"samaritans" poems
I am not required to love you.
Let's get that straight.
Neither man nor woman
Is obligated to profess
And show their undying love for you,
Just as the sun doesn't revolve around the world,
The world doesn't revolve around you.
A series of acts showing your "kindness"
Is not a contract for a relationship.
The very fact that you have to shout
How you are a "nice guy"
Shows how you aren't;
Kindness doesn't need reassurance.
To be frank,
This whole delusion
Is getting a bit out of hand
(see: the ****** Killer",
a guy so sexually frustated
He killed people
for not giving him the right to get laid).
Maybe, hear me out here guys,
it's not because girls only look for "bad guys".
Maybe we look for soulmates,
Not Good Samaritans with hidden agendas.
This may come off as a shock for some of you,
But all-around goodness isn't equal
to treating girls nicely
Only because you might have a chance.
So if your mating dance
Consists of acting like you're an angel And simultaneously complaining
About the blindness
And insolence of women,
It's high time you should stop.
Put down the fedora while you're at it.
It's become a symbol for gentlemen for you,
But now it's a warning sign for us: "Beware the self-entitling guy!"
Honestly, we cringe every single time.
And darling,
Nice guys always finish last
because they whine
Instead of running.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
it seems we live in times
when helping hands extend only reluctantly
to those in dire need who had to leave
the ruins of their devastated homes
not waiting for more bombs to fall
to those who had to save their lives
from the barbaric rule of self-styled prophets
and those whose simple love of education
was met with inane terror and oppression
why is it that so many people
are afraid of them and think
these desperate refugees are perpetrators
not the victims
why is it that the nations most responsible
for chaos and destruction in these countries
far from their own safe shores
are the least willing to accommodate
those they have driven from their homes
good Samaritans have become scarce
only a few today share their possessions
with those who are in greater need
our humanity has been outsourced
to NGOs and sundry other institutions
to whom we donate so they feed
the hungry poor and the displaced
it makes one wonder whether shameless greed
has indeed
and without any saving grace
become the only goal of our race
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 6:13 PM UTC
I'm all out of fairydust my magic wand is broke
I'm not the samaritans I have problems all my own
99% of the time I'm there for everyone
But 1% you need to know I have to be alone
I don't have all the answers I listen very well
Tough love can be hard but you need that as well
All are worlds are different some seem dark and black
I'm often there to hold your hand and try to guide you back
But for a while you are on your own I'm taking some me time
Temporarily unavailable sort your own life out
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 7:39 AM UTC
Do not shy away
From expressing your feelings
For they are true callings
From the heart waiting for audience
Samaritans are there
In the realm of your positive vibes
Your plea shall reach
Waiting to congregate at the place
Where all souls shall meet
Exchanging each other’s feelings
Emphatic chants of happiness
Shall reverberate everywhere
Outside your realm
True callings will impact the hearts
Which have forgotten to empathize
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC
Crashing into life, frame shattered.
You’ve put an end to my flight down the eternal mile.
Red scattered about, broken shards of life by the roadside.
You have shut me down bruised and battered.
Can someone save this body of mine?
Can someone put this mind at peace?
Samaritans come to rescue and ease the pain
of a body and soul that can run no longer.
Oh blessed hands from above,
have you spared the heart that beats within?
Have you cupped me in your palm?
Can I believe that you stand by to protect me once more?
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 12:26 PM UTC
Many people remind us of the Lord.
They venture into places we dare not go.
It might be the ghetto or the wealthy side of town.
Where pretense is in the people you know?
They have the heart of the Good Samaritans.
Where assisting those in need?
Is there only agenda.
They mean no harm.
And many never seem alarm.
But more comfortable.
It's been stated many of us live in a comfort zone.
Surrounded by security from the real sociaty.
Where fear controls your every move?
These brave souls acts on reaction.
Always seeking a satifaction to the crisis.
They have the heart of a Good Samaritan.
Emergency Technicians.
They have the heart of a Good Samaritan.
Fire personnel.
They have the heart of a Good Samaritan.
Law enforcement.
They have the heart of a Good Samaritan.
Counselors, charity workers.
They have the heart of a Good Samaritan.
All honorable soldiers.
They have the heart of a Good Samaritan.
And brave parents.
They have the heart of a Good Samaritan.
Especially when we see them stand up to those trying to be mean.
When others would avoid getting involved.
We must remember there are those that honorable in the eyes of God.
When people with titles refuses to fight.
They need to remember they walking in darkness instead of the light.
Comfortable in doing wrong.
Instead of doing right.
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 8:17 AM UTC
Everyone loves the rains.
