"standings" poems
Yes,
I got bars,
it's not about fancy cars or Lil Wayne rapping about Mars.
So far I am marred and scarred by false charm,
burned and charred that we are stuck in this dung tar.
It's about understanding we are stuck in the under standings so understand this,
can bring raze as I raise and rise to clear out these rinse and repeat Rhymes.
I don't care about the money or women.
Will your Rap make a difference.
Only a few got the conscious to talk about love.
The rest is a pile of **** I put to the side and shove.
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
I try my hand at poetry,
I am no great talent.
I write words that flow endlessly and messily
from my heart, merging with the words
my brain creates in its boredom.
I try my hand at being a girlfriend,
I have no great talent at this either.
For I often ruin my own good standings,
as if to stand only a little higher than my partner.
I try my hand at helping,
though I do not extend it as often
as I like. Most days it is hard enough
taking my own hand.
I try my hand at greatness,
though it cannot be measured
until the day comes where the only
thing my hand tries is resting for
eternity.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
Well this is great
My pre-mature heartbreak
But at least now I see
We are never going to be
I thought after once
I would learn to stay away
But then we started talking
And I knew I couldn’t stay
I tried to get you back
Back to our old standings
Then you dropped
That small-mighty phrase
But it’ll be ok
My heart’s hidden away
Wearing its duct tape mask
Feeling the same pain
So now I see
Pre-maturely
Now I see
I can’t give up on we
Mar 30, 2011
Mar 30, 2011 at 8:15 PM UTC
as promised, a tip for and to nolly
•<>•
“Everybody is identical in their secret unspoken belief that way deep down they are different from everyone else.”
David Foster Wallace
•<>•
it is as if I've been stripped bare and their is no air or
barrel handy,
bankrupted by exposure of my less-than-clean ***** secret,
scrapped from under my tongue, my genuine creativity,
it is no different than yours or hers or anybody else, but
"I need to believe," he screeches, "say it ain't so!"
time again to tally up the wins and losses,
check the standings, the numerical columns,
nope, wasn't selected to be MVP or even loved by the
algorithmic ridiculous secret sauce
"poem of the day" blah blah blah
bottom line: "You’re Pretty Normal"
comfort or consternation, exhalations of relief,
or just another nail in the shutting of
your depression coffin calculation
this no longer unspoken arrogance undressed
brings me to a quiet place,
where you are welcome to sit beside,
this puzzle together, nuzzled,
perhaps more soluble
they don't make Advil for the mind,
so read the good ones,
and be reminded of this
your published spoken courageous poetry need satisfy
only you, and no one more
*in there lies the rub, the vive la difference, we identically different,
no longer a secret,
every poem is the difference you make*
August 2017
in the sunroom,
Shelter Island
<•>
BONUS POEM!!!
Nolly's Haiku #17/#70
with good knowing that
distress and forethought,
are its mother and father
that this poetic output but a derivative
of your unique self,
see,
maybe, you be
maybe
just wise enough
to curse the birth of poem at age seventeen
but just wait Nolly,
till you are seven tens, and poetry's folly,
make you even more practiced in cursing,
still asking, why
and getting the sendoff, kiss off,
of the one true answer,
nobody knows
so scribble a life time when you start at 17
and when the ripe and wizened answers in your old age
have yet to arrive
*then you can call yourself an accursed
wizened but wise'ed old poet*
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
I remember social standings
stood standing on my own
My face all red and flustered
as I'd fidget with my phone.
And all it would have taken,
was a few kind simple words.
To break those chains of *******
to return me to the world.
Us humans we're a strange oul race
we all like to fit in,
and with our pack mentality
it's all about the win.
But what about those on the edge
the souls you choose to fail.
What is it, you think they feel
as you turn away.
See people carry things around
like weights around their neck
So please be understanding
and show them some respect.
Do onto them, all that you would
like done onto your own.
Meet them with a friendly smile,
or call them on the phone.
