Best Pessimism Poems
Down with pessimism
Drown not in negativism
Beware of escapism
Steer clear of cynicism
Keep far from fanaticism
It only invites antagonism
Too lonely is monasticism
Too stifling, collectivism
Failure dogs perfectionism
Emptiness mars materialism
Insularity deadens catechism
Stoicism breeds fatalism...
True, this poem is full of criticism
~ But it ends on a note of optimism
Thank you
For putting me down
and leaving me astound,
For which I'm ungrateful
because you've made my life extremely painful.
I once had an office job sitting next to Miss Sunshine day in and day out. She and her 7th Day Adventist Jesus were always so positive and jolly about everything, it was hard not to smack her.
One day with syrupy sweet intonation she asked why I was so cynical and wasn't I an unhappy person.
I said, "Only a sociopath could be happy about the truth of things, but I'm just a realistic observer not hiding behind cheerful nonsense; there's no correlation to happy or unhappy. Look at you for instance. You are smiling and upbeat all the time. And I don't believe I've ever met an unhappier person."
She was stunned, momentarily silent, mouth hanging open. Then she burst into terrible wracking sobs of anguish.
I'm reserved..Don't say much...
I'm shy..but confident as well..
I don't Express b/c I feel lurch...
When my own said thoughts make my life hell !!
My thoughts are pure and I know that!
You make me feel like I've made a mistake...
Mistaken..In choosing you from the lot!
Mistaken...b/c my emotions r being put at stake!
You'll one day realize what you've lost!
I bet you will !
Just as now i'm realizing my fault!
Realizing after being thrown from top of the hill !
.
Will never expressmy sentiments again ever !
Optimism is dealt with pessimism everywhere
Innocent being tagged as ''Clever''
Enough done ! Now can't bear !
.
Not Everybody can know you !
Not Everybody can Understand you!
Not everybody can feel the real person in You !
Everybody can NEVER be YOU !
Pandemic pessimism
There is no such thing as society.
Forgo forgiving, forget free lunch,
Just plates of debt and toxic punch.
First come first served, no us, just me
Seeking survival in celebrity.
Self serving, Kentucky Fried Credit Crunch.
My savings eaten for breakfast by the finance bunch,
As bran flake banks crumble to muesli debris.
No shields against pandemic sneezes,
Flying flu to all locations new and old.
Green shoots perish in the feverish cold.
Global noses running from a world of weases.
Masked Mexicans wave wearily for Jesus.
Reporters coughing, colic, pessimistic woe.
Fragile families fall like sick dominoes,
Sickening symptoms, spreading diseases.
Good news rushes for the underground.
Talk show wisdom writes the scripts,
With hollow haikus and precripitive lists.
Tabloid vultures’ prey on fame newly found,
Warhol’s wisdom long enough, nothing too profound.
Paparazzi pursuing celebrities big brother missed,
X factor losers, B-listers, now being kissed.
Some rise, some fall, without a sound.
Where is the panacea in poetry?
What, prosaic potions can we really believe?
Written meaninglessness about nothing to achieve?
Nietzsche, Kafka, notes of Dostoyevsky?
Do I really want to be?
A pointless poet? Conspiring to conceive,
Of life as cruel; where I have been deceived.
Pessimism stays away from me.
‘Am I bovered’;do I really care?
For creative words, life’s of optimistic scribes?
Zimmerman singing ‘It is all good’; positive vibes?
New gurus proclaim there is nothing to fear ,
Answering questions I always held dear,
‘Blogging in the Wind’ as cynicism dies.
E- Poets rejecting Darwinian lies,
Finding meaning in ‘constructing authenticity’.
There is nothing I would not do to assuage
all in you slipping deprived and love awry.
I focus my wishes to diminish your anguish,
to remind you of our perfect designed kisses;
their puckery allure secured our lover’s map
and tapped our wants to ever stay like that.
As a thief, your pessimism slowly robs all
that only tomorrow’s motive may absolve.
Please think of time's appetency to prove
atrocious growls and fussy scowls reduce
to absolutely no substantially lived truth.
I want more romantic years of auspicious
sunrises that entwine you with optimistic.
Like seed buried in the ground
Love is deeply buried with no sound;
Dictators hearts have no shame
There only objective is to maim;
They don’t like any opposition
They torture for instant submission.
Weaklings probing for some care
They have nothing to share.
Rapist for total control they perceive
Taking by force without they deceive;
Victims humiliated and stained
Their immediate feelings constrained.
Not looking forward for the morrow
My heart is broken with sorrow
Pedophiles they scrutinize the innocents
They are disgusting, totally infamous;
Children not knowing they’re exploited
Their future often segregated.
Like seed buried in the ground
Offenders continue to hang around.
