"rightfully" poems
I thought I heard it in your voice
An unreal suggestion to sincerity
It was like my heart stopped for a lifetime
As butterflies collided in my stomach
But that all seemed to vanish
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach
And the butterflies retreated rightfully so
The very second you sidestepped such a foolish thought
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 12:18 AM UTC
She carries her burdens across the back of a child.
Rightfully hers to bear but her mind has gone wild.
Scarred grows his mind afraid of life so uncertain.
But she couldn't switch the soul of the carrier of her burden.
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 1:36 AM UTC
Why, when I know
she doesn't notice me, like me back,
or even realizes I'm a living, breathing being?
Why, when I just end up hurt
as the sun touches lips
with the moon and stars?
Why must I allow little butterflies,
pink purple green yellow red black blue gray,
to flutter inside your stomach?
As if my breakfast this morning
was trying to tell me
something.
I can't control myself,
I can't control my emotion:
Love, Hate, Jealousy.
They spill out of my heart, pour into my mind,
changing the way
I think, live life,
act and behave,
my personality;
A broken version of who I am,
who I really am.
Or was.
So yes, I have
a crush.
Because there's something with it,
something that is so...
a d d i c t i n g.
The pain I'm anticipating,
Being hurt as constantly as the moon
changes its face.
A constant flare of excitement,
being able to look at her face again and
Hope.
Hope to be able to get that face time with her.
Even if her time is mine no more,
(it never was)
as others are her time now.
But I want to be happy (at least appear that way)
in front of her so she too
can flash her pearly whites
as her eyes wrinkle from a wide grin,
sometimes a tear rolling down her
soft smooth cheeks
from too much laughing.
All these presents wrapped nice and tight
in one gigantic wrapping
of Disappointment.
And rightfully so,
now that the happy holidays are upon us.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 8:20 AM UTC
mommy loves you unconditionally
even as you soar amongst the clouds
searching for the perfect timing
to come on down
please, forgive my impatience
i just have this undying urge
to have you here
in my arms, clinging to my breast
as i provide you with life
and you provide my breaths
little one, shining so bright
come to me only when you feel it's right
the doctors tell me otherwise
and my womanhood is of questionable might
but i know you are as rightfully my child
just as i am the moon to your night
an infertile mother will forever understand
why so many letters are written to our unborn
with shaken hands
why so many tears have fallen
why you wonder it isn't your calling
to be given a life of other plans
but i know you hear me, little one
and i know you love me too
and i promise to better preserve my body
so that it may be the perfect home for you
until you are ready to bless me with your smile; the uniqueness that is true
everything i do, everything i aim to be,
every dream i work so hard to achieve
i do for you
so please, be slow and easy little one
mommy needs preparation too
just know this,
when you've become tired of waiting;
when you're ready for the world
and you're journey has come to the point of passing through
watch for flashing lights
and smiling faces
and tears of joy
listen for songs of love
because i'll be right there--
for i've been waiting too...
just for you.
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 11:45 PM UTC
We all think we are special
And rightfully so
Because we are
but we all forget we are human
Those who only see we are human
Forget they are special
And rightfully so
Because we are
Somehow on the scale
We got to find the balance
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 12:10 PM UTC
I've done a lot.....
I've done a lot in my lifetime.....
I've done a lot in the past 11 months...
I've felt even more...
I've made decisions....
I've made mistakes....
I've created conclusions and shoved them in the mirror's reflection.
I've made a finalization...
I've terminated the story...
I've concluded this connection.
Now I'm alone...
Now I feel like excess emotions left in a puddle to be stepped in and splashed in, for fun or dismay.
-a muddy disgrace of distaste.
-a muddy reflection of disgust.
-a distraction on the path to your destination.
I feel sick...
Sick to my stomach
Sick in the Mind...
Sickly branches that creep out from my heart, determined to entomb my entire internal system, and hold me there to deal with what level I've continued to stoop myself too.