That call could make a difference
more than you'd ever know.
For its not really hard to care............
It helps us all to grow.
For its not really hard to love............
Its not that hard to show.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 3:29 PM UTC
God, give me the Strength & Courage
To be all that I Want to Be
A man of many Honorable Standings
One who all seek to Rely On
In their Weakest Moments
A man who holds the Truth of God
One who delivers the Scriptures with Meaning
Even to those who have turned to look the Other Way
A man who once was Humble
One who was down on his Luck
Kicked to the curb and Left for Dead
God, your scriptures of True Manifest
Have lifted me Up to my Feet
To embark on the Immaculate Journey
Alongside You
Apr 28, 2010
Apr 28, 2010 at 6:20 AM UTC
When last I had seen merry England
It was tattered with midnight soot that beckoned the denouement of the human condition.
Begrudgingly, the people meandered with heads held low
And dreams held lower.
The simplest way to determine the societal standings of each and all was by their clothing; save that all of their dispositions were ones of the played out and spent.
Happiness lay mountains, valleys, oceans away.
Aboard this great ship,
This hulking bumberdun of wood and steel,
I felt at ease.
Even upon these hostile tides did I feel an unraveling away of the self imposed mummifications that I had attached to myself.
I arose when I pleased,
I dined when I pleased,
And I drank as I pleased.
And not one such "captain" ****** himself with the responsibility of slavedriving.
No one had to.
For the man that suaded the great ship was John Franklin,
A man who commanded as much respect as we could muster.
And who deserved more honor than existence could give.
Franklin was never seen out of form,
Perpetually at the fore and scanning the horizons
Seemingly as if he could see beyond what that of a mortal man could,
What that of a mortal man should.
When we happened upon the mouth of the passage,
Naught but a slight smile escaped him
As the crew drank and shouted with jubilant glee that one might expect from a cathedral when the Lord Almighty had fell upon that place.
For this was Franklin's church
And this was his religion.
Had he believed himself to be God it would not have seemed so far fetched that others would not be led to believe.
But then a tear,
A small and just single tear,
Lazed from his eye
Leaving a trail that one might expect from a dove with no concrete destination.
A hush fell over the men.
All merry making ceased.
All stared in wild-eyed awe towards the regal, icy mountain ranges on the horizon.
Lush, full meadows blanketed the grounds along the mainland.
Whatever paths we had followed to this point were routes well cut.
The sadness,
Sorrow,
Joy,
And loss,
All things fell by the wayside.
Some men prayed,
Others began singing.
Regardless of religious preference,
Each man joined in,
Not so much singing as it were wailing and graciously weeping Amazing Grace
As Franklin led the choir.
God is a mountain in the farthest north of the Americas
And Heaven lay in his valley.
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 12:51 AM UTC
outstanding
i do not research the words's etymology,
for it might steal it's magic from me,
you take me to different places different nights,
in shoes that hold eyes that see those sights.
that I cannot, though perhaps commonplace,
they are
out standing of my welds experience
so i, we, are voyeurs to a moment of humanity,
and i am out side, outside my body, in your visions,
out standing, near by, by words, moved by words,
composed outstandingly…
and now under~standings achingly transport me to
where you have been/seen
and send us
Sep 8, 2025
Sep 8, 2025 at 4:49 AM UTC
In tired atlases the doorman in pressed uniform
Outstretches his left hand to the ladies right
The rich waver in snare drum vibration as the
Will seekers unnerve the puppy parade behind door #42
And when with you, I wish to be away
And when far, I only wonder where you are
Peddling rose craning over dusty text books
See the light of the sun across the prodigal meadow
Around the peso saloon under a half smiling moon
Every man you pass can't help but whistle to salute you
There's no reason to fight
And there's no reason to whine
With you and this moon, there will never be enough time
We are the fortunate young running wild half interested
Ignorant and wanting the next death, ****** war
Laugh tract addicts and screen dragging junkies
Pushing social standings to the edge of digital ego insanity
When the sick die, they are released to the Earth
When they ****** die, they are released to their past
When the blessed die, they are released into eternity
When the rest die, they are released onto the back pages of newspapers
I look out through these eyes I have
Seeing the world through a perception tainted, beaten, and enriched
To seek change, is only natural, but in the end, futile
Escaping myself would be my ultimate creation
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 2:48 AM UTC
Didn't sleep again and I'm not referring to the meandering standings between One and the Nothing.
