"relied" poems
Man has been gifted a great prize
Although they never assumed it would be their demise
Centuries ago the technology produced
Relied upon humans for a little boost
However now it seems every thought by a man
Requires for technology to come up with the plan
It seems man's intelligence has began to backtrack
Similar to being subdued in a flashback
All the knowledge they've acquired
Is something that cannot not be admired
Their lives are corrupted by the media
They get information from the Internet- not by encyclopedia
There is still a chance for them to turn it all around
And use these faults to help with the rebound
However if they continue on as shown
Their advancements will soon be marked with a headstone.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 1:52 AM UTC
Entry ~
You were the first man that ever broke my heart. It was the day I was born. You held me in your arms and made me a promise that would rip us both apart. You promised to love me unconditionally from the start. But time passed and over the years those words faded from your heart. In the presence of a war when you had one foot out the door. There are vacancies in my memories where a father should have played a part. Like teaching me to drive a car, or telling me don't believe boys that say I love you from the start. Instead, I looked at every boy with tears in my eyes and willingly accepted every single lie, thinking maybe if I part my thighs they'll learn to love how broken I am inside, but they never do. Just like you they leave without a single clue and I'm left alone, used, wishing my daddy would have loved me too. And I'm not writing this to blame you, or break you, or tell you I hate you. I've made mistakes too. Ones deeply rooted in my relationship with you. And I get that maybe you didn't have a clue that your daughter was struggling in the world without you. But I relied on you to set the standard for boys I would let into my heart. By the time I was sixteen, I felt like a tortured piece of art. I learned to love myself of course. Over the years of ripping myself apart I learned to chart the darkness in my own heart. I don't blame you anymore for my broken parts. I'm healed from being angry at you. I'm writing this to tell you I'm sorry for failing you, and I'm sorry you failed me too.
Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 12:07 PM UTC
There once was a man
Whose livelihood was rubber.
He worked long and hard; and wore a tan,
He was a plantation tapper.
One night he packed,
In haste after a long day of toil.
Quickly had his belongings all sacked
Under light from a lantern that reeked of kerosene oil.
He was ready, flame from the lantern he did ****
Overhead, the midnight moon brightly shone.
Bound his sack to the rack above the rear wheel,
Mounted his bicycle and soon he was gone.
The dirt trail leading back,
Undulating with gravel all strewn.
Almost treacherous this forgotten track
He only relied on light from the moon.
The air was cool just like any other,
But something was different about this night.
Squinting ahead he spotted a figure.
Flagging him down was a lady in white...
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 10:38 PM UTC
Walk by alone,
or have people by the side.
The picnic bench is one that is relied.
To be a go-to place no matter
the situation.
Put on a red and white table cloth,
have a picnic,
choose your recreation.
Walk over and put your foot on the bench.
Make a phone-call,
or sing in the rain and get drenched.
Have a date see how it goes,
the people who come by change,
but the picnic bench knows
it has nowhere else to go.
A necessity that people are unaware.
Since the limit is six,
lucky seven,
pull up a chair.
Light a candle in this dark summer night.
We have food, a fire pit that is cooking,
a guitar, marshmallows to roast, friendship,
and this picnic bench makes it all right.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 2:44 PM UTC
He had a red raised bump from writing too long
Now, I feel a proud resistance from my 36 ‘o clock shadow’s frill
Summer cicadas, on Cranfield Road, always sang their song
and the sun set behind our blue Appalachian foothill
Now, I feel a proud resistance from my 36 ‘o clock shadow’s frill
I got to shoot Dad’s 30/30 rifle when I was fourteen
and the sun set behind our blue Appalachian foothill
No other Bayless has ever seen Peru’s countryside eaten in fire and morphine
I got to shoot Dad’s 30/30 rifle when I was fourteen
but Mom has always been a vegetarian (except for some fish)
No other Bayless has ever seen Peru’s countryside eaten in fire and morphine
Cheese, fruit, and silence is our favorite family dish
But mom has always been a vegetarian (except for some fish)
Mimi and Leiron love cats and Pops and I on ink relied
Cheese, fruit, and silence is our favorite family dish
Mimi’s glasses, shaken by sobs and laughter, fell off when he died
Mimi and Leiron love cats and Pops and I on ink relied
his dead lips were painted a shade too red, inexcusably
Mimi’s glasses, shaken by sobs and laughter, fell off when he died
The trashcan in my room was filled with murdered versions of his eulogy
his dead lips were painted a shade too pink, inexcusably
Summer cicadas, on Cranfield Road, always sang their song
The trashcan in my room was filled with murdered versions of his eulogy
He has a red raised bump from writing too long.
