"snubbed" poems
Moths are swatted
butterflies kissed
Pollution in fog
but beauty in mist
Shades of skin
the lighter adored
Loveliest lauded
the average ignored
Wilting flowers
tossed and snubbed
Only the beautiful
are cherished and
loved
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 1:01 AM UTC
From Potent Treasures despite Five Months past
The Sixth Great Angel suddenly appeared
Reminding my Lost Voice which Virtues last
And preached the Sermon of True Self revealed
How Wonderful must your Header advise
Being the Younger of your Sister's sprite
From there Unknotted Loyalty devise
Though snubbed by Pink Dandelions in spite
Now I can see why he chose over you
His Charming Sense knew your Heart was that Pure
And please keep on; Keep that Silver Disc blue
Coat them with your Wings from being demure.
Yes I Agree. Of your True Coating's stand
Thank you so much for reminding me at hand.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
Dusk!
With a creepy, tingling sensation you hear the fluttering of leathery wings!
Bats!
Glowing red eyes and glistening fangs,
These unspeakable giant bugs drop into view.*
Fibrous wings furred like a moth,
Big ears are just a membranous extension of antennae.
Flying in search of a flower’s pollen laden froth,
Silent except for the hum and squeak of echolocation.
Trap bats in attics, butterflies in nets.
No rabies feared, no bedbug bites to itch.
Clawed feet ****** and grab like praying mantis pincers;
Bloated stomach slopes like a pudgy beetle.
Jaws manipulate like an ant, excise like scissors;
Soft hair rustles like a wooly caterpillar.
They live in darkness, centipedes do too,
Come out at night like cockroaches tend to.
Skittering through the night like daddy long-legs,
Noses snubbed like bumble bee faces.
Wind turbines endanger bats,
Like fans endanger lightning bugs.
Only one percent of bats are vampiric,
Like only a small percentage of spiders are poisonous.
Dawn!
With a creepy, tingling sensation you hear the fluttering of leathery wings!
Bats!
Bats are bugs, aren’t they?
May 4, 2010
May 4, 2010 at 5:04 PM UTC
I had to play.
I had to play.
my stolen heart turned hard to *****
T’was me snubbed.
T’was me who snubbed.
And glittery diamonds to dirt, were clubbed.
But I had to play.
I had to play.
Cause he held all cards anyway.
I had tried to run.
I tried to run.
We were not there for love, but “fun”
And I HAD to play.
I YEARNED to play..
I was his
lonely.
desperate.
prey.
Now he's moved on..
He moves on.
leaves his
pathetic.
little.
pawns.
I'd had to play
I needed to play.
I didn’t want to get away..
He'd gotten bored
He gets bored.
He wiped away our checkered board.
Now he's not here.
He was never HERE...
And I'd do anything to feel him near.
Come play.
Come play.
Mar 28, 2022
Mar 28, 2022 at 5:24 PM UTC
Brackets
Your mum picked you up in daddy’s BMW,
we had to wait an hour while they scrubbed the brains of another son off the roof of the 125
(Why they built a multi storey car park on top of the bus station is a mystery to me.)
You carefully colour coordinated your files and scrutinized your revision schedules,
we watched nicked CCTV footage of two blokes smoking crack and burning down the bowling pavilion next door
(the old boys never did raise enough to repair it.)
You snubbed each other because of different tastes in jumpers,
we watched acid casualties talk politics with football hooligans
(a hastily rolled joint bridged the obvious gap.)
You lounged in the common room in your study periods,
our lesson got cancelled because John had been smashed in the face with a fire extinguisher
(and our tutor used to be a lifeguard.)
You worried about fashion and discussed the injustice of last night’s X Factor result,
we watched Neil’s head crash into his keyboard after he’d scoffed all his methadone in one go
(again.)