Romantic, walk in the wet streets
Getting feet wet, trying to make paper boats sail...the feelings run deep.
But Chennai my favourite city
Came under the deluge of uninterrupted rains.
The city streets became rivers
The homes and everything drowned underwater, people suffered through
A loss of everything that was home to them.
No power, dwindling food supply, the list became endless.
The rains refused to slow down,
It brought about a destruction with it unimaginable in a city where people lived on a day to day basis.
In the midst of this misery and destruction, kind souls helped the less trodden. The volunteers and good Samaritans brought a ray of hope to the devastated population.
The city is limping back to normalcy.
Hope the rains go away so that people can rebuild their life.
Rain rain go away
Come again when we call you.
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 3:45 AM UTC
My mother, is my reference to everything that is beautiful in every single way. She has a smile that powers butterfly wings and heartbeats.
My mother, carried a sunset belly for nine months pregnant with stars, because she understands that stars are just far away sons. And God has used her as a garden to grow supernovas.
My mother, has helium balloon pair of arms that always tend to lift me up when I fall. With leather belt extensions to hit some sense into me when I’m wrong
My mother, taught me that the journey is great, but the destination is legendary. That God comes first and everything else next, so I put my best foot forward and look towards heavens gates.
Real life superwoman, my mother has a cape made of hope and silver, constantly flying into dark clouds so we have silver linings to hold on to.
My mother, made sure that in a black and white world that is more tiger than zebra, we saw things through shades of grey. That nobody is just bad or just good, and once in a while devils can be good samaritans.
So give everyone a chance, with pennies for their thoughts and just maybe they’ll have two to rub together.
So I promise you this mother. That I would love God and love you.
And if I’m lucky enough to find a woman half as amazing, God willing, I will call her wife.
I promise to be the man that you raised me to be, with titanium spine, a gold heart and glass eyes to see past what this world has to offer.
I promise to stop making eggshell promises that break too easily.
My mother, is a vast blue ocean, with a shoreline full of the whole world, watching her son rise.
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC
Cigarettes & candy are great tools for propaganda.
But ***
cancer and rotten teeth ****
Good Samaritans my ***
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
I've misplaced my identity
It slipped from my sticky *** covered hands
I froth and rage when asked for my name
spit blame upon others because I've lost myself
tragedy is nestled in the cracks of my family life
burrowed in school classrooms and house parties
I never noticed my life was submerged in it
consumed by that cruel water of humiliation
I am a beggar depending on my next stray dollar of affection
clinging hopelessly to its contents for survival
they coax me with promises of change and adoration
yet these charitable samaritans always seem to wander off
like I'm a stray dog starved and ignored
so do not dare ask me how I've been lately
I itch to use my fists to show you
all that remains in my empty void
Is this dull aching for another sip
a violent seduction of my morality
amber elixir offensively dancing in my glass
mouth watering at the smell of that pungent liquor
my friends remain rolled in cigarettes and sipped from bottles
this masochistic cycle fuelled by self damnation
I have no respect for this dependable broken body I occupy
for I am no longer a person but a problem
hostage to the memory of the smiles of my perpetrators
but these clammy deformed hands
hurt my loved ones in a fit of paranoia and fear of betrayal
so hurt be a little harder baby
a sadistic existence is what I deserve
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 10:30 AM UTC
walking through the park
people watching
eyeing the entertainment
a clown twisting balloons
into obscure shapes
and telling people
'it's a dog'
or
'it's a monkey'
and those same people
grinning enthusiastically and exclaiming
'it is, it is!!!'
while walking away
pulling junior by his arm
scolding
'hurry up'
the balloon lasts 5 minutes
usually less
before junior
trying to choke the 'doggie'
busts the balloons...
