Best Belittling Poems
BECAUSE OF JUST ONE POETESS
I let go of living in sadness.
My life seemed going nowhere,
and looking back now, it all
seemed like madness!
It wasn't because she did
gymnastics with boorish
poetic forms.
Nor was she cute or wordy.
using only the shortest
forms.
I was in search for something
far deeper that healed me with
human warmth and a soul balm.
Best of all, through her, I was
to learn to waltz happily with
shadows of my past!
And to know that love seems
to end, but I found contrarily it,
in another form, always lasts.
BECAUSE OF JUST ONE POETESS
I kept coming back to read her
at the Soup.
And, finally,after a number of
months,
I concluded to sign up and
express myself with my freshman,
weak pen.
I used to write the saddest poetry,
before I came here.
I try now to stay away from poets
who hate my country, or get joy out
of living in lost love or sadness.
And to avoid all who laugh at and
demean myself!
Belittling others in a poem, creates
and furthers world madness.
BECAUSE OF JUST ONE POETESS
Indeed my days have transformed
from gloom to splendiferous gladness.
No hopelessness nor grief can
fingerprint my life any longer.
And in the days to come, may
my words become far stronger.
BECAUSE OF JUST ONE POETESS!
**Her name is known best to the
the humblest of the twinkling
stars and God's ears**
With affection and thanks~
Be strong in your beliefs and opinions
Give and receive them respectfully
Discuss , debate, disagree ,
Devoid of anger and intimidation
Be polite and behave graciously
Don’t try and change opinions
Or what others believe
With intimidation and insults
Just amicably disagree
Why the desire to be hurtful
Trying to out-speak and outdo
Using sarcasm just to be heard
Desperate for control and that final word
Stop being childish and hateful
Bullying is not a game
Spewing ugly vindictive words
Is not the way to make positive change
Insecurities play a part with bullies
Due to lack of self worth and self esteem
Feeling stronger in who they are
When humiliating and simply being mean
Strive for a better way
Strive for a more positive you
There are no wrongs or rights
Just different points of view
Try kindness and compassion
Seek qualities in your fellow mankind
Don’t engage in belittling interactions
Igniting troubled minds
Life is not a competition
A constant game of tit for tat
Being confrontational and critical
Is not the way decent humans act
You have created your own personal battle field
Fuelled by antagonism and controversy
It must be so emotionally draining
Being consumed with malice and negativity
This is a parody of "I can't Dance." by Genesis.
Metaphor junkies
spewing their dung
actin all holy
like they've written in tounges...
Can anybody
interpret that (Bleep)
explain the poems meaning
with a comment that fits...
Then say, I can't write
or compose
demi-gods are out there
always breaking my (Bleeps...)
They say, I can't write
or compose
so I'm just sittin here typin anything...
Contests
really tickle a muse
seems the hosts
and poet are truly confused...
A muse ain't fickle
just knows what it likes
if you can't relate
then yours may take a hike...
They say, I can't write
or compose
tappin on this keyboard
till my fingers are numb...
They say I can't write
or compose
so I'm just sittin here typin anything...
Metaphor groupies
bow to the ground
ain't got a clue
of what the poem expounds...
But it's got image
and metaphors too
though I've seen better
on the walls of a loo...
They say, I can't write
or compose
everything I pen
is either weak or cliche...
Yeah I can't write
or compose
so I'm just sittin here typin...
Yeah I try to make it right...
Put the verbiage, in its proper place...
~Note~
I also write on another site as RunningWolves . On that site there some really rude poets who think they are Gods gift to humanity. They think everything they write is a masterpiece and are not shy about belittling people who's comments on their work aren't good enough for them. So, I wrote this for them.
So this has nothing to do with anyone on PoetrySoup.
See, I never claimed to be a poet, nor to have anything that even remotely resembles talent. I am just an simple guy playing at poet. anything I do that even seems like a talent is really just God's way of keeping me from making a total fool of myself... I guess you could say its on loan from God... Thank you!
