"riddance" poems
The punitive silences,
the bad atmosphere they generate,
the mind-games they use to try to **** you in
are telltale signs of the toxic person.
It could be your in-laws, a parent, coworker, your boss or spouse,
a sibling, a roommate, boyfriend or girlfriend,
someone you want out of the house.
Toxic people want to make you miserable.
Especially if you're a decent sort, they hone in on you like a heat-seeking missile.
They spew their negativity and blame it on you.
They lie constantly, or twist the facts to suit their changing needs of the moment
and they never apologize (so don't expect an apology, ever).
With a toxic person there is no reciprocity.
They sprinkle their toxic dust on you. It makes them feel better.
Their ulterior goal is to demean you, to make you feel smaller.
They project their worst tendencies onto you,
find fault with you for traits you don't possess---
a shadow of the **** that lurks inside them.
They try to dictate the emotional atmosphere
through their attitude or twisted mood.
They drain you of your energy, bring you down,
They'll always find a reason why your good news isn't great news.
Their agenda is to cut you down to their size,
to manipulate and control
to **** you over while they play the injured party.
Confront the bully. Speak up to the manipulator, the trickster, the backstabber.
but beyond a certain point
there is no point in arguing with them.
Don't try to change the toxic person. You can't.
You'd have better luck changing an orangutan into **** sapiens.
Only a shrink could change them, and then only if they hit rock-bottom.
Don't try to justify yourself. It's a waste of time which would only draw you deeper into their net.
Set boundaries to keep their negativity in check.
Stop trying to please them.
Let that toxic somebody in your life know you're onto them
and they can't get away with it anymore.
Don't fall into their trap, don't get caught up in their life-dramas
or try to get them out of trouble. Don't let them instill guilt in you.
But try not to take their toxicity personally.
Remember, it's them, not you. You are not to blame
though they desperately want you to feel you've done something wrong.
If necessary (and if possible), delete the toxic person from your life and move on.
Know when enough is enough.
Saying good riddance doesn't necessarily mean you hate them, it means
your own well-being comes first.
Immunize yourself. Preserve your inner strength.
Set your own rules.
And, when possible, just walk away.
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 2:23 AM UTC
Dear Racism,
You, that exist but should never have been.
Your children, Hatred and Division have grown up among us.
Rooted themselves wherever they pleased.
You have caused enough pain.
You will be silenced.
Today we took the 1st step, as ONE Nation.
Today we remembered. Today we said thank you.
My heart is heavy, yet calm.
Walking among my fellow brothers and sisters,
I sensed the same in them.
We have been changed.
Liberated.
Ubuntu.
Freedom is ours for the taking.
The long walk has been walked for us.
We need to be as strong now.
We need to carry on the work.
Our leaders need to lead,
by following the dreams of the people,
Our leaders need to put themselves last,
and the people they serve, first.
Let it not be in vain.
For then I fear, we are all lost.
Dear Racism,
Goodbye. And good riddance.
Sincerely,
The Nation of UBUNTU.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 11:40 PM UTC
Dear Lesley,
I'm sorry to have to do this through a letter, but
last time your crying just humiliated
the other couples in your group session.
Although, this might save embarrassment,
and make me look better, now that we are
both sleeping with other people. (If you
can call conjugal visits to your ex-husband people.)
This letter may well be the last memory
you will have of me, if your social worker
lets you keep it as a memento anyway.
I am leaving, and I won't be looking back either.
I am sure you won't be surprised or terribly upset.
It is completely your fault, no doubt about it!
Mainly, it is your long history with lying problems,
even more than your alcoholism, that keeps me
from being even remotely interested in continuing
this relationship with you. (I told you I forgave
you for sleeping with your boss, but I guess I
never really did.)
You would be so much better off finding someone
that can accept the emotional baggage that
you carry around, the ones with the orange tags.
Maybe your analyst can explain that to you better
than I can. I must say, I will miss some of the exciting
times we had together. Like when you got so drunk
and flirted with my father at our family Christmas
dinner. My mom has still not gotten the red wine stain
out of the tablecloth where you puked on it.
I'm glad this is finally done and we can go our
separate ways. I think you will find someone else
with whom to have an unhealthy relationship based
on physical attraction and a passion for strip-club bars.
Hopefully, this will happen incredibly far away.
Good riddance, and Happy New Year.
PS Maybe you should just go back to being a lesbian.
PPS I have no idea where you parked your car.
