Best Humiliate Poems
Is all we have, just hours or years, a lie we believe.
We have no clarity as to what God will do.
So grab this minute given to you by God, you don't
need to be ruled by the terrorism of the mob.
The mob will shirk you, humiliate you, so do look for
the leading star in a crowd.
Like sheep they huddle in common mediocrity, adoring
each other,so slovenly.
Their eyes never raised to adore, just to gain points, they
do keep score!
Patting their own backs constantly, with no credit ever,
not for one second to God.
Indeed, in the arts and literature, many are eternally lost.
Refusing to realize, that the eternal loss of their souls is
their ultimate cost.
August 5, 2019
9:30pm PST
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 …..
You may not like my being
You may hate my appearance
The way I dress up and the way I smile
Don’t humiliate me, don’t insult me
I am one of God’s image and creation
Cannot please your standard of perfection.
You and I may not see eye to eye
You may not like what I believe in
My faith, my values and point of view
Please, don’t stifle me or reject me
God has blessed us with many talents
I don’t need your personal judgments.
We may not be friends
You may hate my background
Where I come from and my history
Why taunt me? Why bother me?
I want to bring glory to God’s name
Cannot dwell under your standard of shame.
You may not cherish who I am
But perish not yourself
With your hatred and your prejudices
Remember, God’s world is so vast for us to enjoy
You are free to go your way
And please let me go my way.
Amani the peaceful warrior
A woman who risked her life
To save mothers and daughters from the notorious war crimes
Deep in the jungles of Congo
The continuing human rights violence
The rape, the discrimination and the children armies
The non stop crisis that seemed to worsen with each dawn
Amani the peaceful warrior established safety homes for the victims
Through varying trainings the mothers and daughters were taught farming, knitting, cooking, simple medical training, arts and crafts and many more
With counseling she gave back the victims the power they had lost
Their smiles grew, their hearts shone
A rose garden was planted to show this victory
And as the smiles grew, so did it
They heard of Amani and in one of her rescue missions, she was captured
Her hands and legs were tied
He said, "these hands have to go"
To humiliate her and her course
To destroy her and her dreams
But even as she left, her legacy lived beyond the pain and the torture.
*Fictional*
There is never an ending
to the spending
a world of paper
and plastic to collect
and horde
clothes
and cars
and homes
and jewelry
and fine wine
and paintings
stocks and bonds
vacations
and expectations
entire vocations
devoted to
disguising the numbers
the Caribbean masquerade
to volumes of recorded
purchases and voices
of invoices
making
discreet
choices
all
to extend
the accumulation
of dates
and names
places and faces
communications
and connections
at breakneck
speed
must fill the need
must fill the need
a shouting browbeating
broadband
handing over
fistfuls of cash
to make sure
make certain
only the best
the finest
the rarest
of air is not available
for
the underwater martyrs
the silent box dwellers
the empty bottle collectors
the wheelchair drifters
the SRO limbo sellers
the workers at
the bottom
of the
fast
food
chain
and the indigent gamblers
who line the halls
to knock on doors
of government departments
crippled by reckless
and corrupt state
administrations
choking the dwindling
sources
and resources
that have
nothing to do
but
count the days
and ways
to disappoint
disarm dismay
dispute the reputations
and applications
held in sweaty palms
eager
to begin living
to end the doubt
to end the not having
the counting of pennies
the slow heroin erosion
the unbroken hollowness
the whiskey-soaked
ravages of vacant histories
better-forgotten memories
of cold emergency rooms
to end being
in a world
apart
a world
of resentment
of fear and hate and anger
of dark empty streets
empty recriminations
empty promises
made to themselves
by themselves
harming themselves
or
arming themselves
to rob to steal
to maim
to take whatever they can
for as long as they can
to approximate
the wonder and magic
of having what you need
when you need it or want it
to not have to beg
to not have to humiliate
or be humiliated
to not have to watch
the ease of others
who have a casual
contempt for misfortune
and respect for nothing
but their own wealth
of deception
to breeze through
tall golden doors
to an unbroken string
of shiny bright todays
and tomorrows
to not have to
lunge for hope
and
never grasp it
in all ways
and forever
just out of
reach
Tragedy is never a sentiment for Time
For it is a phenomenon she merely sees
She pours forth abundance for all that behold her
Even for those of us that scold her
And for naught she was cursed from the beginning
There she is—interminable Time at the fullest!
And we all envy her ever-ringing constancy
She rules over our hearts
Keeping stress in our spirits
Not once does she feel sorry for us
Nor is she indifferent of our failures
She begs not for gratefulness
And accepts who she is with joy!
How ample we would be if we
Like she—were free of trepidation
If only we be like her waters—clear and visible from top to bottom
Filled with untainted approval
What fools we must seem to such a pure jewel as Time
But ah, she is both heartless and kind
And though we hate her peculiar aura
Oh how hard it is do tear her from our minds!
