Best Pressured Poems
Silent Heart
Sad, as it maybe, I had to break my OWN heart,
Too many nights, I sat there all torn apart
A dream girl,
Sitting under its own corrupted auspices sky
You the poet, in disguise
Telling white lies about, your love for me
Saying I'm a born from the sky....
A match, a queen, your muse, your everything
I'm no good, I admit this once more,
Your advice, I forever adorn
It's time to follow the crying crows and praise what is left
Afraid to listen my rhymes weren't cutting it,
I release it all!
Your smiles, words, and worn out shoulders
I walked away
Silently--
I acted on
Without a word, in a fetal stage I awake
Tonight you carry a tune for others
A story of a man who stole my soul of sins
A poet, I long forevermore
Always, you will own the only sound that still beats inside
To live alone, in silence, asleep in my own world
I had to let go,
-Of him, whose name I whisper in darkness
The only thing that remains is the echoes of pouring rain
Too many reasons, writer's block, took full moon
You are a poet, from another lifetime,
Down in Mandalay, I can no longer ask you to stay
Reading everything about my life, silent and old
Alliterating poems, greeting every dark shadow, normally yours
Many nights I waited, long for the moment of my OWN return
Instead, I found myself alone
Trying to dust off yesterday's verse, yesterday's dirt
Cobweb remains on my page
My pen now sits like a twig
No motion, since the day I decided I am not worthy of the wait
You the poet, who walks my way
I pressured less of me every day
Like Aspen, a forever winter cold!
Isolated to the world
In your eyes, you wonder why,
I trace the white smoke standing in your place?
To savor your words, once more
It's too soon to breathe again.
I hope you understand,
How can I continue to love when I don't even love myself?
By:PD
Before you read my poem below please know:
This poem is generalised and not aimed at any individual
It is solely my observation and voice!
~~~~~~~~~~~
Why must it be analysed and dissected
To whether a poet comments or not
We all do what we choose to do
We are a mixed bunch in this poetry pot
Some poets just like to write and read poetry
They are not interested in anything more
That is entirely their right and prerogative
That is what they are here for
Others like the social interaction
Making connections and poet friends
What you give, what you get here
On you it solely depends
Who we are …our wants and needs
Is our own personal choice
There are no set of commenting rules
No do’s or don’ts….no dictating voice
What another poet chooses to do
Is nobody else’s concern
As long every poet is respectful
Respect will be returned
Comment or not, turn comments off, or even block
Just do what ‘YOU’ want to do
Never feel pressured to do anything less
“To thyself you must be true”
There are an abundance of poets here
Who thrive on interaction and chat
They comment, encourage, support ,connect
Poets aplenty rich in socialising are here in fact
No judgement, criticism, negativity ,nor pressure should any poet face
Just a kind, caring and respectful environment on the whole
We are all unique and special individuals
Writing and enjoying poetry…..our united goal!
I stare at dusk-tinged mountains to the east,
anticipating joyously the rise
of an old friend not pressured in the least
to meet my frantic schedule, I surmise.
I cannot rush the moon, although I reckon
that if I could, I would request she hurried.
Though "miles to go before I sleep" do beckon,
the Empress of the night sky moves unworried.
Some obligations elsewhere do await
my undivided interest to be theirs.
But if I linger for her, I'll be late
provoking shaking heads and unkind stares.
My heart of hearts desires to be unbound
from shackles of these deadlines and constraints;
to bathe in yellow radiance full and round
and gaze in peace at this still life she paints.
Debating thus, she crowns over yon mountains;
entranced under her beauty, I stand hushed.
Her rays are elegant, florescent fountains -
I'm thankful that the moon cannot be rushed.