...and then we're left with
a screaming
crying
toddler
great
i turn my attention to the pond
ducks, geese, a swan or two (i think)
moving gracefully
on the water
until one duck
smaller than the rest
starts quacking anxiously
obviously distressed
and i turn to see it caught up in a tangle of discarded
fishing twine
his terror obviously alarming the others
and then there's a spectacle
of quaking, splashing birds and people
while a few good hearted samaritans rush to
save the duck
eventually a beat cop arrives
shooing people away
while saving the day using his handy
sport knife to cut away the twine and set the bird free
taking a small bow to the crowd of people cheering
moving along
i come to a street vendor
selling ice cones, pop, cotton candy and popcorn
so i stop for a small ice cone
blue
treating myself
walking along
enjoying the scene
i notice a few kids laughing and pointing
i shrug it off until a kindhearted old lady
offers
'your face is blue, dear'
taking out my compact mirror
i do see that my face is indeed blue
the ice cone
which i unceremoniously dump into the next waste bin
trying in vane to scrub the blue off of my face
with a slowly shredding napkin
i take the path to the nearest exit
out of the park
so much for a relaxing stroll in the park
on a beautiful spring day.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 3:38 PM UTC
Atheists
Atheists who believe in evolution
Lying
For example, evolution
Stealing
Satan worship
Judas
For example, Darwin
My neighbor Will
Who manipulated me into bad Pokemon trades
Witchcraft, for example, Atheism
Women’s sexualized Halloween costumes
Sexualized women, for example bikinis
Prostitution
Cussing, which is prostitution of the spirit
*** with someone other than your spouse
*** before marriage
Pictures of ***
***
The word ****
The Ancient Greeks, who rejected Jesus
The Ancient Romans, who rejected Jesus
The Ancient Jews who rejected Jesus
(The **** Pharisees who rejected Jesus via ******
The Ancient Samaritans, who rejected Jesus
Except one; that guy’s all good
The Ancient Babylonians, who would’ve rejected Jesus
Marrying a non-Christian
Helping your Atheist spouse to cuss or ******
Divorce
Not forgiving someone
Gollum, for several reasons
Not praying
Praying to Mary
Praying to Allah
Praying to Baal
Child sacrifice
Saying “Just water please” but then getting pop
Bill Clinton, who did all that
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 4:26 PM UTC
It is art that oils the moving parts of me
the free flowing nectar in the seed of me,
art in ******* tips and the half full skips,
the 'tramps' that ship the coal around the coast.
I play host to the wonder of words that make up the rhyme,
more 'fog on the Tyne'
the lowlands and highlands within these Islands and bridges to cross,
It is art in the heart and what we see with the eyes,love it,despise it,ignore or get wise to it,
everywhere I look, I see that someone took time,moulded , transformed it and changed forever this world a bit
and every bit helps.
My fingers are lazers ,blazing out art,starting to burn in every sentence that turns and turning to light,
gutters that utter to me prophecies and in the pharisees I see only samaritans who give
salute to the pimps and the prostitutes,the Kings and the courtiers,those who buy and who sell,who are
milled in the gin of it,the thin and the quick of it,tied to the wheel in the cockpit and spitting out what could be me for the hell of it.
I see art in the faces that stare blankly,to flicker at screens in store windows,art in the glow of the cigarette end,in the bending of imagination, where salvation is palmed off to an ungrateful nation as corn from the candyclouds,art in the female,the he man, the mail man,the banter of cantors,the whispers of sisters the sadness,the badness,the joy and the gladness is there,
out looking to share,insiders,
outsiders,lone wolfstate riders and in pairs or in threes all looking to please,
street paintings,feint bread lines on fences,dull
brush strokes on brickstock
unlock your mind
find your
art.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 8:22 AM UTC
The road to
has been long.
Worn each day
charmed upon wrist,
shiny trinkets of
silver,
jingling
forget-me-not.
The sound of smiles
were sometimes
counted upon like days
taken for granted
we should always be
lips turned up
in the darker corners.
The way sunlight strobes
through glinting trees
at 70 miles an hour
on our way home
to somewhere,
we have to be
for fresh coffee.
Never dreamed
we would ever be,
roadside
our tongues tied
words strung like
feathered frowns
of long dead Indians
battered by the way side.
Morrison-esk tears on blue
voice of a stranger's hat-
Imagine that
a cursed heart
that slays the dawn
waves angered on
stands still waiting
roadside Samaritans
will live without eyes,
laughter of friends,
stumbling worlds
will be less everything
colorful,
when you are gone.
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC
Insidious doors that close linoleum floors keep the secrets of the man hidden from the poor.
It's a shame the way he makes me work for more.
Fear is the weapon of our enemies and allies.
Crying wolves, crying wolf while slaying dear.
Maybe we are better off this way.
On blue moons, our eyes turn red and we say we are done and won't take it again.
Force fed, force shaved, forced to listen and forced to behave.
It's a shame the way he makes me feel depraved.
I shout, scream, stand up and get mad.
Tear apart the room without saying a word.
***** you, you aren't my Dad.
Have my cake and eat it too?
**** me off under the table while the social network takes a stab. I don't care. F%&K; the media's news.
I see the headlines spelled a million different ways, but you are still the one that has to sleep at night, knowing you nurtured a nation that reaped and *****
The innocent, the young, the scared, the hopeful, the dreamers, the soldiers, the vagabonds, the artists, the entertainers, the founders, the church-goers, the fishermen, the students, the Samaritans, the stay at home mothers, the policemen, the American man. His soul and the spirit they tried to preserve.