Myself... the one that's so much better than what she's encountered and how she's figured her future.
I deserve what I have, and what I choose.
I deserve what I get, for what I've chosen.
I'm throwing up...
I'm throwing up everything...
everything that my heart has eaten right out of the palms of those who've given it to me.
I don't wanna feel it anymore....
I don't want that pressure forced on my stomach any longer.
I'm sick...
I'm sick again.
Its all coming up....
I'm letting it out... all the emotions that so rightfully belong on the floor in a jumbled mess rather then crammed in my stomach where they explode with temptation as my stomach thrusts itself in circles....
its looking for a way to let everything go.
My body knows whats right....
I'm emotionally anorexic.
I throw it all away without wanting to let it go, I would rather keep everything that reminds me of that time, that time when my stomach did not churn in agony...
I am miserable....
I am mistaken.... and misjudged...
I am sick...
and distracted...
I'm... lost?
Lost in the mirrors and fine lines... fine lines between punishment and disabilities...
I can see myself....
I see myself pale and done.
Done with everything I'm hearing and thinking right now.
I've gone too far.
I'm done.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 2:56 PM UTC
rightfully
i'm left
i've been wrecked
now arrest me
with your legs
'round my neck
this is wreck-less
i'm a wreck, see?
an ocean filled with sharks
swimming faster than I blink
& all the sharks inside this deep
are all swimming after me
do I surf it out and see
what's waiting up for me
that i attack, i should bite back
like i'm the only one with needs
girl I have wings
& I have feathers
they're just much heavier than yours
they aren't wispy, they aren't soft
it's kind of like i'm made of swords
i'm still a bird
or just a girl
with way too many worlds
I'm sure of what I want
i'm just not sure of where to go
who's to say like who should know
when i've been blinded by your glow
it's just with all of this unknown
I do not need to want you more
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
Show me
true beauty
how waves
break the shore
into individual grains
yet each contains
the whole
crystalline universe
reflecting light
renouncing midnight
Leave me not
upon the sand
barefoot and stripped
recounting sins
to the weary wind
return my heart
to loving grace
salt-scrubbed chambers
cleansed of hate
tenderly reborn
let love
rise from this
arid ground
clear water drawn
from a deeper well
with cupped hands
tend the seeds
so we may eat
of the bounty
that rightfully belongs
to no one
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 9:59 AM UTC
Let me begin this with an apology.
An apology for the way I have been acting lately.
I do not know what I was hoping to achieve,
But I know it created nothing of what I want.
Let me begin this with an apology.
An apology that I know cannot ever encompass
Anything near what it ever rightfully should,
But for you I will still try none-the-less.
I don't ever want to lose you.
For over the last two years you have been my best friend.
Through the good and the bad, it has been us unto the end,
And to hear you say otherwise has turned my world on end.
Regardless of the fact that you might be moving on,
I can only ever be happy for you, and
I told you I would always be here for you, always.
And I do my best to keep my promises and my word.
I don't ever want to lose you.
I know that I may lose bits and pieces as we live and grow,
I don't ever want to lose you,
Your friendship I value over all others, that I know.
You are a part of me, something which you've made clear to me.
For better or worse that's the way it's going to be.
It's simply a fact from which there is no escaping,
And you know what? That's fine with me.
You are my sun. High in my sky.
When I think of you, it brightens my life.
I know I haven't been acting the way these words say.
For that, I hope you might accept my sincerest apology.
You and I were best of friends, something which we said would stay.
I lost sight of that, I strayed from the path.
If you're willing to give it a try, it's something I'd like to get back,
Because I value your friendship and I'd like it there in the end.
Let me end this with an apology.
An apology for my immaturity, the worst of me.
For all we've been through you deserve more.
If you give me the chance, I'll make it up to you with every word.
You are my sun.
You are part of me.
You were my best friend.
Hurting you is something I cannot forgive.