Jan 12, 2012
Jan 12, 2012 at 2:23 PM UTC
Wild rose, aggressive usurper,
relentless conqueror of attention, quarrels
wants to make me jelous,
pretends she is nothing but poetry distilled,
stops at every table and whispers:
"He is hard prose, the syntax, I can't grasp"
Unmindful of sly looks from various corners,
that in fact suggest, I had good riddance,
I am concerned about the clutter on my desk,
that escaped my notice during the days I was in that chasm
I was deeply in to Dostoevsky,
my cleansing ritual on such occasions: the Russian masters
when she passed my cubicle she spies Chekhov
lying on my table, waiting his turn
"The lady with the lapdog"* she reads aloud, with suspicion
would she ever understand, what Dostoevsky to me,
would have told?
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
Mr. Jones you’re an All Star
You broke my Achy Breaky Heart
Because you’re cold as Ice Ice Baby
I saw The Sign but
I Would Do Anything for Love
If you don’t want What I Got
Good Riddance
My Heart Will Go On
But if you Wannabe
Living the Vida loca
Play that Funky Music
Baby One More Time
What’s my Age Again?
Smells like Teen Spirit
Its My Life and I feel like it’s over
Just Say My Name or
Quit Playing Games with my Heart
Genie in a Bottle please grant me three wishes
Because my life Don’t Impress Me Much.
I’m Blue. Da ba dee.
Im Torn.
Its been One Week
And I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing.
And of course there is No Rain.
Because all my Tears are in Heaven
I think I would enjoy an Iris
Much more than a Kiss from a Rose.
Feb 14, 2010
Feb 14, 2010 at 3:49 PM UTC
A Few lines etched where no words give weight.
Good riddance say the veterans
Of a nation gone sour with grief
Like a lemon slice evaporating onto the tongue of the sick.
But when the young yearn for White Nights,
The old claim they are blinding lights to the cold sugary substance
That supplants an easy path.
The bullithole rush of renewal and loneliness and progress thwarted and abandoned,
Inertia seeping through
Into a cold summer's day.
Between the cursing slant of sleek paved roadstrips,
And the burning briars that thresh the border's haunt,
What is picture postcard emerald
Is in that same instance soviet architect gray.
These are the sleepers bereft of the dream
whose twenty-five stories high
or ghost estates
are domes to cast out the howling banshees, those suffrage of the real
to be re-thought as mere props which surround the haloed glowing screen.
So sheen the Motherland glows in untarnished eyes
Familiar solely with glass behemoths parading with their reflections
In grey water-drizzled streets,
Only to be replaced by iridescent rainbows that foster a hope.
A hope that was packaged and sold two decades back
Since it was not worth carrying into the New World.
The water-trough falls to where the electric line banishes, connects a spike,
"rejuvenate the breakfast table"-some far-off God reports, Hades still waiting,
Intel-chip Blue, epiphany at the gates.
Jun 11, 2012
Jun 11, 2012 at 9:02 AM UTC
Goodbye wasps
Goodbye bees
Goodbye pollen from the trees
Goodbye midges
Goodbye flies
Goodbye scorching cloudless skies
Goodbye seagulls
Goodbye ants
Goodbye sunbathers in tiny pants
Goodbye sunburn
Goodbye oiled skin
Goodbye iced drinks laced with gin
Goodbye tourists
Goodbye throngs
Goodbye men wearing sarongs
Goodbye hosepipe
Goodbye lawn mower
Welcome to the noisy leaf blower
Hello Autumn
Hello cool bright day
Hello rolling around in the hay
Hello harvest
Hello fruits
Hello hiking in hiking boots
Hello warm colours
Hello warm hearts
Good riddance Summer
Autumn starts
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 4:07 AM UTC
I'm Archie Andrews with satanic tattoos
The Lucifer beneath your cute suburb
I'm the devil who hides inside the back of your mind
And you hate me but you love the way I hurt,
Don't you baby?
My venom is still in your veins
Withdrawal is driving you insane
There's only one cure for the pain
And you'll never be getting that again
I am your EVIL
EX
BOYFRIEND
And though I tried to make amends
Your bitterness will never end
So I guess this is
Good Riddance
I know you miss me but you're still with him now
You hate me - but you keep on calling me, somehow...
When you get drunk, it's all "I need you, baby!"
But once you sober up I know **** well you'll ******* hate me
All over again....
My venom is still in your veins
Withdrawal is driving you insane
There's only one cure for the pain
And you're never getting that again!
I am your EVIL
EX
BOYFRIEND
And though I tried to make amends
Your bitterness will never end
So farewell
and Good Riddance
I'm the EVIL EX BOYFRIEND
All over again....
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 5:34 PM UTC
A Few lines etched where no words give weight.
