"unwise" poems
Love is slippery and fickle,
Yet it can exist without a single nickel,
When you have feelings of doubt, to say the least,
Won't you look into the eyes of the Blue Eyed Beast?
Love is not always as it seems,
What may seem good may lead you to dark desolate realms,
When all feelings of hope have thoroughly deceased,
Won’t you look into the eyes of the Blue Eyed Beast?
Love is able to possess one into doing the unwise,
Such acts will certainly lead humanity to its demise,
When your optimism is completely released,
Won’t you look into the eyes of the Blue Eyed Beast?
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 9:42 AM UTC
Camel crush cigarettes
Put them in a fancy box
No, I’m too poor to buy them
But if you pass’em
Then I won’t say no.
People say that it’s unclean
That you’re unclean
That they’re unclean
You smell like a hotel room
And it’s comforting.
Camel crush cigarettes
Your hugs speak of the habit
No, take your precious smoke break
**** it clean to dust
Barreling into death.
People say that it’s unwise
That you’re unwise
That they’re unwise
You smell like drunken Saturdays
And it’s delicious.
Camel crush cigarettes
I’ve never felt addiction
No, I don’t think that I could
It’s a scarlet dreamland
With one-way tickets.
People say that it’s unkind
to lungs and mind
They’re right, I find.
But you look like abandon
And it’s inviting.
Camel crush cigarettes
I’ve never loved a smoker
No, I’d always been too proper
But if you tasted like that
I wouldn’t mind a bite.
People say that you’re catering
To your un-ease
With a disease.
You feel like contradiction,
And I’m depraved.
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 3:21 AM UTC
Men and women all born to a creed
no creed an advocate for evil deeds
Savagery of the Peshawar kind
has more to do with an evil mind
that does not think nor analyze
blinded it is by emotions unwise
Biochemical imbalances of the brain
and a body bereft of a conscience
is that what makes them take an AK47
and wreak havoc on defenseless innocence
a satanic act born of frustrated cowardice
that seeks to hide in dark disguise
behind the shroud of distorted beliefs
that seeks revenge as heavenly relief
Those that make their own earth a living hell
Which God and what paradise waits for them pray tell?
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 1:54 AM UTC
You're not worthless.
But your actions exude it, worthlessness...
For anyone that could take the gentle, pristine heart, and make it spew purple-black hazes of vengeance, betrayal and loss is unworthy, unhappy, hateful and unwise.
But he still is not worthless.
I am finer, I am greater, I am better.
For you I will not lose my worth.
I have forgiven every last of your evils.
You violated me. You embarrassed me. You used me. You scared me.
And because of the many you's, I am learning my worth.
Hopefully someday you'll learn too.
That even you, with your heartless, lying, deceiving and scheming low self esteem, you o lost and ignorant soul, you are not worthless.
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
The Milk-and-Water School
Alas! she would not hear my prayer!
Yet it were rash to tear my hair;
Disfigured, I should be less fair.
She was unwise, I may say blind;
Once she was lovingly inclined;
Some circumstance has changed her mind.
The Strong-Minded or Matter-of-Fact School
Well! so my offer was no go!
She might do worse, I told her so;
She was a fool to answer "No".
However, things are as they stood;
Nor would I have her if I could,
For there are plenty more as good.
The Spasmodic or German School
Firebrands and Daggers! hope hath fled!
To atoms dash the doubly dead!
My brain is fire--my heart is lead!
Her soul is flint, and what am I?
Scorch'd by her fierce, relentless eye,
Nothingness is my destiny!
