"vindication" poems
Thyself or Myself.
Selflove or Selfcare.
Eating or consumption.
Redemption or Vindication.
Self-conscious or Self-aware.
Sounds same,
Yet vastly different!
Or might I say diverse?
Mar 13, 2021
Mar 13, 2021 at 6:13 AM UTC
Seasons pass, tempered by insalubrious fervor; treasonous design remiss of fate
An echo of prior songs resonate somber atrophy; mourn the passing of constant defeat, stained by triumphant dissonance and disdain
Fear strides along the broken path, left alone and solemn and crass: Through sour feats of vindication, tones of plight become dismissed
Surfeit, the sound of temptation rides upon the crest of dawn, blinding darkness like calming waves caressing infinite stretches of sand: soft and warm; kind and welcoming, embracing in its gentle touch
Sentience hides behind a creeping fog, whispering secrets of life eternal, bearing gifts wrought through sensuous candor
Two threads lost, now found; slowly bonding, uniting purpose, rhythm, rhyme, and reason; born from the same cloth, garnering habit, singing in harmony what echoes from within
Beautiful, intelligent, staunch with profundity; stark, handsome, wholesome, and good
The call of a true home may finally beckon..
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 2:08 AM UTC
Where goes the time when it flies?
Simplified by expression, and stained by clarity.
Smudge by lucidity
smeared by simplicity
tainted by intelligibility.
Tempus fugit as in time flies.
Sharply distressing with painful feelings
to the point of mental instability
morning or night
we become possessed with its mystic dealings.
Where goes the time when it runs?
Not a solitary explanation is found.
It happens and it won’t stop
until life terminates as well
without cause.
Derived of rationalisation
lacking understanding
short of justification
bursting with vindication
persistently and with conviction.
Where goes the time when it sails?
From the second that we’re born.
Where were we existing?
We cannot be so sure
Cannot recollect the past
Not for the first five of our years
Memory so blur, so shadowy
Hazy with distortions
obscure and confusing
Unit our mind starts slowly to recollect.
Where goes the time when it escapes?
The chronology of life so mysterious.
Nothing can solve its ambiguity
for time is a complex case
with an infinity of secrets.
What’s the obsession when we have so many setbacks
drawbacks and obstacles
obstructions and conundrums
to take care of before time perishes away
and leaves us stranded in oblivion.
Oh time, you magnificent of all mysteries,
the high and mighty of ambiguities.
Show us mercy and explain
we are not detectives of secrecies
your spell with us reflects on the whodunits.
Oh time of things past and yet to come
give us a clue as to what is to derive!
“Remember”
it softly replies “Make most of your lives”
“Once I fly away no one can have a replay”.
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 6:11 AM UTC
Now, I won't try to analyze or criticize what was going on inside your head,
I won't even try to investigate or insinuate about the time taken,
leaving me waiting hoping for a reply but I was mistaken,
heartbroken left alone thinking my love tainted, no I won't try and figure what triggered you to leave,
or why I still want to believe,
there's something out there that can bring me an ounce of relief from the grief,
I just stopped Thinking with my mind my heart was just taking over,
I was turned around going in circles,
my whole world turned dark like all those sad songs you listen to on the radio to release your frustration,
but you seem to not care I haven't even spoken and you're already reaching to change the station, was it exasperation or desperation,
procrastination or your exoneration of obligation, vindication,
or was what I thought as love just another irritation,
I ask and ask but am met with silence instead,
no I won't ask what's going on inside your head, its plain to see no need for anymore concentration, I was merely mistaken.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 2:39 AM UTC
there is hope
like a rising sun
on a distance horizon
lighting up the morning sky
pushing the darkness aside
melting the clouds away
the rays warm my face
coaxing a smile
squinting my eyes
i take a breath, savoring being alive
the sky is blueing deeper, clearer
morning haze is lifting, disappearing
life is awakening, stirring, moving
the beauty is overwhelming, awe inspiring
i see anew, with an indigo eye
things i’d sensed but never knew
i feel too deep, intuit too much
beheld as a curse, repressed, suppressed
i burned, screamed, fell into ashes
my soul lay fallow, quiet, healing, waiting
resurrecting from cold dark depths
heart beating, eyes opening, arms reaching
vindication from self doubt
forgive me Cassandra, Cairn, Mother
i weep, openly, proudly, for your grace
it is the 9th and final gift
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 2:26 PM UTC
When education was restricted
They ran to religion
When solace was stripped away
They ran to martyrdom
Loved ones fell
Hated ones rose
As hearts sank
To the depths of the maelstrom
Fueled by the unholy trinity
Value, vindication, and violence
Bombs decimate Afghan villages
With the precision
Of a needle hitting a vein
And as casually
As a contractor putting a dollar in his pocket
The rubble of their town
Lost in a mist of dust
The rubble of their minds
Lost in a mist of vengeance
The rabid dog chases the subjugated raccoon
The raccoon discovers a sacred hole and hides in it
The predator attempts to encroach the void
The raccoon quivers in it's sanctuary shelter
Finding relief as the hound becomes stuck
And laughs as the infected beast starves to death
But ecstasy turns to terror
As the raccoon realizes it's only way out of this hole
Is being blocked by the gargantuan corpse
Terror turns to sorrow
As the raccoon starves to death
Alone
In the dark
It's holy land now hell
For once it had protected the raccoon from unbridled rabies
But since the hound's death
It's Cerberus size obstructs all progression
Holes become graves
And prey are left to pray
For someone to drop a bomb and clear a path
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 4:45 AM UTC
Is the sky too blue for you
Or the seas too vast
Or your life too full
And your loved ones always beside?