Lied to and tapped, again and again.
It's a shame the way he makes me give and take.
Inside us, inside the US.
Without asking.
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 6:22 PM UTC
I did not even know the man
I only glimpsed his face
But since 5:30 this afternoon
He is all that has consumed my thoughts
I saw his last moments
I watched them play out before me
As his car swerved into the next lane and
Off the road
As the trees enveloped him and hid him from view
The rest was a blur
My father and two workmen
Good Samaritans who gave no second thought
To their own safety
As they hurried across the road to save the life of the stranger
Who was breathing his final breaths
I wondered what he was thinking
What he was feeling
In those final moments
Who were the faces that swirled through his brain
As his final tears streamed down his bruised and ****** face
Did he know people cared
Enough to save a man
They did not even know?
Or did he feel alone,
Did he feel no one would weep in his absence?
Volunteers tossed branches aside
As thorns cut into their thighs and sweat trickled down their faces
They threw the driver's side door open and I watched their faces grow solemn
His last breaths were ones of agony
And then he felt nothing
Time of death, 5:30 PM
I hope he knew that someone cared
I hope he knew he wasn't alone
And though I do not know him
Though I barely glimpsed his face
I hope he knows that I will never forget him
For he will be the reason
I begin to truly live
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 12:19 AM UTC
Our Father,
who art in heaven
Mother Earth,
who art in Hell.
Burnt to ash,
ready Armageddon
Watch the sky
where angels fell
Zipper-mouths pulled tight
as the Cross passes the way
Carnal masks shimmer light
As sludge engulfs the day.
Vicious, vicarious crows of blackened ember
Cawing and moaning; devilishly romantic
The touch of fingertips on lips I remember
Left her womanhood wet and frantic.
Unchained desires that surely are satanic.
Those hours in confessional amongst lying sycophants
Console weeping eyes and tarnished souls
Elected “Saints” stand tall with hypocritical blather
Condemning children with eyes like burning coals
“But virgins taste sweeter,” as the angels say
With sins like spices which season raw meat
But innocence-takers hide beneath crimson beds
Sitting atop thrones as stewards to God’s seat
Will those that fall, eventually rise?
All creatures tempted by tangible discord
Would we disobey the Grand one’s design,
If we follow the path that derives from the Lord?
Samaritans run extinct in the iron fire roads
And jukebox ****** priests play The Doors
Demon-eye coffee, dark like oily foes
I sip and read about the murders in the Moors
Devil executions fuel the jungles outside
Angels Abandoning service to kids like me
Fixers and hitters of the skid south side
Shouts from the shadows, “Hey, Nothing to see!”
Violent red dresses accompanying long limb girls
Spreading legs for daddy and **** daddy do’s
Magic hallucinogens showing circles and swirls
In faces under hoods and sky-crying moods
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 10:13 PM UTC
This past year was tough
For all of us
The foreign virus
Tried to defeat our trust
We were fighting an unknown fiend
It separated us,tried to make us weak
Destroyed our economies,thwarted our means
Of livelihood.We couldn't let it win
Warriors came in coats of white
Treating without care for there own lives
Just so humanity could survive.
Some were martyred.We cannot forget the sacrifice.
Trucks ensured we had food to eat
And all other amenities
But what of those who were away from home
Those poor,migrants and forlorn
Angel descended in human disguise
Good samaritans helped them reach their home
Helped them stay alive.
We lost some.
Some lost their jobs.
Virus tried to destroy human will.
It didn't know we were made of steel.
We persevered,we fought,we strived
Though we made mistakes, made some slights
We wore masks
We wore them with pride
In this wretched quarantine.
We were one in this fight
This pandemic
Stopped the schools
But through online classes
And teacher's will
We somehow made it through
A word of gratitude to sanitation workers
The unsung heroes of this lockdown
Working in these tough conditions
You all made us proud
And somehow by following the rules
With sheer discipline
We made it through,we made it through
This one hell of a pandemic
And now we are slowly limping back to life
The past year tested us all
We lost some
Lost some fights
I hope this year we'll win the war
It will take some time
To restart normal life
But if we persevere,fight enough
I know that this year will be bright
Dark clouds will give way to sunlight.
Feb 19, 2021
Feb 19, 2021 at 7:39 AM UTC
I’m calling a phone *** line
and telling them that I don’t think
my first girlfriend ever loved me.
They ask me what I’m wearing,
trying to divert the conversation,
and I ask if emotional baggage counts.
