"unappreciative" poems
bat-tastic lung
collapse
fragrant raspberry
leaves
gas exchange gone
wrong
little sailor
slivered ocean
reverse gravitational
sinking into
blackened angler doom
new age
humanitarian
loves others
loves discovering
new
truths
loves
plummeting through spaded
blinds
insanely unappreciative
red
the new harvest
the magician blinking
the the sky
imagination finally
makes
sense
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
this life is taken for granted
with harsh words and
heavy hearts of unforgiveness,
unappreciative thank yous
and too many
i love yous
left unsaid.
and we never really realize.
too many of us
never
really
realize.
Apr 30, 2011
Apr 30, 2011 at 12:52 PM UTC
Not a day goes by anymore where I don't
curse this volatile world for bringing me into it.
I'm angry.
I'm Sad.
I hate everything.
I'm a coward.
And I hate God and all religion.
I'm just an infantile complain-ee who can't seem to feel anything except hate and anger.
I'm over the death and the sadness and the violence of this iniquitous, depraved place we humans call Home.
Everyday, I wake up to the anger in my burning, nauseous stomach and wonder why I have to be such a coward.
Sometimes life is great but then I'm reminded that life involuntarily defecates on everything that matters even a little bit.
I used to pray to your so called God for help
Because it was what one of my friends would have done.
But now I see that even in her time of need, He was gone.
The devout little Christian girl that Christ didn't want to save simply because it would require work.
There is no hope for this manic, putrid planet.
I'm done being nice and pretending that I'm a good person.
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 7:14 PM UTC
there are vanilla scented candles
and plaid scarves,
acrylic paints of every ******* colour
and wool socks,
a closet full of pretty dresses
and a bookshelf full of good reads
but I’m not happy
there is laughing
there is smiling
there is feeling good
sometimes
but I’m so unsatisfied
with what I’ve got
though I seem to have just about
everything
I have a good mother
I have friends that care
I have blankets
I have good teeth
I have rubber boots
some people say I have nice legs
I have compassion
I have the drive to create
I have trees
I have long hair
some people say I have kindness
I have a bus pass
I have a new job
I have flexibility
I have enough money
some people say I have talent
but I’m unappreciative
and hard on myself
still
there are booked gigs
and improv shows,
interesting conversations
and instruments,
trees and leaves and twigs
and pinecones,
the sky,
the zoo,
the cafes
but I get insecure most of the time
there are long hot baths
and biting nails,
then painting nails,
then repainting nails
and biding time,
then hating time,
then being okay with time,
there are long stares in the mirror
sometimes glares
sometimes there are puffy eyes
there is frustration
in my fingers
in my head
in my voice
at the piano
on stage
being vulnerable in a crowd of cool actors and musicians
fear of being seen
fear of being unseen
fear of doing it WRONG
fear of looking stupid
looking ugly
looking pathetic
sounding stupid
sounding ugly
sounding pathetic
there are dreams of leaving
this city
this head
these people I have known
for what seems like forever
there are dreams of healing
and loving my skin
and the natural amount of fat
that is underneath it
there are dreams out there
there are so many of them
that I’m afraid to wish
that I’m afraid to think of
from caution of them not happening
from caution of disappointment
and loneliness
and neediness,
then purposelessness
there is wanting
and wanting
and wanting
something better
I don’t know what
just something better
but waiting
and waiting
and waiting
for it to come to me
instead of
trying
and going
and getting
it myself
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 4:30 AM UTC
Throwing Away The gift.. {Poem}
Love this wealthy intangible invisible gift.
Yet you hide it deny it seek to do away with it.
Toss it in the trash like a disposable rag dirtied with stains of, I don't believe this gift.
I don't have time in my life right now for this gift.
The stains of Unappreciative feelings for this gift.
Ignoring the prize of the infancy the baby in this gift.
The newness of life in this gift.
Like a deadened zombie with no feelings at all to recognize the gift.
How can you throw away the richness of such a gift.
The desire to grow with you grow in you, be nurtured by you of in this gift.
There's innocent of life in the gift.
The failure to protect the power of this gift.
You dropped it away like disposable trash, Millions of uncountable blessings in the possibilities of a freely given precious value of soul..
You need love for the shattered Soul.. Will you Throw the baby out with the bath water.
It's trying to Rescue the hearts that walk away from these gifts...
Blinded hearts wounded spirits. Deaf ears that can't hear it, can't feel it.
Can't savor the love of gifts...Stop and try to feel and believe this gift.