How stressfully beautiful Time is!
Like a wink of venerated bliss
She smiles and smiles
And our ironical faces feel like grime
Still she laughs in mirth
While the world becomes a ball of putrid hatred
Wanting more and more of her
And positively hating her
We that cannot see her began to hate
For we are as visible and low as can be
And we acknowledge her merely to insult her
Though she takes no pang to the chest
For the only gifts we give in return for herself are pangs
That she simply returns to each sender
Hidden is our pride
But ever placed
Ever unhidden
Is our inscrutable mortality
And this humiliation of our unchangeable fates
Makes us want to humiliate the more fortunate
Thus we regard her only as a concept
As a fraction of a belief—a bellowing ideal
For of course Time cannot in our honey-glazed eyes
Think, eat, drink or feel
We use her—yes! Even abuse her
Not once will she complain
For her gift is everlastingness
Indians, Chiefs, Braves, Warriors, Redskins and Vikings!
Seems the politically correct crowd is upset with such things!
They're disturbed that sports teams bearing such names are a disgrace,
And that they humiliate and debase the dignity of folks of any given race!
It just so happens that with the PC crowd I have a little beef!
I'm a CHIEF Master Sergeant and Once a CHIEF - Always a CHIEF!
I earned a most worthy title that seems to irritate that pitiful crowd;
Try to take it away from me if you dare, but I'm not so easily cowed!
Robert L. Hinshaw, Chief Master Sergeant, USAF, Retired
To punish and humiliate me is cruelty,
what I deserve can't be forgotten easily;
deny me everything until I ache,
until I come to realize my mistake...
and being honest, I'll swear
that everything you do is fair!
I can be sorry for the hard done,
and apologizing won't mean much;
you can resent all the hurtful words
I shouted in anger crossing the line:
I don't ask for sympathy, but making up
would be a relief from the guilty feelings!
To punish and humiliate me is cruelty,
each and every blame I must take...
remembering when I lay awake
and thought of her instead of you:
all my fake emotions I can't undo!
Whatever came over me?
More springs will come with new dreams,
but many wishes I cast on falling stars;
be in those dreams and breathe with me;
I don't deserve to be forgiven twice...
if only tears could wash away those cheats:
I would be free of this guilt that torments me!
To punish and humiliate me is cruelty,
I ask for some compassion, not pity;
I destroyed the trust you had in me:
your bitterness and anger can destroy me!
When love turns sour, your left without hope.
When our hearts are broken,
They aren't easily mended.
Your heart will be torn and frayed.
The ones you once loved will
Humiliate you in the worst ways.
They will fill you with agony and tears,
But, before the agony, comes the anger.
You feel betrayed and devastated.
They will disable you of all defenses,
Because that person was the one you trusted.
You told them your secrets and heart's greatest desires.
But, when you realize the ulterior motive,
The reason they were in your life in the first place,
You are ashamed of yourself for being naive.
So, because you won't allow yourself to be hurt again,
You know you'll never be able to be with them.
But...You'll still regret all those stupid fights,
And you'll still laugh at all the silly jokes.
You'll remember the good times and the bad,
And thank God for the time you had.
What IS worship?
You may not know
if your bored, stare into the air,
recite without insight,
sing without glee,
do not know if you’re free…
What is worship?
It’s a kinship
between you
and the King.
It is looking up…
It is falling to your knees…
Do you hate the thought
of being humbled?
I hate the thought of pride…
God sees us in our lowly stance
and picks us up to take us
on the greatest ride.
The chariot flies.
My eyes are closed…
My eyes are open…
I am breathless at the glory…
How can I NOT praise Christ!
What one of you would humiliate yourself…
What one of you would give IT ALL UP…
What one of you would allow the extreme…
What one of you would suffer, be betrayed,
have all your friends run away, be slapped
and whipped and not cry out for heaven’s help…
…to the death, bleed out
…even then be mocked
…betrayed by YOUR creation
Why worship…why NOT?
Worship is NOT
berating
hating
yawning
but elating…
Mercy and grace
likewise not pondered
and then you wonder
at His justice…
what about ours?
As for me and my house
we will gladly leap and holler,
sing, raise hands with wonder…
gloriously wonder at the God
who loves this needle in a haystack,
who lets me feel the fullness
of my soul…his salvation
makes me whole.
i used to think
loving you too much
was romantic.
now i see—
it was me
giving away parts of myself
like clearance items,
hoping you’d find value
in something
i had already discounted.
you thought my devotion
was desperation.
you watched me fold
into smaller versions of myself
just to fit your world.
and when i broke,
you called me dramatic.
but i wasn’t asking for too much.
i was just asking you
to notice
that i gave everything
and asked
for almost nothing.
now,
i look at who i was with you—
and i forgive her.
she didn’t know
love isn’t supposed to
humiliate.
