"vindicated" poems
I am like an astronaut floating in the sea
I know where I’m supposed to be
and I know it’s not here
Yet despite the creeping sense of my vindicated isolation
I still manage to revel in the wonderment that surrounds me
I may not be where I belong
But I am here none the less
So instead of trying so hard to find my place
I will accept where I have landed
For while I may not be here for a long time
I am here
And here is beautiful
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 11:26 AM UTC
*The Ripe Color Of My Skin Has Perished,
Along With The Wide Smile I Once Bore,
Music In My Soul Which I Once Cherished,
Has Fallen Flat And Crumbled To The Floor
The Sweet, Joyful Sun Has Dissipated,
The Flowers Within My Heart Have Withered,
My Mind Has Never Been Vindicated,
My Green Eyes Clouded With Blue Of Blizzard
The Autumn Leaves Are Ragged And Soggy,
As If They Wanted To Mimic My Lips,
The Moaning Voice Of The Breeze Is Groggy,
As It Caresses The Earth's Swinging Hips*
*O, I Remember The Smile I Wore,
Although, I Recall It Being A Chore*
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 7:40 PM UTC
He wasn't exactly virulent,
nor was he benovalent.
He was always vindicated
which never failed to indicate,
that he was sophisticated.
They said he was a gift taken for granted.
He was free but priceless.
He was what they desired to have
Yet something which made them crave.
It was said he was an illusion.
Which never failed to create confusion.
In the soft &impressionable mind of their's,
They said he seemed limiteless in despair.
But yet was quick in perky affairs.
Once lost he could never be found again.
He was 'time'.
~Faiza Khan
May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 4:09 AM UTC
Here I'm rejected
there I'll be condemned
I'll not be excepted
anyhow--slammed
in my face, subjected
to every form of malice-- crammed
among those suspected
of betrayal--- contempt
raises its venomous# head and I'm hated
for the views I hold-- hemmed
by envious forces-- everywhere hunted
I am an innocent victim--damned
and left to ideas I've constructed
my own pain to consume---stamped
TRAITOR* -- my only hope is to be vindicated
by future generations which would have my thoughts revamped!
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 10:44 PM UTC
Barely Legal
Wouldn't change a thing, even if I could,
when I see her, I always sport a wood.
She is so very fine,
seeing her puts me on cloud nine.
Best *** I have ever seen,
hard to believe she is still a teen.
Between he thighs is the Bermuda triangle,
I get lost, but its something I can handle.
Smoothest skin you'll ever feel,
got turned down, but I applied for an appeal.
Hair is down to her ankles,
have to be careful when I light candles.
Our relationship is one of love and hate,
every topic is a heated debate.
She only likes me for my third leg,
to get her, I must always beg.
Our age difference doesn't matter,
I'm always on deck, to be the next batter.
She is not even old enough to drink,
but on the inside, its always pink.
She calls me her sugar daddy,
I always end up being her caddy.
She cheats on me every chance she gets,
but I still have no bitter regrets.
She moved in and steals all my money,
but she is more sweet than any kind of honey.
She is the most sexiest stripper,
I will always be the biggest tipper.
Then one day she was gone,
she used me just like a pawn.
She took my money and stole my new car,
she is now the biggest **** star.
The ***** never did pay me back,
now she is addicted to ****** and crack.
Tracked her down and got her rehabilitated,
she is now truly vindicated.
She lost the devil and found god,
well that's what she calls me, when riding my rod.
It truly is good to be the king,
she's now my queen, not just an expensive fling.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC
galaxy.
cosmic.
constellation
explosion
now.
present.
three-dimensional.
zero hour
infinite
tunnel vision
proliferate.
obliterate
paradox
existential
hypnotize
twilight
melancholy
rush
orbit
choir
parallel
sublime
conscious
claim
strong
vindicated
frequent.
fallen
free
secrets
delicate
envelop
common
echo
violent
beg
complex.
release
natural
heartbeat
determined
fear
daring
battlefront
efficient.
wine
courageous
scarred
wise
poison
trust.
eternity
confident
ecstasy
ordinance
splinter
thin
darkness
reverent
veil
admirable
unremitting
acidic
lethal
responsible
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 4:39 PM UTC
Feelings deep, never complete
Crooked hearts, fallen thoughts
Lonesome girl, wrongful scars
Vindicated lips, ripped to the sewn
Fearing all that's let on it's own
Contradictive misconceptions
Shadows crept within perception
Lost between fingertips
Weakness then comes to grips
Hope leaks from the tell
Past that fell, begins to dwell
Freckled smiles, such a misstatement
Disappointment reaches eyes
Dreary sorrow, spite along the beloved
Nothing pushed; all is shoved
Diverted content, oppression left
Soulless veins are all that's kept
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 8:20 PM UTC
Victimized by external circumstance;
Vindicated by internal perseverance.
