"traditionalist" poems - Hello Poetry

I call my father's father Ye-Ye because he is a traditionalist and the word grandfather reminds him of England. My mother calls him a selfish ******* because he never approved of her wallet's emptiness and walked out of her wedding. My father calls him an immature ***** because he throws temper tantrums at eighty-seven and still doesn't respect anyone. When I was five, I stayed over alone for the first time. I accused him of trying to poison me because I found a dead fly in my soup. When I was ten, I found a coupon at the market And got him a free box of Cheerios. When I was thirteen, I was sitting with him outside. I got stung by a bee and didn't say a word. I have not seen my grandfather in seven years. He has since almost died four times. My aunt calls him a racist snob because he refused to put my biracial cousin's picture on the mantle and boasts of his friend's grandchildren instead.

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Jul 8, 2013

Jul 8, 2013 at 1:03 AM UTC

greysaps

Grandfather

I call my father's father Ye-Ye because he is a traditionalist and the word grandfather reminds him of England. My mother calls him a selfish ******* because he never approved of her wallet's emptiness and walked out of her wedding. My father calls him an immature ***** because he throws temper tantrums at eighty-seven and still doesn't respect anyone. When I was five, I stayed over alone for the first time. I accused him of trying to poison me because I found a dead fly in my soup. When I was ten, I found a coupon at the market And got him a free box of Cheerios. When I was thirteen, I was sitting with him outside. I got stung by a bee and didn't say a word. I have not seen my grandfather in seven years. He has since almost died four times. My aunt calls him a racist snob because he refused to put my biracial cousin's picture on the mantle and boasts of his friend's grandchildren instead.

25

It's not cute, I don't find it funny. The lack of concern for education, And your glasses aren't cute either. I'm growing quite tired of the lame leaders. Expectation to teach the future generation. The warriors, in a future of unknowing, By the ignorant, traditionalist. And I could sit here all day, Catching glints of light off your hip glasses. Peppered with egocentric, infantile remarks. So cute The lack of education So cute The lack of nutrition So cute The false profits; the obtuse teachers So cute Your hip glasses.

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Sep 5, 2014

Sep 5, 2014 at 5:21 AM UTC

not-nick

Blame Your Teachers (hip glasses)

It's not cute, I don't find it funny. The lack of concern for education, And your glasses aren't cute either. I'm growing quite tired of the lame leaders. Expectation to teach the future generation. The warriors, in a future of unknowing, By the ignorant, traditionalist. And I could sit here all day, Catching glints of light off your hip glasses. Peppered with egocentric, infantile remarks. So cute The lack of education So cute The lack of nutrition So cute The false profits; the obtuse teachers So cute Your hip glasses.

19

Some girls just like something very traditional. does that make them any less of a woman. can a woman be a traditionalist and still be a feminist? I think so. I think that what we shared in that time was exactly what we wanted, to fall back into structured and secure roles, because we'd been through the centrifuge lately. And that may not have been who the both of us were at heart, but it worked to heal us, to make us both better for the future, and most importantly, less cynical. I think that what is most feminist about any relationship is the ability to choose. I've been in relationships where I'm the dominant one, and others where I'm not. It takes the ability to check your own self and being a pragmatist, because if you love someone you will change for them. You won't change your personality, but you'll change the way you approach a relationship if you care about them enough. I think that's what feminism boils down to. Allowing both partners to choose their roles in the relationship instead of having them chosen for them. So, **** it, my girl wants to be Susie Homemaker; that's her choice and I lay my head on that.

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Jan 28, 2012

Jan 28, 2012 at 8:31 PM UTC

Waverly

Feminism.

Some girls just like something very traditional. does that make them any less of a woman. can a woman be a traditionalist and still be a feminist? I think so. I think that what we shared in that time was exactly what we wanted, to fall back into structured and secure roles, because we'd been through the centrifuge lately. And that may not have been who the both of us were at heart, but it worked to heal us, to make us both better for the future, and most importantly, less cynical. I think that what is most feminist about any relationship is the ability to choose. I've been in relationships where I'm the dominant one, and others where I'm not. It takes the ability to check your own self and being a pragmatist, because if you love someone you will change for them. You won't change your personality, but you'll change the way you approach a relationship if you care about them enough. I think that's what feminism boils down to. Allowing both partners to choose their roles in the relationship instead of having them chosen for them. So, **** it, my girl wants to be Susie Homemaker; that's her choice and I lay my head on that.

