"succes" poems
Life's just a bottle of embarrassment with a lemon of succes.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 2:24 AM UTC
On the ground,
I keep an eye on the world,
the world of flowers,
I've seen succes like the Amaryllis,
the sweet sense of the Apple Blossom,
the desire of Camellia's passion,
and the forgiveness of the daffodil,
So many flowers in this world,
SO many possibilities
feels like a garden,
but something bothers me,
deep inside of me
something I always wonder,
watashi no hana wa doko desuka?
Where is my flower?
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 4:01 AM UTC
In order to be succesful you must be a fool…
Thats the worse advise you can get ever..
I am so hurt after i got an advise like that…
Maybe i dont get the message right, help.
Being stupid means letting other people oppress you to get succesful,
I stil dont get it…
Steve Biko ” THEY HAVE TAKEN A BRIEF LOOK AT WHAT IS, AND HAVE DIAGNOSED THE PROBLEM INCORRECTLY. THEY HAVE ALMOST COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN ABOUT THE SIDE EFFECTS AND HAVE NOT EVEN CONSIDERED THE ROOT CAUSE. HENCE WHATEVER IS IMPROVISED AS A REMEDY WILL HARDLY CURE THE CONDITION.” From I write what i like the chapter We blacks…
The sad part is even after 19years of democratic freedom in South Africa, some people wont change the State of mind about racial oppression it stil exist especially more in work plaće enviroment…
For someone who grew up Free, born Free generation stil put the whites superior and continue worshiping them to be superior than the other fellow nlack brothers grow up…
I am a fighter, i refuse to sell my soul to please fellow White brothers for favours of better treatment because of my dark Colored skin…
Its a sign, with the more knowledge i am equiping My self with for better and my space of democratic freedom and rights, i will succed in life…
For all the previously disadvantaged people they went through some tough time and cruel struggle…
For instance the “72 Hour Clause. A clause in apartheid regulations which controlled the movement of African from one district to another.”
Those people struggled but they fought dor equality. Now that we have equality you stil wanna plaese a fellow White brother with all the previllages you have.
I my self i know that through struggle that i encounter in life i learn more on survival and live to tell a story…
Im dissapointed already about some of the side effect of the past but im not ackwoledging racial discrimination nor even allow it to happen infront of me with a mute sense…
Can’t you see the light!
Its sign…
For all the unprevillaged people the is no succes without a struggle…
From the struggle you learn how to survive and live to tell a story…
Don’t water a thorn tree and expect an apple…
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 2:41 AM UTC
Jack ropes and merriopes
In solicitous rhyme in fer derilious velope
envy implicitous insectuaryan harridannous
Ensole brodequins forbearing to lace
Trace elements of that remaining empoisonous
For failure interred
Is succes disinterred? And if so, form where?
Where derinferred strands failure unerred
By error masked muscovado coloured Breadth
Pneumonic, perhaps caustically mate
Aerial’d on the glib side of acoustical elimination
Veritable under pooh stick discrimination
Matte clouds of drab depression ove in
An area of low pressure
According to yon hypothalamic forecaster. Core has ter
Fail lently viola lapidavitious stretch so she as
fer ter rousse fer ter kamuskova. An epic
Scribbled on der calen.
Sole of brevity then being approximately an inch and a
Bit minus that
Torrent all yendergelpin cleaving
The very schism wit! It cynicism
Be as may be a pea, no spelling bee entrusted
Where? In there? In that jumble of line?
Barely knows his lime from his rhyme, or indeed
Lime from lime.
He’s just trying to fill up that calendrous space
And make some sense of it.
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC
*Winter winds have come and gone
Empty nests await the return
Of new yolk to settle in
Under warmth of northern feathers
Innocent cries seeking moist crumbs
Filled with love and sacrifice
Born not learned, actions not words
Fly one time, fear not fall
Look ahead to brand new skies
Fly again more strength each try
Now alone but returns
Continued growth under guidance
Mistakes will happen, scars arise
Health cannot develop without
ills of stumbles, succes not full
On to a new branch not far
From where youth was left behind
For now, empty remains atop a tree
Cold and hollow among the winds
That silence the songs of love and joy
Celebrate now, rejoice then
It is a home expecting to fill
The void of this chilly season
And when the sun is bright and smiles
It is assured to see the birth
As success comes flying in*
Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 9:07 AM UTC
I was told i wasn't smart enough.
I was told that i wouldn't achieve anything.