Are you too happy
And that you sulk about that?
What is your vindication for
Your qualms being selfish?
What gives you the blind eye
When everyone else struggles?
What makes you cry
For the little things in life?
And you complain that life's unfair
When you have a roof overhead
And a family that smiles.
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
People say they want to try
to fix the World's problems,
yet few do more than simply imply
that the Symptoms are the problem;
We need to stop simply treating Symptoms
and begin again to seek the Source;
only then can we begin to progress
and begin again to Harmonize.
But they don't really want that;
you see, they like the World's problems:
Perhaps they see it as Vindication
for propagating their vitriolic Dogmas.
Perhaps they seek to seize control
of Earth and her Inhabitants,
or perhaps they seek to establish
lucrative business contracts.
In any case, it seems to me to be the case
that they'd have stopped some problems, just in case;
that is, if the case was that they truly and earnestly sought to:
The World's Problems ensure future Business
for the Military-Industrial Complex.
The World's Problems enure future Business
for the Pharmaceutical-Industrial Complex.
The World's Problems ensure future Business
for the Disedification-Industrial Complex.
The World's Problems ensure future Business
for Banks, Demagogues, Tyrants, Corporations and Thieves
(sometimes all are one in the same!)
-
We need to stop dwelling upon the Symptoms
and do something about the ******* Source;
It's about time we, as Humans, stood up to this; our Wretched System,
for precisely the same ideals it so facetiously claims:
Justice, Equality,
Freedom, Liberty,
Tranquility, Solidarity,
Opportunity, Prosperity;
We have strayed.
We have been betrayed.
We are being played:
We should be ******* irate.
Irate, and yet Calm.
Non-violent, yet resisting:
Civil Disobedience is a Virtue
in a World such as This.
Civil Disobedience is a Symptom
of a World such as This.
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 10:01 PM UTC
the cosmos exudes from between our toes
trails of nebula and spiral arm galaxies
burden the floor with their scented residue
of caramel complexion on mint cream -
expectations fall to the wayside
as the wayside falls to expectations
trust in the infallible,
if the world ( is to me )
saved from the virtuous vindication's of a pacifier society
run to the nearest tree and sway with the blustering breeze !
for the cosmos exudes between our toes
trails of nebula and spiral arm galaxies litter the floor
tell me a tale of who i am ,
yet i know i have not felt myself in my fullness.
for i was born before the cosmos could take her first steps
or the sparkling sun stars could take their first light
i am neither the mountain nor the valley in depth
but within both i am sure to reside ~
out of my womb cascades a waterfall of pixie dust to the glee of several a man .
yet i always had wondered why none stuck around to hear from the well versed band.
I was quite sure the depths that i knew how to love
would create a whirlwind of sorts
enhanced by the glow of a dark purple blue rose , i’m not quite the type for rose quartz
to spend my love ***** nilly , a silly endeavor indeed
not all can handle the burn as i am
Light Sky ,
a fire filled sky ,
i am the sunrise dripping from the heavens in mellow tones of yellow and pink , i am the solar eclipse, sacred geometry in motion
and by association
i am the high tide moon shine get you drunk off one look sunset in the desert , dark purple blue rose kinda lady.
and you ,
my earth breeze , can whistle up a tune to jam with me , like no one would ever believe..
