color of shame is not moving, while your red majestic
beast hair torturously tickles my clear space of face.
Brianna,
The brain is a liar!
I know you are told you’re observant;
The deception is grand
Stop pretending you know me
Let me dance dizzy
with the calves
Like coming out of the closet
I’m showing you I’ll never be straight
but brains whisper “weep, weep, weepweepweep”
at the sight of the salt soaked, taffy stretched skin
the brain sends me signals, but I beg for the heart to seep in
Please listen up
rarely do I talk,
for you think words are merely a sound
but the profoundness hasn’t shaken
I know you must feel my urges like
I’m on tonight and my hips don’t lie
beauty may lay in the fragile way I sway
said I’m below
But to hell with you
because this bridge can be crossed
but embers fly in you eyes
and the brain is a liar
a family member I wholeheartedly despise.
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 10:32 PM UTC
Distressed tears trickle down a face soiled with dolor
Flooding a pillow with painful memories
drowning every being of hope
Swallowing love in a black hole
Only to be thrown back up
As a wreckage of confused emotion
A sponge soaking up all my ambition
Leaving pessimistic thoughts to fill the cold void where there is only an echo of happiness
My already cracked spirits are fatigued
Sharply cutting through my mind where affection is suffocated
And lust is left gasping for air
My insecurities seek acceptance
Confiding in the cushion that holds every tear
It welcomes my troubles
And shuns my dreams
I am a lost soul
If only I could abide behind a fortress that protects my heart
only then will my tears cease
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
We come from two different worlds yet we're close.
We're like parallel lines.
We are equidistant from one another and we'll never meet, but for some reason we're headed in the same direction.
Why can't we be perpendicular lines?
Why can't we meet and create a 90 degree angle?
Is it fates way of saying we can never meet?
The mathematical theory can always be related with the psychological one when it comes to relationships or our own issues with ourselves.
We can never be because we're not meant to meet.
We're headed in the same direction but the space in between is two negative magnets keeping us at a distance, hence we fight to be close only to be pushing ourselves further away but always equidistant one another till we eventually agree.
We are parallel lines.
However what we refused to wait on is the second Mathematical theory on Parallel and Perpendicular line.
We can somewhat change a parallel line to a perpendicular one just by rotating a line 90 degrees. This in a psychological manner means that no matter how pessimistic a relationship feels, how depressed we are, how alone we feel, with one change we can create a 90 degree angle of happiness.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 7:41 AM UTC
Society is a clay mold
Taking every newborn into its fold
Kissing each brow with insecurity, shame
Releasing it's victims, carbon-copies, all the same
Society is a line graph's slope
Plotting point ever upwards in hope
Shunning those who are different, who fight
Loving only those who are "normal", all outliers denied
Society is a disease, nipping at the soul
Filing and wearing down on the young and old
Breaking every innocent into a pessimistic, jaded mess
Rending, tearing, stomping, destroying whatever is left
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 12:07 AM UTC
To live is the rarest thing in the world. I agree with that statement. To live means to have life or to be alive, but how many people actually do that?
"Life is a crazy ride and nothing is guaranteed.", said Eminem. So many people in today's day and age have gone through situations, and almost always unexpectedly. The impact of the situation has left many of them with no zest for life, and they end up simply existing. Its pretty sad if you think about it though. Where some of us are living a zealous life, amped with motivation, others are like clouds, just drifting by, day after day.
Well, I think that's the problem, I think that is to blame for so many things. People who only exist have no goals for their lives, they become negative and have no hope whatsoever. They become so pessimistic that they sometimes get the better of the optimistic. That shouldn't be happening. I can confidently say that those who live to just exist, are the most negative in our population. Everybody suffers and everybody hurts but some of us have acknowledged the fact that circumstances are temporary, so why should we let it get the better of us.
Life is way too short to just go by existing. Doing that is like making food that won't get eaten or buying a phone that you won't use, its pointless. Existing instead of living is almost insulting your creator. Each of us were created for a special purpose, and merely existing is not one of those. I believe that just existing is a waste. So many of us have lost friends and Family members, that we would give anything to see again. You have a life, they don't. Make use of it.
Remember that you were only give one life to live, but if you do it right, once is enough. Also, always know that if you love life, it will love you back. Living your life to the best of your ability can only ever have a positive effect on your life. You were given this life because you're strong enough to live it.