But here i am, standing on a stage. Undressed by all my imperfections
With emotional nakedness in front of the mic.
Covered in fear, but driven by courage.
We've all been told something negative.
However our necessity to survive these discouragements should keep our dreams alive.
We should follow our happiness like footsteps in a minefield.
And let succes exist through the art that we create.
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 9:01 PM UTC
If you should come upon a painting by Mark Rothko in a museum -
I'll assume you are not one of those billionaires who has one hanging on the dining room wall, or hidden away in a secret room behind the bookcase -
but either way, do not just look at the painting or you will see nothing.
Well, except color. You will see color. Rothko loved color.
But wait a while and you will begin to hear it whisper its secrets:
How lives are layered upon lives;
how painful sacrifices
get buried beneath petty ambitions and lies
and joys and succes as well-
oh, and perhaps another layer or two of color.
Each generation scrapes the parchment clean
and blithely scribes new marks on its surface -
confident that they will not forget the lessons
that seem so absurdly obvious.
Empires disappear beneath overgrown vines
and dieties who, drunk on the blood of virgins
would feast on the hearts of conquered warrors
but now shuffle past each other
with oblivious nods, grousing about the food,
wait for the day someone remembers their names.
Listen and perhaps you will learn
how every layer of life is a forgotten secret
discernable only by its subtle influence
on the layers that are built up above it.
If not. There is always the color. Rothko loved color.
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
De er indspiste som selvpillede rejer
Elsker konkurrenten som de hader sig selv
Katalysatoren for deres eksistens
er udelukkelsen af andre eksistentialister
Laver en kollektiv udskillelse
når de bruger mainstreamkulturen som værktøj til succes
Deres skjulte agendaer er ikke for blotte øjne
selvom flokdyrsinstinkterne sitrer gennem deres røde skæl.
Påtaget inkompetente sociale kompetencer
smalltalk er for de prætentiøse
De kløgtige rejer vil ikke undervurderes
for fiskenettene undslipper de altid
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
To the person who spends 6 days a week at work,
5 days filled with exercise,
4 days surrounded by friends,
3 days at school
2 days working on yourself and
1 day to relax and play soccer.
Life is to short to be short of time for yourself.
You lack the sympathy from others so you can't even think about what you want for yourself. You need to realize all this hard work is getting you minimum wage, lack of friends and a lack of you.
If you were to look in a mirror, would you see succes painted across your forehead, or would you see a blank slate smothered across your face. Your eyes have become blackened with other peoples succes as you watch them stomp in front of you. Your heart has become cold like the moonlight you use to see before you became a "Hard worker". Look through your problems and reconstruct. Mold your future into something you remembered brought you joy, and don't become the person you are now.
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 11:53 PM UTC
I see the sun everyday,
but I never see who created it.
I see the people everyday,
but I never see honest on them.
I see the succes people everytime,
but I can't see who behind them.
I see the human everytime,
But I can't see humanity.
I see Animal Everytime,
but the people act like animal.
Get away from your rush,
Get closer to your God.
Assalamualaikum
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 7:36 PM UTC
Jeg undertrykker følelsen af
at ville svømme -
styrte, dykke og falde.
Alle tre på én gang.
Følelsen af at vakle mellem
Succes og fiasko
At blive forrådt og stukket i ryggen
Langsom smerte
-
med hundrede kilometer i timen.
Ideen om at blive liggende og
aldrig være i stand til at rejse sig.
Angst og tømmermænd,
i en helvedes cocktail.
At vide med sikkerhed at
tanker kan dræbe,
hvis de råber højt nok.
Følelsen om aldrig at kunne lykkedes.
At ikke engang præcision -
gør perfektion.
Det eneste vi stræber efter.
At vi alle er engle med stækkede vinger -
holdt nede af fysikkens love –
nye højder kan vi kun drømme om.
At giraffer umuligt findes
og at ord som forståelse
og tilgivelse
Blot er ord.
