Best Degrading Poems
Your words,
are projectiles
dripping with Arsenic
and aimed at my heart
spitting out darts and swords
that expertly find their mark
and draw blood
Your words,
when aimed at others
are carried by Pixies
and sprinkled
with honey and sugar coatings
that melt in their ears
and taste of confection
Your words,
cloak me in pain and guilt
for undone atrocities
and imagined factors
as your blame
riddles my soul
causing it to
prune, wither, and crust
Your words,
accusing, spiteful, degrading, malicious
paintings of what I once thought
was an indestructible bond of Love
that no one
should be able to destroy
and yet
you do so
with your words.
I've no soul left
no appetite for your touch
no desire to want for anything
except
to become deaf
so I will no longer
have to listen to
your words
Categories:
degrading, confusion, introspection, life,
Form:
Free verse
Help me burn this skin
I can’t believe all the hollow lies I’ve burnt in
It’s as if there’s a special place in hell
For the sins that I have held
I’ve betrayed the innocence of what I used to be
It’s so funny to realize how perspective changes everything
We keep lying to ourselves and blame it on anything, on anything
Feeding off of drama like a parasite feeds on blood of death
We kill ourselves from the inside just to be like the rest
Help me burn this skin
I can’t believe all the hollow lies I’ve burnt in
It’s as if there’s a special place in hell
For the sins that I have held
I’ve betrayed the innocence of what I used to be
Men use love just to get sexual pleasure
Degrading beauty, we slowly lose our treasure
Women giving themselves away to be loved
Yet they still get disposed of
God, what have we done
Please take us back to where we begun
Help me burn this skin
I can’t believe all the hollow lies I’ve burnt in
It’s as if there’s a special place in hell
For the sins that I have held
I’ve betrayed the innocence of what I used to be
God, I’m screaming out for you
In a world of pain, I thirst for truth
I beg for more, for more than this
I’ve lived life in the worst abyss
I need my Father’s embrace
I need to be saved by grace
Categories:
degrading, christian, lust, sin, perspective,
Form:
Lyric
You may see me out on the streets
Lying curled up in a foetal position my sleeping bag in a shop doorway
Trying to get a few hours sleep here in my latest home in cardboard city …
I never stay more than a few nights in one place
can never really settle; these streets aren’t safe
You may see me out on the streets
I’m sitting on the cold damp pavement with an empty coffee cup in my hand
Hoping for a coin or two so I can have some real food in my aching belly
Still you hurry past, trying to avoid making eye contact…
Believe me, it’s so degrading rummaging in the litter bins like a wild animal
But some days it’s the only way I can get any food to eat
The biting cold and wet weather is my worst enemy
I can never get warm even when the sun shines
This is no life, just a way of surviving another day
Guess you think I’m a waster, a dirty tramp
You walk on by; judge me without knowing what lead me to life on the streets
Bet you think I’m a druggie or an alcoholic
I guess most people seem to think that
They see my filthy clothes, straggly hair and grey beard
Just five years ago I was like many of you
I had a career, a beautiful wife, and two lovely children
Spent many months away from home fighting for my country
But then I got sent to Afghanistan…
I saw scenes no man should ever have to witness
I was traumatised
Forever suffering flashbacks of the faces of those innocent people
The children, oh those children – made me think of my two boys back at home
I couldn’t cope any more, had a total mental breakdown
I was a broken man …
My wife could no longer deal with the mood swings , the erratic behaviour
The Army did little to help –
discharged me on health grounds, then basically abandoned me
Now I’ve lost everything … my wife, family, my dignity
Many of the people you see on the streets are like me …
We all have a story to tell, but no one gives us the time of day
Passers-by avert their eyes and hurry past like we are invisible
Your eyes may tell you one thing… but please don’t judge me
Because you don’t know me
Categories:
degrading, career, drug, identity, life,
Form:
Free verse
They place my vowel
Under barren landscape
Sipping from cracked porcelain cup
Of an alienated heartbeat
Devilish grins
Slapping Karma’s bottom,
A quarterback’s misguided win
Liar’s prophetic retinas glaze
With metric, disciplinary ruler
They place my consolidated lyric
On upper hand
Of cubic zirconium petulance
Their torn, lanolin coated tissue
Degrading polyester embedded uniform
Mislead by “savior’s” belief
A desolate embodiment of character
They observe me
With cherry coated pupils
Through rusty, iron bars
Its frosty echoes
Portraying fickle sonatas in these stale winds
Yet,
My ambient tear
Is simply a hoax for their recycled victory
Holding wooden spoon against my waist
Ready to crawl
©Drake J. Eszes
Categories:
degrading, judgement, life, metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
The Punching Bag - Through the Eyes of a Child
Each day the pattern was the same,
for all Dad’s shortcomings, my Mom got the blame.
WHACK! He cursed her for all his lost dreams…
WHACK! For missed opportunities, and failed schemes.
WHACK! Dad would hit his punching bag again,
to release all his pent-up frustration and pain.
When he felt inadequate and couldn’t cope with life,
he resorted to battering Mom, his “beloved” wife.
Of course, it was always her fault that things were bad;
so he made her suffer for all the troubles he had.
