"unfriendly" poems
In my shyness . . .
At times I retreat to my "shell,"
Clinging to the security of being alone.
In my shyness . . .
I may attempt to merge with my surroundings--
To be ignored, unnoticed, a silent voice rarely heard.
In my shyness . . .
I can feel completely alone,
Although surrounded by people.
In my shyness . . .
I'm perceived as having a padlocked soul--
And few try to gain entry into my realm.
In my shyness . . .
Few will dare venture to really know me--
To hear my quiet voice or to really try to understand.
In my shyness . . .
I can have a myriad of words to say,
Yet, my sealed lips will not release them.
In my shyness . . .
The words I do speak will at times be jumbled,
And I'll feel worse for having spoken them.
In my shyness . . .
I will be viewed as "stuck up" and unfriendly,
Labeled by the presumption of a troubled past.
Yet, despite my shyness . . .
I will at times emerge from my "shell,"
And you may catch a glimpse of who I am.
And despite my shyness . . .
I may put on a good "front,"
Disguising my innermost insecurities.
Despite my shyness . . .
A select few will manage to penetrate these "walls,"
With the sharing of time and the evolving of trust.
My shyness . . .
Frequently unrecognized, seldom understood--
A shackle, a haven, a veil.
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 3:18 AM UTC
Speech after long silence; it is right,
All other lovers being estranged or dead,
Unfriendly lamplight hid under its shade,
The curtains drawn upon unfriendly night,
That we descant and yet again descant
Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song:
****** decrepitude is wisdom; young
We loved each other and were ignorant.
8.9k
A Friday night of imbued strangers
Streets full of all walks of people
Mostly staggered and tipsy
Haggered and narrow minded
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping alcohol inside their veins
A Friday night of rejection and temptation
I couldn't give my cash to enter a joint
Thoroughly rejecting a norm construct
Unhumbled and judgmental
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping alcohol inside their veins
A Friday night of inspiration and joy
Where I saw a mirror of myself on the streets
Vagabound souls sat begging for a today
Justice and truth prevails
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping alcohol inside their veins
A Friday night of me sat on the ground
At the entrance of a busy closed shop
Begging for the homeless soul as people sneer
The abuse and hate ejected
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping alcohol inside their veins
A Friday night of broken promises
When all they do is try to have ******
People set traps of unfriendly gesture
The rotten and pompous society
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping alcohol inside their veins
A Friday night of me wooing the drunk
Melodious symphony of "change please"
Negativity beakers but we made money baibe
A reflection of minimalism
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping alcohol inside their veins
A Friday night of concluded perception
Their souls touched me, they can go back a time
They try but have no strength within
Sour love was the wound that brought them hassle
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping alcohol inside their veins
It's not a Friday night anymore, the dawn smiles
I have a warm home and access to facilities
They have no options and crack is their hope
Police huddles and societal direct abuse
As they sing a song for strangers to listen
For your smile and talk can be the only hope they got
Jun 25, 2016
Jun 25, 2016 at 5:22 AM UTC
There’s a menacing chill
on the air
this evening.
“Had I the wherewithal
I’d leave this place,”
I think to myself
as the first warning is issued
by that unfriendly cloud
hanging low and dark
over the mountain.
While once I thought that
the rain would fall with purpose,
I’ve come to understand
that floodwater has no manifesto
except to place the scumline as high as it can.
We can stack these sandbags tall
around our hearts
without regard for what’s on either side of the dam.
They’re only transient monuments to ineffectiveness anyway.
An assassin stands at the corner
wondering if I’ll ever leave my house
and its warmth.
I have news for him, though…
There’s nowhere to go, and
the weatherman thinks we’ll have a storm.