And if you cannot either,
I will understand.
I'm sorry.
This is my apology.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 3:02 AM UTC
Whether it’s burning bridges with people you loved;
We must always remember that our decisions will affect our futures;
Nothing is more true than the fact that whatever goes around comes around;
You are not immune to the cosmic forces of the crowd mind-decisions that you make;
Don’t be surprised when reality catches back up with you and brings you to your knees;
Be a good person, make right and independent decisions in your 20s,You’ll get further in life.
We need to control the invincibility we all feel;
It comes to both men and women and it destroys both;
We feel the need to be the knight in shining armor for our lovers;
As chivalrous as this may seem, I hate to break it to you in shouts;
By setting yourself up for a losing battle, you’ve only ensured your misery;
For the next few months in your 20s, find what rightfully belongs to you and no one else.
If our check is for $9, then we’re most likely spending $30;
Between credit cards, school loans and every other avenue;
No doubt, our need for immediate gratification is worse than ever;
The truth is it’s about making more money, not saving it in any bank;
At the same time, if you have no means for expanding your revenue channels;
Then you must be able to save a few dollars here and there while still in your 20s.
Trying to act like the man rather than learning how to become one;
If more time is spent pretending to be the person you want to be instead;
Then you’ll sink in quick sand without even knowing it or even being told;
A real man is willing to make sacrifices. If you aren’t down to put in the work;
Then please don’t act like you are. You can enjoy the success when you actually attain it.;
Be a man in your 20s, that is, being yourself, being a leader and being no one else on earth.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 4:42 AM UTC
Grace. Grace for me,
She brings Grace forever and eternally,
Grace is like the sunshine;
Forever. Forever mine.
When I was sad she helped me up,
And placed in my hair a yellow buttercup,
She is ALWAYS there for me and I for her;
The cats always love to beside her purr!
Grace is laughter, laughter for me,
Grace is like the graceful waves of the sea,
Grace is mine;
Grace is as pure as sunshine!
She is an angel with wings,
And a kind heart that forever sings,
That sings of peace and love;
And flys upon wings of a dove.
Graceful is my Grace,
She always puts things rightfully in their place,
So things are just as they should be;
Grace forever made for me!
Palm trees bow to her,
And kittens forever purr to her,
She wears a hibiscus crown;
While all the leaves come tumbling down.
Grace loves flowers,
Which sing to her in the long weary hours,
Which comforts her when she cries;
And lifts the burden so she won't sigh!
Grace is amazing,
Grace is saving,
Grace is love;
And she is a peaceful dove!
~Marian~
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 11:40 PM UTC
We never took more
never took any less
of our share
for our hunger
when everyone stared
it is rightfully ours.
Long before
we were
the beggars,
When we had nothing
no more,
did millions of tiny chores.
We were wronged
no one shared,
we looked at them
gave them pitiful stare,
we wanted the same care
and now that we
climbed the ladder
we are no better
that we are having
our healthy dinner,
there is someone
rising upper
working under the sun
this summer
and maybe
we were wrong
and someone knew it better.
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
The park sits in the middle of a bustling city
The skyline visable all around.
There are large oak trees scattered about
And winding paths hug the ground.
A gentle breeze pushes the soft grass
Back and forth with effortless might.
The sunlight pushes its way past the leaves of trees
Creating dappled, swaying light.
This is the city park, where children come to play
Tag and other mischevious games.
Their laughter almost drowns out the hard sound
That of a bustling city rightfully claim.
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
i am sorry but my bones will always love you like hell, like it was war, like the world needs to end in the process, like the hand of god, taking you out of my ribs and now he needs to return it back where it rightfully belong. i will always love you, in godless sacrilege. i am sorry if i don’t know any other way.
Feb 5, 2022
Feb 5, 2022 at 11:56 PM UTC
Lately, I've seen poems trending about how no one should fall in love with a poet, nor should they make a poet helplessly fall in love with them. However, something no one has mentioned yet is what occurs too often: stealing from a poet.