Inflicting her with insults, black-eyes, concussions, and cuts,
he claimed that she deserved them because she was like all sluts.
Craftily he played on her bully-enforced meekness,
getting down on his knees to beg for her forgiveness.
Moods swinging like a pendulum from night to day,
his promises were empty - he would never change his vile ways.
Predictably, he continued to torment her as he pleased,
degrading and abusing her…he never ceased.
He figured low self-esteem would prevent Mom from leaving;
and that she was a nobody, he really had her believing.
He was oh so convinced that needed audacity she lacked,
to ever think of opposing him, or of fighting him back.
Besides, with no family around, no job, and no dough,
he smugly concluded that she had no place else to go.
God knows she was weary of existing in this hell on earth;
and I was tired of seeing her endure all that unbearable hurt.
I had had enough of being terrified by that despicable monster,
who had ruined her and made our lives an utter disaster.
After convincing Mom that inevitably I’d suffer the same fate,
one night, we finally escaped to a shelter before it was too late.
*** Note: Thank God, nothing like this ever happened to me. But this piece is dedicated to those many women and their children who are victims of domestic violence.
08-31-2015
Contest: Through the Eyes of a Child
Sponsor:
Placement: 2nd
Categories:
degrading, abuse, hurt, violence,
Form:
Rhyme
Cessation the love
Household has been scattered
When love lost
Humming in the community
Malicious gossip in the society
Disorder in the society
Degrading the society
Society has been scattered
When love lost
Humming in the state
Malevolent rumour in the state
As the day chameleon to night
Insomnia in state
Peace elude state
State has been scattered
When love lost
Mystery to nation
When love lost
Oh! It is a dream
Why do we stop loving
While love exist
Love is above all existent
Categories:
degrading, absence, abuse, addiction, adventure,
Form:
Epic
Falling forever through time, lonely hearts cascading…
Calling echoes of ringing chime, vibes of love fading…
Crawling tears facing crime, of dark streets invading…
Exhaling breaths chasing climb, vertical voices escaping…
Appalling words making rhyme, of thoughts are degrading...
Hauling hearts wasted prime, amidst many loves parading.
…this verse can be read backward…
Echoes Heartless
Cascading hearts lonely, time through forever falling...
Fading love of vibes chime, ringing of echoes calling...
Invading streets dark of crime, facing tears crawling...
Escaping voices vertical climb, chasing breaths exhaling...
Degrading are thoughts of rhyme, making words appalling...
Parading loves many, amidst prime wasted hearts hauling.
June.27.2020
Triple Rhyme
Sponsored by: Beth Evans
Placed 1'st...Thank You
Categories:
degrading, emotions, feelings, loneliness,
Form:
Rhyme
Finally you asked for dog’s point of view -
The dialogue of depth, long overdue.
Without a word I’m whistling in the dark,
Articulation’s muffled by the bark.
Seems all I need is to frolic and play,
It’s true, but man! I have a lot to say!
Firstly, thank you for making my dog’s life
Domesticated bliss versus tramp’s strife.
Grateful I am, loved, trimmed, walked, bathed and fed,
Well-groomed and I would like to think, well-bred.
Anatomy and science, not my strength,
Honored that pampering goes to great length;
I must be one exquisite species group,
Since my poop is collected in a scoop.
But I often question, why am I spayed?
While my master so frequently gets laid!
If deemed as your best friend, a well-known claim,
Isn’t making me beg for treats a shame?
Sit down, shake your paw, play dead, dance and prance –
Shallow, degrading, ludicrous commands.
For you I’d sacrifice my life, my friend,
I’d snarl, chase, leap and tackle to no end.
I pretty much follow one petsy rule -
You got the bone, thus over you I drool.
But, master, while I’m fetching your thrown sticks,
Don’t waste your time teaching old dog new tricks.
Be aware I’m an easy pet to crack!
If you love me, I’ll always love you back!
June 6, 2022
Categories:
degrading, animal, dog, pets,
Form:
Personification
Ouch! They cause pain whether
from human or cat.
Words can be claw-like when
attacking an opponent's back.
Being swift, cruel and degrading,
Is the clarion call of our generation.
The smallest of souls have violent mouths.
Souls in people with character can hold their own,
During harangues and deceitful, vicious onslaughts.
I need not mention who I am speaking of.
Just wish they remember they were all made by God.
And one day each of them like us,
Will be buried under the dark,
stillness of God's eternal sod.
June 29, 2019
7pm PST
Categories:
degrading, america,
Form:
Free verse
I'am brown, never been black, never been down.
Being called black, is a deep, dark, degrading name,
that another man gave us, while our ancestor's were still chained.
I'am brown, for the simple reason, that when the weather changes,
my skin don't change, with the season. I might turn darker, by
getting a tan, but when another man buy's one, does that make
him a black man.? Being called black, for many of years, didn't
change nothing, through hard work, sweat and tears. It simply
made you a color, not your choice, but put you in a situation,
without a true voice. Only God can judge, all of our true colors,
until then, one man's color, shouldn't be judged, by another.
Categories:
degrading, black african american, inspirational,
Form:
She came down from above.