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 3:49 PM UTC
he walks alone; faking a smile
deep within are pairs of agonies
grief, distraught; but still he smiles
walking down the pavement, he stops
turning around are unfriendly friends
they wave at him; camouflaging a smile
he looks away and continues
He has moved thus far, still no one
he hears the birds chipping; the cats crying and water falling
the queen of the night's flower arouse him; bringing him to a rush of impulse and pleasure, but still he wanders
they have stabbed him twice; his closest pals
they set him up; they slander him behind the scene and still rush to.him with cold hands
he has decided to stay firm; a man of his own- to walk through the valley alone; A Beautiful Loner.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 5:59 AM UTC
A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.
And the camels galled, sorefooted, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
and running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages ***** and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.
Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arriving at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you might say) satisfactory.
All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 11:31 AM UTC
Distant, Detached, Unfriendly, Unapproachable, Unsympathetic, Withdrawn, Antisocial....
I keep my distance for fear of being hurt by those I let my walls down for.
I am detached from worldly possessions because they cause pain when lost.
I am unfriendly due to my inability to smile through the bad times.
I am unapproachable to those with judging eyes.
I am unsympathetic to those that have their needs met.
I am withdrawn so that no one can see my past.
I am antisocial due to my observant nature
I am aloof
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 2:39 AM UTC
I am not pretty
I am not skinny
I am not tall
I do not have a good hair style
I am not smart
I am not funny
I am not cool
I am not the best
I get mad
I get annoyed
I get irritated
I get selfish
I seem unfriendly
I seem bad
I seem like a ****
I seem to be a hater
I am not the best.
But other things I am not are:
I am not selfish
I am not a show off
I am not bad
I am not a ****
I will never leave you
I will never hurt you
I will never judge you
I will never Play with you
I will never Fight you
I will never give up on you
I will always be here
But if you don't appreciate that,
I will take a turn and look for someone else.
I need someone who
does not look at what I am not
I need someone who
looks at what I am.
I need someone who
knows my flaws
I need someone who
fixes them and
I need someone who
Knows who I am and what I am worth.
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 6:52 PM UTC
Krypton didn’t fit with anyone,
as it was the unfriendly one,
it never went beyond it’s limits
even if others did loose their limits.
It was from a forlorn world,
nobody cared to say a word,
to this enigma of another world;
no one wanted to share a word.
The nobles were always preoccupied
with their occupied shells,
they never hung out with the occupied,
nor the unoccupied.
Krypton was mistaken for kryptonite.
It wondered every night,
Why they accused it for the assassination?
it didn’t have the power of absorption.
Krypton had very few of it’s kind,
it didn’t know where they were aligned.
He held the hope of being able to be lined,
with the rest of it’s kind.
Poor Krypton, he was on the farthest
arena of the periodic table
it wished if it could turn the table,
so that it can at least act a bit feeble.
Experience taught this novice,
it calculated the calculations,
to traverse the long distance,
fear hindered the transmissions.
Krypton used to think without links
he was one of the stable nobles,
he wasn’t the one that wobbles
and, one of the table’s baubles.
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 4:36 AM UTC
‘A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.’
And the camels galled, sore-footed,
refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the
terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and
grumbling
And running away, and wanting their
liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the
lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns
unfriendly
And the villages ***** and charging high
prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all
night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears,
saying
That this was all folly.
Then at dawn we came down to a
temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of
vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill
beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped in
away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with
vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for
pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no imformation, and so
we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment
too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say)
satisfactory.
All this was a long time ago, I
remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth,
certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had
seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different;
this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like
Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these
Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old
dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their
gods.
I should be glad of another death.
2.9k
I live my life the way I want
and I don't care what others think or chant.
Accept me or reject me.
I am shy, I am humble and I am kind,
but harsh and blunt may my enemies find.
Accept me or reject me.
Many call me bigot and fanatic for passion I show towards my religion
but i don't care, I am ready to defend it in every season and in all condition.
Accept me or reject me.
I am an introvert and live mostly on my own,
that doesn't mean I am unfriendly and to my friends its known and shown.
Accept me or reject me.
I like Dosas, biryani, nehari and chicken fry.
but I am always prepared for salt and roti dry.
Accept me or reject me.
I am no saint, I do mistakes and then I regret,
but I am always ready to forgive and forget.