Take chances. Tell the truth. Say no. Spend all your cash. Get to know someone randomn. Say I love you. Sing out loud. Laugh at stupid jokes. Cry. Apologise. Tell someone how much they mean to you. Laugh till your stomach hurts. Regret nothing. Most importantly, live life.
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 12:55 AM UTC
Yeah, we have a great relationship. But imagine how much better this would be if I actually loved you back?
But oops, that's right. I forgot to tell you that I'm kind of incapable of loving another human being.
But it's okay, it's not like love is real anyways.
And even though a good percentage of the general population have the same opinion as me, I'm labeled by those around me as a cynical, lonely, pessimistic girl, simply because others can't seem to comprehend that everything I say is derived from my own personal perspective and observations that I've made.
What was it that the naively optimistic, overly positive young man from the book store called me?
Oh yes, an "unjustifiably, unnecessarily negative teen who is disappointed with her life because she has yet to 'experience love.'"
Despite his ignorance and obscenely immature mindset, which evidently accounted for his matching personality, I don't think he realized that my lack of belief in the existence of "true love" was the exactly the reason that I was in the book store.
Because, as I came to realize, it appears that the only form of "love" that I seem to recognize as being adequate enough to somewhat believe in are those spoken of and created in novels.
It's formulated by the birth of a ridiculously intense, love fueled storyline, supported by a mindful choice of cohesive, dramatic, and emotional words.
Hence, fictional love is born, except to most it doesn't seem fictional because it's so breathtaking to read about.
They believe in it, they worship it.
As if it actually exists in an alternate universe.
The unrealistic perfection of it gives them a disgusting, false hope which just drives them to cling to it more.
It's a drug to them, they can't live without the hope that such a "love" exists somewhere in the world; they need it.
And the sad part is, they're completely oblivious to the fact that they have just become addicts, that they just sold their soul and relinquished part of their freedom to a fictitious concept.
It's so fake, it's almost real.
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 4:10 AM UTC
*
Black and Dark are not necessary bad things
Many people associate negativity to it
All our African people are dark and black
Night is dark - and that is not bad too
Thinking, speaking, writing of Black, Dark, & Night
As negative, pessimistic and bad
Only shows our ignorance in how we all are
Brain-washed by those who think & believe
White and light is superior to every thing
Please remove this ignorance
While reading this poem
Where LOVE is hopefully represented
As a Black Dark spot on white light life
Black and Dark are as good as
Or even better than white and light
Here Black and Dark is used positively
Read it so that way
XXXXXXX
*How can I remove
The Black spot of LOVE
From my life?
How can I hide
The Dark spot of LOVE
From my being?
How can I not find
A job that will give me work
A place to go and stay
A friend who would understand me
A family who would accept me
A BELOVEDz who will hold my hand
My life is considered useless
By everyone in this city
Because of this
Black Dark spot of LOVE
I carry around my heart's kitty
With such accusations
Falling on me from everywhere
How can I go in front
Of my BELOVEDz to
Show how much I LOVE her
I've forgotten everything in life
I'm lost everything in the process of
Adoring this...
Black and Dark spot of LOVE
People say I've gone mad & crazy
In seeking positivist within Black and Dark
How am I suppose to find
The ways of life again for
The journey to my BELOVEDz heart
On the dark night path of fate?
This life without
A Black Dark spot of LOVE
Was nothing but waste
Life was just a maze of chase
For greed, success, wealth & fame
Till my BELOVEDz painted my soul
Black Dark with her LOVE SOUL illuminate
Now how am I suppose to
Remove the Black Dark liquid of LOVE
That runs within my veins
And why should I?
When my Black Truth is
Much better than world's white lies
When my Dark LOVE is
Much better than world's light life
Black Dark Spot of LOVE
Is the only positive I carry
So why should I even try to
Remove the Black Dark spot of LOVE*
*
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 9:50 AM UTC
*she was nihilistic, pessimistic, narcissistic
but he had her believing
in the magic of early morning coffee,
the sound of the waves against the shore,
& second chances*
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 9:19 AM UTC
You look in the mirror and see every flaw
on you face,
Then hold your head down for every little
blemish, for all of your minute imperfections,
And that is all that you see, all you can
think about when you watch people's eyes on you.
But we are our own worst critic,
and how pessimistic it is
That we can only look at ourselves
and see our worst.
