Best Possessiveness Poems
~the Fear of Never~ A DRINK TO REMEMBER!
And the fire catches every time, my heart needs a sip
I bear no shame pouring, poisoned pabulum whisky down
Lost in a place with hungry whores, ink paying gigolos
This night a respected gentleman put's on his evening gown
He sits in front of a mic playing the same old sad song
Fitted out in drag, his wife has no clue
Holy breeders trying to change my shoes
Lingering from the Cute Chinaman, running his tab sky high
Bluebirds of jealousy, set round the vintage Barstool like fools
Minds overpowered and threaten to the very nub
I am drunk-- in his eye,
He receives a macabre confession of possessiveness
I am drunk-- in her eye,
She has a sick confession of subconsciousness
Broken loose from a negative, regressive state of mind
Sit and enjoy this broken bottle of champagne
Unspoken rage in every empty can left behind
A shot glass drops from my unstable hands longing to hold a pen
I look into a mirror and embrace every meaning of stability
Blotting out the madness behind a metal cage of reality
At times, I feel the need to bring down this masquerade
A drink so hostile, I can't even remember my image and name
Too many scars, from the foster of paper and pen
My dependents are drunken demons from a traumatized childhood
Tonight I will legislate a special thanks
Holding up my cup, until death finds my note
I will smile, at every Judge and Jury, during karaoke night
Shutting down my eyes, fantasizing everything's gonna be alright
I will not jilt knowing, writers block haunted my days away
Insecure hoarding monsters enjoying spoil forgotten words
Tonight I thirst like never before, my tongue inscribes around a tin cup
I am not eating up by it, no matter how long I've drowned in it
This is my kind of whisky, my thoughts, my days of ammo
To tell you the truth, I possess no desire to drink
It's all about the love of poetry and how sober, I become (WITHOUT)
The monsters that reside inside, have one thing to say
"Give me Poetry, or give me Death!"
by: PD
What is love if it is not the selfless,
Wholehearted joy in another’s fortune?
If it is not the thrill at another’s joy?
If it is not the longing for another’s happiness,
Then what is love at all?
Real love remains untainted by bitter negativity,
By possessiveness and jealousy.
By human nature’s poisons and insecurities.
Love is the power to grant freedom, to trust, to adore.
So, what is love if not the warm and carefree feeling?
A heart brimming full of laughter and light?
If these emotions are not love,
Then who can claim to love at all?
Love is not a need, or desire, nor is it the want of flesh.
Love is the simple pleasure of another’s company,
The sharing, sometimes, the sacrifice,
The ultimate willingness to put another first.
The hunger to make another happy.
The need to dry their tears,
To tend their ill health,
To help them be all that they can be.
To inspire their dreams,
Cultivate ambitions
And give absolutely, unequivocally your all.
Because love makes us better than we are,
And what is love, if it is not the beautiful,
And soul singing feeling of fulfilment,
Pride and joy in the existence of another?
What is love if it is not all accepting,
All forgiving and all kind?
Love is a guiding light in life,
Something to aspire towards.
What is love then,
If not the warmth in my chest,
The smile as I fall asleep,
The eagerness with which I wake?
What is love, if not the excitement,
The anticipation you always leave me with?
I ask you then, what is love,
If it is not what I feel for you?
Jaina Dharma
Jaina Dharma, my divine path to Moksha or salvation
to achieve my soul’s ultimate liberation;
through self-effort, non-violence, non-absolutism, non-possessiveness,
renunciation, retrospection, introspection, serenity, and stillness.
I bow in veneration to those already liberated,
traveling on the prescribed paths Lord Jina advocated.
My soul deeply yearns to break through enslaving barriers
of worldly attachments and material desires.
Seeking freedom from the enduring bondage of Karma,
I desire release from the cycle of reincarnation and achieve Nirvana;
to transform to a bodiless state of enlightenment attaining perfection,
infinite knowledge, bliss, power, and perception.