Can't feel that pain anymore since my head decided to bash into a wall making a numbsickle out of my frontal corridor.
Reality decided to sneak a peek using one handed greased quick release dropping shock haunting timepieces at my door.
Now down for the wide surge forging realization through pores reinvented from ancestral necessity making us One all encompassing.
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 12:48 AM UTC
Date: Feb 17, 2009 5:22 PM
Subject: poetry may sproing out of me sometimes
the mist of a deeper mystery can clue me in
on the relevant standings of a step toward the real
glancing carefully and sending the flood of words
that are meant to ****** the curiosity as to the frontier
the found fist and fingers fondling a flirtible flag
the flag of needs and desires is as hot as the starting gun
but love does no competing to attain or obtain its chore
the goal is to evolve into a happy pattern of poems that inspire action unheard-of, previously.... shall i try a few?
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 7:01 AM UTC
*They said we blended together.
Races, genders, sexuality, social standings,
all blended together only leaving silent individuality.
We all know its lies though.
The jocks never acknowledge the brainiacs,
the young boys mock the girls in gym class,
different races segregate themselves away from others.
We are blind towards the real definition of 'equals'.
You keep saying we're the same,
please stop lying to us.*
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 2:31 PM UTC
Between the crooks and nannies
In a booth with seven *******
There's no way they could stand me se cre t swi mm ing
pools
Heathen if they're understanding a bed wetting fool
Could that mean they understand me I'm sure I'd Right that too
I hear a lot about our standings If I had nothing Left to say
but what I think will be standing
is the dust particles of landings
and the Sun light filling crackings away
I'm too good for the attackings
I understand my lackings and then we float
Got a tenacious grasp for love love love love love Stacking bodies to the flood
Limb to a tree
Flower to a bee
You to a meeeeee
and eye to eye
I have left myself dry on and Island watching the 4th of July
Why oh why Did I ever lead that guy into a terrible lie
Mask to a Foe
Mask of a Friend
Do you ask to wear it well or can I see you again
Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 8:39 PM UTC
Who are you to say why I lay awake?
Who am I to confess my dreams?
Do not push this upon me, the sunrise is already too much for my weakened mind.
Diseased with another night's restless fighting, no need to remind me of what had happened.
Let me sleep another peaceful empty way, one I know how to work out.
Shutting my eyes tight begging for relief while my hips move with their own heartbeat.
Who are you to judge how I fall asleep?
Who am I to say that it's anything unnatural?
Feeling thrown out to dry in the sun, branded as if we were breeding cattle.
Freed for a moment from the torment that chases me, relief just fingertips away.
A brief moment of solidarity in the life of balancing on the dancing edge of insanity, grounding me not to the earth simply but, to myself as well.
Humanly humble actions bring pains of pleasure and the guilt of social standings along with it.
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 4:13 AM UTC
define, for me, truth
of the absolute variety,
and then maybe
i will reconsider
my moral standings.
BUT.
(in the meantime)
do not speak on
what you do not know.
open your mind!
to let new ideas flood it
like a house in a valley
after a torrential downpour.
you say "you won't get far
with THAT attitude"-
and to that i say
"WATCH ME."
i'll be flying a mile high
while you watch from below;
eyes wide with shock,
jaw open on the ***** ground.
tell me,
how does that taste?
