Best Belittle Poems
His smile is like a white crescent,
but a murky sky is hidden inside.
Afraid to portray mourning's of his mind
nor describe sour sickness of his tongue.
Piercing pain constantly stabs at wounds,
but you can't see his bitter blood bleeding
nor the bonfires burning his burdened heart.
He is the master of the masquerade,
exemplary scholar of skillful silence -
a psychologist's worst nightmare.
Yet they flock to him to adore his words,
so they can feel the magnetism of his smile,
laugh at his childish antics, be happy for a while.
Greatest showman playing the great pretender,
but he's crumbling, stumbling and tumbling inside.
Despite an abundance of admiration and applause,
he finds no solace, so feels miserably alone.
Feeling like a snowflake on a rainy day,
an empty balloon battling against the storm.
Demons of self doubt mock his actions,
he shakes his head in disbelief - but they laugh,
he screams, but they belittle him further!
His stomach shrinks with a loss of appetite,
dark bags appear beneath his sleepless eyes.
Life is a whirlpool of fractured fragments of glass.
Wondering what is the blessings of breathing,
what is the purpose of another sunrise.
He aches to be burnt into ashes
Will they even miss him if he is gone?
Silent One
21 October 2020
This poem is dedication to everyone who keeps a smile, when their world is falling apart. Many will relate, this is not a bio.
When writing it, at first I thought about Freddie Mercury and the show must go on, but as I wrote it, Robin Williams came to mind.
Someone we all miss.
We never know what people are going through. Sometimes, I see someone smile, but I try to look beyond. Never underestimate the importance of reaching out to someone. It could make a big difference in their lives.
As poets we have the power to reach out to many people through our words.
Is there someone you have not reached out to?
Thank you for reading.
So many pennies,
lost in the system,
rejected, neglected,
dejected -
cursed by '99' price tags,
a charity box favourite,
nobody wants nor waits for.
So many forgotten pennies,
lost on the streets or behind our sofas,
yet pounds are never thrown away.
Both are round, so why do they only care for the pound?
Maybe its a matter of currency and colour,
or social structure, value and power.
No pound without pennies,
only empty piggy banks and jars,
but pound lovers take pennies for granted,
abuse us, belittle us, try to control us.
They get jealous of our shine,
try to manipulate us into a mouldy depression -
no wonder there are so many homeless pennies.
When did we stop being a priority,
descend to the bottom of society.
Just because we are misunderstood, do not fit in,
we are still round, but ignored by the system
a conflict of civilisation.
Imagine if all the pennies got together,
instead of being slaves to the pound?
Then surely we'd be stronger,
or would we just become pounds?
Has the penny dropped yet?
Sunday thoughts
Silent One
9 February 2020
Tiger in a Cage (a stab at men)
Like a caged tiger.
You do not know what is in my den?
There is no worse feeling than the way I pace back and forth repeatedly.
A headless collar is all you see.
The closer I get, the more you seem to pretend.
To you these stripes look more like dots.
As you, continue to hold my lines and strands in your hand.
You stroke my stripes as if they were a loft of dental floss.
An ORANGE all squishy and rot.
Rough and tough!
You cannot peel what you cannot feel.
You do not know me at all?
You trust me.
You lace me.
You cannot describe the buds.
You cannot feel my fingertips.
A taste of nothing out of your lips.
Indian BLACK streaks in my skin.
How did you manage to even get in?
We mount this unspeakable stability.
A man-eater swallowing her growl.
This hunger is piercing throughout my veins.
Hiding the powerful black star sapphire in my eyes.
Every move I plan ricochets.
A tiger, a tiger in her cage.
Only in your world, I am my own prey.
My wildness is rarely found above my skin.
Every day I wear this heavy coat, my stripes continue to sink in.
It is a solitary confinement when you are around.
You cannot see the black diamonds under this unbearable frown.
Dingy claws, tapping……
Natures dew bestows a toneless mixture of orange and black tattoo.
These stripes, belittle my self-esteem.
The moon flashes overlapped our taboo.
Never will you see a tigers gleam.
Spirituality waiting to rise above the trees.
It is my choice, to stand behind these unbreakable twigs.
Fertilizing like pollen under a blanket of bees.
Still the effects of your eclipse, bounce off my wall.