Written May 2016
I rise from deep within the earth
out of pressured lavas
I rise above the level into
breathable realms
I rise following the risen
He who set my path and
monitors my lift lovingly
tenderly, yet such pinions
given of steeliness unpluckable
I rise for the grace of the Father,
for the loving sacrifice of the Son,
for the Spirit, all Powerful, Ever-present,
All Knowing – I rise from man's mental
coma...from delirium of his lesser ego,
from estrangement of his physical-obstinance;
climbing higher, into loftier, far brighter reality
of being...
cleanly exalted, my consciousness purified –
I rise on frequencies of heavenly choirs...
throngs of worshiping angels welcoming, wings
fanning my once fuming soul – all the while
singing Praise to Christ, man's Conqueror Lord:
The slayer of Death; the Subduer of devils
and their throngs of whispering, shouting,
deafening demons;
I rise from out under the Master Liar...jealous possessor,
once Arc of God's Most beloved till Fallen...
I rise on a divine swell of compassion and forgiveness –
carried yet higher, on upward, surging tide of greater purification,
resurrected with Divine momentum...a soaring sea of expanding
spiritual freedom...
It is Easter,
as The Risen One anointed, so shall we follow
and rise!
“Glory to God
in His Highest!”
In winter’s grasp, an aging woman stands
Emerald eyes like jewels gleam
Slightly touched by the passing of time
But a lifetime etched 'pon her wrinkled hands.
Her pressured youth has long passed
Yet grace and compassion are retained
Wisdom gained through joys and tears
Reflected in those eyes pine-green untamed
Shamrock eyes, deep stories they hold
Many sheltered secrets remain
Tales of love and loss will forever bind
Her heart to truth that is tamed
Behind those eyes, a universe unfolds
A journey filled with triumph, joy and fears
Like ancient trees, their roots forever hold
Essence of her dreams throughout the years
A solitary piece the diamond
precious rare gem most treasured
by those lucky enough to hold
Once in possession, it is rarely out of grasp
Like the gemstone, the mother
requires exacting conditions
to maintain her (family/) children’s love
Treasured forever in her heart
she will go out of her way
to preen and protect them
holding them dear to her
deep within her maternal safe – the heart
closely guarded by the mind
Her infatuation of all treasures to her
understandable
especially when you think about the complexity
of structure and process took in the creation
Just as from the ‘unbreakable’ in ancient Greek
this allotrope of carbon
with the strength of bonding between atoms
is representative of a love so strong
between mum and child
The Maternal being - could be compared
to the supreme physical qualities of the stone
Even the characteristic lustre
of this gem so prevalent from its ability
to disperse light and colour
compared to the many strengths
roles and qualities of the mother
seen by the many she deals with daily
A most high-pressured job
versus the high-pressured temperature
within the Earth’s mantle
that forms the delightful rock it gives birth to
Infants delight and ignite the forbearer
just as the jewel would dazzle the room
a mother’s love captures the magical lustre
of those born, and nothing
stands in between this richest of cargo’s
I've got a fist full of Buddha,
And a fist full of Rand,
A pocket full of Jesus,
And the other's filled with sand,
That's in case I need to make some glass,
As it will proceed my foot in relation to your class,
That's a diametric description of an uncommon process,
I use it to repel obnoxious thoughts and logic,
The political storm seems to be the hot topic,
But what I see is dinosaurs in power,
Who don't want to get off it,
The ball, you dropped it,
Gigs up, you lost it,
Wings done, let's sauce 'em,
Awareness has blossomed,
We done playing possum,
You're boss, we want him,
Bring him down to the bottom,
And let's make him aware of our consciousness.
Are you really missing this?
Yo this is Excentrix,
Rich's psyche been known to split in an instant,
I represent a hulk like samurai witch,
Equipped to solve problems via the switch,
Cuz the man inside there is just a little kid,
See I tell the truth even when I lie,
Puttin' juice in busted axioms like Pie in the Sky,
"Yo dude, you know that's an idiom?"
Suck it, you're an idiot,
Guards, get rid of him!
I'm a linguistic mystic,
Suffering from a transpiritual sickness,
Where I'll always be a kid,
And live through my own deliverance.