Through the wind and the rain.
All she carried was love.
She stood tall.
As she took it all.
This day was bound.
Death was always near.
Wanted to carry the flames.
If she make's it through.
This concrete life of pain.
She'll see butterflies, not tears.
I know she has angels near her.
They'd like to take her home.
Though she chooses to stay here.
I see her delicate fluttering wings.
Of flaming silver, blue and gold.
She must learn to use them.
That's all it will take, for her to fly.
From this perverted degrading place.
6pm 5/7/2012
Categories:
degrading, abuse, angel, courage,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
My dark skin is beautiful
My nappy hair is styled with care
That is my view of natural features
Blessed I am, to share
Time travel to another place
Kings and queens have a similar face
So why I am forced to face degrading images
skin-bleached relatives and mind-shackled people
who think that their dark skin, nappy hair
is something to be traded
that it is jaded
Confused thoughts
Lead people to self hatred
not only for themselves
but for anyone wearing the darkening pigment
And why the confusion?
Because we of dark complexion
and finely curled hair
must be daft, be fool
be anything but intellectual and schooled
Don't you see how we have been fooled?..
Take a look
Look deep in the mirror
See what you uncover
Beneath bewildered stares at your hair
Turnt up noses at your clothes
Beneath all the physical woes
See the King, the Queen
ready, waiting to claim the throne
Categories:
degrading, beauty, body, color, courage,
Form:
Free verse
Demeaning, degrading this is how you feel about your situation
Eating away at the person you once were
Memory short term, yours is decreasing at an alarming pace
Embarrassed when you can’t remember someone you knew well
No longer able to do the things you once so enjoyed
Time means nothing now as more frequently you live in the past,
Imagination plays tricks but the things you see and hear aren’t real
All I wish is I could have you back as you once were
Written 7th March 2014
Categories:
degrading, emotions, memory, mother daughter,
Form:
Acrostic
"The Value of Reading"
messages impressed
upon the secret keepers.
when is late too late?
to divulge the truth?
"I know this is a shock"
arrives far too late
when it is anticipated
by the writer pundit
keeping tabs
on runnaway horses
trained at the gate
tokens laid for bets.
what then sister?
if all should go awry?
the next caller phones
and relays, it is you,
so-and-so, who has
passed away today,
chemo didn’t save
the day.
"I know this is a shock,"
the other says,
"Love you, call me
when you want,"
breezily relayed
"here if you need,
call me
when you want";
but you, so-and-so
are already gone.
cruel deception
closed doors
on all that was
once close,
always true, forever
standing ground,
turned away.
betrayal keeps close
its cruel deceits
for untrue stories
buried deep.
cruel keeper of secrets
what cloistered
confessional opens
its sorry doors?
to understand
you, the you
who utterly
shamed and ignored.
LOVE
delivers
the
the truth
without delay.
Christmases,
Easters,
graduations,
birthdays,
two lives,
adequately
destroyed
r.i.p.
today.
cloudy
messages
adroitly
employed:
LOVE
came,
it considered all,
not once did it turn
away.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
"I will not adopt that ungenerous and impolitic custom so common with novel-writers, of degrading by their contemptuous censure the very performances, to the number of which they are themselves adding—joining with their greatest enemies in bestowing the harshest epithets on such works, and scarcely ever permitting them to be read by their own heroine, who, if she accidentally take up a novel, is sure to turn over its insipid pages with disgust. Alas! If the heroine of one novel be not patronized by the heroine of another, from whom can she expect protection and regard? I cannot approve of it."
betrayal, lies, deceit, trust, books, death, loss, mirror, silence, sister, love
Categories:
degrading, betrayal, books, death, loss,
Form:
Narrative
He stands before us
to deliver
a poem, a prose, a
verse a rhyme, or message.
His manner quite
manifesting,
and his confidence
puts the crowd at
ease.
Soon and very soon,
too soon- we loath
him.
There is
too much cluster on
his magniloquent,
vine, of strung
together
words without
substance.
Though the use of
an, apophasis
gives poetic license
to insult.
we loathe him
instantly.
The silver-tongued
orator's
brilliance, soon
becomes wearisome.
While the mute
articulate points of
his eccentric
ramblings lead us
to dead ends.
Unfulfilled and
burdened.
We now loath him.
The loathsome Bard
goes on to rant
about, degrading
and dissolute issues
of life, which we
felt the
Bard had not
concern.
His bombast
delivery,
to some appears
eloquent,
grand-stand
language, bellowed
out quite grandiloquently
.
Wordy vagaries,
leading us nowhere.
As we listen to the
of his charades, we
loathe him.
Though quite colorful
and pompous; He leave
us in shambles, brains all
scrambled and we
loathe him.
The once brilliant
verse, though
well-rehearsed,
becomes wearisome.!
The Bard,
went not in hard;
We the discombobulated,
pray aloud, “next poet
please Lord".!
We all were relieved
as he finally did
leave, because he looked
better going than
coming.
With our intellect
he was toying,
though the Bard was not
hard!
Most certainly;
He was annoying!
Categories:
degrading, funny, humorous, imagery,
Form:
Limerick