Best Suppose Poems
I suppose..
I loved my scars because they lasted longer then anyone every did.
I suppose..
My demons were screaming louder then they were supposed to be
I suppose..
The people that came in my life made me the girl I didnt want to be
I suppose..
Hiding doesn't fix a thing because one day a person will always find you
I suppose..
That I was better than who I was and I knew I didn't want to be that girl so
I suppose..
That I finally want to be me
Suppose the winds were never again to blow?
Suppose the rivers ceased to flow?
Suppose there never would be another spring?
Suppose a robin was unable to sing?
Just suppose. Just suppose.
Suppose the flowers could no longer bloom?
Suppose there would be no sun or moon?
Suppose the world stopped spinning around?
Just suppose. Just suppose.
Suppose the oceans would suddenly dry?
Suppose an eagle could no longer fly?
Suppose Love was suddenly lost?
Suppose we are left to suffer the cost?
Just suppose. Just suppose.
A Poem By,
Milton L. Delgado
October 28, 2001
Let me read you something,
Something I discovered.
I found it in the attic,
Or possibly the cellar;
Although it may have been
In the cluttered basement.
I dug holes in the ground—
It may have been there,
Like a time capsule
Or buried pirate's treasure.
A bottle washed ashore—
Perhaps the piece which
I must read was there.
In any original place,
It holds words of utmost
Importance to all.
So let me read you something,
Something I discovered.
Oh, but literacy is learned,
Not an inherent talent,
So, I do lament,
I have forgotten what it says.
{For Nelson and Winnie Mandela}
You, me said I to my honey bitter
When like the windy aether,
Blows us hither and thither
Bursting bubbles on elevating air,
I shall sleep dreaming with one eye open
Set you and I free on a chilly rest,
Virtually recalling the immure moments
I shall tell you of inborn pain.
Hence, that in these moments, hours
Days running in weeks, months into years
And coming to these moments,
It's love I suppose so
That I should be waiting, waiting and waiting
For you on this thing that like the windy aether,
Has blown away, blown away till this moments.
I shall sleep through to another day
Because of you, I and the offspring
And watch you through, though my heart is spilling
Could it be my strength has withered?
Or my agility has disappeared?
So when the night comes to eyes
And the silence deafened ears
In those moments, hours, days, weeks and months
And the years, O the years!
Which I have slept through just remembering you.
I have looked your face through,
When you are slumbering, thinking silently
Of your vanity, tells of enchantment saliently.
Let us lay on the lawn
And make sweater nothing of love,
Let us float upwelling in delight for the ocean,
And make sea-wine sip among arteries rejecting behoove.
It is love I suppose so
That I should be waiting,waiting and waiting,
For you on this thing that like the windy aether
Has blown away, blown away till these moments,
And you insinuate without times, whether
That ours prophesy shakable love lust,
It has not gone through the last
Of consent; well, it's all sentimental
Even though, I have gone and mount the pedestal
Like the Baboon drumming
Out his chest so loud;
My head had gone white shouting so loud
And the children care clamoured for
My greater loftier ladder,
Aged head has gone white like cloud.
You would say then, I have waited for ages,
I have trimmed the lamp for ages
I have fumbled with the candle for long;
But then flop;
Fell out of one uniting rope
I went so far flung,
Even though thinking of you then
As I now thinking of you so,
And you have on, on and on thinking then
I would wait for you so.
This is not a poem. This is a quick little rambling about myself and what I do.
I'm not particularly sure if what I write is "poetry" perse.
I suppose I'd consider it a release of my inner most thoughts.
The way I "throw it down", as I'm referring to syllables, placement, rhythm and what not, is only a reflection of how I'm feeling at that time.
Although I wouldn't say I'm a particularly fantastic writer, I do love to engage in it.
Its a release. It's therapeutic. It's..... me.
Now for the fun stuff. Fun? Ah, maybe.