1

"It's not proper poetry if it doesn't rhyme" **** you.

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Nov 2, 2014

Nov 2, 2014 at 8:00 PM UTC

kierawritesstuff

The Enigma of a Traditionalist Mindset - a Ten Word Poem

"It's not proper poetry if it doesn't rhyme" **** you.

2

I am not a traditionalist; I believe newness makes more sense. So I make it up as I go along, and my footfalls make a sort of song rending silence till sunlight appears And dew spreads like the sweet earth's tears. Some stories are written, some left untold; I'll write my own, before I get old. There comes a fork in the road; decide- I take whichever one feels right inside. When you have no destination, any path is fine. Some think that's a negative; I think it's sublime. We put too many expectations, constraints on ourselves. It's not good to worry; it's bad for your health. Sometimes I wonder if human life is so short because we spend it anxious about the hours we hoard. That which you hold closest will slip through your grasp, and our lives are so fragile, brittle as glass. It's better to wander this world without direction; let things come to you-and stop chasing perfection.

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Jun 13, 2013

Jun 13, 2013 at 12:31 PM UTC

rob-m

Directionless

I am not a traditionalist; I believe newness makes more sense. So I make it up as I go along, and my footfalls make a sort of song rending silence till sunlight appears And dew spreads like the sweet earth's tears. Some stories are written, some left untold; I'll write my own, before I get old. There comes a fork in the road; decide- I take whichever one feels right inside. When you have no destination, any path is fine. Some think that's a negative; I think it's sublime. We put too many expectations, constraints on ourselves. It's not good to worry; it's bad for your health. Sometimes I wonder if human life is so short because we spend it anxious about the hours we hoard. That which you hold closest will slip through your grasp, and our lives are so fragile, brittle as glass. It's better to wander this world without direction; let things come to you-and stop chasing perfection.

20

You oppressed, egotistical , ignorant, uneducated , biased self Living in the box of conformity I want to stitch your tongue on the roof of your mouth to silence you I refuse to coincide to everyday traditionalist events I won’t be a victim of someone’s else’s mistake Hostilities and intimidation it polluted you ***** little mind There is nothing unique about conventional clothes Poverty ridden the abyss makes me rage Dreaded emaciated void that overflows with pain No one is thriving but this phantom pain that you feel is real Bleak and suddenly ill I want to choke out the interior of your shame Gelatinous core swallows you whole While you wear your American mask This is your wasteland , desolate as your character It interrupts with clatter as it fractures the earth Covering you with splinters of despair

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Oct 18, 2012

Oct 18, 2012 at 11:36 PM UTC

flawless-contradictions-1

American Mask

You oppressed, egotistical , ignorant, uneducated , biased self Living in the box of conformity I want to stitch your tongue on the roof of your mouth to silence you I refuse to coincide to everyday traditionalist events I won’t be a victim of someone’s else’s mistake Hostilities and intimidation it polluted you ***** little mind There is nothing unique about conventional clothes Poverty ridden the abyss makes me rage Dreaded emaciated void that overflows with pain No one is thriving but this phantom pain that you feel is real Bleak and suddenly ill I want to choke out the interior of your shame Gelatinous core swallows you whole While you wear your American mask This is your wasteland , desolate as your character It interrupts with clatter as it fractures the earth Covering you with splinters of despair