-
Men hvad? Det er jo bare tanker.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
Underlying all the confidence and succes there's a longing that I've known of for some time
Looking earnestly inside herself behind courage I can see the concern within her eyes
Who will guide the girl who's reached such destinations as so few have in her span of life
Who can tell her where to find such a thing as love and therin lift all the underlying strife
Did you know that she runs quickly simply because she feels as if she might get away
Burying her being within herself in hopes that someday the wishes just might fade
Looking at tomorrow as not just another day, but a possibility that she might rise
All these things and more I find I realize whenever I stare into Sarah's eyes
Whispering while screaming, you may never know of the sudden turmoil that lies within her mind
Whirring through the days and nights that she's lived through, trying to not leave a detail behind
For in the faces and the people that wear them, he may shine within her memory one day
The one tales promised that would come into her life, bringing the colors out the underlying gray
Somewhere inside she will find that she is more than she gives credit for, though it won't be tonight
And you'll see confidence and a smile, within it a prayer that she will be alright
As I pass her by, I'll find inside a glimpse I am remembered as a possibility
For Sarah asks not for a name or a story, but on things that she hope might transpire to be
Feb 25, 2013
Feb 25, 2013 at 9:24 AM UTC
*Everytime I try to think of someone else,
Everything just blurs and goes blank for a long time.
I’m beginning to lose my mind because of you.
You're driving my whole world insane.
You bought my heart for a thousand smiles.
You never left me to be forgotten.
I gave you my body, my everything.
And now you stole my mind.
I’m sticking needles inside my skin,
Just to forget you.
The nightmares are pretending to be you,
Pulling me deeper down.
The illusions, hallucinations.
They exist because of you,
Never leaving me alone.
Always drugging me,
Making me eager for your love.
They’re drinking my soul,
Feeding off of my negativity.
Pressuring me to think more,
Making me the petty victim here.
They’re forcing me to drink,
They’re getting me drunk from my habits.
They’re making homemade guilt,
Forcing it down my throat.
Making me delusional,
I can't see through right and wrong.
They want me to believe I did it,
And they know they’re gonna succes.
They’re inflicting damage to my reality,
They’re brainwashing me, ******* everything out.
They change me, they’ve changed me.
They’ve destroyed me.
You’re my only desire for freedom,
You’re my opportunity to get away from it all.
You’re the only one I would remember,
If my life should disappear.
I’m only a doll, a machine for a greedy heart.
I’m ill, im psychotic.
I see things, I hear things.
And I know it, but i still believe every single thing.
I never did see the murderous intent
Of the expression in my eyes.
I avoided mirrors to flee from the sickening thoughts.
But things stand clearer now.
You wanted to walk away,
So I caught you.
And broke open your body,
To devour your life. I wanted you all to myself,
I wanted to treasure you forever.
I exist because of you,
And now I endure responsibilities of my crazy mistake.
Nothing’s false, nothing’s true.
They’ve taken everything there is to take.*
Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 5:50 PM UTC
Still, still, in the silent revelation
of an undiscovered thought,
violent by nature
tempestuous
undertones of gradient succes
mindless tests,
confrontational mess
still the new leaf, lovers in the light of
fright,
the night with milky shades of sight,
sound as still, still, like the silent revelation
of an undiscovered thought
wake to still
calm thy head
the cavities of
unrest,
numbness at best
mess, of mind
tangled thread
much, too much
mild mannered
maneuvers, meek,
passive and complacent
stuck in the basement of
forward moving stagnant
lowly, little steps
descending, ascent pending
for a revolution
jacket too stiff,
no peace from
pollution,
human heart pollution
grey faced institutions,
failure soup,
smooth money,
compelling sandwhich
of gold-toothed grannys
insanity,
death’s locker a
spray painted
noir
and n’er to do better
than sell, sell
the well wishers
a lock of lamentable
whiskers,
unshaven unclean
a force of mean
momentary pleasure
of possession,
empty
and quick in succession
your price,
of niceties
is too high for me
eyes red with subtlety
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 10:38 AM UTC
are you happy?
did killing me make your smile?
did the steps you made to succes
with my broken heart
get you where your going?
are you happy?
are you living with love in your heart?
did the moment you left me
fill with joy?
how long do.we have to stay apart?
are you happy?
and if you are
i will **** myself
because that means for 3 years
i kept you depressed
i.made you bulimic
suicidal
and lost instead of found
are you happy?
Because if i made you that depressed when i was trying
how have i hurt the people i didn't strive to fix
are you happy?
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC
Jager efter det uopnåelige
Jager efter det perfekte
Jager efter succes
Jager efter ?
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 4:05 PM UTC
What is love ?
Love have many meanings.
Love God, family, friends and her/his.
Love God with completed sholah ,
you will get her bless,
for the rest of your life.
Love family with responsiblities,
you will get their bless,
and you will succes in your carier.