5.4k
this is a typical story
you see this amazingly cute guy and you like him
and you fell for him
like the blossom
from the cherry trees
he finally notices you and you're now together
it wasnt a normal boy
this one had the sunset in his eyes and you loved it
but little red flags popped up right away
and you saw it but failed to understand
internalize and do something about it
you didnt want to believe it
but now its all over cause there was someone else
i guess you were the side chick
how unwise of you to think you were the only flower in his garden
but oh baby he was digging up other roots
nobody can escape the prison of unfaithfulness
but infatuation never hurt so much
betrayal and deception is what he gave you
and it's dwelling in your heart
spreading faster than an epidemic
you wished you had saved yourself from the pain
but truth is we cant always be saved
sometimes we need to be in pain to know what makes us happy
so basically this is a ten word story:
you thought you mattered but you dont so move on
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
We use video games
To make video gains
Until the screen goes black
And reality attacks
We lose all our progress
In the deletion process
As we level up we devolve
Around the TV we revolve
The more experience we gain
The more moments we lose
Our memories forever stained
When this is what we choose
Our life inside a hard drive
Our life becomes a hard lie
We revel in being unwise
Rage quitting life
We enjoy strife
And avoid pesky light
When we live in the dark
With consumerist plights
We are all marks
Video games balance in a zone
Between game and art
The frustration starts
When art is confused for games
And games mistook for art
People take things to heart
And spitefully spew viper venom
If this is where games send them
Then why do we play?
We have no other way
To feel accomplishment
In a society that worships competition
Video games become the second edition
Of a life filled with loss
On our pixelated cross
We are murdered millions of times
Reminiscent of the millions of lies
That make us losers in the real world
Video games become our shiny pearl
The computer displays defeat
When our lives aren't complete
Because we need someone to beat
Not realizing our lives are conquered
By frivolous topics we've pondered
Our meaningless life squandered
And hope comes in the form of new releases
While inside our faulty headset is in pieces
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 3:13 AM UTC
~~○♢○~~
there was once
a girl unnamed
ever doubted
ever shamed
untamed fire
high & wild
she was a haunted
white-hot child
a wayward waif
she had no guide
no way to hold
her rage inside
*"you're a ***** little girl,
watch me as I wreck your world!"
bursting brain
as well as bubble
he brought her
a world of trouble
now unloved
unlovable*
charcoal lily
ragged ****
neglected garden
a bad seed
never knowing
her great need
a prickly thistle
tried to hide
all the pain
she held inside
chorus
for years she went on
in this state
unloved, unwise
and reprobate
no turning back
it was too late
wild parties
dating thugs
drinking *****
doing drugs
chorus
But deep inside
the little-girl-lost
a seed of faith
grew at last
she grabbed a hold
and held on fast
then, when things
were at their worst
she began
to hunger ~ thirst!
because her God
had loved
*her first!
"I've loved you, child.
I had a plan
long before the world began.
Please do not be sad or blue,
this destiny included YOU
you are SO important
to My story
you will bring Me such great
GLORY!
here below
in heav'n above
I'll show you how much
♡♡ YOU ARE LOVED ♡♡*
the woman changed
she was set free
who's the woman?
she is
ME
SøułSurvivør
(C) 8/16/2017
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 6:10 AM UTC
I don't want to be perfect
What an incorrect prospect
I like my defect
At least I'm not an object
My eyes do not resemble suns
My words are more like guns
Aimed at your sons
I've only just begun
My hair is not soft and fine
You simply cannot define
Or enshrine
Standby and do not whine
My thoughts are not innocent and pure
Nothing is secure
But I am certainly not your saviour
My behaviour brings danger
I am not your entertainer
My hands are not are not flowers
I have different powers
Which devours and towers
Over your mouth as he cowers
Nature is not just beautiful
And neither am I
How dare you belittle it with unsuitable lies
Save your goodbyes
I am not your demise, that would be unwise
Do you not realise I have a disguise?
I am not perfect
Yet you could never recreate and resurrect my imperfections
Save your affections
I need to find my own directions, away from your infectious reflections
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 4:42 PM UTC
In long lasting fortitude is the fight of the astute.
A lot of effort is made towards the war of the moral.
And a race towards life is the route.
Preparing the endless fit of strength of all.
There is he who is choosing his fate.
Working hard despite all opposers’ bait.
There is he who is choosing life.
Working hard despite all opposers’ strife.
Lost in the dirt, seeking out of the ruse.