7/9/20
"Sickening"
This is sickening
And quickening
Not at all, what I was envisioning
Nobody listening
Most chickening
Fidgeting
And limiting
Themselves to the point of being crippling
The effects rippling
And tripling
On top of it, we've got social distancing
Still dribbling
I've been chiseling
And scribbling
No matter what has been incoming
Pivoting
And occasionally grimacing
The temperature freezing, cold, mild or sizzling
The weather icy, windy, calm, scorching or drizzling
Clowns continue giggling
Petty people are still belittling
Over every little thing
Not all that riveting
It's becoming uninteresting
Sometimes I sip, sometimes I swig
Sometimes I flip the script
Even though sometimes it's rigged
Before opportunities are shriveling
And dwindling
Got to get it quickly
And differently
Meanwhile all senses are tingling
ORIGINS
Winter’s shroud
Urges meditation
Adornment so scant only
Heaven’s light to cheer the lonely
In springtime though
Peeping buds awaken
Tiny origins thrust
Ease one’s contemplation
Tulips germinate
Sans nature’s later flow
And mind’s eye gravitates
To roiling roots below
Spring’s full blown riot
Must pose eyeful question
But a moment chime perhaps
Soul’s true direction
Is such splendid array
A vein traveling invitation
To some hidden house
Of God’s creation?
Alas belittling mortal speculation
Winter’s origin winter’s shroud –
She sleeps sleeps as needed
By all of nature’s crowd
Dave Austin
I had not been on another poetry site even a week
And l had already crossed paths with a bully
A self appointed “Professor of Poetry” it seems
Who spewed out rude comments regularly
Now, I don’t know your name
So I will call you Richard
(DICK for short!)
Insulting and belittling
Others poems and effort
Is not called advice or support!
Now DICK, some of us just like to write poems
Simple though that may be
Not for judgement or accolades
Just for the joy of poetry
Being hurtful , rude and insensitive
Arrogant, intimidating and just unkind
Does not make you knowledgeable or gifted
Or a poet of any kind
DICK ….your words have no impact on me
I am strong and your words meaningless and weak
My concern is for the young or vulnerable
Who may be affected or scarred by this garbage you speak
DICK ….. I suspect you think you are superior
Intelligent and of a better class
But DICK I think you are doing a handstand
And talking out your ar*e
Who gave you the right to be so judgemental
To think it’s ok to humiliate and be cruel
DICK you just make yourself look like
An absolute DICK fool …..
II
And did his rash actions give this prince
Cause, in moments of troubling quietude,
To ruefully ponder on all which could not
Be rewound?
A lamentable lack of honourableness and
Uncemented fortitude
Which brought those crashing towers down;
An inevitability borne from the desperation
Of his passions...
So unlike her own desperate passions contained
Inside the hapless extremities of a single gaze.
Her obvious compliance; the tawdriness of this
Sordid contract enabling an old-fashioned
Demand for dutiful obedience...but still betrayed
By a resigned sort of hopelessness. The futility of a
Guilt; his schoolboy-pawing of the tensioned strap;
Your revulsion; his constant bolstering...the
Belittling with that inane, maddening, witless chat.
For 15 years I have tolerated,
calculated, anticipated, sublimated workplace degradations, derisions,
subversions towards my character,
not today, no more,
yes, my pride has become livid, swollen like a bad bruise on the heart
and I apologize not for my self defense & righteous roil,
I will address you as the mean spirited scoundrels that you are,
no more 'boss - employee' boundry, just one human to another,
No fascade & title to prance behind, no longer above reproach from the lesser,
you are now entering the shock of the 'dead-fall' ,
buck you and your low wages, buck you and your perfect policies,
buck you and your work ethic 'mumbo jumbo',
buck you and the lame insults and false criticisms perpetrated
against my innocence and motivation,
buck you with your attempts to undermine my positive leadership,
buck you and your inconsistent hours
making a God damn yoyo out of me, buck you and your bonuses,
buck you and your preposterous training videos and ridiculous high school uniforms,
buck you and the belittling psychological questionniares connected to your applications,
buck you and your little managerial conclaves
which produce absurd machinations targeting the hourly employees
that make the place profitable,
wipe your cracks with your silly 'write ups' and legal circumspection bull-slit,
I am not your 'bro.' or 'buddy' , and I sure as shout am not your 'honey' ,
not today, not anymore
I will not allow you to treat me as a tool for your benefit,
I will no longer work faster so that you can save money & leave earlier,
you will no longer be permitted to laugh at me without redress,
you are now dealing with a Man, not just another employee number,
don't worry 'boss', I'll continue to work, I'm not gonna 'quit' ,
but I will not work for you, I am going to work with you,
today is a New Day -
J.A.B. Dedicated to all hard working Men and Women -
In the office, he smiles so charmingly.
Saying and doing all the right things,
he puts all his female patients completely at ease.
Even the women hard to please return to him,
for he is famous for his bedside manner.
He surrounds himself with a staff of beautiful nurses
who rush eagerly to his aid when he needs them.