Accept me or reject me.
I try to speak the truth and sometimes it is very sour
I will continue that way, whether you declare a war, or put me behind bar.
Accept me or reject me.
I keep my distance from disco, cigarette, girls and liquor, that's not my way and that's not my style,
for which my friend's make my fun, but I ignore them all with a smile.
Accept me or reject me.
This is my story and this is my tale
It is for you all, and it is not for sale.
Accept me or reject me.
I love my prophet(pbuh) and I love Allah,
I am Muhammad Asadullah.
Accept me or reject me.
Accept me or reject me.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC
Sometime today...
*I look up at the sky
It is cloudy and dark
Flickers of lightning
And growling of thunder
Threatening the day's work
With uninvited wet showers
Bad for business, these rains
Keeping our customers indoors
Filling our potholes to the brim
Drenching our zeal to work
I look, as the drops fall down
In their multitudes
Clattering against my window
Bearing down on my roof
Intent on washing away my hopes
I miss the sunshine and its rays
I miss the warmth of sunrise
I miss the comfort of sunset
And with all my heart
I loathe the rain
Yearning for the sun
Soon a remembrance is awaken.*
Somewhere in the past...
*I looked up at the sky
It was sunny and dry
Debris of dusty winds
And a hot tempered sun
Worsening the day's labor
With unfriendly heat waves
Bad for farming, this heat!
Keeping our seedlings underground
Drying our boreholes to the bottom
Smoking our will to work
I sweated, as the rays blazed
In their fury
Burning through my window
Melting down my roof
Determined to roast my vision
I missed the rain and its showers
I missed the chills of the storms
I missed the drizzles of dew
And with all my might
I despised the sun
Praying for the rains
As if that would quench my thirst!*
Yet I wish it away as soon as it comes...
© Raphael Uzor
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 2:58 PM UTC
~
*On a clear day
I can see my sister
It's between six and seven o'clock
and a beautiful expanse of water, reflecting her cultivated shores
a nod, a smile,
through the vapor
castles in the air, ruling over
the available light
then in a moment, she's lost
half her height
and bent into arcades, like those
of a Roman aqueduct
evaporate before me she will
the fading of family, a returning
to cold white at the dawning
of an unfriendly expanse*
~
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 10:20 AM UTC
The cold brought the snow
And the snow brought the ice
And the frosty town dwellers
And chilled out urbanites
Thawed out a little
With a raise of the eyes
An exhaled expression
A neighbourly - Y'alright?
A young woman
In unfriendly red
Comes cluttering
And skidding
Around the bend
I look up -
She pushes past
On her way to the station
But I have the last laugh -
It's closed, I almost shout
There's not even a sign
But if she manages to make it on heels
She'll find out in good time
Things move slower in the cold
And with good reason.
Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 7:44 AM UTC
He and she walk alone so young.
So young he and she are.
Without another's tender touch
and tender kisses.
Being without a loving, caring other;
expressions desolved by war.
They're still in the desert
guarding buddies.
They're still in war-torn towns.
So young they are.
Behind every house door lurks
an unseen enemy.
Every crevice in their home-sweet-home,
a hidden device.
Every patch of an American road
hidden IED'S.
Every turn,every corner,every glance,every walk,
Every position, for some, a hand gun hidden in his
or her belt.
So well they learned their craft.
Their home vehicles are now Hummvees.
Their towns are now
the unfriendly and foreign Middle East.
They walk alone,these ANGRY ISLANDS,
unto themselves they are...