If you haven't noticed, though, you've
never truly looked at yourself.
You've only ever seen your reflection,
a mere image staring back at you.
The truth of the matter is that you'll
never be able to see yourself, only your reflection,
Something that can never fully capture you
because a picture is only worth a thousand words.
You are worth at least a million.
So maybe you should stop looking
at yourself in the mirror
And start seeing yourself through my eyes,
then you will see that
You are beautiful.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
some greedy little bitter man has put together a picture-perfect person and out of pure laziness and malignant attempts at control he pays off a psychopath to make it happen but we’re just a little body, flesh and bones come between them and their paychecks so why not make it easier? they made a factory out of our garden and nothing grows in factories it’s manufactured, easy as one two three four five six, we’re all sitting on an assembly line waiting for some alcoholic man to shout at some pimply-faced twenty-something “FASTER! FASTER!” so it begins! press of a button, we’re created, step one: your parents were given the baby books, kids! infants, they’re all the same anyways. they’re not individuals yet, they haven’t been encoded so relax, parents. want them turn out like you? sure, do what your parents did, worked out well, eh? been occupying this factory your whole life, then? well anyways, step two: they spend less time with you because you’ve been in this world for three years so it’s time you get out on your own…. step three: they gotta YELL and scream and children aren’t supposed to touch things or say things or scrape their knees because that’s more work for the adults, and they work all day, just like they were programmed for, good little machines 'cause they forgot what it’s like to be a baby or an animal or a plant or a God but also the resentment, a child wants to live but how ridiculous? there’s no life in industry… all about the money baby step four: you buy your education because it builds your character because money says power but when did meaningless power equal respect? I don't know but they force you into reading the same old instruction pamphlets left in the break room at the plant for the past century or so and five: your turn to work for fourty years in this polluted place because it’s hard to break free from twenty-three years of moulding into a cookie cutter you never did fit, that’s why it hurts so much when they try to push you through, your muffin-top is sliced right off and you’re contorted to fit the view of perfect sugary sweetness but just to make sure you're ready they coat you with vanilla icing to cover up your imperfections, perfect, now step six, and this one is the doozy, and because you’re **** broke: go back to mom and dad’s and grab those baby books and again and again and again the cycle repeats and repeats and repeats….
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 9:03 PM UTC
***** and whiskey
mind gets slippery
uneven slopes down your body of..
hope,
one day, to understand
pessimistic feelings
fading away in the distance of ones thoughts
impaired
for moments of time
moments of life
escape
within the reach of my fingers
i can feel the exit on the tip of my grasp
subzero liquor bottles numb my soul inside
as i take a sip that drips down my spine
chilling
over an uneasy stomach
words ***** as i open my mouth to
express
certain sentiments boiled deep into a gut wrenching void
of living with distant reflections
intoxicated thoughts tangled in the brain.
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 8:09 PM UTC
Walking barefoot down rocky dirt paths.
Kicking up clouds of dust with each step,
testing the thickness of my soles soul,
I found comfort in the pain of each sharp stone,
digging deep. Comfort in pessimistic understanding.
Knowing, the next wouldn't hurt as bad.
Wounds turn to callus. Hardened skin, hardens within.
Each weathered scar, reminder of hard earned strength.
Ritual of self inflicted mutilation by choice, rocky dirt path
by fate. Walking, walking, still. Still barefoot
down rocky, dirt paths.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 8:45 PM UTC
Jealous
No Trust
Yelling, Fighting, Blaming
Heartbroken- I'm a monster
Jealous
Bitter
No Happiness
Sulk, Withdrawn, Silent,
Pessimistic about the future
Bitter
I
Did This
Blaming, Screaming, Pushing
Realizing, it was me
I
Monster
My own
Creating, Forming, Spawning
Pity for the creature
Monster
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
She pollutes the starry night skies
with her aspirations,
its her imagination
the only thing pushing life forward
Her dreams and her hopes
They're her motivation
They're the coal to the fire
They're the oxygen to the living
They're the land to the sea
It's the optimism in this pessimistic hell hole
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 2:29 AM UTC
(the tics will talk 'til twelve o'clock)
When we make time,
When we listen:
The theistic preach deistic talk;
The atheistic preach pragmatic talk;
The agnostic preach proleptic talk;
The heretic preach shismatic talk;
The mystic preach prophetic talk.