Gifts of hearts, Gifts of souls, nonjudgmental.. Precious Gifts to behold.
This is a GIFT!
Selinasharday_H.E.R/Poetry 2020-4-12
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 7:40 PM UTC
to those who claim to be bored
with everyone
they
surround
themselves with,
know you are
a:
flake,
a speck,
unappreciative ****
a selfish-
poor friend,
greedy and
self absorbed,
and you,
yourself
are too
very very
boring.
more so.
because
a.
you lack
imagination
b.
you are predictable
on presumption
such claim is a self fulfilled destiny.
we focus on hypocrisy
and fail to see the hilarity.
laugh.
Aug 11, 2012
Aug 11, 2012 at 3:36 AM UTC
You are unappreciative,
and the moon is sick of shining
for you. The stars are crying,
now. See what you've done?
Sep 9, 2010
Sep 9, 2010 at 1:33 PM UTC
There was a time...
The first rhyme
You ever read to me
That time when I,
Once unappreciative,
But that night...
Fell in love with it.
You recited your hurt like art,
A delicate voice,
But with trembling heart.
During those early days of early love.
I always wanted to read along as you read aloud.
And I would've died to be the page you'd slaved upon.
Tears, blood, passion unrivaled like a daring dawn
That fights the night till the day is gone.
Perhaps it was to feel connected to you,
But I began to write my stories too.
I threaded them together painstakingly,
Usually in the lonesome limbos I felt achingly,
Anxiously,
And it took so long to share myself with you.
Did you know you were the first to ever see them?
You always thought I was beautiful.
Once again, you encouraged the fire free.
And this isn't the only sea
You've taught me to sail.
Now I place my work here
With the sheer raw emotion I so dearly make clear.
It is one of the few things I've made mine.
I never said I had talent, but at least I can rhyme!
And now?
Now I write for me.
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 10:24 PM UTC
I worry you will fall
As you teeter up on top of your insecurities
Stamping them with your materialism
"PRADA"
Attempting to hide them below your feet and beneath your masks of paint
Attempting to keep them out of frame, out of the photos, out of view,
But the photographs were over-exposed
And now your nakedness is only covered by your self-doubt
Your lack of self-worth.
Don't try to hide the tears you cry out of unappreciative sadness
No need to validate happiness
With crest whitening strips
Because all they do is stain your already filthy mouth.
Bleach couldn't wash the ignorance from those gums.
Your cavities sloshed with your parents Chardonnay
and chocolate fountains drip upon your white dresses.
I try so hard to remain kind
Remain happy
Remain real
When all I can do is laugh
And hope you understand
That all I am is sad.
There is only sadness
When the best view that I have
Is of your huge fake ****
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 9:31 AM UTC
I shy away from the ridiculous
I take another form
One more serious
I despise the closed eyes
Laughing while others cry
A typical way of ignoring the distant
I am not opposed to happiness or joy
I am opposed to actions that work against the freedoms we enjoy
The unappreciative mentality of ‘don’t live there, don’t care”
While we donate once a year, post it on facebook and say:
“Look at me, here, here, here”
We donate a day of our lives every year
To remove our guilt
for a two hour show on tv
That we don’t watch to watch anyway
Pathetic
That’s what I say!
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 4:02 PM UTC
*A little more than misunderstood
For the most-part
Of her life,
A magnet
For destruction,
Unavoidable,
Was all sorts of strife.
Made of best intentions,
A valuable, fine jewel;
Priceless and rare,
Kindness was the fluid
running through her veins;
Her heart was only capable
Of empathising,
It couldn't help
But to care.
A wounded healer,
Strong enough to know
That her pain was never in vain,
Her experiences came with lessons,
A gift she offered with pride,
Not with shame.
There weren't many
Trials or tribulations
that she didn't overcome,
She was always
A little miss understood,
A little warrior,
A champion,
Second to none!
In all of her downfalls
She was still ever grateful,
Never was she guilty
Of being unappreciative
Or resentful, whilst in pain,
As hard as it ever got,
She didn't stop to count
The numerous falls,
Or blows that she received;
She just kept on getting up
Again,
And again,
And again.
By Lady R.F. (C)2017*
Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 6:50 AM UTC
Homeless old beggar Elderly, destitute man in serious need
disgusting and annoying really down and out, desperate
degrades the neighborhood probably feels safe around here
aggressively accosts me approaches me hopefully
thinks I'm an easy touch believes he can count on me
unappreciative...always wants more honest and humble about his needs
likely spends it on ***** and cigarettes maybe I'll bring him food next time
Takes advantage of my good nature Fortunate that I'm in a position to help
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 1:07 PM UTC
"Don't you feel flattered?"
she inquired, confused --
in more ways than one,
though she didn't know it.