Good riddance say the veterans
Of a nation gone sour with grief
Like a lemon slice evaporating onto the tongue of the sick.
But when the young yearn for White Nights,
The old claim they are blinding lights to the cold sugary substance
That supplants an easy path.
The bullithole rush of renewal and lonliness and progress thwarted and abandoned,
Inertia seeping through
Into a cold summer's day.
Between the cursing slant of sleek paved roadstrips,
And the burning briars that thresh the border's haunt,
What is picture postcard emerald
Is in that same instance soviet architect gray.
These are the sleepers bereft of the dream
whose twenty-five stories high
or ghost estates
are domes to cast out the howling banshees,those suffrage of the real
to be re-thought as mere props which surround the haloed glowing screen.
So sheen the Motherland glows in untarnished eyes
Familiar solely with glass behemoths parading with their reflections
In grey water-drizzled streets,
Only to be replaced by iridescent rainbows that foster a hope.
A hope that was packaged and sold two decades back
Since it was not worth carrying into the New World.
The water-trough delving where the electric line banishes,connects a spike,
"rejuvenate the breakfast table"-some far-off God reports, Hades still waiting,
Intel-chip Blue, epiphany at the gates.
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 5:24 AM UTC
When you die I will surely mourn,
I will miss the warmth of your embrace,
A blanket in the cold cruelty of the night,
I will miss how you'd tell me,
"Darling, it'll be better in the morning"
But it'll only be better after the mourning,
Oh Mother we're all going to die,
That's certain,
And there will be just as much not to miss,
I will not miss your words sharp as blades,
Cutting away slowly at my insides,
And the way they stuck like severed tacks in my mind,
I will not miss your beliefs,
So isolated and different from mine,
Your good intentions and fouler methods,
I will not miss the strike of your hands,
Like thunder,
Or your temper,
Like a hurricane,
Nor the vigilant and wary eye of a self-proclaimed victim,
An agent in broad daylight, lurking, critical and hideous,
But most of all, I will not miss your condescension,
Oh Mother,
I know I told you I'd never bow,
But just this once,
At your tombstone,
I will be free of it,
The best of the worst and the worst of the best,
I will mourn,
I'll take a bow for you,
Good riddance, I'll miss you,
Adieu, I love you,
And Mama?
Godspeed Mama, Godspeed.
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 12:13 AM UTC
Hello noise
Hello voice
Hello written
Hello choice
Hello vice
Hello might
Hello mint
Hello cello
Hello yellow
Hello find
Hello mind
Hello bite
Hello bruise
Hello nerd
Hello ****
Hello world
Hello heard
Hello hand
Hello match
Hello friend
Hello chance
Hello thunder
Hello melt
Hello riddance
Hello resistance
Hello stance
Hello flash
Hello mash
Hello mask
Hello fellow
Hello mellow
Hello bend
Hello mend
Hello Kitty
Good-bye man
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 11:54 AM UTC
I know
NOW
after
all these years
how
it was
You
trapped me
...You won
me
over
all else
...You
were gifted
I
searched
the world over
for...
someone
possesing
KNOWLEDGE....
all
...the right words
You
became
all of me.
How did
you do that
....when
you had
never ever
even
stepped
one foot
out of your...
...Appalachia
*******
MAGICK!!!
...Not the good kind.
...Hillbilly
GREATNESS
you
were
bought and
you
were paid
for
EVIL intention.
... all you
will ever
be.
in
my mind
good riddance
*******
hillbilly.
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
Sometimes, I still long for the taste of your tongue
In my mouth.
How your brutal hands that ripped
My heart from my chest
Once caressed my back and waist.
I wasted love on you.
My glass full
From years of saving;
Sacrificing other gentleman callers
and their date dollars.
Spending nights alone,
Extending my hand out the window
Collecting ‘love drops’
That filter in my cup.
I poured everything into your body.
How was I to know
You would drain
Every
Last
Drop?
Lost.
All the fluid of my feelings
Kept safe for good keeping,
Gone.
In seconds
…All
Drains
Away…
Amazingly,
All my feelings that poured into your body
Left no impression or influence.
You’re still cold;
A one-track mind.
A drain you are.
Maybe it be best
I fall in love with a plumber next.
To give back what was mine
And he can provide
The Tools I need to avoid
Fools
Like
You.
Currently,
My cup holds ice.
But in time, the ice will melt
From the warmth of another love
And a pair of hands
That can hold my heart.
I painfully learned
That my cup is not meant to be empty
And completely given to someone.
The majority is for me
I won’t be left thirsty.
Drip…
Drop…
Hear that?