Sheer Fear
Pink horizons mollifies probing eyes as clouds dissipate above
To the heavens bow gratitude where migrant birds hang glide
Venerated cosmic gods who quieted his pain then gave it love
Yet dusk arrived now this restless heart have no place to hide
A raging sea within me foresee fragmented ancient reflections
Impervious to heavenly rays of interminable mystical sunrises
Averse in utilizing rationalizations amending illogical emotions
Sheer fear appear sinister when incongruity incessantly arises
10/31/23
Aboard cruise liner:
Vision of the Seas
People who want misery
will find it in everything
An angel becomes the devil
The flower wilts
A cloud blocks the shining sun
Angry people pick fights with you
pretending it's themselves
Don't be your own
Worst
Enemy.
Why takes place terrorism?
Is it due to lack of optimism?
Or do devils do tricky hypnotism?
It surely cripples enthusiasm
Tigers and lions kill for food
Otherwise, no killing mood
Hunger makes them rude
But, man is badly crude
By man religion is invented
And peace is by him prevented
Fellow men are cruelly hunted
His brain is by ferocity blunted
Without seeing holy God
He rules this sacred Sod
To kill, he works very hard
For peace, he doesn't nod
He loves to waste blood
He prefers to chop head
No kind words are said
Peace is now fully dead
Women and babies die
Before the crying Sky
To love, men don't try
Life here, they just deny
He prefers to massacre
He makes death occur
He shows his rancor
To cancel any succor
Why is he so cruel?
To death, so loyal?
His anger is real
He creates Hell
Every God can't be shown
By bombs, World is blown
Why fight for the Unknown?
Why should tragedy we own?
Feel peaceful by doing a duty
At times, pray to the Almighty
Show in this World creativity
By doing an useful activity
Love alone is always unique
That only is the best tonic
Be not a cynic with an evil trick
Kindness and mercy are basic.
The sheer maintenance of the probability,
Nothing is comparable to our garrulous mendacity.
Nothing can be called a consummate pattern,
Except for any tremendous aching, this life would only be a fallacious earn.
You are just an archetypal passer-by without any aim,
You want to play an unwarranted game.
Your loudest silence is another offence,
In this horrifying reality, you are nothing but an object of pretence.
I am only a creep,
Who cannot conclude anything by hearing a beep.
I am nothing but a remiss whisper,
Who always follows the astute pied pipers.
We are the prerequisites for the uncustomary laws,
You and I are awaiting the perfect pause.
To pause for the first time is to give us a promotion,
To resume our voice is just waiting for the untold damnation.
In my feathers, you will live long,
Throughout the flight to blessed hell, you want to sing an eerie song.
You want to reside in my flawless illusion,
This unfeasible expedition is nothing but a callous vision.
Pessimism is a perplexive fine phase
Wherein orb-adversity reign the days
The darkest hours of the desperate gaze
Those evade to every pervading rays.
No option that he could, or can opt for
For everything seems futile to adopt
Where aspirations, stretched and left afar
As to no hope & despair, he could co-opt.
No desires can expect a ray of hope
It’s here; where ones looks grow sober & griever
Ak(in) the dark the vision strives severe
The dim, dull, dark valley strikes sans a scope
Optimism; the breath you take or inhale
Whilst the other is the one you exhale.
A week past pessimism
here I sit,
remembering weakly
Days and dreams
false hopes and prophets
ineptitude and missed ambition.
but now, I tell myself,
remember now no more,
cast aside each fett'ring weight;
and paint the future
if u can
with the untamed neon
or colors far beyond this spectrum.
yes, still sit
in the grey September rain
still wash and founder in
its long wet grass
still fling your longing wildly
into its wind,
but run:
into the night
into tomorrow
into the freeing, rain washed blue
and fall into the sky.
as trees flash out in glory
from the last burnt lights of summer,
flash out yourself
in untamed colors
far beyond this spectrum.
The ancient times,
Buried the Genesis
Of today's psyches,
Recycled but deformed,
Stale and stinking-
Evolutionary idioms?
The visual décor
And the packaging
Of rotten,
Oh no, The heaven
Ruined with the billowing smokes,
Hiding the power of Sun,
Drumming the catastrophe.
Time and fate have mocked us all,
be we great or be we small.
The same temptations Jesus thwarted
the Church, I fear, has ofttimes courted.
Luther preached before the throne:
"The just shall live by faith alone."
Yet ""freedom" in a peasant's ears
filled great lords with dread and fears.
"Workers, unite!" was Karl Marx's plea.
The aftermath is plain to see.
A pacifist brought forth the bomb,
a paradox God save us from.
Man's fate, which lies beyond our ken,
must be:
(for optimists:) to fail and strive again.
(for pessimists:) to strive and fail again.