The cosmos that exudes between our toes
stacked layer upon layer
like a pancake tower
are the places we go to when the world
closes it’s eyes.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 12:46 AM UTC
The twilight speaks of greater
Greatness, for your spirit soars
Across the horizons of life and
The living--- leaving an era of
Idealized legacy of redeemed
Human equality and possibility.
The indomitable soul you once
Wore under your colored skin
Fuels our aspirations for a better
World of kaleidoscope of faces,
Races, and happiness. Nelson,
Now that you have entered
The narrow door of immortality,
Let our tears be a vindication to
Your ideals of freedom and
Democracy. Rest in His peace
Our dear old man. For the world
You toiled to change is now our burden
Just as how we are burdened with
Your humility and humanity.
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 2:25 AM UTC
Water take no cleansing action to his detention
That has felt no remorse for the notion of vindication
Foolish mentality, child without maturity
Lead by impulse, and lulled by a narcissist
Sitting there like gravity has given you control
Ignorant individual entrapped with your own soul
Take one moment, talk, not to her but for her
Exactly what was your discourse, are you her
Did you act on juvenile inclination or fortification
Subconsciously lost to wicked temptation
Sincerely do you have a mental hindrance
I’m subjecting to name-calling because of this dance
Who are you following what are you allowing
Your letting the past mold your thinking
Don’t get defensive you made the offensive
Your know the history, yet you let lust be submissive
“Go back” that is what you lack, the thought to review
And guide your way through and accept you’re flawed
Jan 31, 2010
Jan 31, 2010 at 11:37 AM UTC
*On misty recalled mornings
'pon a haze of vindication's wake
you can still hear their whispers
echoing through distressed treetops,
they were lovingly planted midst
meadow's wildflower embrace
gazing into the depths of surmise,
planning their rendezvous to forever*
**when her husband abruptly surprised them
with a double blunderbuss shotgun blast,
right between their cheating hearts**
~ *if you listen intently, their spirits
linger still amid bluff's bluster*
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
*tick all applicable
please use blue or black blood
when exercising choice
in the type of role applied for*
Liberation [✓]
Vindication [✓]
Resignation [✓]
Transformation [✓]
*do you recognise yourself
as belonging to a Demographic
Of Brotherhood.
Of Commonality
to other hurting spirits*
Hope without creases [ ]
Hope, in spite of bruising [✓]
Train without brakes [ ]
A tunnel bricked at each end [ ]
Forest fire as result of
volatile conditions
and negligent spark [✓]
*do you accept that the data you provide
not only reveals everything you would
sacrifice and be sacrificed for
it
also
counts
for
n· o· t· h· i· n· g*
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 6:32 AM UTC
We oughtta consider bringing back
old-fashioned Gladiator Arena combat
as retribution or as a chance at vindication,
depending on how well one performs,
for those who are most deserving:
Those who seek to spill innocent blood or to oppress the masses,
the most corrupt Politicians, Lawmakers, Enforcers and Judges,
overtly violent supposed "'Protectors", such as Soldiers or Police,
the scheming Bankers, that is to say "the House",
deliberately misleading Authority figures,
whether in news or in the world at large:
all the malicious Religious figures,
power hungry Narcissists,
abusive Demagogues,
subversive Tyrants;
if these people have a place,
it's center stage in a Coliseum with little else aside from one another,
their choice of melee weapon and/or shield, some leather armour, and a roaring crowd.
Let's not forget the HD cameras with hyper-telescopic lenses so we can see their faces live in 1080p!
Maybe even add a few hungry Lionesses from time to time
or perhaps some ill-tempered Sharks..
or, a pack of quite irate Wolves.
Our Imagination is truly the Limit!
We could even run ads in between rounds
and sell foam novelty items
and overpriced water
when it's 115 outside.
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 9:31 PM UTC
Just because you make it okay in your Mind;
Just because you felt that you were in a bind;
Just because you feel that now is your Time;
Just because you blame what lies behind;
Just because your ethics are self-aligned;
Just because your pain is undefined;
doesn't make it okay
to act with Vindication
in a destructive way;
Acting in such spite and scorn,
you may as well be Medea:
You'd practically **** your own kids
to satiate thy lust to act as Karma;
You'll get yours.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 5:28 PM UTC
There's a pretentious air
In the way you presume I care.