17

what do you say in a traditional wedding toast? I’m not a traditionalist I’m a poet I’m not too good at structured, sentimental texts i speak in chopped verses so here’s my non-traditional, non-structured, sentimental wedding toast in verse my memories flash and fade quickly like lights flicker on and off i'm toddling around the house right behind you where are you going? can i come too? i'm barefoot in the driveway washing your car you took pictures, no doubt laughing at the streaks we left on the windows because, shortness i'm sitting on the bus rifling through your purse like the nosy little kid I am you're chaperoning one of my school field trips one of the aids asks if you're my mother you chuckle and say "nope, i'm her sister" i roll my eyes because isn't it obvious we're sisters? okay, it wasn't obvious we're sisters i'm bouncing down the hallway to your room stopping suddenly at the sight of packing boxes college you're leaving me "we'll be okay" you said i believed you even though i could have sworn i was losing my sister to the big city for good we wrote letters we skyped we emailed and i called you so many times we were okay fifth grade, you bring a guy home but not just any guy i think we all knew this one was different i saw it in your eyes i was only 11 but i knew what love looked like b, you always told me i was the wind beneath your wings you can't break the bond of sisterhood you just can't but maybe the bonds will loosen i thank you for the memories they were fantastic and i'm looking forward to seeing what the future has in store for us i'm thinking babies would be nice In time... so my dear sister, tell me how married life is i hope this night was everything you always dreamed of nick, you've got to be the happiest guy in the world right now i'm only 16 but i know what love looks like it looks like his gaze on her glowing beauty it looks like a promise of forevers proclaimed in front of loved ones it looks like my sister finding her other half and my brother in law finding his. -rgp

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Sep 20, 2014

Sep 20, 2014 at 7:26 PM UTC

raingirlpoet

an unorthadox wedding toast

what do you say in a traditional wedding toast? I’m not a traditionalist I’m a poet I’m not too good at structured, sentimental texts i speak in chopped verses so here’s my non-traditional, non-structured, sentimental wedding toast in verse my memories flash and fade quickly like lights flicker on and off i'm toddling around the house right behind you where are you going? can i come too? i'm barefoot in the driveway washing your car you took pictures, no doubt laughing at the streaks we left on the windows because, shortness i'm sitting on the bus rifling through your purse like the nosy little kid I am you're chaperoning one of my school field trips one of the aids asks if you're my mother you chuckle and say "nope, i'm her sister" i roll my eyes because isn't it obvious we're sisters? okay, it wasn't obvious we're sisters i'm bouncing down the hallway to your room stopping suddenly at the sight of packing boxes college you're leaving me "we'll be okay" you said i believed you even though i could have sworn i was losing my sister to the big city for good we wrote letters we skyped we emailed and i called you so many times we were okay fifth grade, you bring a guy home but not just any guy i think we all knew this one was different i saw it in your eyes i was only 11 but i knew what love looked like b, you always told me i was the wind beneath your wings you can't break the bond of sisterhood you just can't but maybe the bonds will loosen i thank you for the memories they were fantastic and i'm looking forward to seeing what the future has in store for us i'm thinking babies would be nice In time... so my dear sister, tell me how married life is i hope this night was everything you always dreamed of nick, you've got to be the happiest guy in the world right now i'm only 16 but i know what love looks like it looks like his gaze on her glowing beauty it looks like a promise of forevers proclaimed in front of loved ones it looks like my sister finding her other half and my brother in law finding his. -rgp

60

*because what's actually worth celebrating? well, i always celebrate another bunch of words, another litre of *** and, most obviously: another tomorrow.* for a long time now i have seized to celebrate birthdays... only this year have i stopped "celebrating" easter: coming from a traditionalist family, with my great-grandmother dead for several years everyone in the family joked: she said enough prayers for all of us... my great-grandfather took the micky out her in that lovingly joking way anyway he used to say: you and your crows (priests, that's the slang term for a priest in poland) - i can't remember the last time i celebrated christmas, or should it be called: adverts from november through to january marketing mecca "holiday"? but it breaks my heart with regards to birthdays, i don't celebrate it - fair enough up to 25... but a bit like receiving voting rights, i think people have the potential to relinquish their celebration of something that's cake-worthy once the teenage years end... nonetheless... on the dot, i receive the phone call on the day... my grandparents... wishing me this that & the other... and... that's it! it's actually more painful to receive that phonecall, than to receive: no phonecall with besh wishes and what not. i grew out the candles, the balloons... what is to be celebrated, may i ask? as the cliche says: women lie about their age anyway, if they found a way to avoid the celebratory antics - me? i'm just waiting for my grandparents to die... cruel, i know, but it's much more cruel to receive a phonecall from them, "wishing" me a happy birthday... day like any one... now, if i remembered squeezing past the genital skin of my mother... that would be something... thankfully, man's faculty of memory and therefore being conscious comes much much later, thank god for that.