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 7:51 PM UTC
I'm done getting faded
My dream's vindicated
Your eyes don't have to waste time on me
My words keep on falling
My mouth hits a wall and
My pupil pin point prevents
Me to see
I just can't stand for this **** again
Walking on water
With weights on weak knees
Without the dope sick
Dream trip
I can feel the breeze
Right beneath my cheeks
Where the wind used to blow
Too high to know
The difference between
Free and
Let be
I'm done getting faded
Fake friends getting wasted
More time to find how I can please
The mind that's been on a grind
To forget memories
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
*Who else would listen,
But* you?
You take every inch of self-blasphemy and agony I have to offer
You hear every half muttered feeling
Every cut
I only used the blood to tell you what I thought
Our love was one most often found and subsequently lost in childhood
Before the sunset of adolescence brings dark into the world
And in its depths
We realize how small we are
How far we are from places that feel safe
Our love was a shield against that
I could tell you my secrets and you'd shine brightly, make the world small again, if but for a while
It was you I stayed up all night to talk to
Underneath the covers with a flashlight and a pen and YOU.
God, you.
You listened to every insignificant detail of who I was and in your foggy dialect made me feel vindicated
You've always been,
And as long as you have, I've loved you.
Dear Poetry, my God, have I loved You
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
To see the abnormal in the usual
To spy a quaint sliver of seperation
A stutter of fluidity; fluidity primary
The unknown subjection personified
These idealistic constructions forever permeating
Where currents join in twitching pools, swaying
to let their particles cloister and vibrate with
infusing spasms that dispel and attract-
Creating the magnetism of substance
Blank resound bliss
Drunk on a thousand drops
Vindicated from a thousand poisons
Reborn
at grid dot
Flowing invoice implode
All afterward foreshadowing
Being this precursor
Not an equation to be witnessed with
the surgical pangs of intellect
Arbitrary
Problematic
Instigative
None of this
Something ness
Of the womb sea
Blank resound bliss
without tributaries
though sensing its leaks
After Big Bang of suitor system silt
Wanton to multiply
Rabid and violent
In conquest
of joy and earth
What I bring to light
My depths are dark
Empty is the surface
Empty is my sleep
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
Violated-
and yet to be vindicated, the pieces of me that have been stolen and never returned, still haunt me when I close my eyes.
Isolated-
from my mind, unable to access and find the proof of my memories that were left behind. The walls I built to keep the pain from finding me, have become the prison that fuels my decay
Only-
fragments remain, a broken mirror scattered on the floor. Seeing myself in parts, dripping blood as I piece myself back together, to never remain as before
Lingering-
in the shadows of my thoughts, I search for solace in silence, but the echoes whisper softly in my ear, spinning in my mind.
Empty-
heart and empty mind, crush the pills and scrape it in a line. Just a release to keep your ghosts away from mine.
Never-
will I be the same. Each small event had a role to play. Making me sick thinking about their game. The void is deeper than I can explain.
Crashing-
waves of doubt and regret pull me under, suffocating the last remnants of who I thought I was. But in this water, I cannot see. Forcing my eyes shut to avoid the pain of the salt sinking in.
Endings-
are not what I fear. It’s the thought of never having a chance to begin again, the weight of knowing my worth and understanding what safety really is. My heart is violent just like you. My mind unsafe too. Yet i couldn't be violent the way you do.
Feb 19, 2025
Feb 19, 2025 at 12:38 PM UTC
a music box of magic words
of circuses, gruesome murders and monsters
a mad logic of connected disconnected things
held together by the drifting mists of dreams
first air and rainbows
destroying pious falsities, telling new tales
of many things to come, flying above the crowd
showing the blinding white distance ahead
of the two ice capped poles
past he various categories
like old people who die when the weather turns
yet there is a desire to summon and expect disaster
you've seen the show, blinding like the sun on water
matched only by the patience
of the floating fall of a ladies silk stocking
a music box that looks immensely vindicated
and in those precious seconds, these busy seconds
that mumble and murmur to themselves
of divine and temporal forces
tastes the whiff of immorality
that possesses that special skin
that cruelty of countless acquisitions
of alchemy especially its capacity to coach sorrow
to teach it to touch the regurgitated
inaccuracies of indentured truth
ah! the music box who returns the echoing roar
of answerless answers with questionable questions
yet inoculated and protected by the vast pleasures
that somehow conceal themselves within the music box
in its rhythms and its clock-work metal innards
cancel out any pain and the half closed eyes that stop the heart
shatter the sky
shower with an avalanche of magnetic attraction
the magic music box, the magic music box
Pandora's magic music box
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 10:55 AM UTC
A black maid enters.