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
Three tootsies, show off
a funky red motorbike,
a MCP cop try to stop,
**gets snubbed, cackle like a ****
Apr 14, 2012
Apr 14, 2012 at 11:28 PM UTC
This man has lost all twenty-seven emotions
Like a robot -
Any whiff of emotion even feels too much
Every word this man says is snubbed
Every sleep - his heart beats slower
From the pain this man suffered
The drugs this man used to be
So afraid of -
Scares him no more
For it had almost wounded him
Right by his own bed
Which he saw as a liberation
This man is tired
He's ended up becoming
What he used to fight against
It has consumed his soul
To the point of no recovery
Which is no longer necessary
This man has zero life
He lives for no one
To be precise -
To pay the price -
This man shall die tonight
At this point, death would hurt less
May 29, 2022
May 29, 2022 at 5:20 AM UTC
Lion, dweller of the desert
with gleaming fur and crushing paws
wandered, searching, thirsty, wanting
when only yards away was fresh-rain ponds
just barely out of sight
and the lion was almost satisfied
For now, it was patient
But then, from its dark, dry hole
a snake, red, long, its body curled in waves
it came and teased the lion
selfish, ignorant, it swam through sand
right in front of that thirsty lion
Not counting its consequences
The lion's fur rose as it watched the snake go
It's heart, mighty, proud, longed to ****** the serpent
or chase, at least chase
But its clever mind scorned-
The lion needed water, its thirst growing great
The fresh-rain ponds were just over the sand hill
The heart fought the mind
The mind finally gave
Knowing the worst with great disregard
It leaped through the gold dust and pounced on the snake
But there-
its heart was great
but its mind was resentful with spite
thirsting to wound that heart's lazy pride
so it let that scarlet snake slipped
right through, free from the paws
to retreat in its hole
until morning
This lion's heart, it beat and swore
This lion's mind, it smirked and snubbed
And it sat in the sun of the desert, much greater than it
Just wrinkling to nothing
Bitter with loss for drink and food
No compromise to be reached,
The lion withered for nothing
To have its ashes mixed with the sand
and blown
away
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 11:52 AM UTC
Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One:
Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun.
Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six:
Sitting down to lessons - no more time for tricks.
Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven:
Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!
Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen:
Each young man that calls, I say "Now tell me which you MEAN!"
Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one:
But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?
Five showy girls - but Thirty is an age
When girls may be ENGAGING, but they somehow don't ENGAGE.
Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more:
So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!
Five PASSE girls - Their age? Well, never mind!
We jog along together, like the rest of human kind:
But the quondam "careless bachelor" begins to think he knows
The answer to that ancient problem "how the money goes"!
2.5k
I am yours, always yours
For as long as I am useful
As long as you will have me.
I am a ****** idol,
A divine ***** who
May not be the classiest but
Certainly gets the job done.
You were unsophisticated,
Uneducated,
Crude.
Rude.
My mood may change but
My feelings never did.
You left me in the gutter,
Kind,
Knowing it to be my
Place of birth;
Cold,
Knowing it to be the
Place for my death.
I am yours, always yours
Until a more fit replacement may come.
It is more, is more,
Is more rain-spickle,
Spack-tackle, shoe-shit love-drunk easy
To miss my train.
You alighted onto the next platform,
Passing me by on the way
To being busy, to pretending to have a delay.
Don't carry your head so high
When everything you told me was an utter lie.
Why
Would you pretend your life could be shared with me?
Your sweet-warm friendship could
Slip through my fingers,
Keeping the arthritis of
Loneliness away.
So I tried to help you
Carry your back,
And I carried you out of
Immaturity,
But now
I'm fag-snubbed into your snow,
Snowy skin which smothers me
In spring feelings gone cold.
Mar 18, 2010
Mar 18, 2010 at 9:28 PM UTC
Two weeks ago, on a day that I'm making up for this story,
I was in the city.
I don't prefer the city, because you can't see the stars.
They are being snubbed out by streetlights
and to me it makes everything seem uglier, without the stars.
Anyway, I was sitting on a ***** riverbank.
It wasn't actually dirt though, because people in cities
have forgotten
what dirt smells like
and tastes like
and feels like between their toes.
It was the city kind of *****
spent condoms and cartridge rounds
syringe needles and bags of brown
scraps of metal and wrappers of plastic
gooey globs of gum and broken glass bottles.
I won't lie, I had a glass bottle to call my own,
about half full of the Good Stuff
and I was feeling mighty fine about killing it alone.
When I looked skyward and off to the right,
I noticed a city bridge, what with its' running lights
and dangling cables and roaring traffic,
it was standing in stark contrast to the
quiet county bridges of my home.
At this point, and it may have been the *****
but I could've sworn I could see someone
on the bridge
clinging to a tether
swaying in the swift city breeze.
I had only just convinced myself
otherwise, that it would actually turn out to be
a bag of fast-food garbage hastily tossed out
by a careless city-dweller,
that the man let go
and
he
fell.
he flailed his arms and failed
to gain traction
and kicked his legs but
they abandoned him in midair
and
he
fell.
I was close enough, and listened
and I heard him go
splat
against
cold water.
I was jealous of his bravery.
I envied his resolve.
I admired him.
I lusted after his finality.
Oct 25, 2011
Oct 25, 2011 at 10:06 PM UTC
Rubber faces. Foreheads sweat, stream clown makeup when cheeks meet. Sweet blood: corn syrup, water, starch. Lick then smell. Vampires pick jolly rancher debris from teeth. Blue fangs. A skeleton in the closet undresses a nun. Open door open window sit three cats. Watch the sun set. Crows murdered around oak trees. Darkness. Lights, music, karaoke, Elvis sings Franki Valli. Richard Nixon gropes a slutty nurse. Left hand, right breast. Alcohol permeates air. Skin, sweat. Touch. Marilyn Monroe hoards candy corn souped with beer broth in her stomach. Passes out. Steve Irwin wears a sting ray through his chest, ***** tail through his shirt, surrounded in blood. First place in the costume contest. Alter egos. Fred Flintstone feels snubbed. So does a saran wrapped girl. Nipples hidden with black fabric circles. Black balloons. Orange ones. Red balloons. Popped. Silent girl in white stands in the corner. Caresses a small bottle of cyanide in her fingers. Thumb, middle, pointer, pointed at Marilyn. She knows she will not wake up. They’ll call it suicide. Elvis finishes his song in a falsetto,
Oh, what a night.