0

Aug 13, 2017

Aug 13, 2017 at 6:11 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

it breaks the heart

*because what's actually worth celebrating? well, i always celebrate another bunch of words, another litre of *** and, most obviously: another tomorrow.* for a long time now i have seized to celebrate birthdays... only this year have i stopped "celebrating" easter: coming from a traditionalist family, with my great-grandmother dead for several years everyone in the family joked: she said enough prayers for all of us... my great-grandfather took the micky out her in that lovingly joking way anyway he used to say: you and your crows (priests, that's the slang term for a priest in poland) - i can't remember the last time i celebrated christmas, or should it be called: adverts from november through to january marketing mecca "holiday"? but it breaks my heart with regards to birthdays, i don't celebrate it - fair enough up to 25... but a bit like receiving voting rights, i think people have the potential to relinquish their celebration of something that's cake-worthy once the teenage years end... nonetheless... on the dot, i receive the phone call on the day... my grandparents... wishing me this that & the other... and... that's it! it's actually more painful to receive that phonecall, than to receive: no phonecall with besh wishes and what not. i grew out the candles, the balloons... what is to be celebrated, may i ask? as the cliche says: women lie about their age anyway, if they found a way to avoid the celebratory antics - me? i'm just waiting for my grandparents to die... cruel, i know, but it's much more cruel to receive a phonecall from them, "wishing" me a happy birthday... day like any one... now, if i remembered squeezing past the genital skin of my mother... that would be something... thankfully, man's faculty of memory and therefore being conscious comes much much later, thank god for that.

68

Take me by the hips- I’ll devour your lies like the spit on my lips. Thumbs pressing into my collar bones- I’ll be your throne. I starve myself for you to fill me This infatuation will **** me. Nose ****** Am I your honey? Text me once a week- This only means something to me. We’re a one sided thing But you’re the centerpiece of my dreams; The consummation of my demons. I've noticed your scheming smile but I haven’t felt so Hopelessly enraptured in a while. Destroy me, Please Don’t mind my scabby knees. I have a habit of falling In and out of logic But You aren't a project No not someone I want to fix- That bag of rocks Is just a box of tricks. You’re a train and I'm sitting on your tracks It’s just a count down until we smash into oblivion Aphrodite, I’m your Gideon. We aren't apart of the same story But mines 16th century, And the glory has faded into the pages from decades of irrelevant stages. . I hopped across bindings And stereotypical findings Because maybe You’re meant for me. Maybe I’m pushing too hard but Our histories are intertwining and the mysteries you decided To pick apart; Well they’re coming back to haunt you. We collided over a fire And an irregular heart beat set by amphetamines; You don’t know what you did to me. Fever dreams when the fan is on low Vacant thoughts make the hours hollow You’re alive, I know it but you only surface for me When you want to see how quickly I’ll come Eat out your hand you extend so Selectively. I shouldn't feel so honored that you've chosen me But those eyes, God those eyes. I can’t stop swimming through them when I close mine. I can see galaxies spinning in your pupils as The sunrise begs to begin, But noon will come and I’m buried in Your possibilities So effortlessly imagined; So impossibly enacted. You distract me from reality. You are the thing that will never be. You’re toxic- A poison. A deadly, Delicious treat. I’m voracious for the heat of your breath On my neck once again. Fingers on my chin- Tilt it until our eyes align. What a disastrous lie- I’d die for you, spy.