I push a hand between my dry thighs
and ask them if they like their job.
I ask what their favourite flavour
of ice cream is, and if they’ve ever
eaten it in the sunshine and felt okay.
I ask if they have someone back at home
that they’re doing this for,
or if they just like monetising a soft voice.
You have a very nice voice, I say,
and they laugh, awkwardly. Kindly,
they ask if I meant to call the Samaritans instead.
I say *no, they blocked my number,
and they expect me to be killing myself every time.*
Are you killing yourself now?
Slowly. Do you have a boyfriend?
No, baby, I’m all yours.
Don’t lie.
I have a baby on the way. I’m just trying
to make ends meet.
*I get it. Me too. By the way,
do you even like ice cream?*
Not really.
*Me neither. I don’t know why I brought that up
in the first place. Are you lonely?*
Right now?
Yeah. Now.
A little bit.
*I am killing myself, by the way. I just wanted
to talk to someone before I go.*
That’s okay. Your call will be charged anyway.
Jul 17, 2021
Jul 17, 2021 at 8:54 PM UTC
We know them.
We love them.
They your enemy.
Thy your friend.
They your counselor.
They your pal.
They share in your life.
When you was young,
And they still there.
When you full grown.
They taught you right.
The opposite of wrong.
They taught ways to get along.
Who are these good Samaritans you ask?
They our parents as you might have guessed.
Not always right.
Not always wrong.
And it by them that our values are based upon.
Besides they aren't all that bad.
Probably, the best friends you will ever have.
Even, when we say they get on our nerves.
Especially, when they claim we have no nerve to get on.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 5:06 PM UTC
Life is amazing, Life is marvelous
There are ups and downs in every corner
A surprise waiting in every door
A new adventure, a new experience
Dreams are made and broken on this unpredictable journey
Here's to life and its surprises!
Here's to the parents who love us so!
To our mothers who love us so much and brought us into this world
If you didn't endure the pain, if you didn't give us your care and attention we wouldn't be the people we are now.
To the fathers who told us to explore the world, try new things, and don't regret.
"The world is your oyster! Go out and adventure my child." he said
They loved us unconditionally and we'll never be able to pay them back for as long as I live
To the people who grew up without parents, fret not. You are stronger than most of us because you were raised up by God Himself, and no one could ever ask for a better Teacher.
Here's to our friends and our so called friends!
To the real friends that greet us with their warm smiles and support us in every endeavor
To the fake friends in my life who are like two sided coins with one side willing to shake our hands while the other side ready to find an oppurtunity to stab us with the dagger named "Destruction".
Thank you fake friends for teaching us not to trust everyone we meet because we wouldn't have made better decisions with you around
Hugs and kisses you two faced pigs!
Here's to the politicians that run this country
To the underdog nobles who have a burning desire to see this nation become great again!
Thank you for enduring all the criticism and salt that comes from us! We hope to see you in a higher position putting your ideals into action.
To the fat kings who are no better than the sloth.
Thanks for helping the country with your corruption and pyramid system. Your fake promises and your deceiving smiles just yell,"Work my slaves! Work! I said work!" When I think of these guys I think,"Boy, our taxes sure are in good hands. Who voted for these guys anyway?"
Here's to the saints and good Samaritans that have helped me
To the strangers that taught me that no one is entitled to anything
That we live in a shared world and there's no room for me, myself, and I
To the people close to me that support me and help me in my journey in life
There's a piece of you in every bit of me because of your heart to help others God bless you!
Here's to God above
For loving me before I entered this world,
For giving me the chance to be alive in this world,
For guiding me all my ways,
And for paying a debt that no one could ever pay,
Here's to life!
Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 4:30 AM UTC
He told me that the world was good.
Maybe was carved from ball of wood.
Sadly 'twas invaded by wood worms.
Who spent hours daily nibbling.
However: it isn't really wooden.
Despite the pain 'tis really good, good as gold.
Our world protected, loved so dearly.
Close to ending,
Only nearly.
Protected by the word of various lords,
And mythical souls.
Hercules in full support,
The weight of the world on his shoulders.
Heracles despatching lions, well only one to my knowledge.
Gods and prophets will do their best.
Adam and Eve conceived their sons and Noah's floods and Lot's salt pillar.
Angels soothe minds of the troubled.
While gorgons, witnessed turn to stone, their snakes are hungry their dying for rats.
Samaritans will save the world, not just lonesome travellers.
And Jesus, he turned water into wine, not mine, loaves and fishes to feed them all.
Let us pray.
(C) LIVVI
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 1:49 PM UTC