RW Dennen
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
Always it does,
But I can't shiver,
Coldest in the river,
Deathly river of tears,
Excruciating is the pain,
Filthy salty water it flows,
Grandiose in society kills me,
Hefty personal problems prey,
I can't swallow so I don't eat any,
****** of ego I turn into since long,
Killed me multiple times in a go daily,
Lovelorn I die each moment I try to cry,
Mouthful of unfriendly words help me die,
Name of mine means incomparable literally,
Ostensible concept of love entices me so much,
Put me in a jail and stuff me behind the bars now,
Quailing me is the loneliness that has been forever,
Ruling out few occasions of company I stay so aloof,
Sparing some days of happiness most are depressing,
Toying with my own heart I feel my heart is hydrogen,
Unattractive it is not & it could not stay segregated ever,
Volumes of my voice have died out & so has my hearing,
Wailing deep in my heart I let this sorrow seep in to sink,
Xenophobic I ain't but of course I dislike enemies of love,
Yucky thoughts of people assassinated my love last night,
Zeroed in on the catalyst -strange enough- she herself is it.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 1:00 AM UTC
I love you more than the moon loves the stars
that it appears every night just to get a glimpse.
I love you more than a bird’s need to soar through the clouds
as if it were meant to glide forever.
I love you more than a baby’s first blanket
as they cling tightly to the seams and never let it out of their sight.
I love you more than a rainbow’s love for colour
that it lets every single one stream through the clouds in perpetual awe.
I love you more than the rain’s passion for the ground
that it risks the detrimental fall just to touch its surface.
I love you more than the very first day,
and everyday after that,
till this very day, where I’ve loved you most
and have never loved anything just as much.
Every second my love grows and longs for the scent of you
and your hand in mine,
intertwined,
as if they were a painting
that would live through the centuries and never die.
And though my love for you seems eternal,
I am afraid you do not feel the same.
And as my love for you grows,
your love seems to decay,
just like the moon’s final seconds before every sunrise;
a bird’s tired wings;
a baby’s growth blossoming
into something less innocent, less attached;
a rainbow’s last goodbye through the puddles left to dry;
the drops of rain that only lived their lives
watching themselves fall into their unfriendly fate,
and just like the last minutes of every single day -
there will always be an end.
There will always be a “last,”
instead of something that was made to last.
And here I stand to love you, for as long as I can,
and though yours has halted, I still hold true to my promise:
to love you like it were the very first day
as if it would never require a last one.
- g.d.
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 9:58 PM UTC
A tumultous storm is passing the valley
and I am stuck in the midst
nowhere to hide and nowhere to go.
I try to walk towards home with my rainbow coloured umbrella.
My abode on the hill nearby,
and an uphill task to go,
the gale is growing stronger
i just can't slow.
The heaven has been unfriendly
not answering to my prayers
I slipped a million times as He wanted me to scare.
The strong roots of the trees have held my hand firmly
not gushing me down
as a true friend in poverty.
The rain spoilt my umbrella, the seven colours faded
I faced the heavy drops as my parasol betrayed.
Toiling to crawl up
the rain was failing to stop me from going upstream,
the nimbus this time is ghastly than ever
but i will have to return to my dear ones
albeit bruised from head to toe,
none to hear my scream .
Both rain and me are bleary and had to pause now,
the firmament is clearing up with the sun, peeping through the clouds
and I am nearly near my hilltop house.
The sky was happy to see me alive and
gifted me my rainbow umbrella as return gift from above,
I tasted glory in the rainbow from the hilltop
and my abode.
Bina Mukherjee
May 1, 2021
May 1, 2021 at 9:16 AM UTC
This my our journey.
Ice...
Jutting miles towards the heavens.
Above the jet stream.
Higher than most airliners fly,
Up and beyond,
The pinnacle of our love,
Is the closet to the stars.
I am lured by its magnificence,
I am attracted by the challenge.
Even though there is a chance,
I wont survive.
Storm winds blow 100 miles per hour,
Pounding it's victims,
With triple digit wind chills,
And zero visibility.
Every climber dies a little.
Fighting a losing battle against cachexia,
Because above 18 000 feet,
Cuts never heal,
The body depletes,
The air is so dry,
A cough literally fractures a ribs.
Weathering such unfriendly conditions
Is...
The ultimate test.
There is a 99% chance,
That I'll fail the quest.
But I promise
I'll do,
My best.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
Oh John Green!
Why must you see me this way?
You make me weep
and wish they would live another day.