10-18-2014
Religion: Jainism
Contest: Religious Poetry: Non-Christian
Sponsor: Roy Jerden
Placement: 2nd
Note*
Jainism, traditionally known as Jaina Dharma, is an Indian religion that prescribes a path of ahimsa - nonviolence - towards all living beings, and emphasizes spiritual independence and equality between all forms of life. Practitioners believe that nonviolence and self-control are the means by which they can obtain liberation. Ascetism is thus a major focus of the Jain faith. The three main principles of Jainism are Ahimsa (Non-Violence), Anekantvad (Non-Absolutism) and Aparigraha (Non-Possessiveness). The population of Jain community across the world is around 6.1 million.
i'll feel often.
not that you hurts me.
its because i hurted you.
when my emotion volcano bursts,
i lose my control.
and thoughts in my heart flows out as lava.
it may be imaginary or real.
but., after that i feel relax,
not for the flow of lava. but for,
you will understand, my feelings.
its all because of love, affection, caring and possessiveness,
which i had and still have on you.
because, my every heart beat is for you.
every time when it beats not lup tup but.,
by your sweet name.
that is love which i have on you.
how much this world believes.
GOD IS GREAT,
that much i believe,
MY LOVE IS GREAT and
I'M GREAT.
As time flews,
Worries exist for wasting the past.
No matter what happened last,
Its never goanna play a part vast.
Known mistakes committed,
If remembered, leaves heart punctured.
Mind keeps on compromises,
Spirit always confronts.
Smiles for no reasons, bent into
Inner cries in impending spring seasons.
Sorry if I made you cry hence
At least you could understand how I wailed once.
Learnt till extreme to block my tears
Since GOD accounts its every drops.
Thank u.. for your departure taught what World is!!!
And I became skilled of judging persons
I forgave whole heartedly
Please forget how I abandoned you too.
All most a year over spent time in yelling
It’s the point to turn an expeditious back. . .
No more scratched mind,
No more sensitive possessiveness.
No more affectionate tricks.
No more I Love the fake you. .
Time heals the shattered thoughts
Bringing bandages for uncut wounds,
Its my Life I need to take care,
Keep going with all obstacles there.
I remember no longer your voice, your smell,
Your touch. . No more and no more. .
I know you cant survive my Attitude – so
Make your way before your girl friend bid away.
~Hannah
Ruminating over a golden era gone by and over possessiveness filled me with nostalgia
Ultimate luxury of vying for a car as well as owning a chauffeur driven one was
Sadly for the migrated rulers who ruled over another dynasty across oceans
The massive Ford drove into grandpa's driveway in the early forties
Exactly thirty years later it stood dark, forlorn, inviting rust under the banyan tree
Devoid of its master whose ashes were bestrewn within the old British Raj bungalow
Benign weather peeled off layers of its glossy makeup despite its bare upkeep; our
Undulating frustration as it drank too many gallons; moleskin upholstery on bucketed
Seats laid bare its withered ribs, spouting foul smell in rain and sun; the rolling
Tyres busted for the wheels didn't spin down the familiar roads along the hill; our
Eyes got sore at its lost lustre while we heaved deep sighs at its opulent maintenance
Divine providence intervened to refurbish the vintage for glorious view in the Museum
Contest Judged on June 26, 2016
July 1, 2016
For Broken Wings
Contest: I Got Zero, Nothing, Nada - 1
*Migrated rulers refer to the British rule in India
Your love introduced me to the magic world
and awakened my spirit like sunflower to sun
led me to the garden of feeling and affection
where my days passed like dream and nights like wedding….
You taught me to enjoy the beauty
and unleashed the secrets of life's duty
With you I first sang the poetry of real life
With you my imaginations took its first flight.
First time I realized the true meaning and essence
and enjoyed the words like possessiveness, jealousy and passion.
You transformed my solitary life into happy moments
and filled the silence of every nights with music.
I lived in coma till the time I was in your heart’s ICU
And suddenly thrown out from the paradise of love to issues
Where the earthly life of luxury and money entice
I'm struggling for the rest of my life, hoarding materialistic things.
Her body smells of heady perfume with imprints of metaphors on her bruised skin
Adores herself in the vagued mirror
A smile so pleasing yet so harmful
Beads of similes gather to decorate her with a hook to conceal the brutality of her body,
The handcuffs of diamond personifies to the human trait of possessiveness
Accompanied by the golden ring of epithet entangled within her raw hands
Her pierced ears hearken to the ballads of antediluvian times;lips reciting verses of contemporary world
Her fragility lays in the mascara she puts,smudges the kajal with brushes of alliterations
The messy bun incorporates secrets of love and musings of hate alongside a lily holding onto the desires for warmth
Her brittle nails dip into the paint of interjections finishing with a slight coating of delicate red mousse
The cottton dress of yellow now feels accomplished with a hint of storm caressing underneath.