When a poet writes a poem, that poem is the perfect combination of metaphors and imagery created by them for you -- a compilation so beautifully intricate that you can get lost by reading merely a few words, overtaken by an empathetic tide that you did not think would come to the corners of your eyes when you sat down and opened your book or tab or paper.
This is the beauty of poems; they express words that many cannot say in any other variation of any way. Ask a poet to describe their emotions and they will beg you for paper and pen, a computer and a keyboard. And these poems eventually combine to become a part of the poet.
The poems a poet writes become a part of themselves.
That being said, it is not okay to take away from a poet what is rightfully theirs. You do not steal from a poet because you are searching for an idea, or because you would like to go trending. Stealing is not poetry. Stealing is not beautiful.
We are a community of people with a love more affable for poetry than for ourselves, and we should all respect all the pieces, because if we do then we are accepting and respecting each other.
So I ask you from the bottom of my heart, do not steal from a poet any longer if you have, or at all if you have not. Your pieces are your own raw emotions, not mine. My pieces are my own raw emotions, not yours.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 6:52 PM UTC
A girl named Karma came running thrue the forest
branches breaking under her boots
her hair glowing in the sunlight that escapes thrue the leaves of the oak trees
a golden gold in all the green
the grass is lime and the taste in her mouth sour as the fruit
on her head is placed a crown of flowers
they smell as spring but look like summer
red like the apples that grows in her garden
the garden that surrounds her home on top of the universe
here she spends her life in the cold air surrounded by winter
here she isn't the princess, she is the queen
a beautiful queen with beautiful scars cut by knives
eyes ****** and bold like stones
she herself is an open wound
like the screaming song a fallen bird sings
when it has left the nest and has to follow its own voice
A girl named Karma
like the myths of the fairies
she is beautiful, skin pale like marmour
and eyes standing out in her sharpened features
her jaw tightened as she walks towards the storm and takes what is rightfully hers
to save her people from the enemies in an armor of bones
the bones of the monsters under her bed
They called her Charlotte
as in “free man”
a royal name from The North
that was their biggest mistake…
...they should have named her Karma
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 3:26 PM UTC
All praise to AHAYAH BAHASHAM YASHIYAH
the most high GOD , No they can't be no higher
My siblings are asleep , They're all lost sheep
It's time to wake up , the children of Jacob
QAM YASHARALAH
get back up on your feet
Open up your eyes to all these lies and deceit
The end times are near , but there's nothing to fear
This old world will start to crumble up , and disappear
A new heaven and earth, as it is written
It's already prepared but of now it is hidden
If you follow the prophecy , it just beats down theology
So just continue to endure , soon pain will be no more
As it is written in REVELATIONS 21 and 4
Locked up under key ,Satan will be bound
No longer able to send off his hounds
When a thousand years are up , the devil will be set free
And chaos will start to abrupt
For a short season , but what's the reason?
AHAYAH don't play that
Rain fire from the heavens
He's just going to take back , what's rightfully his
(Payback that is!)
His days of ruling are over, the devil can't stay
Now it's his time to pay , just cut the wire
He's thrown down to the lake of fire
Wickedness will leave , it shall depart
No longer left to cleave on to our hearts
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 2:46 PM UTC
They will not take my gun.
Get me their guns.
I have a right to my property.
They have a duty to obey us.
It is my responsibility to stand for what I believe in.
It is our responsibility to make them submit.
I hate them.
They will love us.
I say, break the law!
Do they dare go against us?
I petition; I riot; I will not go down without a fight!
We beat; We arrest; We will not lose this fight!
Alas, I am the only one left.
One insubordinate citizen remains.
I fire my gun for my freedom.
I fire my gun for our respect.
My only defense clatters to the ground.
I knock the gun out of his traitorous grip.
I fear what they will do to my family and me.
It is much safer to be feared than loved.
