Best Misconception Poems
You see it’s complicated.
Just because his bones aren’t crumbling before your eyes,
And his organs are still vaguely breathing,
Well appear to be intact.
It must mean he’s fine, normal in fact.
Just because his skin isn’t blue and grey all over,
And his head isn’t spinning,
The voices still get to him.
Deep down beyond all the self-motivation talks
He still struggles to admit he’s wrong
Just because he can’t put himself through this for much longer,
the toil and torment you see in the news,
In front of your deluded eyes and mind,
this doesn’t reveal,
the secrets to your fogged mind.
You see, he’s not the stereotype, the typical
That society has taught you to look out for
And sympathize.
You’ve been hypnotized to call out
“He’s just attention seeking”
When in actual fact
The cuts on his arms, are symbols of what’s wrong with the world.
You can’t see his ribs piercing though his dead, flimsy skin
The only visible damage is
the blood stains on the floor
and the bloody razor blade
shining under the expectations of his family
You can’t hear his brain and body,
Working together, in conjunction,
Like a duet,
To slowly kill him off from this cruel world,
This cruel, judgmental society.
That we are forced to proceed to
This agenda of hatred
To leave no trace, of his sorry existence
To you he’s fine.
This is his normal.
In all honesty
I believe Love is actually blind
That she lost her road
And headed straight
Into the mess, she lays in today
I hope we all find her, bathe her and clothe her
Cos she's really a mess right now...
Love used to be the gatekeeper
Between the legs of young girls
Keeping the invaders out in the wild
But these days,
She's more like the green lamp on the traffic lights
Beaconing every car to drive that route
Deep into 'The Virgin Close'
Love used to be the backbone of every man
The strength and blood that pushes men to fight
Work and be the better person
But these days
She's become the gravity pulling every man down
She's the pickaxe used by gold-diggers
Digging the wealth out of our young men
Leaving them broke—like some shattered glass
Love was so innocent back in the day
All she knew was just letters
Written by some secret admirer
And believe me
The shadiest part of the letter is
You've got beautiful brown eyes
That's a classical one
But these days
Love does Sexting
She's all about the unspeakable...
Love is so rusty
She needs some work done on her
She needs rehabilitation
From her figure to her concept
Especially her use in this context
She is meant to be the binder
Between us all
But sadly, Love is blind
We've gotta spit on the ground
Make mud and rub in her eyes
As we proclaim the phrase (Jn. 9:6)...
Here's Mud in Your Eye
And all will come to know that
Love is not blind
Love is not proud
Love is not self-seeking
Love keeps no record of wrong
Rather, Love is kind
Love is patient
Love is true
Love protects
Love perseveres
Love is beautiful
Just like the Sea...
Inspired by Martha Machief
Critiqued by Ess—Jay
If we accept our own definition
of the Universe as the sum of all,
we must abandon the supposition
that it’s inflating like a giant ball.
There is no doubt distant galaxies race
away from each other increasingly,
and, relative to each other in space,
their pace accelerates unceasingly.
In point of fact, at their farthest extreme,
they don’t obey the speed limit of light,
but this is only the way that things seem
and what we observe is not always right.
Though logical, it’s tough to understand:
Something into nothing does not expand.
I act courteously around him;
dress lightly to enjoy summer breeze;
he sees my tongue licking my lips in the sun;
I gaze at him lazily, and sigh gently as the ocean breeze
blows my dress;
"she wants to make love", is all I read deep in his eyes......
The pill, they say, will heal all wounds.
Strike the light of dimming moons.
Ignite dead fire in soul’s desire.
Lift depression and take you higher.
Bring the crippled to their feet.
Bring the rain in drowning heat.
Have you cry in happiness.
Make you laugh, impossible bliss.
They pill, I say, will change your life.
See a new spark in your wife.
Feel the earth for what it is.
Share more laughter with your kids.
Help you follow and care for your dreams.
Get through your shell and burst at the seams.
Look at the sun, and not wonder why.
Embrace your life before you die.
The Pill of Life Contest
2/2/13
What is love to most?
A simple feeling
One may boast –
Nay! I say –
There’s much more to Love –
More than what meets the eye
More than can be felt –
More than can be imagined –
Love is more often
A gross misconception!
Actions given from the heart –
Words can’t express –
Complete surrender
Of heart, body, soul and mind –
To this, you’ll surely be amazed!
The glory to be found
Happiness untamed and unbound –
Humility divine –
Your hearts and souls entwined!
Nothing need ever be asked –
Of each other
You’ll already know –
And lovingly you both fulfill
The needs of the other –
The ways of love you show –
Your hearts aglow!
Love to the last breath
You both shall breathe –
By your sides
You’ll never leave!
Physical love
Always monogamous –
Infinite pleasures ginormous!
In each other’s arms
You daily abide –
Conversation, no lack thereof –
Always and lovingly
Lending an ear
No hurt, no pain,
Or woe entangled!
Only Love, Faithfulness and Trust
Forever exists –
Unconditionally aware –
God at your center –
Children she’ll lovingly bear –
A glorious family
You’ll both share –
Their every need
Seen to with loving care!
Endless love you’ll always have –
As you both promised
In your wedding vows –
None violated
Nor shall be forgotten –
Put by the way side,
Neglected or downtrodden!