My name is Renee Bousquet. I'm 19 years old. I live in a small little town, the whereabouts of which I will probably not tell you. ;)
I'm an artist, in every sense of word I suppose. I draw, I write.... I.... Oh geeze, I don't even know. All I know, is that in every aspect of life, I tend to see beauty. I use colors to my advantage, I find creativity in the bleakest aspects of life. Art IS my life. Without it? I would be a very sad person.
I'm also bipolar. In saying that, I am by no means looking for any sympathy. I'm more so giving you a small look into who I am. See, I don't see my "bipolar disorder" as a negative thing. I view it as a garden. If I tend to it, take care of it, make sure it doesn't get out of hand, it can be a beautiful, intriguing, and free-spirited aspect of who I am. If I don't however, I get weeds, and pests, and dead plants, and it takes a long time to take care of it.
I also tend to ramble! I'm the queen of digressing!
I love south park. I enjoy sushi. I'm very witty, and enjoy singing self-written songs on the fly. I'm a dork. Extremely comfortable. I'm a free-spirit. I'm also passionate.
I am who I am.
And that's that.
You Suppose To Be My Friend
For you I let the door to the deepest dungeon of my soul open
Yet you went around chanting my faults like a retard anchorperson
Raising your rank by selling me cheap
For popularity is this how low you steep?
You said you would stand with me till the end
You suppose to be my friend.
You weren't lying when you said you had my back
You just didn't mention my spine was suppose to crack
Like being massaged with broken bottles and sand paper
I found my heart buried in sand and cut with paper
Instead of lending me one, you disfigured my hand
You suppose to be my friend.
You suppose to break the jaws of those who backbite me
Yet I found the teeth from your jaws on my back biting
I feel I have lost there's no point fighting
My eyes fail when I look into yours, your ghoulishness blinds me
I'm laying six feet under still breathing yet covered with sand from your bare hands
You suppose to be my friend.
You chomped the gonads to our friendship friend
You were more of a tourist than a friend
Toured me through a paradise that led to deadman's land
Dead bodies all over with missing limbs in the deserted land
Due to the friend that said "I have your back give me your hand"
And I thought you were my friend...
You suppose to be my friend.
Suppose !
You are a god
and there is a man
who is so mad at you
Because you have not watered his crops
Have not submitted his kid's school fees
Have not fed him for two days
And when he hangs himself with a fan
You cut the rope
He spits on you
Slaps you crazily
Holds your collar
Keeps crying
Calls you and your parents names
Will you hold his neck or hug him?
But remember
You
Are
A
God .
Supposed that the sunshine,
hidith thou last sweet nectar,
from the first hummingbird?
The powers that be
show us
what they want us to see
But the whispering wizards
behind the veil,
all have an emerald poker tell
The froggy princes that lead
always gon spit
a little grinning white in your pink eye
Swollen blinks won’t fetid kill,
eye suppose
Just as long as you don’t forget
to cover up your nose
Every Pied Piper wink wink
got a nodding Oz vapor stink,
Toto tear telling you a covetous alibi,
a Dorothy ruby shoes cry
They say they gon make you a ton of gold brick money,
but then silently they secret witchy gon steal it from you
Don’t shut your eyes ... don’t fall for the Dragon Ball Z ruse
The powers that be ,
which fire breath authoritatively,
repeat this phrase often subliminally:
“Do what we say,
don’t try to free-think
Let not morals get in the way,
of a double cross blink”
I suppose greedy dogs
gotta close their eyes one day
Sleepily lie down in the worm dug hole,
pupil-colored glaucoma grey
Friends are suppose to be 'til the end
One's that I've had were just pretend
People don't care about loyalty and trust
Throwing family values away...it's unjust
Everyone forgets to give...only looking to gain
Things we learned growing up became in vain
Betrayal and backstabbing shouldn't be used
This behavior can caus hearts to be bruised
Then surrounded by awful thoughts
Guilt will come...causing you loss
You, I could share everything with
But I know that was just a myth
You pretended to listen and care
When all you wanted was more despair
Taking everything I ever said
And using it against me instead
You just turned everything around
To make sure you knocked me back down
Making friends shouldn't be so hard