I am telling you!
You don't know me at all?
The roads these loads continue to grow.
Far ahead, I am the gravel under your toes.
Crouching like a Tiger hiding the way a dragon breathes.
You don't know how I feel!
I am a tiger in a cage please set me free!
by;pd
"Breed to Breathe" by Napalam Death
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKP9aaFkEEQ
When you take a stand and say what you choose,
Without hesitation, or being confused,
Not holding a fear of what others may say,
But to say what you mean in every way,
It liberates your soul, by setting you free,
No longer a prisoner of insecurity,
But a teacher to others who sometimes hold back,
By seeing in you the strength that they lack,
Releases their fears and doubts that they hold,
And helps them now see its ok to speak bold,
Just do it with dignity, kindness and love,
Give all of your fears to our friends up above,
Don’t compromise yourself to collude with the rest,
Speak truth in your words and remain at your best,
If others don’t like the control that they lack,
Because of your strength to speak truth and talk back,
Let that be their issue, don’t lose who you are,
Keep making that stand and you’re sure to go far.
We all have the right to express our beliefs,
Our ideas, opinions, happiness and grief,
But we must allow others to do just the same,
Respect them and their wishes without drama and pain.
To allow them to shame you or belittle your voice,
Says “its ok I don’t mind” like you don’t have a choice,
And the more you keep quiet, the more they control,
Giving up who YOU are so that THEY can feel whole.
It just doesn’t make sense to allow this to be,
I'm no better then you, but your no better then me.
So keep trying hard to find that strength deep within,
And Let old habits go, so new ones can begin.
Don't belittle me
For I'm a child of the KING
made in His image
I make His heart sing
Don't belittle me
For I'm made by His hands
and though I'm not perfect
My weakness He understands
Don't belittle me
Even if I belittle you
Know that I'm sinful
Show me a love that's true
Don't belittle me
Don't make my heart to break
I face a struggle or two
That would cause your heart to ache
Don't belittle me
I try to hold on to life
So don't let what you say
Add a burden or bring on strife
Don't belittle me
But be..a little...me
Try to feel the way I feel
Try to see what I see
Don't belittle me
Give me a little love
For if you're the better one
He'll reward you from above...
Please....Don't...Belittle...Me!
Eileen
Some people wear baggage like a hat in church,
Still others could conceal it through a customs search!
Me? It depends on the mood that I'm in,
My frame may be thick, but my skin's super thin.
As a child, dysfunction was all that I knew.
Violence and alcohol increased as I grew
And the things that I heard and the things that I viewed,
I packed them all up with my clothes and I shooed.
And when I would meet someone, I'd try to disguise
That baggage as noticeable as my big giant thighs.
"You're beautiful," he'd say, but I knew the truth.
I'm fat and I'm worthless, and I've got the proof.
Locked deep in my psyche, but not deep enough,
Some poisonous, invisible gas out would puff.
And heaven forbid he got an ********!
My baggage was foolproof as a form of protection!
If he seemed too perfect on any given date,
My baggage would whisper, "belittle, berate!"
And so I would treat him like a much lower class
Then turn and retreat with my oversized ass.
But one day I waddled into a cafe
So weighed down with baggage every step of the way
That I knew it was time to this load jettison
So I dropped to my knees and prayed, "Help me! Amen."
The baggage still visits me now and again,
And I have to remind it we're no longer friends
I'm married and he loves me whatever my girth,
Reminding me daily I'm the fairest on earth!!!