My life
My own life,
Shunning any more strife,
Yearning to live my own special way,
Far from possessiveness that longing could betray,
Living life to its full until last breath is the final goal,
Passion inevitably is master of my body and hearty soul !!
Written Dec25th, 2014
Poet- Dr. Upma A. Sharma
For nette's contest "Enchantment through a prism"
Theme title -5
Awarded 7th place
I have emotions, undone
love I have not won;
My feelings I have shed
for I know what is tread!
To women I shall not bow
Giving an inch they don't allow;
Women with weeping eyes
Take heed, it is not paradise!
By this time all their tears tried
women, don't have to be dried;
Their possessiveness set within
Men lose while they bloody win!
A worm in the wombs of creativity
Lady Poet "silenced" in a Writers' Community
Jeremiah warned our "wicked" hearts defy good intention
Why point to CHRISTmas? The investment at Crucifixion?
NOTE: One writer wrote, "The heart is the mother of all abominations." Thomas BOSTON. Yes, he was a British theologian but while the heart is also capable of love, consider the thin line between love and lust, marriages & abuses, Nationalism & Nazism, pride and possessiveness, Eros & Pornea. More after Christmas, not now. Shalom, shalom (Please pray or meditate on creating positive vibrations)
Being with you is an emotional roller coaster …instability
You circulate my emotions from the heights to the dungeon
my guards are down I own the humility
You are the destroyer of my being, my soul sponge
Being in love with you is my only addiction
Escapades of the heart is uncontrollable
Possessiveness, jealousy, fear of rejection
It’s false evidence, a delusion, complete fiction
I sacrificed everything, now my life takes precedence
Involuntary passion is not consolable
Good bye codependence; hello independence
You love me and then leave me alone
Loving you is not good for me, it’s recklessly wrong
It’s Dysfunctional!!
©2014
Like acid falling on me, my skin does burn
As I wait everyday for you to return
The minutes seem like years but I’ll never run
I’ll wait for you till I become ashes in an urn
I get dressed everyday in my Sunday’s best
Thinking today I’ll see you and then rest
These tired eyes of mine and these bones fragile
But you don’t grace me with your presence, even for a while
I cut myself to pieces and gifted them all to you
I sacrificed all at the altar of love, you know it’s true
I tried to be sensitive and always be there for you
But in that you saw possessiveness and my obsession for you
Now where do I go? Should I turn my back on you?
You think that I cling, when I show my love for you
How can I be in love and not express it in all its hues
Should I just stand around like a dead statue?
I seem insignificant to you, from your perch proud
I am just another person, a face in the crowd
Trying hard to get your attention, competing with those around you
Destined to die loveless, destined to fall through
But I am a fool and I will wait, till sets my life’s sun
My eyes just a dead shadow of what once did burn
I’ll wait till my soul goes back to where its journey had begun
I’ll wait for you till I become ashes in an urn
~WHEN THINGS GO WRONG~
The marriage is over, boredom stepped in,
So out with the old and a new one steps in.
Fun all the way, money to spend
But suddenly you find there will be no good end…
Your heart you were to keep safe from being broken
The love of this man you will find is nothing but token
He is lavish with money he gives your wants and your needs
But it comes with a price when your habit he feeds.
He started you on a downward spiral
If you don’t get off quick you will lose it all…
Your kids you have sworn to keep by your side
Will not want to stay if you end up inside…
Through possessiveness and violence he is in your life
Don’t make the mistake of becoming his wife
Get rid while you can before it’s too late
Bring your kids up in love and never in hate.
You have the support you know where to look
You won’t get any help from reading a book
Turn to your family and listen while you can
Think very hard and get rid of this man.
© 9/06/2012 ~GG~
How can one fathom the most curious emotion of love?
Some ride the very idea of romance their entire existence. Straddling along the
bareback spine of annoyance and tyrannical and zealous possessiveness.
To allow one's self to derive hope and idealistic success, from an originally prescribed
placebo- concocting happiness. Or so we think, as mind-blocked as we are from
voracious persistence. Blocked upon block, upon block.
Tempting the sheer catastrophic gal of aggravated ignorance. We play the fall game
upon a field of cacti, and this emotion seems to captivate our consciousness at a
hallucinogenic level allowing us to drop. Drop. Drop...effortlessly.
It appears to be so minute in a realistic importance, love, but in actuality, it weighs
down more than half of our humanistic ideology -consequently, a cataclysmic downpour
of unfathomable preponderance. Fathomable by the most blissful of minds..