You are so witty
but you do lack certain skills
Killing the main character is so unfriendly
But chocolate will solve the problem anyway
You make me think a lot of things
but they don't have a lasting effect
I know you throw a lot of paper in the bin
But in all due honesty
I feel like setting you ablaze.
Much love,
J
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 9:32 AM UTC
The night conspiratorial,
A certain unfriendly bite to it,
heaviness like things undone,
Autumn is television cackle mahogany scented,
one creature making sense
Of its biology,
Legs and arms and hearts and minds entangled,
Until lethargic resignation
Slipping our memories in years to come,
Like we were absent from our bodies,
Fleetingly appalled at my abandonment,
To what extent do the walls know?
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 9:28 AM UTC
1.
Exposed train platform
And the type of wind that goes right through you
A small cup of coffee clutched tight in naked hands
The only source of heat
2.
Quiet café on Saturday morning
Two friends long estranged
Brought together by bad news
3.
Half-punched coffee cards
A daily routine
Five cups and the next one’s free
4.
Don’t talk to me before I’ve had my coffee
Because I might still be half-asleep
And if I see you I’ll think I’m dreaming
5.
She takes a nap
I take a coffee break
6.
Greeting the sunrise with the day’s first cup of coffee
After walking to the bus through the snow
And riding the bus through unfriendly streets
The snow melting through the window and the wait for class to start
7.
Greeting the sunrise with the day’s fifteenth cup of coffee
Or fifth hit of amphetamines
At the moment two days become one
8.
“Let’s get coffee sometime”
“I don’t like coffee”
“Tea, then?”
But I guess you don’t drink either
9.
My first week in a new city
Walking along the arterial at night to meet you
At a coffee shop
It’s small, just me and the man playing guitar
And two other customers
No, wait
One of them is getting behind the counter
So one other customer
You aren’t there yet
I don’t know if you’ll show
So I sit and fiddle with the chess pieces on the table
While I drink
10.
When entrees have come and gone
And dessert is just a memory
We’ll still be in this restaurant
With just ourselves
Our coffee &
Our conversation
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 6:51 PM UTC
That day when I met the Eskimos
they were sitting by an ice cube house
On the hot Caribbean Island of Brim
I was about ten
The Tourism Board parade them like cattle on an auction block
Somehow, this Trinidadian floosy remind me of Eskimo Nate
All eyes in the shop were on her hips
those
bewitching and enticing moves
As she walked away,
Her long dread locks swing from side to side
I knew it wasn’t black pride
who was she trying to impress?
There wasn’t a man insight
just a beauty shop full of high volume of estrogens
and mixtures of hair bleach and toxic fumes
so difficult to consumes
The hairstylist just knew how to work it
with her deep orange outfit,
her usually looking pouty lip;
would make a Godfearing woman turn tricks
The **** bowlegged female *****
Never seem to quit.
She remind me of a younger me
a very long time ago looking for a mate
stylish, feminine young thing
But look where that got me
An unfriendly divorce and years full of hate
The youth of today will carry on the old Madame tradition
If you got it flaunts it.
Make the cowboys want it.
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 6:07 PM UTC
We have seen each other for a moment
you are immature, ***** ******* and idiot.
you are a tool
you are awkward and you think the world revolves around you
I have come to notice
that some people play dumb, when they are really dumb
you are unintelligent academically and socially
you need to grow the **** up
you never learn from your mistakes
You believe rumors more than my words
someone started a rumor that I was cheating
and you believed other six people instead of me.
You are so jealous of me
since I have moved on with someone else
better than you will ever be.
And every night I ask myself why I dated you
and I laugh every single day when I hear stories about you
that you are ******* ******* disrespectful and unfriendly to others.
I can only imagine what the next victim will be
and how she will tolerate your bad childish behavior.
I feel sorry for you because you never are over **** about your past
you get annoyed and bothered by little things.
You thought that I ruined everything here
but really, you helped me understand childish men like you
and now I can look for a better man.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 1:02 PM UTC