Forced towards the light, brighter and rife.
No letting up despite the refuse.
Clean is the proud, and happy, the player of the flute.
A rite of passage for all is the praise of the immortal.
War is the only dispute
Death is not fatal.
The renegade does not enter the gate.
He is stuck outside the city, and left without state.
The renegade does not know his wife.
He is stuck at heart and can’t even play a fife.
In the dirt he is and is with a lot of abuse.
He cannot escape the knife.
Cut, cutting up despite the accuse.
Reality is but the face of cute.
Subjected to falsified doctrine and the immoral.
It is callous and as rotten fruit.
Moxie exists with everyone no matter how small.
Can the one who is happy learn to hate?
Only he or she can solve this debate.
Finally the long absent sky above the Alewife.
Can’t say that I have seen such teeming wildlife...
Swimming in a sea of its Muse.
The lowly continue their sighs
But I do proudly diffuse.
.This plight of mine is hard to toot.
Exemplified by my emphasis on the astral.
With which I dress in an armoured suit.
So my enemies do not mute my oral.
and the skies do tell in high rate,
How esteemed they are on time and ne’er late.
But giving ever virtuous despite
All those dead or dying, without prospect of afterlife.
It is their way to choose:
The dark abyss of guise,
(or) The gentle river of blue
For now I do keep silent, But still I commute,
With those of higher propositions and goal,
So I do instill thyself a deeper root.
In the waterbed truly formal.
Those who truth ‘I do navigate’
and those of lies ‘I do alienate’
At a loss O’ man or mesmerize,
Work harder on thoughts than just plagiarize.
The foes of old are still and sleuth
I show them love and they in lies are baptized
Tradition is there with purpose, don’t misuse.
I see to it the wise stay wise,
For better they will strategize.
And the unwise, wisdom they will pursue.
Giving them their much needed paradise.
And the lost I will use.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:53 AM UTC
Ignorance is such a beautiful thing,
But oh how toxic it can be.
You poisoned my mind with words of beauty,
Songs of joy my heart did sing,
But now that I know the truth,
Your reputation has been tainted.
How perfect a picture of deceit you painted.
Your behavior is (for a lack of a better word) uncouth.
Some warned that trusting you would be unwise,
But an underlying dissonant chord grew.
Maybe deep down I always knew,
But you spout such symphonious lies.
You devoured my helplessness in a bite so vicious,
But I wanted to live in my reverie,
I didn’t believe the tales of your devilry.
To my morality I’ve become oblivious.
My rationality has become a hindrance.
How can I be wrong if I did not know?
The only thing now (even as it seems impossible) is to let go,
But never will I forget the beauty of my ignorance.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
It consists of this,
all of it and none
I found solace in that
which I could not hold
but only cherish as fond memoirs
of a terrible moment in time
Never full, never empty
it turned into an addiction
derogation of the unwise, with no premise
bawls and shrieks have no place here
this is silent lucidity capsized
hundreds of expressions explaining one thing
one thing that explains it all
Destination: lost
with no means to propel the self
into a promising new day,
pray tell, what will break down the wall
self loathing and misanthropy creates
alone in a crowd, here, but far away
none of it is that important anyway
The smile stealer, grin eater
mood killer, running short of edification
It's never alone; in bed with misery
the smallest things distress
the grandest of thoughts
wanting reprieve, searching escape
as if you could
die and stain pride?
No
Cowardice is lower than this
not worse, just pathetic
but please, ignore my terrible advocacy,
everything is half off today
I'm feeling generous.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
Virgo in the ascendant,
Saturn in decline,
A retrograding antidote,
A calculated rhyme;
Overtones of melancholy,
Undertones of mirth,
A surfeit of misfortune,
Of musery a dearth
Faithless Fortune taps her foot,
While plotting my demise,
A rhythm most unruly,
A metaphor unwise;
In minutes and in seconds,
She wreaks havoc on my pen,
A glib faux pas, no coup de grâce...
And so I start again.