Witness as I stab my own body of Christ,
Feels so nice to bleed emotion into the night,
With Excentrix as my weapon of my own conception,
I can justify intervention into the seas of deception,
Cleverly apply art to the lesson,
Of respecting yourself and recognizing transgression,
I don't need a stinking studio session,
Just flex my pen and in the end I'm winning,
My mental digestion invents a feeling,
That feeling going to climb me to the top of nimbus,
Behind us is a portal to another dimension,
Forgot to mention I'm the medium for the transmission,
I must be the exception because I'm good at listening.
I flip furniture when pressured,
Then turn a lecture,
Into a story told next to a lectern,
No disrespect sir,
But I'm disturbed by your indiscretion,
So curb your enthusiasm,
Before I burn this whole place down with plasma,
I got the EMP flow I brought back from the Matrix,
Excentrix is MVP for knowing when to go back to the basics,
Take it from me,
The artistic process is worth taking a stab at,
Just to prove that we're all humans,
And American Celebrity is mostly a magic act.
Mother Earth bearded with trees,
Blanketed with skin of sod,
Her stony organs composed
of caves, caverns and caches,
Banking precious minerals and gems.
Sustained by the Solar system surrounding her,
and nourished from relished rescources within.
Her ferocious fiery heart
Pumps high pressured molten blood
Through vast veins of ledge,
Bleeding it from mountain pores,
Crater wounds and fissures
on her ocean floors,
Causing salty Tsunami tears
to ripple across her cheeky shores.
Her face wrinkled with the majesty of mountains,
Dimpled with canyons and crevasse,
Stained with grasslands and Savannahs,
and spotted with veneer of velveteen moss.
Pimpled by hills leaking with raging rivers,
bathed in cascading waterfall showers,
and crystal blue water lakes.
Animated by nature,.. her soul, ..her DNA
She adorns her antiquity
with shocking arrays of multicolored wildflowers,
Delicious fruit, a vital ensemble of vegetables,
Herbs, artifacts of energy and natural wonders;
Creating an electrifying, atomic, atmosphere
to stage her exotic creatures and precious beings.
Adorned by a circling celestial priceless pearl,
An exquisite orb as ancient as She.
She, this blue planet,
Center of her spatial stage,
Unabashed, pirouetting, posing,
Tilting and lilting her charms,
to a universal audience of retreating astral beings.
She, spotlighted by an extravaganza of stellar luminaries.
She, Earth, so powerful, energized, extraordinary,
Mesmerizing, distinguished, mysterious,
Thought by many to be the godess,
Star of the Show...
And yet...
and yet ..she herself..
and All of nature..
has been ..
CREATED.
From my balcony, I watch children play:
their color blindness encourages me.
They do not let skin shades stand in their way;
playing games together, for all to see.
I hear laughter, with no sarcastic sting:
there are no racial slurs slung to degrade.
As I observe these fledgling birds take wing:
my worries for our future slowly fade.
A culturally closed society
is like a wound, in need of a suture.
It bleeds out, pressured by anxiety,
and yet, these children can change their future.
Watching these kids play, I don't feel sorrow;
I feel hope for a better tomorrow.
A short little guy,
walks by,
"please don't mind me,"
he wobbles.
His shadowed face it asks,
"is it five o'clock already?"
He hasn't had a meal,
his belly rumbles.
He sits outside the local market,
waving at each passing patron,
how busy they are,
ignoring his kind gestures.
His kindness is mistook,
with leers of suspicions,
just a little man,
in a big world, so pressured.
A lost soul,
who once had it all,
homeless,
people set his measure.
A hobo,
he's defined,
by his,
unfortunate life.
Is he,
only thoughts to you,
as bread is,
to taste the knife?
Do you believe,
that all is well,
in his world,
because he has survived?
A kind gesture,
would mean so much,
he's begging for,
acceptance from passersby.
Condemned and broken,
like the cracked bricks,
where he seeks,
warmth for the night.
Just a little man,
holding onto,
a simple gesture,
to stay connected with life.