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 2:09 AM UTC
In light of current world standings
The committee of the human condition
Has agreed to conduct an experiment
Each of you will be given precisely
Three hours, in which you are to find
Another
Interpret these instructions as you will
Your time begins now
Sep 14, 2011
Sep 14, 2011 at 6:48 PM UTC
Though
I sound poetically incorrect
I heart you
Hearter
Than any man
Can ever
I’m a realist
Not a stenciled prince
Are you unconvinced?
Conniving acts
Are for those
Who can’t match
We’re misplacements
Made purposely
To find
Each other
Well,
We’ve found!
Though,
You look excited
We should settle down
Before
Anyone notice’s
This happiness
And tries to end
Ride and Die
If we must
Go out
Like Bonnie & Clyde
In the dust…
Die in the ride
We rode to death
We won’t go
Like Romeo or Juliette
Russian roulettes’
For the odds
And we have demands
**** chancing
On standings
We already have
Forget about whatever
And focus on forever
We have too much left
After this life
To worry about now...
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 1:00 AM UTC
I've never seen forests so small
as the ones I see in your eyes.
I could get lost in them forever
but could never stop asking "Why?"
Why do they look back at me
when i seem such a bore?
Why do they look as if to say
"I just wish I knew you more"?
Why do princes get the princess
and why do the boorish get the boring?
Why are rules made that way,
and why do they seem to be breaking?
Why am I not being shunted,
shooed away, threatened or hunted?
Why are you so willing to overlook roles,
overlook standings, classes, and rules?
You're the definition of immortal beauty,
it will never fade from your face
and the melody that charms me happy
will never fade from your voice.
So why is this goddess sitting with this mortal?
any vague allure I have will fade,
and she will still be an unmelting snowflake
in this world -
- an inferno -
destroying all anyone's made.
So has a frog found a princess?
why must one change to suit the other?
Maybe when they kiss
no one changes,
instead they both forget their lines
drop their roles and leave their masks behind.
Maybe Jack and Jill will say
"Forget the hill"
to see where life will take them.
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 2:09 AM UTC
My mind is like crank, turning out ideas
Look around this room, no cobwebs here
The door is always open, I'm hoping you see me
As just the same as you, a man with little plan
But still stand for whatever belief I hold,
The fact is all the gold in the world
Isn't worth your integrity, regrettably,
Some can be sold, I stand before you
With a five and a seven, still never fold
I'm that wild card, that was hard to shuffle,
Feathers covered in oil and ruffled,
The secret is I've got ridges, Forget being religious,
You're a god, make a miracle, they may shun you,
Like a man believing in a world that's spherical.
Still someone has to climb that ladder,
At day's end you can look in a mirror
And it may not shatter.
Life is good, the hell of today, it fades.
Put down the rope and take up knot - tying
Similarly, the people who look down at you for not trying
Are not trying to see how hard you are trying.
It's not worth crying to the same lace pillow case
About that dream you believe you aren't good enough to chase
Fads and trends blend until you can't tell them apart
But real passion is only found in heart and reflected through eyes
In an adult world, that part of humans seems to die.
Alright. Jump and possibly fly.
Build people up with dreams like legos
And let go of the expectation of current standings
The runway may not be clear but you don't need landing
Plan for the best, the worst just ends in a hearse
Believe me, I've been unbreathing.
A good night, I fly into?
drag me from my flesh, I'm not leaving.
Don't believe me, I'll almost die twenty times with a heart beating.
I'm not leaving.
You'll have to **** a soul from my soles until this ground swallows me whole.
Still this body will never go cold.
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 12:57 AM UTC
In my perfect world, their is no money.
In my perfect world, their is no social standings.
In my perfect world, natural selection still implies.
There is no capitalism in my world, everything is done by the people themselves.
My world is the opposite of the American life I have now.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 2:54 PM UTC
2.22.14
Darling, where are you when I need you most?
My heart is breaking.
I don't know what I'm feeling anymore, maybe nothing.
I've missed you for the past month and a half.
It's killing me inside to not talk to you.
I've said this all before, I know.
You said you wanted someone who cared for you and who loved you.