Love friends with helping them,
because one day,
if we were in emergency,
they have beside.
lastly,
Love her/his with trust,
you will never dissapointed,
and regret.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 11:00 AM UTC
They will never be royal
And we won't ever be normal.
Cause they look for a title,
And we break all our idols.
Oh the pain of there succes,
Oh the healing of our downs.
Love is a battlefield for them,
Love is our gravity that keeps our feet on the ground.
Keep thy rod and they loose there place,
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 5:28 AM UTC
the key to succes may be different for everyone
is it money, a jod, a wife, kids, things you want.
for me and most
it's about taking chances
change in life
reaching for what you think
that you cannot acheive
don't be scared of being let down
thats part of life
always remember
we live life on life's terms
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC
I scared her away from me, intense
feelings, she can not understand I do.
A person searching, climbing on to
and holding tight, when he can not sense,
the words are mumbled, the fear gets
immensely strong, don't flee, stay
for just one other song. We say
it all will be okay. Once she lets
her passion flow, the fear will fade,
folded up and poured into a form,
made,
printed paper, still warm.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 7:26 PM UTC
I am from the apartments, from sharing a room and living cramped
I am from the loud arguments, the bitter taste in my mouth
I am from the cactus, its’ prickly thorns attached
the dark rose, its’ petals slowly wilting
I am from eating dinner together and a loud volume
From John and Sonia and Gloria
I am from the stress and expectations
From not letting it get to you and ignoring it
I am from self taught Christianity, and talks with God at night
I’m from Portugal, Venezuela, and Columbia
Cheese Bread and Empanadas
From the forklift accident, the recovery, and the epileptic Grandma
I am from the strength of the women in my family
I am from the stacks of paperwork
I am from a course of self-discovery and awareness
I am from the first generations journey to succes
Aug 27, 2023
Aug 27, 2023 at 11:34 AM UTC
Het succes ligt voor de hand,
Is bijna niet meer te ontwijken.
Iedereen lijkt van een andere kant
Steeds hetzelfde te bereiken
Zij heeft een diploma, een huisje
En een baan. Ze viert dat als een luisje,
Lijkt maar half te bestaan.
Als ik klaar ben met studeren,
Kraait dan diezelfde haan?
Zullen anderen mij eren
Of is voldoening slechts een waan.
Ik zal het maar proberen
Anders is er niet veel aan
Je moet ergens voor kunnen leven,
dus kies ik voor elke volgende kus
Die jij mij misschien zou willen geven.
Jun 20, 2019
Jun 20, 2019 at 5:52 PM UTC
The kick of a poor waking man is stunning,
It shocks the rich men,who would like their workers to remain poor forever.
The rise of a poor man is painful,
Contrary to his expectations!
Truly, burning dry grass, burns even the green leaves!
No good name describe a poor waking man, it's ******** and satanic.
To get a worker, why suppress the poor?
Don't they have rights to lead better lives?
Don't they have next generations?
Don't they have guts for better food and clothing?
Why?
Why are you always paying them peanuts?
You want them to always lead a hand to mouth life?
What does pain you, for the succes of poor a chap?
Or you want to" assist "for always,
To ironically "care" for always?
You are comfortable "feeding" them, as the sweat to dine?
What's this pain?
When they wear rags and work under unknown pressure, it's your happiness?
I'm sorry, i will sue you.
In a court of no mercy,
Where justice don't prevail,
I will make sure you loose,
I will not feel your pain,
I will **** your ill fated spirits!!!!
Because your paing, releaves the poor man!
Jun 20, 2019
Jun 20, 2019 at 6:34 AM UTC
Temporary friends, travelling in the same
direction, seated on the floor of a train
that did not pass inspection, heated
in arguments, chilled by the outdoors
but thrilled, had never felt the pain
others carried deep within their cores.
As they smoked inside and lied
about succes and achieved goals,
as the roaring fire charred coals,
they searched for a place to hide,
a place to look up at the sky at night
and still feel safe.
By day they read books
and faced exchanging looks
as the rusty train paced
across this barren land
that'd gripped them in it's clutch.
Some drank too much,
were overmanned, forgot to stand.
Its final destination was a meadow
dark and pure, the only light
came from up above as if it meant to lure
our strangers closer to endure
the shinings our moon reflected.
Even if these people weren't to be trusted
even if their skin was scarred, lip busted
and they made decisions with a coin to flip,
why or how they came up with the trip,
if they were classy, sketchy or messy,
no one got rejected. They made this,
the least ignorant form of bliss.
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 6:46 PM UTC