Each of them, whether single or not,
imagines herself with him and how it would be
to be alone with him, aboard his fancy yacht
submerged in the mesmerizing gaze
of his warm hazel eyes.
In the evening he goes home to his wife,
a lovely though docile woman, fragile like a flower.
Immediately on seeing her, he starts in
with his usual barrage of complaints,
belittling her and poking fun at her homemaking skills,
the dinners she has waiting for him, her style of dress,
and every minor physical flaw she might possess.
She accepts it all with her pretty blonde head bowed
like that of a wilted lily,
for she knows that to oppose him
will only result in a more tangible type of abuse,
and he is always careful when he hurts her.
Doctor that he is, he knows well to leave no marks.
She retires quietly to bed,
worried little about any sexual advances toward her.
Although she longs for the touch of a man,
she is grateful to be left alone by her spouse.
Meanwhile, with liquor in hand,
he’s gone into the den, shutting the door behind himself.
Logged on as Mr. Hyde at his favorite website,
he peruses the myriads of Adonises available,
peering salaciously at each nude explicit photo
with wide hungry hazel eyes taking in every little detail
as he plans his next big adventure out of town
and fantasizes trysts on his fancy private yacht
with the sexiest of the men that he can solicit.
posted 2/21/12
Submitted 9/23/22 For One From The Dark Side Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
You stung me with your waspish words
Injecting poison into my very soul
Again and again with those stinging syllables
Your words buzzed around my brain
Still you flew in and continued your scathing attack
It all came so easily to you
Viscous vitriol freely flows from your foul mouth
Deeper and deeper the venom seeps
You just stood there laughing at me
Continuing the little jibes and digs
Constantly belittling me
Criticising the way I look.
Mocking everything I say and do
Telling me I’m useless
The only thing you could never find fault with was my cooking -
I trained as a cordon bleu chef
My tears no longer flow
They have dried up like my self-confidence
Finally I can take no more
So I’ve cooked up a tasty little treat for you
Added my own special spice to your curry
I sprinkled flaked almonds on the top
They should mask the taste of the cyanide
Bon Appetite!
Dark and Twisted Contest Sponsored by Nathan D
09~21~15
The Lying Tongue
sang a song
The Flattering Tongue
played along
The Know It All Tongue
intended the composition
The Meddling Tongue
held it's position
The Harsh Tongue
kept quiet for once
The Tactless Tongue
reluctantly obliged
The Rude Tongue
got annoyed
The Loquatious Tongue
was soon overjoyed
The Discouraging Tongue
hummed on
The Self-Depreciating Tongue
became withdrawn
The Argumentative Tongue
thought it all wrong
The Boasting Tongue
thought it right on
The Hasty Tongue
felt it was contrite
The Discouraging Tongue
and all this singing
The Indiscreet Tongue's
awkward whistling
The Complaining Tongue's
plodding drone
The Cursing Tongue
let out a no-no moan
The Judgemental Tongue
liked that a lot
The Self-Absorbed Tongue
rolled it's eyes
The Retaliating Tongue
held out a hat
The Intimadating Tongue
offered a prize
The Cynical Tongue
just laughed
The Accusing Tongue
choreographed
The Gossiping Tongue
signed autographs
The Doughting Tongue
crooned the refrain
The Accusing tongue
blasted the blame
The Hasty Tongue
fanned the flames
So the Belittling Tongue
dismissed the party
The Devisive Tongue
composed the ending
And the Silent Tongue
looked on.
* All tongues borrowed from
"Gosh, you're such a freak."
"Did you wake up that ugly?"
You say to me.
It has become a daily ritual that we partake in.
You say what comes to that cruel,
unsympathetic mind.
And I sit,
listening,
telling myself I'll be home soon.
Just a few more hours.
Not the rest of my life.
"Must be hard to look in the mirror. Is it cracked by now? You're a monster."
You laugh.
I slide further into my desk,
waiting for you to leave, as you usually do.
I never look up,
too afraid to make eye contact.
That'd be too personal.
Yet you always find a way to get eye level with me so I can see the anger in your eyes;
masked is hurt, maybe,
pain from your own life as if belittling me helps any.
"Tomorrow. Same time as usual. Don't get any more beautiful on me."
You say, clearly kidding.
You finally walk away.
I exhale out,
letting the air I've been holding in escape.
I sigh and get up to leave.
Whatever I'm feeling I push down inside,
just like any other day.
I can't break.
Not now, not here.
I go home and head to my room.
Once there, I can feel.
Fear and frustration, cross my mind first.
Anger and agony, follow.
Sorrow and sadness, next.
Then come the tears.
