Best Dismissive Poems
I entered a room
and saw familiar strangers
and knew in an instant
they were me: past lives
made living flesh again.
I saw the fat baby, 38
pounds at one year!
(Poor Momma's back!)
I saw the angel-face boy
of four who spoke only
gibberish-- the doctors
told my parents "Sorry,
but he's an imbecile,
best send him far away."
Lucky for me, Mom And Dad
got a second opinion, and
six years of speech lessons
till I spoke like a happy
little English lord....
Then I saw the teenager--tall,
gaunt of cheek, dismissive of
lesser intellects. I grimaced,
and he sneered: I did not like
him, nor did he like me
(though we both lamented
his forlorn virginity)
Behind him stood a 20 something.
I had filled out by then, handsome,
confident with women, tossing them
aside like used hankies, not knowing
how vast was my emptiness-- not
even knowing I was a blind man
until...I crashed into that fog-
shrouded iceberg called Death.
And Death took me to that terrible
place where my soul burned briefly,
and then, without explaining,
returned me to life.
My soul, which one day I had
not believed in, and the next
I knew to be absolute, had been
seared but my eyes finally opened
and I began to see beyond
this world of pleasure and pain,
hunger and feast, war and peace.
Then I met my married self, and
shared with him the happiest day
of our life, when she said yes
to a man still lacking but at
least now trying. Decades later,
he is still inching closer to God.
-1-
This narrow vein
pulses in red earth
blood of thousands
meanders
through valleys barren
a surface wounded
cries dry tears
down to Iskandariyya (1)
White sails cover
undercurrent
once sun burned
monoliths choke
tide provides
no air for their
drowned lungs
-2-
Where grows papyrus
How can I write
with these reeds
my ancestors' annals
Where is that land
that has my name
displaced
cast out
yesterdays and tomorrows
erased.
-3-
Merciless strangers
hewn mouths in set faces
staccato tongue
dismissive diaspora
White cotton spores blown
in khamaseen (2)
feel their protective shelter
burn
suffocate
(1) Al-Iskandariyya: Alexandria
(2) khamsin: Hot desert wind, blowing from south to north.
***
July 17, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Of Poetic Verse, A Heavenly Illumination
As Seen By Heaven's True Light
Vanity of shallow purple robe kings
Dismissive of Heaven's true saving light
Brutish and naked in darkness they sing
Haughtily shouting of their shallow might.
Robert J. Lindley, 70-?
Quatrain
*******
As Seen By Heaven's Soft Glow
Glittering stars illuminating night
As titans that vanished so long ago
We imagine them in eternal flight
And in distance merely a short stone's throw.
Robert J. Lindley, 70-?
Quatrain
*******
As Seen By Heaven's Beauty
Be softly calm and so quietly still
Let the soft flowing winds hear no sad cries
Tis love that eager heart so truly fills
And Heaven's beauty that graces night skies.
Robert J. Lindley, 70-?
Quatrain
Note: Three quatrains that were born back in the late 70's.
I do so regret whenever I find my old poems
with either no notes or else incomplete notes.
I’m hurting inside with such misery
feeling like death at times
dismissive falling to my knees
Trying so hard to make you happy with love and reflection
dreams now shattered
can’t understand these thoughts inside me
Distortion is fogging my inner complexion
Time seems blissful with every interaction
You think you can buy my love that I hold
relationship ended my love won’t be sold
All I ask for is a simple hello
hurtful responses emitting pain in my soul
Do I still feel the passion as when we first met?
Inept remembrance in that secrecy our love kept
This destructive relationship hurts me so so deep
Never before have I been this oblique
Transgressions aside you know I’ll stay true
Remember that time when I looked in your eyes
exchanging our vows as making promises to you
All that is over now as if it never happened
Our lives were one with love and devotion
now they are nothing
as water ebbs from the ocean
I’m not knowing what to do
can’t hide my emotions
I suppose with time you and I will heal
except with someone else
which will be the second time someone kneeled
Thanks for your grace
your willingness to be true
always remember
that I am always here for you
Be safe in your passage looking up into the night
if you ever need me my dear
I will be there despite
Be safe Be true be everything that makes you be you
One day another will recognize
everything as the things you dream too
An Aquarian Goddess with a wolf power animal
She often keens at the moon, howling her truth
Others are a bit frightened at her confidence.
Being her mother, I understand her spiritual ways.
She is an empath, needing space.
Picking up on emotions of others takes energy
The only way she can live her truth is to push them away.
Some think she is dismissive, cold, stand offish.
They could not be any further from her truth.
She keens and chants and drums her days into submission
Giving them savage glances, to fend them off….
Because she has to get rid of the sad feelings of this earth world
A world she fits not easily into
Being an empath, a clairvoyant, a Goddess of Wolves.
Not who you think I am
6/22/26
By Dustin Branum
I’m not crazy, I’m lost....
I’m not depressed, I’m suppressed....
I’m not lying, I’m selective....
I’m not paranoid, I’m aware....
I’m not high, I’m enlightened....
I’m not weak-minded, I’m indulging....
I’m not hateful, I’m disgusted....
I’m not resentful, I’m resilient....
I’m not angry, I’m expressive....
I’m not wrong, I’m open for the debate....
I’m not picky, I’m exploring my options..
I’m not mad, I’m disappointed....
I’m not rebellious, I’m standing up for what’s right....
I’m not selfish, I’m protecting mine....
I’m not denying, I’m refusing to condone....
I’m not enraged, I’m enslaved....
I’m not unstable, I’m unstoppable....
I’m not delusional, I’m conclusional....
I’m not stupid, I’m far from it....
I’m not deaf, I choose not to listen....
I’m not resisting, I’m refusing to bow down..
I’m not dangerous... to all....
I’m not a con, I’m a prophet....
I’m not dismissive, I’m filtering....
I’m not evil, I’m confused and tired....
I’m not woke, I’m awake....
I’m not okay....
I’m not you, I’m not me no more either....
I’m not accepted, I’m rejected....
I’m not jealous, I’m in envy....
I'm not a psycho, I'm a Scorpio....
I’m not for sale, nor doomed for hell....
I'm not the warden of this jail cell....
GTF
Wizened skin like burnished leather
Thin, grey and long, disheveled hair
Clear, sharp blue eyes that seem to stare
Through sun scorched face, alert, aware
A ‘lived-In’ face that’s so expressive
Tales he tells read like a missive
His arms and hands he flails about
To all he jests, he seems to shout
Belying age with youthful vigour
He starts his day with seeming rigour
But, easy going, he always jokes
With folk at whom, light fun, he pokes
He’s up each morning before the dawn
Striding, planning, never forlorn
Before sunrise you’ll hear with luck
His famous catch-phrase, “Get Tae F***!”
He’s worked on rigs for oh, so long
With everyone he gets along
On the “fine old lady” Stena Clyde
No deference – ALL he does deride
From owner, manager and high paid “suits”
To lowly boys who clean the boots
The tone the same, The grin, the look,
The cheeky laugh, the “Get Tae F***!”
Sub zero frost or tropical heat
His ardour you will find hard to beat
Old habits die hard they say
Not his – he does them anyway!
Does a place exist he’s never been?
That has a port that’s never seen
This tall slim figure filled with pluck
Or heard his raucous, “Get Tae F***!”
They say he’s always been a sailor
From Antarctic wastes upon an ancient whaler
15 years old in the South Atlantic
A hardy life, forget romantic!
Steam driven ships before motor’s advent
He sailed near and far. Came and went.
A story true with each port of call
His audience he holds in thrall
But all through this, both feet aground
Though invitations still abound
To high profile golf tournaments
The best hospitality at these events
He mixes with the best of them
The rich and famous golfing men
Yet on the course when he mis-hits his ball
Not “fore” but G.T.F. to all
And so it seems his time has come
To rest upon his laurels some
He’ll sure be missed – God Speed, Good Luck
It’s been a pleasure Jimmy, “Get Tae F***!”
No dismissive snort from any here
From us, a greeting, a hearty cheer
Received with grace, a smile - a look.
You grin then tell us, “Get Tae F***!”
Neptune must have used as parchment
Mother-of-pearl to inscribe his laws
For he’d richly rewarded the oysters
With an oceanic spa.
So, while seeking calm through deliberation
And enjoying the mud bubbles of my bath
Who should I spy in the distance?
But Calamity trudging up the path.
His foot arched out proud and haughty
Like the neck of a noble steed
As he pulled his crustaceous carriage
At a break-neck snail speed.
The mud began to feel like mortar
As I stonily watched him draw near
That audacious, contemptuous clam
Made my heart cry out with fear.
He passed by slow and haughty
Like an imperious, dismissive sigh
But as my tension began to dissipate
He kicked a mudball at my eye.
I watched warily, his insolent passage
Until he was but a tiny speck of dirt
Knowing I'd formed another pearl of wisdom,
From that impetuous, narcissistic squirt.
Paper bag
Plastic bag
A bag is a bag
Plastic is still being used
And there’s an oxymoron
In that bag
It was business as usual
To lie about doing away with plastic
That is called bombastic
And more sarcastic than an average
Movie being called a classic
So who got the money and who got the shaft?
The consumer fell on the sword
And the money walked away in a mask
Deceiving some but not all
It won’t be long before they all fall
Because eyes are opening every second
And minds are thinking minute by minute
And we are all in it to win it
To put more food in our pots
And more money under key and lock
In the banks that we choose
They’ll continue to behave dismissive and rude
Because deception is the biggest fool
And everything done in the dark
Will come to the light
Now that you’ve been exposed
You’re on display
In clear sight
For all to see
You, you, and you
Peek-a-boo we’re watching you
THE HATE YOU GIVE
By: Sikolwethu Mthethwa
Shed a tear for the kids who never had a compassionate witness to all their pain
Caregivers quick to label them dramatic or insane
Shed another tear for kids whose attempts to impress their guardians were in vain
So they Decided to curl up and "stay in their lane"
Without empathy and compassion can we be sensitive to the pain of others?
A strong message to the dismissive mothers and fathers
Nothing is more dangerous than a child that wonders:
"Do my parents even love me? "
"Why does everyone else seem to be above me? "
Thoughts that leave em broken and insecure
Dont ever be too busy to ask if they're okay until you're sure.
Coz neglect pierces the spirit to very the core
And if you spot withdrawal
Keep the suspense of drug use at a minimal
Do away with blaming outside influence
Rush to the rescue before they lose their innocence
Approach swiftly but softly
Be sincere and immerse yourself wholly
In the struggles and pain of your child
Know that to them their struggles are anything but mild
Listen actively without passing harsh judgments
Your words of comfort are never to be just cold statements
Be tender and gentle
For your aim should be to mend and not dismantle
In your presence your child should feel secure
Smother them with unconditional love until their heart is no longer sore
With goodness in their heart They will once again be pure
Know that a parent can always do more
To support, love and guide their kids as they grow
For nothing compensates for consistent emotional support...
Anne
Your words pierce me like the dagger of my demise
The cold neglect burns hot against my flesh
Scarring the heart of lonely discarded dreams.
Your words clank across sharp teeth, icy and dismissive of my worth
Priceless are the treasures of life; would you call me your treasure?
Your unspoken words stand like a wall tower to the heavens
Unpenetreble by tender longings of a girls heart
To be safe, loved and cherished has passed me by
I shall fade away a little each day
I shall see who notices, let me hide; will you seek me?
Do I remember you? do I remember love?
09/10/2015 by Doris Ann Kendrick Culverhouse
Nightmares of the potential I wasted haunt me at night.
Repeats of the old me cut deeper than a sword.
And when I ask for help, I often get ignored.
If I speak on my true feelings, I'll be told that I'm too sensitive
No, everyone is too dismissive
While I feel casted into a pit of anger.
no one to vent to so my emotions are spilling over.
I can never get it right, its like either im over or im under
I'm too smart to realize how dumb I am
I lack the ability to find the motivation to uplift myself
because everytime someone else has a problem
I forget myself
I dismiss myself
But when im lying in my bed on my face crying
All I got is myself.
So what is it like when you’re dancing with God?
Well, my friends you’ve been doing it all of your life
Though you might never guess it, He’s quite a good leader,
His skills as a teacher need no cattle prod.
In all of our lessons I’ve never been blamed
Although there have been days I conspired to skip school.
And yes, many were times that I never did thank Him
Yet my growing skills almost always acclaimed.
So subtle His presence that sometimes I swear
All embarrassment passes like fart in the wind
And the knowledge that He’s always right there beside me
Affords me no doubt that I’m safe in His care.
Our heavenly Father’s not like your real dad
For He’s never dismissive and always has time
And the warmth of His smile stirs my heart like a lover
Not once has He punished me when I am bad.
I know there are some souls afraid of God’s wrath
But they must not be listening, God is just love
And the pain that they find really born of their choosing,
Ignoring the signs that God posts on their path!
So brothers and sisters attend what I say
If you need to find misery God’s a mistake
While the minions of Satan will tirelessly flog you,
Should you enjoy dancing then come out and play.
Brian Johnston
October 7, 2015
Opening tenderly my eyes,
my first cry echoes all around;
I extend my arms for an embrace,
An unwelcome reception is all that I
get.
.....I should have known.
Juggling studies and the chores,
my efforts yield as much as they can;
I outdo myself expecting an
encouragement,
Unenthusiastic remarks is all that I
get.
.....I should have known.
Aspiring to be successful in life,
my hardwork is sure to accomplish
my dreams;
I try to convince people of what I can
do,
Dismissive criticism is all that I get.
.....I should have known.
I should have known all my life,
In vain would be the expectation and
regret;
I would brace and hone myself
instead,
So that some day....... appreciation
and praise is all that I get.
I was a highwayman, a mercenary,
For my own moral fibre and future happiness,
But they interfaced me with religion and tradition,
Which offset my deep contentedness.
They had a different crux from me,
Which upset my balance and control,
Made me think that I was lost,
In a world with no death toll.
Pluralistic teachers and carers,
Make for broad minded, accepting kids,
Not dismissive scaremonger’s,
Of those with people values and bids.
God may be a concept in our society,
But he’s a people conjecture benign;
Your projection makes a difference,
Gives the outcast and deacon the sign.
School should not be certified,
By religion’s insipid breath and touch,
But should be monitored for the exclusion,
Of minorities with no god as such.