I take one last act to retrieve what is rightfully mine.
I take one last act to retrieve what is lawfully ours.
Then we both reach for the gun.
Then we both reach for the gun.
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 4:30 AM UTC
My boyfriend does not say he loves me.
“I love you” is reserved for family members only,
and even then, sometimes, it’s a boldfaced lie.
My father “loved” my mother,
he cheated on her, drank away her money
and,
he abandoned me.
Another victim of his so called love.
I don’t even know what “love” means.
Somehow there is a supposed difference
between
Love
and
in love.
I don’t see it.
I love you, should mean
I love you.
Period.
But it doesn’t, does it?
We can’t even rightfully define the word love,
so how can it mean something?
No, my boyfriend doesn’t say
I love you
instead he swears he adores me.
Adores.
Me.
Now that word has meaning,
it isn’t common.
It’s unique to us.
It means he respects me,
he likes my quirky smile.
The way I walk, talk, and sing.
He likes the way I fight
the way I dance
the way I like to read in the dark.
My boyfriend also doesn’t call me
honey, sweetie pie, cupcake or worst of all,
love muffin.
I am not a pie, cupcake, muffin or honey…
although I do like all of those things….
a lot.
He calls me by my name,
and there’s something special about that too.
My name, the thing that is constant.
All of my accomplishments are wrapped up in that one word.
I own it.
Tying my shoes for the first time,
riding a bike,
driving,
graduating,
acing that test I studied all night for.
It’s all there
in my name.
Honey, sweetie pie, cupcake and worst of all love muffin
don’t hold any meaning.
It’s what a guy calls a cute girl.
great.
That’s so original.
My name carries all of my accomplishments,
and my failures.
The first time I fell off my bike,
and my best friend had to walk me home.
The first time I got into a car accident,
and the airbag bruised my face.
The time, my ex boyfriend said he loved me,
only to cheat on me and have his mother call.
“Hey sweetie, I’m sorry I just don’t think you guys are in love
and as you know he’s already moving on.”
I guess even though I “loved” him,
I lost him.
So no,
my boyfriend does not say he “loves” me.
And the next time a boy-
because he will be a boy
calls after you
“Hey sweetie pie”
“Hey Honey”
“Hey cupcake”
or worst of all
“Hey love muffin”
Tell him you don’t have time to talk,
you’re looking for the man,
who will adore you,
and learn your name
in all its glory.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
the brevity of a singular breath,
one that is full of peace,
such a rare glimpse but
if you look at his face, at the right time,
you might just see him smile.
then, much like an old spruce cello,
descending in suspense,
that smile -evaporates-, and the
quick "bliss" is no more.
oh how old and wise is this cello i play,
if only it was genuinely surprised by the
intensity of such
-hair raising horror-
it faces in its composure, daily.
"but it simply ain't",
as Bukowski would drunkenly say,
and his quivering cigarette would rightfully echo
through the halls of this unholy Cathedral.
"put me the **** down already, Charles", it echoes.
"no,
i refuse
to let go of my
identity...
...why would i let go of all
-i feel-
is left?"
he (i) is either a man,
or on the road to understanding
what this even means really...
...maybe he's halfway there...
regardless, he now understands,
he must accept
"reasons" to smile won't come often,
and one is subject to the tug of war of life,
of society,
of women,
of his children,
of his forgetful mother,
of his vices,
his hair raising horrors,
the torment,
of his absent father.
to continue is to face those suspenseful
-crescendos-
of life, with
"a ********* smile on your face",
as Bukowski would say,
no matter
-what-
he's been through, or
-how-
-deeply-
he
-feels-
...