In a moment of magic I once gave her a juicy innocent peach
Not yet knowing that she harboured a sweet nascent dream
In which as a youngster she knew that she would marry the one
Who handed such a fleshy gift to the gypsy Queen of Fairy Land
Bestowed upon her by night’s prophesy she carried the vision of
Requited love and blissful peace brought by subconscious longing
And spiritual clarity of a Higher Power submerged in compassion
A passionate fruit with soft skin and one huge seed of togetherness
We eloped together into a new dawn
The doomsayers had a field day as they harvested bitter doubts
‘It will only last a couple of months and the peach will turn rotten’
‘You cannot feed on clairvoyant oracles and meek pagan beliefs’
‘They are deluded insane and caught up in misguided romance’
They called her a witch a seductress and labelled me irresponsible
With so much at stake painted pictures of broomsticks and failure
While we had found the jewel in a haystack without even searching
And set fire to the past as we danced naked around a fire of passion
We knew the truth of intuitive feeling
One can never be sure what lies at the end of paths never taken
Whether road blocks and diversions belittle emotions and faith
But they who ignore heavenly signs forfeit adventure and truth
Stay stuck in spent time and hail its dubious comfort at their peril
We travelled and found a small hut on the beach out of sight
Collected starfish and driftwood and caressed wounded souls
Carved wedding bands out of sea shells and called upon dolphins
To witness our marriage surfing along happily ever since then
A cormorant applauded the feast
Under a star studded canopy on the miraculous shore of belonging
We never strayed from what intuition and feelings offered for free
Meandered on the shoreline and set our sails into a magical ocean
Tasted the salt of a mindful earth and soothed our recovering minds
Never questioned the wisdom of our union shared by hungry souls
Treasure pleasure and joy weathered powerful storms and all tides
The cosmos donates all we ever need once we are willing to navigate
Waves and effervescence sparkling desire and in our case a peach
Leading the universal way
13th May 2020
In times where eyes are fixated at your sins,
judgment trolls in deceptive double standards.
When pointing fingers nobody really wins,
there's no joy in being defamed and slandered.
Swimming in an aquarium full of fins,
sharks will bite your flesh then leave you abandoned.
Scars will bleed with pain making you feel brittle,
hard hearts will laugh with insults that belittle.
Afraid of exposure honest souls retreat,
when their character's stereotyped by lies.
Frenemies hide behind a mask of deceit,
their envy is an embarrassing disguise.
Decline the pedestal they place on your feet
emancipate from enslavements that chastise.
Stay clear from those who act like a spirit thief,
growth from ignoring spite gives you self belief.
The days seem to go by so fast. there is a void in the air, the birds have lost their vibrant beat, the ocean has lost its luster, the soil feels solid and dry.
My soul feels as if it has left my body before my death, my dreams haunt my day, the tears stain my steps, my doctor says that it is depression, I say that it is reality, I am intoxicated by society,I am numb by perscriptions.
Why do I feel so isolated within myself? is there no one in my painfully tight shoes? can anyone understand my pain? can anyone melt in my sorrows? why am I this way? why is the world so cruel? why can't I be normal?
Wait! I am normal, what am I saying, I know now, the veil has been lifted, humanity is my enemy, the sins that drip from their sweat, the dread that follows their shadows, their souls of black, their intentions of greed pull a shade across their eyes.
They are destined for doom, they will not be saved, they will not find salvation, they belittle me, they curse me, they shame me, but they are right about one thing, I am different, unlike them, I will be saved in the last days.
Bitter words spew out of your well-polished poison pen
Insult me, go on belittle me with your vile vitriolic venom
Think you are better than me – hell no way!
Every word that spills from your pathetic pen sucks
My one poem to your river of rancid rubbish
Each to their own, but I will NEVER change my style
Bite me, go on bite me - like a sweet juicy apple
I can bite back like a Rottweiler – taunt me enough and I will snap
Tart sour words full of malice I CAN pen perfectly
Except I keep my opinion and hostile words in my head
Me, I don’t pretend to be anything I am not
Every word you pen is pure malignant malice
A fiction write purely for contest.... or is it! You decide!
05~31~15
Contest: Bite Me – John Lawless
What does it take, to be so kind,
to every fault and flaw, be blind
a goodly word, always to find
and wounded heart with love to bind?
Ask Richard!
What does it to take, to give a smile
To stop and chat and hug a while
and kind words on a heart to pile
to make encouragement, a style
Ask Richard!
What does it take to be real sweet
With words of life and light to greet
To leave behind a tasty treat
of loving words, it's not a feat
Ask Richard!
For Richard does it all so well
His kindness works a magic spell
If you want truth, it's truth he'll tell
He'll help the storms of life to quell
That's Richard.
Yes, oh yes, that's Richard!
Eileen Manassian
This poem was inspired by Richard Lamoureux's comment on my poem, Don't Belittle Me:
I would never! I only wish to build you up. I enjoy being in the company of Royalty.
There are always those who say that you are wrong.
They are the ones who never stray from the herd.