*"People compliment you,
and you are so unappreciative."*
That is what she told me,
believing I needed a scolding.
Maybe I'm just tired of
people only caring about
how 'nice' my *** looks;
maybe I want more to matter.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC
Without a grasp on reality
I stumble through your norms
Breezing through your fantasies
and feeding your indignant storms
You breathe and break my bones
With your heavy expectations
You're wrong
Yet, maybe my mind has slipped
and fallen beneath the waves
They finally came to shake my bones
I rode them out with no delay
Now, up is down and down is left
The world is lonely and ugly like
this bitter, unappreciative song
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 10:57 AM UTC
What will become of me?
or better yet, what could have become of me?
At times, I stare out at the world
from screened and barred windows
contemplating alternate futures for myself.
The “what-if’s” and “could have been’s” taunt me,
causing me to flirt with the idea
of things being different.
___
I seem to forget what actually is,
unappreciative of what actually has become of me,
of what I have already become,
overlooking the things I’ve done right.
___
It’s time I changed focus.
Transfix upon the ever-changing present,
not concentrating on what never was,
and no longer entertaining worries of what will be,
or what will not.
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
I look back on minutes that
drag on- and yet months
have seemed to escape.
Clawing hands of time, I beg
for those moments
back in mine.
I have searched for every last
bit of warmth I could find,
groping the bed for some
tangible piece of this
disaster you left.
Every breath of cold stings just
to remind me that I am alive.
The sun warms my face
the cold splits my skin into
shards that fall to the ground
and effortlessly blend in
with the glinting snow that
has been wintry blanket over
the nuances of my soul.
There isn't a single word to
be said- the silent struggle will never
be heard by deaf, unappreciative ears.
Every passionate heat I’ve ever known,
killed by ice you left coursing through my organs.
If you’d even look my way-
you could watch my vibrant blue veins
running up and down my skin coated skeleton.
Time lingers on and
words are always left unsaid.
I distract myself with
the coming of seasons,
but I cannot part with warm
memories of our time.
My muscles once swam so graceful under
my skin, but now they are rigid and
stiff with the winter’s freeze.
I haven’t closed my eyes to you just yet.
I could still see all of the things
that I should have said floating to
the ground between us. Silent flurries
of words built up behind my eyelids,
I refused to let them melt and
well out as tears.
I couldn't let you get to me like that.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC
"You are so unappreciative of what you have"
She screams at me as I lay in a bunk bed
My mattress is from 1982
With my feet dangling over the side
And my soleless shoes lay dead on the floor
My blanket filled with holes
My closet with my clothes from last year all over the floor
All hand-me-downs
My Christmas list half filled
The two presents I really did need
Never came
And not once did I beg for anything more
Little does she know that the school kids
Have a king temperpedic matress
Their five pairs of shoes wore once underneath
Their wool blankets to keep warm
Bran new year brand new clothes
Hand-me-downs I think no
Their Christmas list complete and more
With presents they did not use or care for
And all I can hear from them is more more more
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
Im living in a world where bad is some how good,
A world that has me confuse and misunderstood.
Im living in a world where a joke shouldn't be played,
but the serious is taking for granted as it don't belong today.
America can be a spy for which it already is,
to sit back and transform to something unappreciative.
Day by day I live a life to no ones expense,
but find out I need to just to make sense.
So to all those people out there who are just walkin through a twirl,
thats the life for living in a world.
Oct 28, 2009
Oct 28, 2009 at 5:37 PM UTC
I shut off my power and my phone in an attempt to recalibrate, which is why I haven’t been posting lately. I go for a two hour walk everyday after work, talk to weird people, as well as make friends with stray animals before going home and playing my guitar until sundown. I light some candles and sit next to my open window and read until the Coast2Coast show comes on my crank radio and I listen until I fall asleep. The cold shower in the morning takes some serious ***** but after defeating the cold shower I have noticed my productivity at work sky rockets, as nothing that I will face through out my day will require the will power that is required in facing cold water submersion first thing in the morning. I have been writing the old school way with a silver Cross pen in a sketch book my mother had bought me for my 18th birthday, and boy have I forgotten what a pain it is to do edits with pen and paper.