If on this path
You’re blessed to go –
Cherish always
This Love you’ll know –
For in these words
You’ll forever find –
A great connection,
No fault of mind –
Or disconnection
In true love, unconditional –
You mustn’t fall victim,
Nor be drawn in to
Love’s Misconception!
MISCONCEPTION
Had to lie.
When asked,
Said I worked at McDonalds
Fellow students
Would never understand…
…Care.
An art student
Living under the shade of the Empire State
Steps away 5th Avenue
Without a job?
Turned me into a snob from abroad
In their eyes.
Worst yet
I was an ambassador’s son,
What a Bum!
He feels no pain
Has nothing to gain
Homeless people have more to say!
Never felt like explaining
Lying was much easier,
I was then one of them.
Should have told them
About my homeless heart.
The art of conversation and Titian
Hail to the thieves
that retrieve
lost trees.
Hey! Where do you disappear?
Hail to the piercing taste of a pear.
Hey! Why do you gaze at me so?
I don't need reality unless it's mine.
Talk to me.
Talk to me.
Take your time and sigh.
See the world redesigned.
Then let it go.
Sell sunbeams in a crisis.
Talk to the stones that turn.
Touch the rhythm and burn with it.
Celebrate both victory and defeat.
See what's featured in the cosmic menu.
Among all the amenities I obtain you.
The art of grabbing without touching.
The art of dreaming without falling asleep.
The art of loathing without telling.
The art that picks the hip from the heaps
of all their winnings.
The art of elusive light.
The art of being close tonight
and disappearing tomorrow.
The art of 'have-a-nice-day'
with a finger on a trigger.
The art of getting miniscule
and then growing bigger.
The art that unites all nations -
the everlasting
misconception
of communication.
05/06/2016
(c) Maryna Tchianova 2016
Ukraine
Inspired by http://www.wikiart.org/en/rene-magritte/the-art-of-conversation-1950?utm_source=returned&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=referral
Is there anything on earth left unknown that does exist?
All people put together, in a conscious-fit.
Some serious questions must be placed.
Without our knowledge would we feel this pace?
Humans are a race, but I’m not racing.
I just sit and ponder, pacing and pacing.
Lets shift our perspective and stop this rhyming.
Mix it up and forget that were dying.
Something out there is keeping me behind.
Perhaps I am telling the world to speed up time.
Or maybe it's my fault and I’m just losing my mind.
playing with misuse of anything
material or immaterial
ultimately produces injustice
to own self being
sooner or later
glaring in history mythology
even present speaks truly
a simple good sense's enough to catch
backfire of misconception it's
Misconception
Your misconception of who I Am
Your misconception of what I Do
Shows you know me not at all-
I was once a good girl like you.
I didn't sit around as a child and contemplate that I would become a prostitute one day.
Although my memories are kind of hazy I have a select few of childhood play.
All you see when you look at me is disdain, disgust or hate.
You only see me for turning tricks.
A bottom feeder looking for the best rate.
I want you to see me as a human who feels pain and pleasure and who bleeds the same as you.
I want you to look at me as a person.
And not for what I DO.
Unless you've lived a day in my life-
Could you possibly understand?
What it's like that in order for you to eat that you will have to sleep with a random man.
Your misconception of Who I Am
Your misconception of what I DO.
Shows you know me not at all.
I was once a good girl like you.
Written by: Bambi Ortiz
Misconception
Dear Laura,
Do you know that night when you stayed with me?
When we had time to reach for each other,
without the urgency of the clock?
That night-
I drank your breath
I held you while my passion swallowed yours
You thought I was inside you, oh no-
I pulled you deep inside my core. While our skin burned
I was throwing away my heart, my bones,
I was throwing away my brains, dissolving my tissue.
I was flushing my blood to the floor.
Ripping away my muscles.
Becoming an open shell.
Then-
I cradled you inside of me.
I filled myself with you..
How else could I get you so close?
How else could I have gotten so close?
I put your heart in place of mine.
I stole your being.
And you thought we were just making love.
Glass of my life is with elixir of truth
I choose its pious bitterness
Over to the sweetness of lies,
To activate my neutral taste buds,
To irrigate dried cells of my throat,
To enlighten my naive soul,
To quench my thirst for life
I want to be true on reality of soil.
Let poison of truth eliminate illusion,
I choose its mercy on me
Over to storms of destruction,
To destroy specks of misconception,
To block veins, they flow through,
To remove flesh with faulty deeds,
To amend falsified becoming me,
For union with the honesty of soil.
The inchworm's in no hurry
his vision's perhaps blurry
A journey of five meters
in ten hours, a world-beater
I'd like to go on record
to report they don't feel hectored
But per a reliable source
they envy snails, of course
Where did all the good times go?
we use to be like twenty four
now we seem so disconnected
and you want to say my misconception.
Why do you keep telling your lies?
don't you see I finally realize
we're moving in two different directions
and you want to say my misconception.
I thought about it long and hard
the heart you broke with indiscretions
unlocked images of your imperfections
and you want to say my misconception.
I trusted the love we once shared
until the day I found your secrets
reflections of all your love convictions
and you want to say my misconception.
The tide now turning, the sun lights my way
time to spread my wings and fly away
deflected, rejected, but not by will
and you want to say my misconception.
Reap what you sow, you're now the foe
my heart no longer belongs to you
today my love is revived to perfection
and you're just an image of misconception.