Cowed, inarticulate,
she makes obeisance to her mistress,
our erstwhile heroine.
She is given a menial task
in a perfunctory fashion,
and you thrill at this splash
of historical colour.
But her mistress's command
is irrelevant. She is fully engaged
with two vital functions
with which I have entrusted her.
The first: she has bathed our heroes
in moral ambiguity -
she is a shortcut to complexity,
rendering the important characters
doubly fascinating,
bathing them in pathos.
The second: she has pleased you
as you recognise your own outrage:
"Why must she be black?
Why can't they treat her better?
Don't we live in finer times, you and I?"
And a happy reader
is a reader who will proceed,
enlivened, vindicated, affirmed.
And thus freshly enslaved,
she returns
to the sculleries of my imagination
as we press nobly on.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 5:39 AM UTC
Welcome to my dream
I found my voice.
It was in between
vivid dreams and
(voice)
tainted reality.
Dreamers dream their lives
away.
Reality is scarred,
stained,
with sullen grey clouds, filled
with all the disgusting
regrets
Waiting to unleash its hell
on the unsuspecting day.
My voice is slowly slipping away.
Have you ever had a dream?
One that you wished would
push reality aside.
Keeping you hidden.
I am waiting,
to pour myself out
to those I wish could.
Listen to my oncoming storm.
Clashes of white-hot lightning
One in a million.
I am going to play
the odds and
God willing they’ll be in
my favor.
Living in this lucid dream
of mine.
The only thing I truly own.
Here I can be
the Supreme
Being.
Life will only get better.
I know it will.
There is no need to second-guess
the decisions.
That brought us to this poem.
Where others see nothing,
I see destruction.
Crumbling and decaying
as you dance through.
A torturous waltz.
It is time for this dream to be vindicated.
Waiting to be rebuilt…
Begging for me to care…
What happens if I never wake up
from this dream?
Would it matter if I stayed here
and rotted away?
Becoming a fragmentation of
myself.
Lifted up to Heaven on a
dream.
Invading my solace
I will never forgive you.
This blantant disregard for
any emotional attachment I had with
you.
If I stayed here,
would you even notice?
Give into the easy path.
The path carved through
broken trust,
jaded love,
misplaced sense of self.
You’re selfish
And I am angry.
That my dream is ending
with you stuck inside it.
Dreamless nights turn
into an unforgiving reality.
The storm is here.
My voice is gone.
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 4:07 PM UTC
Let me make your life easy
Now that you making so many efforts
To end mine
Guns, Pistols, Bombs and your own body
So considerate , so kind.
So let me help,
Let me whet my trepidation
Lacerate my flesh, from inside
Let me batter my silly quivering, numb
Let me assure them ,they will be insensate
It is only a matter of time.
Meanwhile,
Tell me how would you like it?
Mere flesh soaked in ****** quagmire
Silent in death , heeding to you instruction manual
Or
Crisp shrills rising in cacophonous notes
Reciting curses in quandaries, jabbing your fiend inside
Or
should i use my imaginations
On 'how to ruin my own life?'
So behold and hold
My veins from the end
And haul towards your side,
Twist to cause added agony
Or may be crush my lungs
To hasten me out of my life
See my insipid blood splatter
As it draws tattoos of attainment on you
Hear it gurgle
As you guzzle it out of my body, as if some wine
Nevertheless,
It won't evoke any poignant feeling
Even if you realize in the end
You and i are same kind.
So drown me deep, so deep in the pool which is red
Sorry again,if you were expecting blue,yellow,green or may be white
Descend me twice the force
If i brawl or condemn against your peace of mind
Hear the music of my diminishing gasps till the end
And move on , tattooed and vindicated.