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 10:44 PM UTC
If you visit google's home page today
You will see a Japanese man
Examining noodles with a microscope
Hahaha
Thank you Momofuku Ando!
For inventing Top Ramen
Although not the healthiest choice
Here are the sodium levels for each flavor
Top Ramen Oriental Flavor-- 800 mg 33% daily value
Top Ramen Beef Flavor-- 760 mg 32 % daily value
Top Ramen Chicken Flavor-- 910 mg 38% daily value
Top Ramen Shrimp Flavor-- 860 mg 36% daily value
Top Ramen Picante Beef Flavor-- 780 mg 32% daily value
Top Ramen Chili Flavor-- 760 mg 32% daily value
If you are watching your sodium levels
Stay away from the chicken and shrimp flavors
Lol!
Many college students
Throughout the past few decades
Have relied on Top Ramen
As they crammed for their exams
I have even indulged
And enjoyed Top Ramen
Once or twice
During my early college years
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
Post person or whatever.
Always turning up.
Regardless of the weather
I feel for the postie upon this chilly day.
Relied upon to bring with him, all Christmas in his sack.
Bringing bills and festive notes from Southampton to John'O'Groats.
No suprise from Santa Claus.
Just a chilly postman going to the doors.
Through rain and snow the postman goes.
Trotting with his smile intact.
Waiting for Christmas to come around again.
His mailbag always laden, that's a fact for sure.
I wonder when the day of e-cards supercede.
The postman may redundant, not coming to my door!
Thank you post person,
You do a vital job.
(C) LIVVI
Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 11:27 AM UTC
We used to be so close
We played and relied so much on each other
But time is so cruel
To create this deafening distance
A distance that seems so far
I am not that friend anymore
How have you been?
What have you been up to?
It seems like I won't be able to ask
Why has it gone this way
Its harsh I know
Its time where we have to part
I will treasure the times we had
The laughters and sorrows
The times where we tried to find ourselves
They are oh so precious to me
Your chapter in my life has come to a close
So farewell my friend
Hi my acquaintance
Your presence is valued
But then again it will never be the same
Lets just move on
So bye my acquaintance
Hope to see you again
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 7:41 AM UTC
Little ones they run, forever young,
Avoiding the pain while strung
Upon their good times with glib tongues.
Confide, Relied, And Died.
Slip, Slide, Rip, Glide.
Never could they see my bleeding soul
That dripped the color charcoal,
Yet for me, there was no extol.
The light shone through those eyes
And what it does to me defies
All life has shown me it implies.
Confide, Relied, And Died.
Slip, Slide, Rip, Glide.
I fight the demon with these words
To ensure the avoidance of hazards
Of the knife, in hope of being lovebirds.
Sighed, Relied, And Guided.
Pried, Tried, Beside Her, I Flied.
Jul 2, 2011
Jul 2, 2011 at 8:30 AM UTC
I was a child filled with wonder
filled with love and curiosity.
I was a child who loved questions
and to wander without anxiety.
Not even a year old
had my heart turned cold.
As a child,
I was relied on,
depended on,
beaten on.
As a child,
I only knew pain,
heartache
and how life
truly was.
Life wasn't fair
not even to a child.
Not to a child's heart
without a care.
Only a few rays of light
shed through the cracks
in the wall of my heart.
Not even an adult
had my eyes become
so old . . .so alone.
The only thought that remained
"Become stronger. Stronger.
No limitations, no excuses."
I had to be stronger for her.
So she wouldn't crumble.
I have become stronger
but I have become a stranger.
My strength leaves me though,
when he holds me tightly.
His arms become my home.
and his heart is my life.
This was my answer,
she has also grown stronger.
I have been on autopilot all along.
I should have just known.
I am Strong on my own.
But I am Stronger
with the friends I have found.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 5:28 PM UTC
The dust will gather on beaten forge
which crafted hardened steel.
Even hardest blade it gorged,
but all forget the Blacksmith.
Rooted deep in township’s yore
with a trade of kings and conquest.
Upon him once relied your lore,
but all forget the Blacksmith.
Leathered hands, up night and day
with visage of steel and focus.
Sparks will reign and fly and spray,
but all forget the Blacksmith.
But when your steed wears down his hooves
or your gate-posts starts to splinter,
you’ll be found needing hardened grooves;
you won’t forget the Blacksmith.
For it is he who works all day
And keep the townsfolk working.
If you need hardship kept at bay,
Don’t forget the Blacksmith.