Oct 5, 2010
Oct 5, 2010 at 10:46 AM UTC
Greenland's not for sale
Greenland's melting
Green forests burning
Greenback flooding
Greed and fear ablaze
fed and preyed upon by AI
Chosen by the wicked
but snubbed, the King sulked
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 11:17 PM UTC
I kept my hands clean today
No unholy things for me today
I snubbed my neighbor twice
For twice the heathen greeted me
I gave him barbed advice
For each time he had cheated me
I kept my hands clean today
No unpleasant things for me today
I went nowhere where one could find
Sinning folk or those in need
I chastized a beggar who was blind
Accused a friend of pride and greed
I kept my hands clean today
No ungodly things for me today
I avoided adulterers and ******
And gluttons, thieves, and tools
I gave a penny to the poor
And two cents to a fool
I kept my hands clean today
So God, why didn't you bless me today?
Feb 11, 2010
Feb 11, 2010 at 7:51 PM UTC
Bleeding earth,
Of motioning limbs,
praying to the tethered sunset,
wooden seasons snubbed,
abandoned and slathered,
Between almost everywhere,
Unnamed and shrub covered,
Something found in the endless,
plain and comprehended,
Civility manifested,
cottoned on to,
scratched out with plastic implements,
roaring blood cascading,
mechanical timidity,
tongues are on a journey,
naked and dead.
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 1:46 PM UTC
I did everything you wanted
Because for me you are sacred
But I think you never really cared for me at all
Because you've done things that just made me fall
What should i do to make you mine?
Oh.. It's really true that love is blind
I was blinded by your love and It's not right
But this stupid heart says "It's right to fight"
Days passed and it's still the same
You ignored and snubbed me again
Every time you do that, I just want to sigh
But sad to say, it just makes me cry
May 8, 2011
May 8, 2011 at 2:45 AM UTC
Tables scattered--
Round illuminated islands.
A snubbed cigarette whispers its last words to the room.
Vanes spinning--
Records circulating air.
Hypnosis settles like a dusting-- coating the mind's past troubles.
Her voice--
Softly traveling in waves.
Weaving a blanket-- alms soothing a once cold vacuum.
I now know bliss.
Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 6:42 PM UTC
I snubbed a woman who said good morning, she in turn was offended and ignored a homeless veteran, who in turn became desperate and tried to rob a street vendor, who was injured and went to the hospital, while the homeless man ran away and became a fugitive. The injured vendor could not work, so his family was evicted and put into the street and thus became homeless, like the veteran, who was cornered by police and shot trying to escape, a tragedy for which no one cared. Now the vendors family has taken to stealing in order to survive, while the man recovers but cannot pay his medical bills and thus gets poor treatment and dies. Now what if the picture were painted differently and things were turned around. I helped an old woman who said good morning get across the street, she saw a homeless veteran and gave him ten dollars, the veteran bought a lottery ticket and a sandwich. He scratched it off and won 50000 dollars, the street vendor from whom he bought the ticket was given a cash bonus for selling the winning ticket. The vendor took the 2500 dollar and had his daughters teeth fixed so that now she laughs and smiles. The homeless veteran got his life together and gave some of his money to help out a homeless shelter where he used to stay. The shelter bought new beds and food to help more people. So is the domino effect, one small thing can turn into a greater thing, it depends on which way you decide to go.
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 10:52 AM UTC
I can't sleep at night,
So I'll go buy some melatonin.
I don't smile enough,
Another round of serotonin!
You've become so much more than a habit.
I am snubbed.
I am fiction.
I am the ********* Velveteen Rabbit.
Jan 12, 2010
Jan 12, 2010 at 10:41 PM UTC
Tiffany Trump has been viewed as the least known of Donald Trump’s children. The 23-year-old, who was raised separately from her siblings and made a late appearance on the presidential campaign trail, has been dubbed the “forgotten” Trump.
All the same, this has not made her exempt from the fury of her father’s detractors. This could be most clearly glimpsed during New York Fashion Week where there were reports the President’s second youngest child had been snubbed by fashion writers.
Former Wall Street Journal style columnist Christina Binkley shared a photo of Ms Trump sitting with two empty seats beside her, saying: "Nobody wants to sit next to Tiffany Trump at Philipp Plein, so they moved and the seats by her are empty”.