How could it possibly be fair
To treat brother like mare?
To pass on your obligation
Is to inspire my frustration.
The thoughtlessness and abdication
Resumes hateful thoughts of vindication.
One asks not for reparation
Or from friendship a vacation.
Just a token of creation
Of an equal-footed communication.
I won't hold grudges, or hate
But you've been tense as of late.
You've been jumping my words to conflate
The words for your anger I use to negate.
Could you just chill out?
Nobody is out to get you.
It's hard to be a friend
When even enemies get more respect too.
Nov 29, 2010
Nov 29, 2010 at 10:31 PM UTC
How many times can this moment exist?
Drifting from minutes to actions within it
Crying, love songs, break up lyrics
It’s not physics, it’s his tricks
Meaningless nights, getting his kicks… off
How many times am I going to play the victim?
Girl just leave him alone, get rid of ‘em
Easier said than done.
Instead of looking at all the wrong, you dwelled on the fun
Not once did he say ‘a little romance, intimacy’
Desiring a piece of me
Am I delusional?
You have no idea how many times I’ve set here and cried
Looked out of my window
Admired the couples that pass
Trying not to feel low
But my sad emotions can not be surpass…ed
You’re not the first perhaps not even my last
The last thing that I’d want is for you to be my past
Each of you get me to write again
Describing my passionate sins
My desire
Into a slow burning fire
I want this to be my last. Time. Feeling like this.
Wish
I was a ****** to pain
Oblivious to her strain
Her persuasive power and gain
Like her, I can’t be tamed.
I thrive off of a challenge.
Each of you very different, but you all left the same imprint
My energy should have depleted by now
But some how…
Because I allow
My spirit to take over
I feel myself rise above the vindication of omission
The oblivion becomes reason
And I’m leaving…you.
Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 12:06 AM UTC
Secrecy, how deep can the loyalty really be kept? In what moment is trust broken? Faces walk around so carelessly speaking stolen words they claim for themselves. All moments are being taken for granted is one may not realize their fighting destination. The meaning of life or death is different to many, where do we all meet? Or do we ever? There’s a very thin line between idolism and jealousy, when vain overpowers, it is then crossed. Love of family seems overrated to those who don’t have much to show for it. Young innocents become ***** at the thought of being helpless. Alone. Alone at last. Alone again. Alone day after day. Alone, hope rests between the eyes of each abandoned soul that walks the unknown house of which they wish was a home. Transforming every morning into something deceitful that burdens the ones who cared. Nights began repetitive notions that confused all that in the way, particularly ones’ self. Footsteps suffocated heavily, each step walked towards the past of the future. Thoughts filled with overwhelming disappointment, self-worth disappeared from confidence found deep within. Insecurities frightened to display beyond closed doors. No one knew the but all had knowledge, released inabilities throbbed from hand hold to hand hold. Embarrassment ponders the insides of beginning relation tolls. Wells ran dry of golden coins that sprung from a stronger meaning only the owner would have known. Skeletons quiver at the caterpillar sprouted from the once apprehensive butterfly **** and trampled on by humiliation. Zen became an escape of dreading weaknesses that were always sought. Sinking and sinking, vindication lost its power. Sinking and sinking, serenity was much further gone. Sinking and sinking, all faith tugged the threads that were already broken. Drowning minds spoke all the same, “please don’t let me fall.”
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 12:21 PM UTC
The allegation I believe did not require consideration
It was a gross exaggeration out of desperation
This fabrication, and every sick insinuation,
A complication of a self explanation
Of your deprivation and justification
For your manipulation to suit your temptation,
infatuation with your impersonation
Contamination
Indignation within your contamination,
An accusation of your relation became your revelation,
It was not your reputation anymore under investigation
Starving for salvation, you fed each sick implication
As if each misrepresentation in vindication were a donation
To trade your damnation for his incarceration
As if creation of a demonstration
Desperation for an explanation
For your infatuation with temptation
Deprivation justification was indignation,
Accusation of impersonation -
Realization of manipulation
Salvation from damnation
Clarification of contamination
Allegation as donation
The Incarceration cancellation
The only explanation
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 3:14 PM UTC
After piece by arcane piece is discarded
vulnerability divulging flaws and vindication with neon lights
incision at the fingertips
lies exposed where every finger nail is dislodged
peel back the once forgiving flesh
revealing the standard beauty for its depth
don't suppose those lines in my face
(the conniving spots
where make-up bleeds,
forgotten lies breed,
and fear have taken occupancy)
those lines don't really matter once you remove the mask
Underneath, muscle and connections vibrate
the drive
Red, raw, ugly and most important - authentic
A monster's face, the one that parallels
everyone else's
Tear away at it, pluck each strand of tissue
Play me a lullaby to sooth the screaming
Dust your fingers on the structure of my bones
carve your initials into the white
lay claim to your work, your art
slide any remaining pieces away into the abyss of trash
with the newspaper clippings and elmers glue
bleach away the remaining red
and finger paint your new canvas
A pristine prototype so rudiment
The birth of cool
and for the free
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 11:48 AM UTC
She speaks of truth in her every lie
We saw a calumny in a wolf's cry
Her words had sprung a thousand wraith
Dragging herself to hell's scorching gate.