-melancholicreator
Feb 21, 2024
Feb 21, 2024 at 6:24 PM UTC
Justice is just is
never changing always broken
the powerful get rewarded the weak get mistreated
morality gets wounded and then healed by fake promises
we gave justice eyes
because it seems to only serve those with lighter pigmentation
hidden in webs of lies, truth is not to be mentioned
justice is just is because no one wants to rightfully serve it
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 11:26 AM UTC
Why did i let him in?10 months have passed but I've still haven't forgot,Counselor tells me to forgive,trick question ,Do I forgive me for not fighting as hard as I could,not screaming loud enough, allowing him in my house,or trusting him.Flashbacks include scrubbing my skin till it was irritated trying to remove his scent,only one question haunts me daily,why did I let him in?So called friend that was there when I needed him never crossed my mind he would commit such a sin.Yes he did the crime but I did the time ,Time spent crying and punishing myself for what happened is it true you can control others actions? why couldn't I stop him from tearing off my underwear?Could I stop him from stealing what was rightfully mines?On a mission to get it back, It shouldn't have Left me anyways,but I'm scared to knock on his door scared once he sees my tears he'll realize the score,why did I let him in when he knocked on my door?
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
When the fat vegan says she’s a vegan no one believes her
People offer her chocolate to see if she’ll crack
Fat and vegan aren’t words that coincide
It’s like a pancake covered in hot sauce
Unnatural
When the fat vegan walks into the grocery store to buy some produce people think good she needs it
But fat vegan doesn’t feel fat
She likes her shirt tucked in
Sleeves short
Shorts on
The fat vegan loves apple slices and kale salad long showers and a purple lipstick.
Fat vegan eats what she likes
She feels dainty and light
Finally small
Rightfully at home in a sweatshirt
Fat vegan floats through the world as the woman she longs to resemble
But on the inside
Reality creeps back in front of her only in a side glance in a window,
A judgment from a stranger.
Fat vegan has been taught to fit in not stretch out taking up more space is selfish being loud is obnoxious living a magnificent life is too loud
But fat vegan dreams of endless love and long walks
She finally learns what love means
Being happy on the inside defiant of the world
She knows how strong she is so she continues to float through the world
A
fat
Happy
vegan
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 12:08 PM UTC
I have often turned within my grave to ponder of the reason why
Upon the date of my birth, you took me to your secret hide
Underneath an aspen tree within the deadest of nights
You took to me like a moth to a ball of flickering light
With the devils own smile plastered upon your face and the slightest of hand
You produced a sanguineous jar of hearts and an ominous jar of black sand
You grasped my hands in your work enured and fairly calloused paws
Looked me in the eyes, and told me to forever leave my pale hands raw
"Never soil your untouched hands, your hands and eyes you shall avert'
"Never bruise, nor ever hurt, nor shall they be ever touched by dirt,
"Never touch a rose, nor touch a bee, as danger is an all you see,
"Close your eyes my little darling, and all of life shall be but a dream."
With the trust of a mothers child, I kept my eyes tightly squeezed
Wished upon the star within the midnight sky, wavering in the breeze
Held my hands up to my chest, hoping the fluttering and staggered slips
Not to be seen by your face within the light of moon as from the sun it dines and sips
Of a heart that had only once been given to me and should have forever stayed mine
But the greed inside all mens' hearts want, and reaches out to grasp a young new 'hind'
With another slight of those calloused hands, you took my life for your own pleasure
And stole what was rightfully derived as mine; a beating heart, you took your leisure
A working mind, once a clock, now fully had come to a skidding stop
You took my bones and my teeth and used them as a fertilizing crop
The very worst thing that you did, you took my pride when you took my skin
Shaved off clean with a diamond edged razor and worn as if you were mockeries twin
Burried underneath that beautiful aspen tree, I've been given the time to remold
But my life had been stolen, the soul forced out before the bells had tolled
In the time it had taken for my pieces to remold, I had realised something then and there;
There were always things that were meant to go untold, but the truth is ringing upon the open air
You wanted more than what was offered and had bitten off all you could chew
But if I'd known back then what I know now, I'd know real good men only come in few
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 10:50 PM UTC