Have you already forgotten about me?
Wasn't I anything?
Did you actually love me, darling>
Or was a step along the way, a test ride, a pre to a post?
I tried so **** hard for you, darling, I tried.
I wanted to to make you happy so I tried to smile even though I couldn't.
I tried to tell you everything but I couldn't because you would be unhappy with me.
I was terrified of losing you.
Petrified to be exact.
You were my rope, my tether quickly fraying.
Please hold me down again.
I'm sad, once more.
So sad it physically pains me to say your name.
God's telling me to suffer for the wrongs I did you.
You never believed in God, I remember.
Do you now?
I want to know how you're doing even as I try to forget you.
One of these nights I want to call you and hear you say hello before quickly hanging up.
I want to ask how you sister is doing or if you've gotten a dog yet.
I want to know whether or not you've made songs yet or if your dad has his you lately.
I want to know if you miss me or us.
Have you found someone else to "fill" the empty spot in your heart?
Are you well?
Do you miss me?
You should see all the poems I've written about you.
People say it's beautiful how pained I sound, but they don't ask who did it to me, who caused the pain.
Not many people do, now that I look back on it.
When you broke up with me everybody sided with you because they didn't think you'd be capable of causing this much hurt.
You're too humble, too giving, to...nice.
I guess I'm alone in my standings.
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC
I awoke this morning
to the feeling of being reborn.
Opening eyes to true beauty
Instead of drowning in fear and remaining a heart that’s torn.
Shining rays of promise
that reflect from my newer beliefs in my newly found strengths
People greet the new me as the see one who warms their days
with the light that is true selflessness.
Hope in hearts that seek better ways
Strength in numbers of those who walk together
on healthier pathways..
From broken to whole
Out with the useless Sorrows and then refilled with great Hope
We achieve great things when we have a clearer view….
We no longer have to question and magnify the unknown underneath
a distorted view in a microscope.
Breaking free from the limited boundaries of our fears and misunderstandings..
We become open to the limitless lands of promise, brighter ways,and the truer bravery
Brighter futures are our newly found destinations..
Love and Victory Shall come in time…To those enlightened in warmer standings.
From this newer and clearer view
The world becomes a better place
As we rebuild it with materials that were made by the reclaimed strengths that were always inside of you.
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
Do you see your purpose as accumulation of wealth?
Do you make such things your social standings health?
Is it what drives you and gives you all your worth?
Is it what you were told gave purpose so shortly after birth?
Do you live each moment trying to add another buck?
Were you taught when very young you cant rely on luck?
Do you seek more property to add comfort to your plight?
Do you check the market for profits won throughout the night?
Do you count and tally all the notes that you can hold?
Do you calculate all you've traded, paid for, bought or sold?
Do you know the faces on every type of bill?
Is the pile getting ever higher and climbing higher still?
Do you make money from the lowly when they are forced to fight?
Do you really call this purpose and see it as your right?
Is your life for paper with a slogan proclaiming "In God We Trust"
I'm not alone in praying, one day God will send you bust.
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 9:16 AM UTC
Revolution does not begin in silence,
but with whispers–
a steady rise in tempo,
a cacophony of intent, leading to anarchy.
She says I’m inciting chaos
and my coworkers shun me in aftermath
because I dared question a flaw– a fault–
a crack in the earth
where mountains rise and sidewalks tremble.
I’m inciting chaos– but it was just conversation,
the kind that signs declarations, constitutions
and drafts beget into militia standings–
because how dare I speak in private?
I notice discourse, and I follow,
and question designs built on theft,
braced upon effort to keep us docile.
My chaos
Pulses in my temple– but with accusal
I’ll graft it upon my knuckles, my
wrists, arms, and face.
I’ll be the hurricane they sought to quell–
the fire, the rage burning in hearts,
minds, and whispers. I’ll light
that match, and watch their worlds burn.
I can be that whisper.
I can be that chaos.
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 12:53 PM UTC