Warm as they may be, they do nothing to warm my heart.
The words of the day always find a way to my memory.
Ugly,
freak,
monster.
Today was a mild day,
most are worst.
The tears continue for an hour,
tissues fill my bed.
Then they stop and I go on about my night,
always anticipating tomorrow.
The next day is the same.
Different day, similar names.
Hideous,
midget,
elf.
I try to feel nothing, but today I feel bitter.
Years of torment have changed me.
Allowed me to remain quiet inside until I want to feel.
At the end of of the day,
as we normally would part ways you ask,
"Why don't you just kill yourself?"
For once I look up,
"But I'm already dead."
Bang, there goes another.
Another life, another meaning,
Gone. Gone like the rain in the desert
Never to return.
It’s the sad truth that our children
Our teenagers
Cannot live in harmony together on our Earth.
We turn to the isolation.
To the pain.
To the self-hatred and the bitterness.
But what do we gain?
Our lives are not statistics.
We do not deserve this belittling
We do not deserve this treatment.
And yet we still take it all in stride.
We fall and we fall but it never seems to end.
And so we take everyone down with us in the long run.
When will we learn to grab hold,
and stop this incessant falling,
this constant drowning in our thoughts, in the shouting words of others?
Bang, there goes another.
A lost purpose, a lonely child.
Never to see themselves better than the ugly words of others
ever again.
Not to belittle the real Church of God
Not to belittle the real benefits of communion
Not to belittle kneeling and praying for a miracle
Not to belittle the laying of hands
Not to belittle a good bear hug
Not to belittle the hope of Christ’s return
Not to belittle the Wrath of God
Not to belittle the trials and tribulations of living
Not to belittle delusions of grandeur
Not to belittle the pain I feel
Not to belittle wars and rumors of wars
Not to belittle Global warming
Not to belittle the great I AM
Not to belittle the prophets of the Ages
Not to belittle Buddha’s nonthought philosophy
Not to belittle fairies in the flowers
Not to belittle the sounds that Whale’s make
Not to belittle the awe of a perfect Sunrise or Sunset
Not to belittle the Man in the Moon
Not to belittle Black Holes, Quasars and the immensity of the Universe
Not to belittle microorganisms and viruses
Not to belittle the glorious honey bee’s make
Not to belittle the missing books in the Bible that women wrote
Not to belittle the tear that trickles down my left eye
Not to belittle sin and its impact on the human soul
Not to belittle other people’s pain
Not to belittle our belief that aliens are real
Not to belittle my cat’s purring
Not to belittle my neighbor’s beautiful lawn
Not to belittle Superstar's getting rich, they deserve it
Not to belittle being just a pawn
Not to belittle the atrocities committed by Man
Not to belittle feeling so alone in the Universe
Not to belittle the pheromones of truth
Not to belittle that The End is always near
Not to belittle truth from the mouth of babes
Not to belittle Bhai's attempt to unite religions
Not to belittle the Sufi’s dance
Not to belittle the Witch’s brew
Not to belittle the Medicine of the Drum
Not to belittle my belief in Pan
Not to belittle the Heavy Metal screams
Not to belittle pipe dreams and cold sweats
Not to belittle the glow worm’s glow
Not to belittle the lion’s roar
Not to belittle when the earth quakes
Not to belittle when volcano’s blow
Not to belittle my belittling thots
but Poetry Church is all I got.
It all begins in the darkest part of our empty souls.
When we realize we won't or can't possibly reach our goal.
We gnash out bloodied teeth, crying to a crimson sky,
Lashing out..... "Why, why, why?"
So we bring out our heavy clubs and our iron chains.
And just like Nazis kill people with our words and ignorant
quills and propagandized brains.
There's not a scintilla of humor whatsover involved in this.
Just knives, cruel words and even our baseball bats and fists.
Keep reading and listening to hateful words and soon they
are your own.
The grass you walk on turns to broken glass, your hateful
words become shards that you cannot disown.
Making fun of others or belittling them to mere nothings?
Is one Hall of Fame to save ourselves from and find positive
moorings and dockings.
To take the gift of poetry and turn it into a hapless mockery?
Is surely is no show of goodness, humanity, nor is it poetic gallantry.
~*~*~*~
Exodus23:1 "You shall not circulate a false report.
Do not put your hand with the wicked to be an
unrighteousness witness.
No matter who originates the accusation, we should
not repeat and spread it."
Lots of people in the Bible have been innocently accused
and since.
*It goes on daily on the Internet and so called news sources*
~*~*~*~
February 2, 2020
7am PST