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 6:21 AM UTC
we'm from the valleys,
high in wales,
dull as donkeys,
hard as nails.
torvaen town,blaenavon gwent,
council caves,that some pay rent.
black and white tellys,
run on gas,
houses wiv lectric,is upper class.
we shoplift in winter,
cos summers no good,
you can't wear coats,
you can't wear hoods.
we once mined coal,
made steel and iron,
honest hardmen,
pittance relied on.
now thats all gone,
thro government bullies,
now hoodies steal goodies,
from tesco and woolies.
valley boy logic,
philosophy real,
all good fings come.
....to those who steal.
Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 9:58 AM UTC
Margy shouts her advice from outside Greggs
unsolicited, but often needed
usually it concerns fashion
- the choice of a scarf
- inappropriate shoes for the weather
- or the state of a pair of trousers, hanging and baring a cleavage
(“No one wants to see that, dear.”)
Margy can be relied upon to wear the same distinct socks
– draped around her stocking feet, their multi-coloured design now greyed
by wear and the Uxbridge Road.
Margy is more reliable than her friends and she tells them as much
(“You’re all a bunch of time wasters.”)
demanding more loyalty and demands from me enough for a cup of tea
- a very expensive one apparently.
And on a Sunday, she’ll kneel and pray throughout the early Eucharist,
declining the bread and wine
(”On, no dear. It’s not a habit I want to cultivate.”)
Jun 19, 2022
Jun 19, 2022 at 3:26 PM UTC
It was considered expedient
To change the unit of measure
To change scale,
To make redundant all
That could be wasted,
Naturally.
Internal communications
Will contrive suitable verbs
To conceal the brutality of profit
To provide surety as required
To the senior management team
As for the rest:
To those whose insecurities
Are relied upon, whose
Middles have expanded, aged
Receded, human resources
Will issue notice of packages
And opportunities of relocation.
The restructure will require
The recruitment of some
Of the hungry young;
Fresh graduates on the newly
Introduced basic scales.
What of your work you enquire?
Those value added strategies
Of differentiation
Of corporate responsibilities,
Family friendly policies?
In this age of austerity
Such approaches, old man,
Are as relevant as a hard drive,
Or hard copy, this is a cloud
Sourced post-crunch
Twitterverse we inhabit,
This is a time for new prospects
This is cloud cuckoo land.
Mar 26, 2010
Mar 26, 2010 at 3:06 AM UTC
Sometimes I do too much
Say too much
Feel too much
And when I don't do enough
I feel lost
I saw how my habits effected me
Now I see how they effect others
My negativity being the leading cause of my world crashing in
But I won't let that win
I just can't
I'm rebuilding the demolished wreck that was my life
And the next time someone tries to knock it down
I will put up a fight
I can't keep living like this
I just cant
Thinking that this dude was the cause
When honestly I just gave up
Relied on others to get me through
When all I did was try and bring them down with me too
I'm sorry
I made my best friend question our friendship
Making her think it was a suicide hotline
1-800-SAVE-ME
I'm sorry
That I let my demons come between us
And thankfully you are the realest person in my life
Who took me
And shook me
Telling me to change or she would back away
I understand space
Just know that I love you
And I'm going to improve
After the musical you won't even recognize me
I'll still be as white as can be
With the same personality
But I will be there for you
Just like you've been there for me
I can't even remember what my smile looks like
But it will be returning tonight
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
I was born a sin.
I was born a lesbian.
For all you who think I chose to be this way.
You made a horrible mistake.
You think I would chose to be hated for my ****** orientation?
Do you think I would chose to get taunted and threatened more than once a week?
Do you think I love the way people stare at me when I so much as wear a button that says tolerance?
Do you think I like getting called a ***** and a sin?
Getting told I'm an abomination to the lord?
Do you think I like reading articals about gay bashing a and hearing from my gay uncle about his expirence growing up gay in nv?
He told me once when I first came out that I don't know if I'm lesbian, and if I ever think there is a possibility of being straight that I'd better go take that chance.
He knew what I would go through and wanted to protect me.
I got taunted and teased at school.
Stupid boys didn't leave me alone.
I relied on violence to protect myself.
Finally I began to get angry.
I wasn't okay anymore.
I spend more than half of middle school is residential treatment centers fighting depression and bipolar disorder.
I got to watch my girlfriend/ best friend turn into nothing due to drugs.
So you still think I chose to be this way?
Well **** you!
I didn't get a choice.
It's not like I woke up and thought hey today I think I'll go be lesbian.
Go find a girlfriend and just do it despise all the homophobes out there because I like being difficult.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 1:03 PM UTC
If you take away the ticker-tape barriers
and the scattered signs for luggage,
vending machines and airport
senior leadership teams,
all you’ll have is a hall of
travel.