It’s my cup, re-filling.
Good riddance.
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 8:43 PM UTC
probably because i keep putting you first,
before everything else that i ever thought of before -
these feelings of missing people before i love them too much
haunt me everyday
you don't understand,
you still go home to the same people you laid next to on a changing table, have beers with people who learned to suckle on their thumbs
around the same time as you
the people i go home to
i shook their hands as we both signed our 1-year lease
and soon i'll shake their hands goodbye and good riddance
i hold these ******* fears and horrifies and terrifies and tears
in my chest, i can't afford to keep loving people and letting them go
into the world without me at their side -
i hate loving people and cutting these red strings that connect us,
i love so deeply and i just want to see you succeed and give you
flowers and kisses, and hold you in my arms when you feel the world
crumbling down around you -
i promise i can love, my love is a wicked one
i just cant keep loving and breaking, loving and breaking
when can i love and love and love and love
without end
with you
you terrify me
you're here and then you're gone
and you try to reassure me that you're always always here
but i can't trust it when you only come and peek
into my life for 5 seconds at a time and then you're gone
living your own,
i'm so scared you'll love someone else and leave because i am
so in love with you and loving and breaking with you
will **** me
it'll **** me
let me **** my heart first before you try to do it yourself
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 4:59 PM UTC
like the cool summer wind you came as the sun fell beneath the horizon
and the moon poked its shiny bald head out, in a vague attempt
to make everything right you held my hand from dusk until dawn
we named constellations and spoke of imaginary lives
that you promised would come true should i have the patience to wait
but as the sun began to rise, you packed my bags,
you rushed me to the station,
you bought my train ticket
with the words good riddance
underneath your breath
like a smack in the face
with desperation
i begged
you
to let me stay
you left before the train did and as it pulled out of its tracks
with the sound of speed, the sight of powerlines and blurry trees
and i am (another broken promise, another mistake,
another you, another me, another ex, another us,
another one that bit the dust) gone
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 2:21 AM UTC
i'll always be there outside of the box
where you spill out your burdens to god
tell me everything you've done wrong-
just unpend your sins, you're cleansed, now you win
i'm
the convenient answer
to feeling remorseful about what you've done
made a mistake? i'm here, don't you wait
i've got all the time you need
and on it goes; my shoulder
for you to lean on will always be there
but don't bother to ask me how i'm doing-
you're not supposed to care
i'm tired of being used like an old *****
you rip me to shreds, leave my tongue on the floor
i'm speechless, i'm hurting, held back by my pride
i'm letting my ego take over my mind
i'm playing callous like it's some sort of game
pretending i'm fine when i'm driven insane
you take the wheel from me, steer into a ditch
leaving me battered and broken, unimpressed, not spoken
i've got
my tongue tied in knots
from navigating the tangled webs you drag me through
but i
will never let myself lose
i need to destroy something, run it right through
to reflect my insides after speaking to you
and maybe i'm just a bitter young *****
but i'll take a hit, and i won't let you miss
so drive me into the ground
i won't be beaten down
you can't do much to me;
i can't get much lower now
how far can you bring me down?
yeah, i'll hold my ground
i'm tired of hearing each of your confessions
simply not being able is not a transgression
you're weighing me down with your innocent guilt
i won't feel your trauma if no souls were spilt
i'm so sick
of hearing your troubles; don't say what's amiss
take a hint
your drama won't make or break you
it's no calamity if she hates you
i'm tired of hearing about your petty fights
scuffling over my business won't help with your strife
you think being hateful will show me the light?
you're wrong, good riddance, get out of my life
something so intrinsic isn't abomination
no matter your creed or your denomination
your social life will never make you a saint
and confessing won't stave off my hate
i'm so sick
of hearing your troubles; don't say what's amiss
take a hint
get off of my shoulder, take your own ******* boulder
and live your own life for a bit
don't confess, i'm not impressed,
just live your life and leave me be.
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 4:21 AM UTC
1.Emotional obesity
Her enlarged ego, she proudly wore
as if it was an impregnable armor
what an observer could see was
an emotionally obese siren on the prowl.
her mate too was thoroughly
compatible to her,
when they danced, two enlarged
egos rubbed in a way really wrong.
2.Ego trouble
Every ego is different in shape, size and measure
but in essence all egos are capable of making troubles.
3.Killing ego
Killing ego isn't about blood and gore, it's good riddance,
that's the way to make light go euphoric, proliferate.
4.Ego goes in to a bag
Every individual ego soon finds on its own,
an equally capacious ego bag to carry it around.