We met him at the Pride Parade joining all those who came there to unite…
He was wearing a blue denim dress and carrying a flag in colors blue and pink and white.
He proudly waved his transgender flag…a freedom that seemed to give him joy…
We weren’t sure if he was born a boy who knew he was a girl
or born a girl who knew she was a boy.
But that didn’t matter to us…or anyone else who stood there by the road…
we were all impressed with the courage and the bravery this wonderful human showed.
Because today…fear and prejudice and politics have made it difficult by far…
for a transgender human to stand up proudly…and declare to the world who they are…
Which is why we were there at the parade…to lend our love, support and happiness
to celebrate with pride…all the people in the parade…and their unique humanness.
It’s fitting that we are in Cherokee country..because many native nations,
whose traditions we so callously attempted to destroy…
believed in two-spirit people—those being born part girl…part boy.
They gave special significance to two-spirit humans…and welcomed all of them here
believing they had a special connection to the sacred spiritual sphere.
They revered two-spirit humans…who because of their two-spirit feelings
became their spiritual and ceremonial leaders…with special powers for healing
I’d like to get back to the Native Nations way of thinking…
because the only way to make this country great…
If to ensure acceptance, truth and wisdom…supplants our prejudice, fear and hate.
When you think about it who walks in better balance
than a human who can see the world from more than one side…
Which made us proud to watch this young human wave his flag…
proud he knew he was accepted…that he didn’t have to hide.
I believe we all are born with two-spirits…certainly me…and I have no doubt…you…
It’s just some people are more blessed to have a better balance between the two.
And rather than try to shame and humiliate them…I think it’s important that we…
celebrate who they are…and who they were born to be…
Because this human holds onto the hope that one day…our world will have evolved so far…
That a human won’t need to be brave or courageous…to show the world exactly who they are
I look all round me and I’m engulfed by shame
I see people chanting freedom
But they have nothing tangible to show they are free
Because their freedom’s trail is unknown to them
Shackles of apartheid still tight on their wrist
Check the net and go through the list
See the names that exist in our midst
Because the apartheid segregation policy still exist
Kaffir used to humiliate black men
And Negros to disgrace a black men
In our minds we think freedom
Yet our attitude shows how tight the shackles of apartheid are
Our history is colorful
Decorated with blood of heroes and heroines
Who fought for the emancipation of non racial society
In black and white names of black and whites are recorded
They are recorded for the benefit of everyone in the land
To remind us the importance of unity
To embrace miscellaneous colors molded us to a rainbow nation
Who can turn a blind eye on the colorful history of South Africa
Who can claim an individual victory to the journey traveled
From apartheid era to become a nonracial society
We broke free from the shackles of apartheid
Why then adorn ourselves with shackles of shame
Every time you call your brother with derogatory word
The shackles of apartheid shine like a diamond necklace
And the artisan smile, for you pursue his evil art of segregation
Africa is my home and Africans are my brothers.
Normally I am sober
Love to socialize
Never lose composure
Need no disguise
I am an IT engineer
I am a good husband
Clara my wife dear
Earns several thousand
We are a happy family
Except the deadly alter
As they say the insanity
Needs a strong halter
Whenever you humiliate me
The rebel will come up
Will bring out invariably
The beast in my soul-hub
And when the beast is out
To do something horrible
Irrational bloods shout
I am criminally terrible
But the normal I has no memory
Of the monster in me
Nor the alter is aware
Of the others who accompany
This dissociation is disastrous
Psychiatry has no remedy
Psychotherapy is advantageous
For the disturbed chemistry
The broken home of my childhood
Haunts me in my dream
Both the identities in the darkness
Are in full-throated scream
Doctors give me medicines
For anxiety and depression
Sending me in reticence
To tranquilize the elephant
I don’t know how long I will stay
With this miserable destiny
I am afraid one clouded day
I'll kill both of me
___________________________
May 22, 2016
For: Split Personalities – Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Davey
We pledged brother and sister organizations that spring. We saw each other
frequently at fraternity/sorority functions, and, in the cafeteria, of course. She
dated a friend of mine and I watched from the sidelines, hoping for another
chance to make a play for her heart. Then while dining and socializing one
evening, a senior member of the fraternity requested that we dance together in
the cafeteria! I know it sounds like an odd request for the cafeteria, but Hatchet
was known for trying to humiliate pledges and didn’t really care about others who
were trying to dine and return to their studies. For me, it was the greatest dance
of my life! Hatchet and about a dozen cronies crooned ‘Frauline’, and I was
dancing with Vicki. And, for that dance, she was “my pretty frauline”. I felt like
Bobby Helms had written that song just for me; for us!
I held her close and asked,” Do you know how to turn?”
“No,” she replied.
“Well, you’re fixin’ to learn!” And I felt like I’d been fooled as we successfully
made a full turn in the aisle between the tables and the milk dispenser. I didn’t
want to let her go!
To this day, I smile when I hear the song!