They go to school and learn everything about life from manuals.
They write poems and stories like other poets and writers did.
They get good grades.
They stay out of trouble, but engage in acceptable rowdiness and fun.
They write and give great graduation speeches.
They become middle-managers, mostly.
They fold their socks and underwear.
They stay abreast of the latest trends and movies.
They quote famous quotes like they thought them up.
They attempt to belittle, passive-aggressively, anything out of orthodox thought.
They live their lives like lambs.
They buy big, beautiful things.
They wear shiny wedding-rings.
They drive down drowsy streets.
They form committees.
They bake things shaped like commercials.
They invent rules for writing and art.
And
I
Don't
Follow
Them.
People in my school have names for someone like me.
Freak, crazy, weirdo, a spawn by the devil's decree.
I took note of every malicious word they ever spoke,
knowing that before long they'd no longer make me a joke.
None of them knew how truthful were their mocking words.
They had no clue I could spread my wings to fly among the birds,
with ravens that caw out for blood at the stroke of each midnight.
I'd fill their haunting dreams with images of daunting fright.
A snip of dried herbs, a pinch of fungal root, boiled in fat of fowl,
a concoction for me to savor, secreted to me by my mother, an owl.
Eyes that see through bloodshot color, they would see them too
when the full moon was high and the sky turned dark cobalt blue.
No help will they receive from a scream or gyrations to be free.
They soon will know they should never have made a mockery of me.
The time is near, my brew is cooled, now it's my time to have fun.
Tonight their dreams will be nightmares, a gift from the evil one.
With their eyes closed, they will envision they are being chased
by hundreds of bloodshot eyes, the likes of which they've never faced.
Black robes adorned, scepter of wormwood waved from my hand.
Eyes... wild bloodshot eyes, will seek vengeance at my command.
Fog advances to the bedrooms of those who sleep in peace.
My adrenaline is pumping, just a few more minutes until release.
A snarl of satisfaction I feel curled upon my blood red lips.
You won't belittle me again with your taunting nocuous quips.
NOW! I gave the order for the eyes to creep into their dreams
But my heart is beating too fast. This was not part of my schemes.
I can't see a bloody thing. What's happened to the spell I cast?
How long will this blindness torture me? How long must it last?
A truant officer was sent to see what had become of the freak.
Through a window he saw many ravens, all with bloodied beak.
No body was discovered. All that remained was a robe of black
and a note scratched upon the floor. "Too late to take it back."
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
December 26th, 2015
Deep and Dark Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
I do believe in magic
I so believe in peace
I believe you know undoubtedly
Of beauties and of beasts
The human spirit can withstand
And rise above the shrine
Belittle all you want, my dear
I’ll be the dwarf in time
But I’ll evolve as I hold dear
These sentiments that haunt you
I’ll cherish every single tear
Because you’ve plagued me to
I’ll turn the other rosy cheek
Though undeserved it may be
I will forgive, but won’t forget
The promised growth inspired in me
Further more, I wish to say
Remind me that I’m still alive
Disturb the sleeping monsters
Please provoke me to survive
You compliment this hypocrite
Attention seeking scum
And help stick out the finger
That outranks the sorest thumb
a poet cries real tears
I am speaking to you
from inside my head
I shake it and out tumbles
words in scrabble pieces
shiny lacquered squares
to build a thought
that will express the what
and where, of my yards of thinking.
Some times it claws and rends
a thundering lion of ideas; anger, hurt
wanting to shred the very existence
of those who lie and cheat
expose their greed and noxious deeds
in a way that all could see
and understand that we are not sheep
who sleep upon a heap of disaster.
Again I shake and springs forth
hope and tears that carry away the anger
clear my vision to see a homeless man
helping some one in greater need
a child looking in awe at Santa Claus
asking, a gift for another
soup kitchen volunteers lining up
to feed the world. all the many
hidden kindnesses that travel
upward across the sky
leaving tiny trails of light and hope.
we do not need more words
we need more people speaking out
more gentle love and understanding
breathe the air take in the hope
do not let those who are dark
with their burden of cynicism
belittle the silver threads of humanity
for no matter how worn the phrase
how ill-used it may be
goodness still exists and will live forever.
GOODNESS WILL TRIUMPH!!!