5.System breaker
When an ego problem seeps in to a system,
it'd establish it's nuisance value; helps to easily sell it.
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 9:14 AM UTC
Its not deep
But 2 below laughter
grabbing
The ripple heatseeker
Punch glamorous
Wait of a tiger;
Adrenaline flunkie on
Diluted to minimum
Sat is faction.
A conversation starter
Hello impact. **** ***
And good riddance June
Get your own sound.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 9:12 AM UTC
crashing
when you're gone
i can't land alright
nothing holding me back
gravity pushes me in agreeance
good riddance
i was never apart of the blueprint
there wasn't a plan
space out and decide to implode
your immaturity exceeds normalcy
crushed
Jun 13, 2021
Jun 13, 2021 at 8:13 PM UTC
*In deep psychedelic trance
his companion painted
canvases that mix past,
present and future, factually
as quantum physics would vouch;
all of it co-exists, don't turn
a blind eye, it's not fair.
"There is more past here
that try to unseat future,
than the presence of present,
we would make reality sleep
won't believe in its patented lies,
we'd create a present,
in its fantasy, see the future"
The narrative is pictured as fallows:
The Cat and the Mouse
stopped their games,
they invented as a past time,
and also serious business.
Lucky prince befriended
a happy pauper.
The beauty beguiled
the friendly beast,
both eloped and
lived happily somewhere.
The bored king hugged
the leader of the coup
"I was dying
to abdicate at the earliest,
you were my last hope,
good riddance" he yawned,
sounding like cockerel.
He looked much relieved;
uneasy is the head
on which a crown sits
like a ****** politico
at the moment of election result.
The painter watching
what is going on said:
"Well, the colors I selected
this far, were all wrong.
Now, I am going to look twice
before I decide"
But when she worked
on her imagination
her manifesto was thrown out,
she was far more spontaneous
there is the rub.
Can't say, whether
the philosopher was pleased or not,
one can't definitely tell
he only smiled and hurried back to
catch the last bus he missed.*
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 3:09 AM UTC
We have *** everyday. But that's for me.
not you.
There's a reason I close my eyes when I kiss you.
You're the filler-friend. I do not love you.
I don't need your advice, I don't need your lectures.
I need you to do what you're here for, then leave.
Simple as that.
Good Riddance.
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
“He used you,"
said the psychic with a
look of disgust.
He What?
"He used you.”
But, wait!
What about all those magical nights, when the starry indigo sky exposed
our souls - intertwined - endlessly
wrapped in each other’s arms and dreams - believing we
were stopping time?
It was so real,
so authentic – nothing less than Truth.
"He used you."
Nope.
I wanted to scream
in her face -
You are Wrong!
You are Confused!
Your crystal ball is cracked!
(even though she was spot on about every other aspect of my life).
"He used you."
A part of me knew she was right.
(I hate that part).
That part of me that still finds it
hard to breathe when I think about
the sucker punch he slammed
into my heart on the last day
I ever saw his face again.
A perfect swing
right through my soul,
as a goodbye
(good riddance?)
gift.
“He used you.”
Time Heals.
Shut up.
Anger and betrayal are the
hardest to let go of -
as if I’m hanging from the wing of
a moving airplane,
holding on for dear life - not
trusting my own strength.
"He used you."
I won't let go until my
red hot pride ceases to fuel my
stubborness and anger. I won't let go until he feels the same humiliating, soul sucker punch that I did. I won't let go until endless, sleepless nights consume his mind as he obsessively tries to figure out how he could've been so wrong.
Then I can finally release him, and us, and all
of it – the shame the shame the shame -
blow it all away with
one deep sigh!
Like a dandelion ******
upon the wind.
"He used you."
But, he loved me.
"Yet, he used you."
He used me?
He. Used. Me.
I wish she had never mentioned it.
Because he always said he loved me.
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 1:00 AM UTC
First Meetings
First meetings,
open doors,
first time my eyes explores.
my heart thumps,
my breath quickens,
be gone jitterbugs and good riddance.
First meetings,
doors wide open,
words kept close,words unspoken.
life is short, so keep it simple.
keep your heart like its a temple.
First meeting,
doors arise .
I see the upcoming demise.
I see it in your eyes.
the windows of your soul are shining back.
the windows of your soul are ready to attack.
First meetings ,
your heart sets ablaze of wonder and fun.
your spirit like thunder,
your heart just a blunder ,
it went off like a gun.
It shot me straight in the heart,
you shot so straight you almost tore me apart.
first meetings,
cautious doors,
no time to be explored.
First meetings, first encounters, first loves.
~When there’s a first remember there's always a last.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC