Best Downgrade Poems
You ever love someone
Person you knew you never could have
And your heart will keep beating
So you feel so sad
And you wonder within yourself
To Revelations ever prosper
Are you downgrade yourself
By saying you have nothing to offer
So what are you looking for
Who are you purposely ignoring
There's a message got your blessing
But the one you ignore is for you
The one you say no to there for you
The one who you least expect is for you
Careful you're looking at them and their purpose for you
3/19/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
The walk down freshly gravel road
kicking up stones seeing how far they roll.
Note a huge ox cart pulling heavy load
of dried kindling and dark black coal.
The ox cart struggles over new laid stone
with its immensely oversized cart lade.
Oxen soon tire as they heave and moan
kicking up stones on the downgrade.
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
I am who I am
Were you to ask where I’m from my past my tale my next of kin
the answer lies in who tells my narrative my twist what kind of spin
My autobiography is quickly shown in who I am will be in time
past present future blend in context and contingency overt and sublime
No doubt the product of genes and socialisation is rather pertinent
thus mixing and mingling draws frameworks but is also quite reticent
German ancestry Lower Saxon and East Prussian born after the War
struggling with Genocide Holocaust trans-generational down to my core
Grew up in Hamburg somewhat lonely understood by not many but few
too young in my school year a class clown a rebel a critic because I knew
Teachers could not reject or downgrade me since I got full marks in exams
so I carved out my niche opposed authority of Messieurs and Mesdames
A late child of the Student Revolution an exchange to California ensued
where hot love struck me like balm on my wounds with Gigi from Peru
After graduation I rejected being supported by my father and joined the Army
to gain independence yet the method to gain freedom now seems very barmy
Could not leave the Forces despite pretty vigorous conscientious objection
did my best to help others as a medical doctor in humanistic inception
My duties brought me to Wales by the Irish Sea with five children and marriage
country medic and farm house guiding my kids and then nuptial miscarriage
Depression struck no light at the end of the tunnel just darkness and void
too much drink downcast in my mental wheel chair and almost destroyed
Went to rehab in South Africa for treatment where God-incidence came
where I met my wife best friend lover soulmate who had suffered the same
Now I sit in the sun in South Africa stopped medicine write story and poem
reinvent my life some inner child stuff self-actualisation and certainly growing
New awareness novel perspectives pacifism philosophy and many questions
but the knowledge that kindness love and compassion are more than suggestions
My most intimate companion apart from my gorgeous wife is depression
both showed me my path journey and meaning my own life’s repossession
So few words about where I come from who I am will become and will be
so if you wish to explore more of my roots and my future please read my poetry
What can a bewildered brotha’ say,
it happens every unnatural day
Sunshine is labeled as shade,
crystal clear is called opaque fade
Did I make a left turn
into the wrong dimension?
Now I’m seeing curvaceous things
that Nana never mentioned
Me rearview mirror eyes are
side-swipe swivel swerve widening
Was there a hot-iron cool downgrade,
firebrand placed
on my Ocho Rios dreadlock upbraids?
Puff kings are turning into drag queens ...
strange flesh doings,
I-and-I now be-be first-hand witnessing
Boys are turning into girls,
and those goatee girlz are turning into scrotum women
Lord knows,
I feel like I’m living in
Sodom and Gomorrah again
Girls are turning into boys,
and those bosom boyz are turning into vulva men
Now, I’m not for sight sure,
just what glassy gaze starry eyes blurry,
rest beyond the dress curtain
Surprises a-plenty are in store,
when it’s uncertain
what’s behind the gender door
Don’t wanna make the wrong turn,
and roll into the surreal fifth dimension
Twilight Zone neon strip is on burn,
whatcha’ see
might require psychiatric intervention
Girls are turning into boys,
and those boyz are turning into Venus men
Lord knows,
I feel like I’m Sin City living in
ancient Egypt Greece again
Boys are turning into girls,
and those girlz are turning into Mars women
Puff kings are turning into drag queens ...
strange flesh doings
It’s an open-closet psychotropic skin scene
Another brother daisy duke
exhale exigent cross-dress pollination
Pubic bramble bush adolescent tumble,
take a different genitalia turn from
a same sister butch duchess
Boys are turning into girls,
and those girlz
are turning into testosterone women
Lord knows,
I feel like I’m Zion living in
Babylon Rome again
Girls are turning into boys,
and those boyz
are turning into estrogen ova men
Momma drag queens
are the former Daddy puff kings
Nothing on the surface is
quite biological what it seems
Id feelings of a sorrowful kind,
have me heart sprout creeping ivy
of eunuch tear yearning
for a Garden of Eden spiritual awakening
And impotent thoughts of mine
are starting to grow
down below, in-between
you're so hidden
you're so afraid
i caught you staring at me
are you ready to downgrade?
you laughed and rolled your eyes back
as an accolade
have you used your fingers to tear apart
my accidental blockade?
boy, you didn't have to
there's a window just for you
a string with two cans
stuck under the shut glass
the window is locked, but the string's still there
tell me about your messed up hair
'cause you know i know it's fine
it's so fine, damn
you made a witty joke
what a handsome scam
deprive me of my thoughts
drain my blood, don't let it clot
is it gaslighting if you know i'm gone?
if you know it's right, is it wrong?
if you heard it, were there really words?
is it conversation if no one talks first?
is it sci-fi if i've done it mentally?
is it not if there's unreal chemistry?
baby, you have to choose
but i already know your choice
i saw it when you came
when you looked at me in your fantasies
you didn't say it
but i know what you said
without the words, you told me
we're users of telepathy
NOSTALGIA
May slips in
Showered in pastel green
And with a teaser of summer’s warmth
Yet remains a shiver north
Countenance more slight
With backward eyes downgrade white
Suspect the northern gods of yet lingering
Sewing the veins with rime
Ageing our sprightly may time youth
Before his bountiful time
Lay this post depression first of all
On fast declining years
Recalling frigid days and nights
That seemed to loiter endlessly
To mount irrational fears
Nostalgia
Clearly this senior man must will himself rebirth
Again recall those happy, breezy days of youth
When all was strong and grand and new
On God’s awaking Earth
Dave Austin
grant is granted of love
grant is granted of science
love is downgraded to love
love is downgraded to science
grant is granted to a downgrade of love
grant is granted to a downgrade of science
science is science's downgrade of love
vision is vision's granted of love
vision is vision's granted of science
vision is a granted vision
vision is a granted science
science is science' s vision of love
science is science's vision of science
love is a vision of science
downgrade is downgraded to science
downgrade is downgraded to love
love is love's science of love
love is granted as love
science is a love of science
love is granted as science
love downgrade love to science
Hey what did I miss?
Do I owe you something,
that every time I make a move in life you react?
Do I owe you success?
That every time I drown, making bad decisions
You recognize,
Judging like an expert.
Does it hurt to mind your own business?
To make absoluteness in your own garden?
And Show us how magical your opinions can be,
Unfortunately, I am not even really bothered in what you do
Course I am too focused on what I do.
Few Opportunities I blew,
And I am not afraid to start off building by a canoe
In my life patience is virtue, and that is one of my principles.
I am not running a race, nor am I in competition,
I am passionate, even risk I don't mind taking
And with assurance I am gonna top up my life with a barbeque.
I dont really care what you think of me,
Please do the same,
I am trying to live my life.
Please stay back from following me around, you are not my shade.
Please stay back, I am not getting married, I dont need a brides-maid
And I am not your lake so please stop showing up like you are a mermaid.
I am saying this and it does not mean I am afraid of you
It’s just all irritating.
Let me downgrade,
Of course that would be so unfortunate.
And Let me loose concentration,
Of course that might seem out of fashion.
You are not sorry, so no need to pretend.
Cut the act,
Course I know it is what you wanted to celebrate in a decade.
Maybe it got delayed.
And maybe I overplayed, but that is still not your concern.
Hey, Im trying to live,
I am trying to live my life the best way I know how.
I fall, I brake, I rise, I succeed, I loose, I fail, make bad decisions, overstay in my struggles?
That should not matter.
Please give me a breath,
I am just trying to live
And In advance I forgive you
Just please! stop being pain in the ass, I want relief,
I don’t wanna be aggressive
You are so destructive, please Just exit.
Exit from my bussiness,
The show is full, I don’t need a guest speaker.
You are too lost in my space please go find yourself somewhere else,
And Stop being a gossiper, you will grow weaker.
Stay focused in your own lane, and use your brain,
And Stop peeping through my book, write your own.
Live your life,
I am also trying to live my own the best way I know how.
I am trying to live,
I am trying to live my life, in peace The best way I know how.
The twelve were coming in …,
twelve like gods, with sealed fates.
Mortals with keys to death and dungeons of hell,
where devils walked in numbers, and are owned;
they are someone’s belongings. I could not see me.
That place is it where there is blood without formed elements …
or nutrients. Colors became significant (blue and red).
We know of the black and white barriers;
the ones we pretend do not breathe in Washington.
Brothers and a nation are built behind steel bars.
The thought of that woman,
the woman that stands bold
with torch beckoning to come and taste the dream,
is like a haunted house, and I, a little child of three.
How she defends self-government
while she’s trapped at sea. Freedom is a long way …
Liberty is far-flung,
but I must not lose what is left of free will.
When the verdicts are festooned,
they ought to downgrade the others;
there should be no rivalry.
Without such it is simple to mislead the bulk.
I am my better half;
I come clean without boasting on my tongue.
I often wondered if Hilary plagues …
because she believes she has a better hand,
or is there absolute amnesty.
This thought I contemplate to summon sleep
instead of counting sheep.