(the mesianic and satanic never stop)
When we have time;
Then we listen:
The optimistic teach hypnotic talk;
The pessimistic teach sarcastic talk;
The altruistic teach empathetic talk;
The idealistic teach synergistic talk;
The pacifistic teach semantic talk;
The body politic teach charismatic talk;
The technocratic teach robotic talk;
The romantic teach poetic talk;
The critic teach cathartic talk;
The moralistic teach dualistic talk;
The ascetic teach platonic talk.
(the artist would rather not talk)
When we find time,
Do we listen:
The lunatic speak quizzotic talk;
The neurotic speak pathetic talk;
The chauvanistic speak monistic talk;
The nihilistic speak ballistic talk;
The hedonist speak narcissistic talk;
The futuristic speak galactic talk.
(the minimalist hasn't the time to talk)
Just don't.
Look.
Some tic reset the clock.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 12:15 AM UTC
Six weeks strong
Wounds have healed
Tried to stop an addiction
But became so unhappy
Thoughts became worse
More pessimistic
Demons won't stop pestering
Self hatred grew stronger
Turned to the pain
Knowing that it is just an illusion
Thinking it would help escape
The struggles of life
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 6:57 PM UTC
Messy hair,
Baggy clothes.
My appearance may be bizarre,
But my thinking glows.
Smudged mascara,
Faded lipstick.
Trying to keep up my tiara,
But I’m a little pessimistic.
Five-inch heels,
Bright red dress.
My attitude is my appeal,
My knowledge is what’ll get you possessed.
Not saying that I’m perfect,
Not saying that I’m the best.
But just be careful,
My success has gotten you oppressed.
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 3:15 PM UTC
There is pain
Confusing
Anger
The world
Can be messy
Sometimes
It can seem
Like the world
Has gone crazy
Its easy to focus on
All the things
That are going
Wrong
Living pessimistically
Instead of looking
Seeing all
The beauty
That is all
Around us
We live in
A beautiful world
Even as far
As things have gotten
We still live
In a beautiful place
Even as crazy as thing
Might seem
There are still people
Who are living
And showing people
What love really means
There are still people
Helping people heal
Showing people kindness
Grace
Mercy
Showing people
How to love
One heart
At a time
There is still
Healing
We are never
Too far away
To receive it
We just have to
Start looking
And finding the beauty
Instead of always
Seeing the negative
Living pessimistically
And start seeing
Things
In a different way
Aug 16, 2012
Aug 16, 2012 at 10:47 AM UTC
You feel you're invincible
being that your sanity is uncontrollable
strolling around with your shoulders past the birds
past the planes
your ignorance succeeds in innumerable ways
your sight is weak
your mind is enable to capture
it's buried under life's adversities and Earth's pleasure
you don't know when to stop so you flood yourself
until you're lame at your ankles
and paralyzed in your emotions
you wend through life this way
well you try
stuck in misery
with no lane to merge
frustration is your best friend
a human is impossible and
incapable of the acceptance
your belittlement draws mankind away
no one wants to attend a pity party
unless their accompanied to your VIP
and to reserve
you are the one to RSVP
Enlighten heads will stray away
pessimism is a curse
rapidly spread by the weak
you have distress and frustration
suppressed
strangled screams
holds your eyelids open at night
deliberations controls your emotions
controls your feet
throughout the day
you are terrified of tangibility
so you indulge yourself excessively
burying your true identity
becoming irritable when bearing your sober mind
if only you knew how divine you are
you would grow to love yourself
in ways incompetent of how you could love so hard
look yourself in your eyes
find who you are
even if you have to savagely search
you'll see the soul people has grown to
love so much
you'll notice your beauty
that covers endless realms
or your strength that could hurl a boulder
No one can help you discover
your destiny
it's your journey you'll have to make alone
but during the expedition and constant footsteps
the process of elimination could be your guide
find your inner child
it can help your prevail that's
where you once had happiness
your joy was established there
because if you continue the silencing
of your heart's cries and
your soul's screams
you'll live a life analogous to hell
and that is
a nightmare's worst dream
Copy Right 2014
©Patty Ann
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 1:18 PM UTC
On the road to achievement one has to be hopeful and optimistic
and can’t really afford at any time to be doubtful and pessimistic.
Nov 21, 2010
Nov 21, 2010 at 2:42 AM UTC