0

Nov 30, 2014

Nov 30, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC

rynmccall

Traditionalist

Take me by the hips- I’ll devour your lies like the spit on my lips. Thumbs pressing into my collar bones- I’ll be your throne. I starve myself for you to fill me This infatuation will **** me. Nose ****** Am I your honey? Text me once a week- This only means something to me. We’re a one sided thing But you’re the centerpiece of my dreams; The consummation of my demons. I've noticed your scheming smile but I haven’t felt so Hopelessly enraptured in a while. Destroy me, Please Don’t mind my scabby knees. I have a habit of falling In and out of logic But You aren't a project No not someone I want to fix- That bag of rocks Is just a box of tricks. You’re a train and I'm sitting on your tracks It’s just a count down until we smash into oblivion Aphrodite, I’m your Gideon. We aren't apart of the same story But mines 16th century, And the glory has faded into the pages from decades of irrelevant stages. . I hopped across bindings And stereotypical findings Because maybe You’re meant for me. Maybe I’m pushing too hard but Our histories are intertwining and the mysteries you decided To pick apart; Well they’re coming back to haunt you. We collided over a fire And an irregular heart beat set by amphetamines; You don’t know what you did to me. Fever dreams when the fan is on low Vacant thoughts make the hours hollow You’re alive, I know it but you only surface for me When you want to see how quickly I’ll come Eat out your hand you extend so Selectively. I shouldn't feel so honored that you've chosen me But those eyes, God those eyes. I can’t stop swimming through them when I close mine. I can see galaxies spinning in your pupils as The sunrise begs to begin, But noon will come and I’m buried in Your possibilities So effortlessly imagined; So impossibly enacted. You distract me from reality. You are the thing that will never be. You’re toxic- A poison. A deadly, Delicious treat. I’m voracious for the heat of your breath On my neck once again. Fingers on my chin- Tilt it until our eyes align. What a disastrous lie- I’d die for you, spy.

79

Makes a house a Home Woman, Wife Mother, for Life Greatest of all LOVE Inspired songs; 1) Let It.Be By The Beatles “Let it be” is an universally relatable message Many interpreted as the warmth and peace of unconditional love from a mother. 2) You’ll Be In My Heart (mother) By Phil Collins 3) Song For Mam By Boyz II Men Free Verse /Modern Haiku A modern haiku, like their traditional counterpart are short, focused on a single, a vocative moment or experience. They often use strong imagery to create an impression on the reader. While the 5 – 7– 5 syllable structure is often considered a starting point for traditional haiku modern haiku, poets are often experimenting with different line lengths and syllable counts. According to the haiku foundation and the poetry foundation. Traditional haiku have to do in nature.. While other types deal with human nature. It can be confusing, identifying the different types of haiku without, The poet. Haiku is a wonderful expression of poetry. English haiku differs from Japanese haiku as the language gives a different syllable count. I call this poem a modern haiku in that it is using the theme of human frailty instead of nature, even given the option of a different line syllable length as a traditionalist fundamental structure should not be altered. Three lines syllable count 5-7-5

0

May 8, 2025

May 8, 2025 at 9:10 AM UTC

cj-sutherland

Mother

Makes a house a Home Woman, Wife Mother, for Life Greatest of all LOVE Inspired songs; 1) Let It.Be By The Beatles “Let it be” is an universally relatable message Many interpreted as the warmth and peace of unconditional love from a mother. 2) You’ll Be In My Heart (mother) By Phil Collins 3) Song For Mam By Boyz II Men Free Verse /Modern Haiku A modern haiku, like their traditional counterpart are short, focused on a single, a vocative moment or experience. They often use strong imagery to create an impression on the reader. While the 5 – 7– 5 syllable structure is often considered a starting point for traditional haiku modern haiku, poets are often experimenting with different line lengths and syllable counts. According to the haiku foundation and the poetry foundation. Traditional haiku have to do in nature.. While other types deal with human nature. It can be confusing, identifying the different types of haiku without, The poet. Haiku is a wonderful expression of poetry. English haiku differs from Japanese haiku as the language gives a different syllable count. I call this poem a modern haiku in that it is using the theme of human frailty instead of nature, even given the option of a different line syllable length as a traditionalist fundamental structure should not be altered. Three lines syllable count 5-7-5

25