§
_My zodiacal tendencies,
Triumphant in their prime,
Fade to skepticism
As life spins on a dime._
Nov 11, 2021
Nov 11, 2021 at 2:22 PM UTC
Not prison, nor killed,
But his memoir's fulfilled
He named me Ann Williams
Amidst hints he instilled.
His fact is our fiction - demurely disguised.
Bad move, Tomas Gregory
You're tied to your lies
Unwise, catalyzed
Your pathetic demise.
**|
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\/
'**
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 2:17 PM UTC
If I let myself slip, I’ll never make it back out of that state.
I’ll never wake up and perhaps that’s what my subconscious mind desires, but my forefront thoughts don’t want my time to die,
At least, not just yet.
I am self destructive and lonesome and prone to sadness,
Yet I bring this all to myself.
I gamble and win but instead of engulfing the money in my arms, I wrap my hands around burning sobriety chips and self destruction
Comes knocking back on my door and I let him in like he always had a right to come back.
Like he hadn’t crept up on me in my most vulnerable state,
Like he cared about me.
My mind unwise and my life unfair and my thoughts tangled into spaghetti string before I cut it up
Before I make it easier for me to swallow
What is wrong in my life.
What is wrong with me?
I tend to whisper to myself before my eyes close and the tears fall out the edges onto my pillow, leaving a residue in the morning to remind me that I am not as mentally stable as I want to be.
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 7:08 PM UTC
I romanticize humanity until what's left isn't even human.
I cook up fallacies about legal aliens and add a dash of cumin.
Your chef tosses salads in the pasta section of the grocery store.
Devil's just as confused, with a ***** and an apology at heaven's door.
You don't know, and no one cares where eggs go when they die.
Godzilla thinks of a car full of clowns like you would a sardine pie.
What happens when an elephant gets alzheimer's and loses keys?
Does the paradox consume an entire circus of trapeze-act-fleas?
I ruin birthday cakes by blowing off the frosting instead of the flames.
How I do that? Count backwards from backwards and say my names.
Bittersweet love anthems pollute the brains of conscientious dames.
Heavy metal doesn't pollute, it pacifies rage quitting from soul-sucking games.
Out of the woodwork comes a limp ***** that would work,
Long hours only to find he'd pay millions for a Miley Cyrus twerk,
Which is worth about as much as an all-female circle ****
Unless you add strap-ons, so strap in and lap up the knee-jerk-smirk.
It is unwise to handle scissors when one is being cutting-edge,
Because your accountants will dangle themselves off of a three-storey ledge,
When you cut up the ledgers and make light of, that is, burn, the evidence of pledge,
To the monkeys in your think-tank mailing feces to the upstart farmer's hedge.
Now I know you're sick of rhyming and of poems and of liver culling whisky,
But I must inform you of a pirate's missing eye, I've bought sight of something risky,
I implore that when this song and dance is done, you'll assuredly miss me,
Because I've told you everything about depravity, hence forth you must kiss me.
Beacons of hope shine much like cantankerous silver in the moonlight.
If you're a werewolf that will fill you with hope and with immeasurable fright.
One day the world will admit that I'm awesome and impoverished to boot,
Because when the song and dance is done, what's left is just an ounce of loot.
Jul 20, 2022
Jul 20, 2022 at 9:28 PM UTC
She shuffles and scuttles quickly along
beating her way,
through the Christmas throng
The north wind cutting her mottled face
But shes not part of the Christmas race
For things not needed, luxurious, unwise
Her mind fixed on the price and size
Of a winter coat in that Oxfam place,
she prays its still there, she quickens her pace.
The bell dings-a-ling as she opens the door
Not feeling her legs so tird and sore
Like a long lost friend it waits on the rail
she thanks her god its still for sale.
Her hurry finished, her purchase complete
She focuses now on something to eat
To the corner shop she makes to go
happier now , her step is slow
bread and milk ,this and that
two tins of food for her little cat
Home at last her mission complete
She models her coat and warms her feet
She cuddles her cat and locks her door
She makes their tea and she cuddles him more
She dims the light her prayers are said
She thanks her god for her winter coat
that doubles as a duvet for her bed.