I was growing bitter, self destructive, and unappreciative, and I figure I needed to hit rock bottom to appreciate the little things again. Thus far it is working, and I am only two weeks in. I am shooting for October 1st before I turn the power on. The phone may come sooner, as my boss is ******** I am attempting to build my body, mind and spirit as a result of my looming feelings of forlorn that have been pressing in on me in an almost shout that I have mostly ignored the past couple of years, but the time of putting my instincts aside has ended. My ear is to the ground and my eyes are to the sky and once I am full of what these fill me with, I will speak of what I have found. Be well friends, and see you soon.
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
You wonder how long that
White-haired man has been
Making waffles to give to other people.
You wonder how long the other
Has been slicing ham under
That immeasurably hot, metal light for;
Only to pass the pieces out to
Children who may just throw them away.
You wonder how long their
Hair has been white.
You wonder when
Yours will be.
You think that –
When I am eighty,
I sure as Hell will not be
Serving food to
Unappreciative
Strangers.
But, maybe,
That white-haired man gets up
Two extra minutes early on the
First Sunday of each month,
Probably alone,
To make the same waffles for the
Same people as last month.
And the man whose
Fingers don’t even shake as he
Slices your ham and
Tells you a joke at the same time
Might even be happy to
See the same people as last month,
Yes,
he definitely is.
Those men made more than
One child smile this morning.
And even though it’s
Easter Sunday, and that child
Probably doesn’t understand what that means,
Well, neither do I.
But I imagine it resembles something like this.
White haired men
Serving waffles and
Ham,
Telling jokes,
Not much different from
Last Sunday.
Not much different at all.
Oct 26, 2011
Oct 26, 2011 at 3:26 PM UTC
You are always there for everyone else, you sit back in the shadows to make sure that they dont fall,
You love with all your heart and you never give up on your famliy, no matter how much tyhey mess up,
You make sure they have what they want, what they need, yet you will do without what you need as long as they are happy, but its time that you come out of the shadows and finnaly get what you deserve.
All the love and respect that should come with your great gift should not just be shown on a certain day or a certain time of the year.
The only time that people show they care is when they want something from you, when they thing they are in trouble or when they are trying to cover up what they did wrong.
Most of them know you care yet do nothing for you, while some try there hardest to make you happy yet still find ways to disappoint you, to hurt you, and to make you feel unwanted.
You know they love you but sometimes you wonder if they love you just for what they think you have or what you give them, or even if they really love you at all.
Sometimes they will say it but not mean it and other times they mean it but dont say it.
They are your family who you would give anything for, but you are the one that matters all the time.
No matter how hard or not you try they will always love you and so therefore even though they may use you or even act like they dont care about you at all they really do love you and all they do for them.
This time you deserve more then they can ever give you and nothing they do will ever be enough.
They will try to make things up to you but they can never measure up to what a great person you are or the things you have done.
NO one will ever compare to you, and NO one will ever take you away.
You are always there for them and they will always be there for you no matter how old they get or how much you think they don't want you around, and also they will never forget what you have done and will do for them, even if they seem unappreciative, they will make it up to you in time.
THEY LOVE YOU VERY MUCH AND NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU UPSET.
Dec 24, 2010
Dec 24, 2010 at 8:42 AM UTC
Quite accustomed to misery and pain,
and in agony -
I ruin anything good,
it seems.
I don't know how to handle happiness.
It overwhelms me with its untimely visits.
Its stay, always short -
and our goodbyes bring me to my knees,
begging for it to stay.
So accustomed to melancholy -
and crying to sleep;
so spoiled with feelings of worthlessness -
I'm unappreciative of anything good,
it seems.
I don't know how to handle a genuine love.
It overwhelms me with its joyful sensation.
Its pleasure, the heart scorching romance;
and I, in my misery and pain,
and on my knees -
hoping for it to stay.
Quite accustomed to loneliness,
and emptiness -
I ruin anything good,
it seems.
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 1:41 PM UTC
Just when I said to myself.
I would never open my heart to anyone else.
Here I Go.
Down that road again.
As usual I state love isn't worth it.
Because it seems like so much trouble.
To give and give.
And just feel used.
Or unappreciative.
But here I go.
Down that path again to love.
I have seen my mistakes and learned.
But many times when comfortable and at eased,
That's when I get burned.
How much does love cost?
Cause I'm just lost to understand the price.
When it seems so free.
To have someone saying they love me.
Jun 24, 2012
Jun 24, 2012 at 10:07 PM UTC