-Pallavi Goswami
Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC
A year ago
You told me to stop being so picky
Sat me down
And after a few bottles
Called me a miserable ****
For having such high standards
A year ago
You asked me
What good is intellectual connection
In the face of desolation
A year ago
You reprimanded me
Telling me how I was getting old
And how I'll die alone
If I don't compromise
A year ago
I laughed and shrugged
Lit another stick
And grinned
Knowing what was good for me
And how your advice
Was anything but
And now
How I laugh and grin all the more
Vindicated
Justified
At having listened to my heart
Instead of your misguided words
The lot of you.
Had I paid you heed
I would never have found my geisha
Instead trapped in the
Clutches of some strumpet
Drowning in the sediment
Of awkward smirks
And silent drives
Singing desperate songs
Never tell me to settle again
If there's any settling that I'll be doing
It's settling down
With my geisha.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 12:03 PM UTC
Set sail on the winds and whims of vindication
A clockwork orange of human nature
Algorithmic math may apply
Born from anger and rage
Vindicated by revenge
Burn and burn again.
Burn until there is nothing left but a speck of off-white wax in the night
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
Your mother would be proud of you
That's what you told me
When I asked her, her opinion, she turned and said to me
One day he will be jailed, or my four will become three
When I pointed out your white lies
And each great or small misdeed
Objecting, you'd cry, "I'll make
"Something" from my misery."
I cried, and I tried to tell you before it happened
What comes from this foolish pride
& You cocked your head, laughing back
While spitting in my eyes
Oct 31, 2023
Oct 31, 2023 at 7:46 PM UTC
When I was a child
We had an army in our backyard
They suited up in flower-print dresses
Their bodies billowed out in the wind
With new gush of air
And their shoulders were pinched by close pins
Holding them in a steady line formation.
My brother and I thought highly of our soldiers.
They guarded our house when they were outside
And inside they warmed our mother’s body
We returned the favor in different types of weather
When it was raining we could take them inside
And lay them flat and resting on out parent’s bed
And in sunshine we would let them bath in light
After a hard night’s watch.
We would sit on the porch and watch our troops
Hand in hand as children, whose world could
Afford to be guarded by clotheslines.
And we would know that the value of this memory
Would be vindicated by its longevity in our memories.
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 4:58 PM UTC
I find myself falling
Like an angel with burning wings
This night has consumed me
Ive committed horrible things
Envy Lust Hatred and Greed
But loving you is the worst indeed
Id ask your forgiveness for I am sick
But vindicated Im not and time doth tick
When you shall wake Ill stay my calling
But till then, Ill continue falling
Jul 10, 2012
Jul 10, 2012 at 7:20 PM UTC
today my therapist told me that i'm depressed
and i wasn't surprised and i felt almost
vindicated
like when i dislocated my knee and spent months yelling at doctors
no no can't you see
something's wrong i can't walk right
it hurts to stand
it hurts to move
and then when my physical therapist finally figured out what was wrong
yeah it ****** to be told my legs were ****** up
but finally somebody SAW
somebody GOT IT
after i had surgery to fix my knee, it got worse for awhile
but now it just comes in waves
my bad days are a lot like my bad knee
some days i only remember there was ever a problem if i see the six inch scar on my right shin
but some days the pain makes it so i cant walk down the stairs of my apartment building
some days i don't think a single bad thought, and i can almost forget everything that happened
but some days my anxiety is so bad and i'm so depressed i can barely breathe
my knee surgery was three years ago and i still can't run a mile or walk down stairs without feeling pain
i try to keep that in mind when i remember how long it's been since i finally got away from my father but it's hard
it's hard because everyone can see the scars on my leg and say
oh what happened? are you okay?
no one can see inside my brain or see the surface of my heart and say
oh god, what happened to you?
so when my therapist told me i was depressed
would it be crazy if i said i felt a little relieved?
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 2:47 AM UTC
Does it feel right that it ended
Or as if it was just wasted?
Will another chance come again
Or was that the last time it would happen?
Are you going to ask for a sign
Or just sit back and resign?
Are you going to keep trying
Or **** it in cause its already hurting?
Why can't there be a middle ground?
...Because it makes things vague
Why can't there be compromise?
...Because its just gonna complicate
Unsure, undecided, unmotivated, un...
Discouraged, distracted, disarrayed, dis...
Vindicated, decided, inspired...
Encouraged, focused, collected...
Black or white, make a decision...
If you truly want to make it right
Find a way to put things back in the light
Just keep trying even if it takes every night
It could get better, it just might...
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 8:18 AM UTC