Jun 28, 2010
Jun 28, 2010 at 4:08 PM UTC
Unconscious efforts to diminish my size
Incapacitating distractions leave me unwise,
Deformed by obnoxious societal lies
Parallel faith, mostly untruths in endless wait
Craving fairness
Awareness
Finding only sophisticated insecurities
Because life, as we know her,
Is a dangerous tease.
Oct 29, 2011
Oct 29, 2011 at 12:40 PM UTC
-Supposed To Survive-
I cannot understand
If I am weak or patient,
I cannot understand
What I should think.
Is it okay if I let life play
Or do I fight with all my will?
Wise people would say
'There’s a time for each way',
But how am I, the unwise,
Supposed to decide?
How am I, the fool,
Supposed to survive?
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 10:57 AM UTC
"He's young now." I look into the mirror. "He'll grow on you."
"He's learning. Unwise in his few years, low in confidence."
I ponder..." Will he always be so...scrappy?"
Here stands a young man, looking in the mirror. Still baffled at the reflection he sees.
There goes a woman, his mother, still determined to have a youngest daughter.
People say "He's changing, look in the mirror...see for yourself."
What I see is a scared young man....
scared to live, scared to take up space, scared to make a sound in the noise of society's never ending chaos.
She's trying...she says. To understand. To support. To move on. She knows not her faults nor the effect her words have on you...she only knows that one day her daughter stopped wearing dresses, cut her hair, and left a life of pink and pageantry behind.
No, she doesn't know what she does, but she can see the light in your eyes began to dim when she calls you her little girl.
His father....slowly decaying, pushes the ideas of a son out of his mind. Refuses to see the beard and changing physique in front of him, clings desperately like a moth to a flame to his little girl who he swears never grew a day past the age of five.
Back when things were simple. Back when there wasn't so much **** change. Back when things mattered less about pronouns and more about peace of mind and reputation.
When I grow up, I want to be the change that I wish I saw in all of you. I want to embrace who I love with open arms, decide that I'd **** for the man I see in the mirror. Let all those who disapprove be ******
Because if I couldn't protect the light in that little girls eyes so many years ago, I'll be **** sure that the man I become is one who will protect mine.
Jul 26, 2023
Jul 26, 2023 at 8:05 PM UTC
I don't have the necessary words to get your attention
I can't find the shortest way to talk to you
I feel unspoken, unwise, hidden and forgotten
I find myself walking through a hallway; doors are all open
I ask myself, "Which door 'till I finally get to you,"
One door leads me to another
I'm searching for the door that will lead me directly to you
Once I find it I hope you'll be there.
Copyright© Cynthia Ulloa
All rights reserved.
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 2:37 PM UTC
To turn back time take a mirror
and place it in front of a clock,
wait for the seconds to move
anti clock-wise
unwise to go back
let things become dust
let everything go
the hours are passing
but you're still dwelling
unwise to hold
just let it all go
- dina
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 7:30 AM UTC
The feel of your skin envelopes me the second I close my eyes
Your lips, the very taste of you, your hand against my thigh
Racing hearts and shallow breaths of passion not denied
Dreams are filled with memories and hopes of future ties
The now has changed the status quo, I'm living in disguise
Body and mind and heart unite yet living different lives
In the throws of restlessness I awake to subtle cries
My heart, it weeps for longing, for a need I can't describe
So full of joy between us, there is more than love implied
Drawn to you completely, yet left to wonder why
Choices made against a future that seems eternally unwise
Yet painful yearning pushes to a life that we must try
An aftermath of broken hearts and tears that never dry
Still, we're drawn to one another beyond what we realize
How are we to live apart in lives where the sun won't rise
Where everything we say and do will feel like it's a lie
All the love that we could share has come as a surprise
We can't seem to hide our hearts with what our words belie
Dec 9, 2010
Dec 9, 2010 at 5:33 AM UTC