The guy who swings the three iron, I often think of his wife;
how her shoes were on to run. Was it hurt are shame?
Love is far too shallow to be called love.
I shall kill her,
and set her in the depth,
where she will be eaten by her conscience;
sometimes I questioned if there’s one.
Maybe one is near, but suppressed.
I must kill her
with this ball-point that poured out the contents
of a lamenting soul; she must go before she is far gone.
Is the law a crooked device,
a mean provided for some to get even?
Who suffers when she cried wolf?
Hell is the amount of her condescension.
She has to die, to live anew,
and to allow the halves to live.
A lotta things are like an old band-aid
Should just yank it, but we peel it nice and slow
Think we kinda like the pain, in it we wade
Things used to be pro bono, now their quid pro quo
She’s mastered façade, playin’ games like an arcade
She loves me, she loves me not, swayin’ to and fro
Probably should evade, but for you I'd wait a decade
Your love is my drug, feenin', feel like I'm in skid row
Still feelin' like someone else would be a downgrade
Cut off my ear for you, call me Vincent Van Gogh
Serenade, I'll be by your side til I'm old & decayed
There's so much room to grow, girl we have no plateau
Black umbrella pupils
Unfurling as my lips
Hold my tongue hostage
Your arms batter my heart's door
Howling winds ripping the roof
Off all our broken promises
But then your lashes shuttered stuck
As my fingers danced in your rain
Your lips downgraded
A hurricane
------
Knew it was a matter of time before I wrote a hurricane poem. Hurrah for being a Floridian.
Downgrading storms= storm weakens/ends
Let’s go, dear, to live together
and we should look eventually
what happen with such decision,
certainly we are growing fast older and downgraded
going to end, my sugar candy,
but we have been together,
that s sound finely, doesn’t?
So let’s keep living together.
No one warranted
what happened from such idea:
would we live in peace and harmony
or our life have been hurly-burly,
the whole one endless cacophony,
maybe we are both drown
with tsunami of troubles and problems
or we shall find way for harbor
our safety and harmony,
or our ship will moved to divorcee
and fighting for shearing joint collecting property.
No one know answers for that hellish questions
and predict future possibilities and revelation
in all its damned variations,
maybe love will thousand times cursing
and regretting and lamenting
for this occasion and acceptance
of long waiting meeting, suggestion and dance.
But let’s keep living together
right now and without any postponing
traying never miss each other’s
and we are looking for what’s happened later,
growing older and downgrade
but we have been live with you together
my dear sugar candy,
let’s, please, living forever.
One day that porcelain is going to crack and that smoky façade you cast fourth will dissipate amongst the dusty breeze. Black in your mouth, black on your fingertips. Time is elusive and reality a joke without a punchline. A princess turned beggar, nothing in this world is original. It will be no surprise when concrete meets bone. The angels linger with bats atop the trees. Looking down upon you sharing cackles and memories. Lusting for collapse. The beautiful downgrade. No faith in degeneration. One day these words will echo and resonate down to your marrow. Child, welcome this slow death called life.
We’re writing hieroglyphics for the next civilization to decipher
Armageddon is brewed in the lab for children like us born in petri-dishes
Raised like crops plugged amid weeds
We downgrade to something less than human
The weather forecast is hot under the collar
Amid self elected rule
A runaway economy fallen off the tracks
We salvage what we can from the wreckage
And build our shacks anew
Missiles resemble fireworks at major festivities
Love is a script written for puppet theatre
Hate is a t-shirt mass printed,
And worn to peace rallies and even weddings
Boy soldiers give their lives needlessly to the killing fields
I hugged my lover’s dead bones today
In her memory like a bullet to the temple
Alive, I buried her in a shallow grave, dug with my rifle as I returned fire
I mark my final resting place next to hers
To replenish the soil with a kind of love
Villanelle : If you think you think and not feel your thoughts invade
For Mozart's solo piano in Concertos Nos. 20 & 22, K466 & K482 (1785)
If you think you think and not feel your thoughts invade
The conscious via sub-conscious tease unconscious
Tingling dulcet chords chased by strings through cascade
If you think you think your ideas in stockade
Echoed by winds second cousins vertiginous
If you think you think and not feel your thoughts invade
Aeons of whistling neurones make myriad aubade
Flutes clarinets horns bassoons trumpets flirtatious
Tingling dulcet chords chased by strings through cascade
Runaway scales submerge thoughts mind not fingers made
The conscious giving in to outpouring rushes
If you think you think and not feel your thoughts invade
Surrender will till tortuous arguments fade
Cascading chords bully strings winds unconscious
Tingling dulcet chords chased by strings through cascade
If doubts till unborn day ne'er will sink nor downgrade
Hark not to high extra-mundane Art grown luscious
If you think you think and not feel your thoughts invade
Tingling dulcet chords chased by strings through cascade
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2018