Fortunately for Ms Trump, who is the billionaire developer’s only daughter from his second marriage to Marla Maples, Whoopi Goldberg swooped in to save the day.
Despite the fact Goldberg has been an outspoken critic of Mr Trump, she suggested it was unfair for anger at his policies to be directed at Ms Trump given she was simply there to enjoy the catwalk.
"You know what Tiffany? I'm supposed to go to a couple more shows. ... I'm coming to sit with you," Goldberg said on The Viewwhich she hosts on ABC on Wednesday.
"Because nobody is talking politics at the [shows], you're looking at fashion! She doesn't want to talk about her dad. She's looking at the fashion!"
Goldberg, who previously said she would leave America if Mr Trump became President, argued the incident was "mean”, saying: "Girl, I will sit next to you because I've been there where people say, 'Ooh, we're not going to sit next to you. I'll find your a*se and sit next to you."
Fashion writer, Binkley, has now said Ms Trump was not actually snubbed at the show. She said the seats remained unoccupied for two minutes or less and the first daughter seemed unaware of what was going on.
Nevertheless, Nikki Ogunnaike, senior fashion editor at Elle, said the actual show started late due to frenzied last minute seating change, with editors at the show “fleeing” so they would not have to sit around Ms Trump. The tweets made headlines, with fashion designer, Plein, even weighing in to defend her by saying she is not a “politician” and merely a “teenager”.
Ms Trump, who thanked Goldberg for her show of support on Twitter, was raised separately from the other Trump siblings. She moved to California at the age of five and was brought up by her mother, Ms Maples, while her father and siblings were based in New York.
In a 2015 interview, Ms Trump said of her father: “I don’t know what it’s like to have a typical father figure. He’s not the dad who’s going to take me to the beach and go swimming, but he’s such a motivational person.”Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 11:35 PM UTC
O Flame,
curiously swaying in the wind.
How too I endeavor
To dance with my destructor.
Your careless swing,
In the blue mystery of the dark.
In this moment you are all I care for.
The illustrious glow more becoming than sixty sirens
Coated in sterling silver.
You
Harmful to touch but enthralling to watch
I adore you my dear
Simply as I know of your fate.
My empathy runs deep as we are both
Snubbed by the wind.
Sing to me my muse,
Let my end be Joyful
But only at hands of you.
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 6:07 PM UTC
Why did I ever love you
What is there to love?
Going to sleep, feeling snubbed?
What about the criticism about how I spend my money?
You think you can control me, you got another thing coming honey.
Manipulating me with lavish gifts, loving words and poems.
Thinking I'm stupid enough to not see our relationship is broken?
Throwing a fit when you don't get your way,
Ignoring my needs every single day.
Denying me of the love I crave,
You are slowly digging my early grave.
Shattering my self esteem seems to be your intent,
When I try to say anything, you always dissent.
My words don't matter, I am worthless,
Still your tirade continues, you are merciless.
Please let me go and stop this oppression,
Time to allow someone else the pleasure of this succession.
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 12:59 AM UTC
skirts rustle across the floor
whispers of movement
and conversation, the conversations!
voices fill the room to the rafters
brimming with that peculiar sound
(and the occasional snubbed toe)
while in the background,
unnoticed save as the source of everything
fists raised for the next passage
black and brown in synchronized movement
the body drones, chucks falling in heartbeats
but the mechanics do not worry him
while his background hums in boredom
he is thinking about the prince in common time
stately marching fanfare
with a tinge of melancholy
so vivid in his eyes
the picture so vivid as if he was marching in that very room
destined to marry the girl
arranged by his well meaning parents
pretty enough but...
that other girl catches his eye
his heartbeat
his passion
how does he choose?
here come the boom chuck chucks
that elusive three four
cueing waltzes with each and both
whirling around the floor
a reflection of reality…
but this is their reality
how, can he choose?
but in the end, it’s his duty that calls him
his duty calls
in this big bright burning yellow room
no happily ever after for this fairytale prince
Feb 19, 2010
Feb 19, 2010 at 10:44 AM UTC
I'll lie on my back
with dignity's shadow blanketed
over me. The clouds are in the shape
of an hourglass, and they spell out
my glory days
in shades of goodbye.
Unwarranted and unlocked memories.
Closed doors that I
clawed at, snubbed
fingers and blistered emotions. There are novels
filled with what ifs underneath the dirt
of my fingernails. I'd like to resubmit my
application
of trying again
to whoever has the time to
listen to hallow words.
After all this time
I have been as vapid as a dissipating
cloud. My legacy will be
sinking my teeth into
forbidden fruit laced with
ambition. Its the worst drug. You only
need one taste for it to
affect you forever, and one mistake
for it to choke you.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 11:17 AM UTC