We watched her as she lifts the curse
A harbinger for what could be worse
The antagonist of a hundred episodes
Reached epiphany as her secret unfolds.
Like a canary in a lion's cage
Devoured soon by the teeth of rage
She chose silence over vindication
Such a piety of a lost religion.
A game she started but could not end
For what its worth, a life to expend
A boomerang of the Death's scythe
Kindred heads are all there is to writhe.
Your glorious days are gone with the wind
As Justice judged all those who sinned
Now you sit alone in that morbid chair
And a familiar scent shall fill the air.
Verily, you will bear the shame
And stain the sake of your clan's name
As our eyes watch in the shadows of the fray
To claim what was ours, a hunted prey.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 3:37 AM UTC
I was beautiful once,
had my magic dreams
& my share of troubles.
I swallowed pain,
sifted through the rubble,
got stained,
tainted by the man,
even been ****** around
by the elite.
I've been drunk on my feet,
indulged in lots of illicit things,
like large doses
of heavy drugs,
***** *** &
petty crime.
I've dreamt of rebellion,
vindication & revenge,
sometimes exposed some
bad tendencies,
but despite all the slights,
all my misfortune & fights,
one thing is for certain,
I haven't found
any good excuse
to become a stone cold
****** killer,
not a single one.
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 4:27 AM UTC
I am the lone insurgent
Walking through the streets
of my own mind.
My mind
Is a totalitarian state.
I am the lone assassin
Of the members of parliament,
Remember, in my own mind.
I am ratted out
By the shrill shrieks
Of an old lady on the tram.
I walk home from endless meetings
With myself, where him
And me plot our rebellion
Sparking the ember, remember;
In my own mind.
The Secret Police awaits
Probably in my living room
Waiting for me to turn on the lights
Revealing the glint of silver nozzles
Mere millimeters from my my head.
The warrant proclaims:
"Conspiracy and ******
I may be lone, but my hand
Wields just vindication.
I may be lone,
But as I am executed
There is still me
And another will always
Follow
Striking the ember, remember;
In my own mind.
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 8:34 PM UTC
The soil and sand remember
how the cities wept,
the towers bowing and breaking,
collapsing with the weight
of the blame they kept within;
the coastal causeway meanders
down a bone-dry path
to nowhere,
passing nothing in particular
but some stilted shacks
in the former fens;
and my own familiar forest,
where I trapped a fox
and made a friend,
was caught off guard by
a flash of light, and some
freakish violent wind;
and now I sit on a stump,
glowing green with
weaponized dust,
to scan this new Sahara
for some sign of life—
some vindication, or some
hope—
but alas,
it’s now past midnight,
and we are all just
silhouettes.
Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 11:55 PM UTC
so, here i sit, having read that semicolons are a ******** tool - im only a partial ******* so, its admissable. in a bar drunk, sass'd, white bitch'd, hot as ever-living hell, hoping for a saxophonist. white ******* off bike lock keys in the bathroom as the door is attempted to be opened; "Sorry, we were ******* splurted, what an excuse; white ***** on a bike lock key - protection from theft, i guess. almost out of tobacco, yet i feel i can sustain, excuse me, remain. "i cant believe you did that, ***** crystal." (not what you think (totally what i think)) ambient psychedelia and a saxophonist (shes been mentioned) wailing, wail, whaling; expunge that Conscious ocean as if you were a Japo. yeah, racial slurs racial slurs. im told its 11.55 post on the 7th, but i am quite aware thats a lie. (most knowledge is (vindication symplified and unerred) unaware of what is being typed anymore) ..
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 12:26 PM UTC