We created a dream…
A collage of triumphs hoisted high,
We spun a misty halo
And left
brisk utterances hidden inside
our pensive sigh
They redrew
a nexus of sun and doom colluding
with inexplicable shadows
For our freedom to be whisked away,
To await
a freshly arching course
This freedom sows nothing
but
an estranged black hole returned to life…
and borne anew
Unfelt and wielding a people’s wish,
turned to ash
Confirms
a grinding and sapping strife for all,
bar the few…
A covenant trampled
and delivered as doubt
It’s meant to flow unhindered
but ours is sated
Resting to regain its lost breath
amid whispers and tears
Regains its image to emerge
as a fallow truce
A seething trust before
real freedom brews
Words lie broken and promises creased
Winter smog mixed with liberated fatigue
A cocktail of sweat and pressured peace
Leaning on a state of grime
imbued
with loosened tricks
I arrive at my job site 1-1 1/2 hours early
every work day as a rule generally.
I relax on a public bench with my container of coffee
while I psych myself to prepare for the day's hard work ahead of me.
A magnificent Rottweiler was being walked as I sat there one morning..
My first thought when I saw him was "Endearingly Menacing."
The dog looked at me, I looked at him
and then all of a sudden,
the dog came charging
at me directly and definitely.
I fought the natural instinct to flee.
That might trigger something in the dog predatory,
so I decided that a smile and open arms would be my greet
to this beautiful beast approaching rapidly, intimidatingly towards me.
He pounced on me with great force and weight
and began slobberingly, lovingly licking my entire face.
Since then every single one of my work days
involves Maximus and I carrying on this way.
He is the perfect start for all of my high pressured work days.
After playing with Maximus, all of my pre work anxieties fade away.
*
Special thanks to Elizabeth, Maximus's mommy
for allowing Maximus to hang with yours truly.
*
Maximus and I
To Be Continued?
*
Intense thirst in the sweltering desert,
yet, the emerald succulents still thrive;
for surviving, often takes extra effort.
Intense thirst in the sweltering desert;
Then cool moon arrives, as if pressured.
A beautiful, flowering cacti night, alive!
Intense thirst in the sweltering desert,
yet, the emerald succulents still thrive.
Some people try too Hard
Some people push too much
They will end up by themselves
No one likes to be pressured on
If you hear a "NO", respect
If someone ask you for time, comply
Not everyone is ready
Some people need more time...
There are different kinds of bullies
But they all hurt likewise
Some hurt with their fists,
Some with words,
Some, making you feel like crap
Don't walk over someone's feelings
Yours is not the only heart to get hurt
You can't force someone's affection
That's not how it works, so move on!
It doesn't matter if you've good intentions
If in the end you hurt someone
Treat others like you want to be treated
It's the right thing to do, so be done!
What matters most in life
Are not the possessions you built up
Because when you're gone they'll be just things
that will be passed on,
They'll be gone
The friendships you made
The hearts you touched with kindness
They'll be the legacy you'll leave
They'll make you be remembered
Be good, be kind, be strong
Life is not easy, but it's so worth fighting for...
Forgive yourself, share a smile,
Take a deep breath...
...Everything will be fine...
August 15, 2018
In the world of today girls feel the need to sexualize themselves.
Social validation is more important to them than personal values, family, and getting good grades.
Makeup and skincare can be found in their online shopping carts—
replacing Christmas wish lists
along with clothes that are two sizes too big or two sizes too small.
They get so anxious when they can’t find their makeup
that they hyperfixate on their hair and clothes and pray that their face wont receive as much attention.
Their crooked teeth and hairy legs start to feel like defects that are yet to be fixed.
They let their old interests sit in boxes and collect dust in the attic because they’ve been peer-pressured into believing that they’re childish and uncool—
just like they were convinced that food was bad
and teaming up with their own bodies to fatten them
and make them too big to fit in their own minds.
In the world of today, some cant afford to buy food.
And those who can often wish they didn't need it,
because they can also afford screens,
and they can afford to spend all the time they’re not working
getting addicted to the digital drugs we’ve convinced ourselves are not the problem.
Because nothing is ever a problem—
not to those with cool vacation pictures and straight A’s.
Nothing is ever a problem
for those whose perfect teeth and smile serve to display their picture-perfect lives.
In the world of today, life starts being difficult at age fourteen.