Some seats remain
for the elderly to reside in,
they’re checking holiday books
and pamphlet guides.
Floor space has curdled
into a mess of white-deodorant-
stained teens who want a
good night’s sleep like
the marines across the way.
They, the marines, joke about
the weather, the women, the
watered down beverages from broken
vending machines and shit-cafe-
expensive-coffee down the strip.
De Gaulle is but a roof now:
drains and curving stretches of
eyebrow iron,
not the general France
once relied upon.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 1:54 PM UTC
The world’s on a street,
on a string, running
at incomprehensible speeds-
well it’s a 30 zone
but it might as well be
a highway for the kids-
those who pray on their knees on Sundays to please their mothers.
*Mouthing lyrics against the pillow
your lips skimming the linen,
the blinds are half cut
letting light in, highlighting your out-of-the-bed foot.
Alarm clock call was late as we relied on the front desk,
the telephone wire twisted behind cavity wall green,
so we wake together to inner city rooster roar
with the traffic tearing past and the cafes opening up to more coffee drinkers and business smokers.
We’ll get our to-go coffees
in a spree of NFC later,
watch sons saying to dads that they need to go wee
and start our day again with a hotel cup of tea.*
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 3:25 PM UTC
The
***tilt of my seesaw
is decidedly downward facing dog:
and there’s no rush to judgment,
for the powers that be,
be delighted by slow-walking,
making the waiting
max-tortuous,
but am of an age when everything,
even the long buried sins and unkept promises, poke and **** nonstop,
and the formulae once relied upon
to ease incipient self-deception,
to temporize and salve the consternations
of unkempt aggravated remorse failures,
as aged misdemeanors be matured felonies,
I blurt and declare guilt to all, alas,
and yet,
always an
and yet
in the ultimate crushing of
tardiness, knotted by an indignity of silence,
no one is desirous
of taking my***
confession
5:10pm
Thu Jan 28
2023
Jan 30, 2023
Jan 30, 2023 at 3:41 PM UTC
Today, a mistake was made
Some words were said,
my sight went red
and my bond with you was severely frayed
Now, **I'm ******
Here's something that you missed
*you ****** up*
I've been betrayed
So go to Hell and tell Satan
you're a heathen worth hating
Today, a memory was lost
Some things were forgotten
I'm paying the cost
and all the love we shared has been tossed
Out the window
Here's something you don't know
**I ******* hate you**
I'm over all the ********
So next time you decide to speak my name
Remember you lost and I'm the game
Today, a truth shined through
all the lies
in which you relied
I can't stand how **I got ******* while you always got the best of me
Now I'm enraged enough to say,
**** you!"**
Yeah, today my blood congealed
I sewed the wound shut,
but the scar will never heal
For this,
**I ******* hate you.**
and I hope your death hurts a great deal
Today, a lie was told
As if it was the gods honest truth
I can see it all clearly now
But what's the use?
I'm tattered, battered and abused
And I'm blaming it all on you
I've lost so much already
What else is there to lose?
**I ******* hate you!**
What story is there to tell?
What's left to say?
How about this....
GO TO HELL!!!
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 6:23 PM UTC
I had a light in me
It shone so bright that people could see what was inside
I talked about things that I loved religiously
And I clearly knew what I wanted to do
I did not give two *****
About what anyone thought of my work
Until I found myself wanting recognition
I asked people to tell me what was good and what was bad
I saw no wrong in that
Neither did they
Until I realized that I craved for compliments
I craved the praise
It was not for bad intentions
I wanted to get better
I wanted to be heard
I wanted the world to know me
But slowly, I became obsessed
I started relying on people
I relied on them to tell me my work is good
While I no longer believed in myself
The more they told me it was not good enough;
That I was not good enough
My light started to dim
And discouragement was staring me right in the face
I spent so long minding what everyone else thought of me
That I forgot the reason I was doing what I was doing
I listened to what everybody wanted me to do
I pushed aside the things that I wanted to do for myself
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 11:23 AM UTC
Swindon used to be a working railway town
the works then dominated our lives.
Covering so much land under the bridges
most of the jobs were within.
In those days the ****** was our alarm clock
bringing them to work in a flock.
Three ****** blasts echoed over the wide area
we all relied on that sound.
Part of our lives to us a unique local feature
on the third ****** you were late.
In the works most had a relation past on present
at home time avoiding the bikes an event.
The ****** was silenced when it was closed down
sites and sounds changed there after.
New Swindon was built specifically for the railway
greatly missed since it went away.
The Foureyed Poet.
Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 6:15 PM UTC