But me having trust, you have scared
I remember he says
When I was young
That store on the corner
Was run by an old Jewish couple
I remember the numbers
They had on their arms
And was always curious
Why they did that to themselves
I was so young and naive
And here, he went on,
In the middle of the block
Was a German delicatessen
They had the very best potato salad
I remember them all
On the next block was the bakery
You could smell the bread
Being baked every morning
Not like it is now
I can’t smell nothin’ now
I loved to play stick ball
With the kids on the block
I can still all their faces
And remember all their names
I have seen the life pass away
From this neighborhood
All these streets have changed
I miss those days a lot he said
As a tear rolled down his cheek
He spoke out in a low voice
This isn’t how it was suppose to be
Head bent down almost touching
The stained and crumpled sign
That lay next to an old soup can
That had a few various coins in it
While I started to walk away
I heard him talking to himself
In a hushed quiet voice
Almost impossible to hear
This isn’t how it was suppose to be
This isn’t how it was suppose to be
This isn’t how it was suppose to be
I can still smell the fresh paint from walking on to the ship. So as I walk on the ship, through the halls, it was all new. The sheets had never been slept in, and the china hadn't been used yet. I felt like it was a slave ship taking me back home in chains. All though when I walk into my room I could smell red roses, freshly picked from a rose garden. Now as the engine starts up, I could feel the propellers start to move the ship. As I settle in my room, I feel more anxious to want to leave instead of stay. As the night sets, I walk on to the deck of the ship. I see the beautiful ocean as the ship sail's across the ocean, with the moon and star's, light shinning on the ocean's waters, it looked so beautiful. I can feel the air blowing in my face as I stand on the deck, while the ship is in full speed. I have a terrible feeling come over me, as I try to sleep in my room. All I can see is the every day people talking about the same things over and over again. I feel like a slave that has too sit up straight and not slouch, and I can't be happy I have to be serious all the time. I felt like I was the broken ship, wanting to jump off the ship. Then the ship crashed and all I hear is people crying for help and, the ship is sinking and all I can think of is all of those lost souls, so innocent not knowing what was going to happen to them. Now the ship has sunk and all the people are yelling for help but no one comes because its too late for them so after awhile i can't hear them yelling out any more, then a light shines and I have been saved. Saved from all the pain, and all of the suffering from being a slave. I'm free now free like a bird, I'm freed from all of the pain.
I look at you and I see perfection
even though you’re moving in the wrong direction.
You’ve hurt me by tearing my heart
and forcing us to be apart.
Your eyes are an intriguing sky blue
which I’m drawn to like glue
whilst your smile lights up my day
resulting in me not knowing what to say.
My friends tell me to stay away
thinking you will lead me astray
They don’t know the real you
and now I feel like there’s no ones here to turn to.
I hate parking in supermarket car parks,
with scrapes and dents, or scratches common place.
They’re a request to join demolition derby,
and some of the parking is a damn disgrace.
To find a parking space at times is like gold,
and even when you are parked there is the fear,
of an opportunist lurking down the aisles,
and break in to steal what helps in buying gear.
Of course there’s shopping in the supermarket,
and with your mind focused in the place you are,
and while you are making your choices off the shelves,
somebody out in the car park steals your car.
That’s why my passenger is fierce old Brutus;
a mean Rottweiler guard dog who likes to harm.
He’s the perfect fit for an opportunist,
liking nothing better than tearing off an arm.
When I finally find a vacant parking space,
Brutus was lying flat out on the back seat,
so for him I wound a window down half way;
I did not want him suffering from the heat.
While walking backwards up onto the footpath,
I shout a command, ‘you stay, do you hear me!’
Not once, but repeated many, many, times.
A little crowd were listening to my plea.
Out of the crowd a woman; yes she’s a blond,
stepped up to join me, and help with a remark,
‘why don’t you do what everybody does.
Why don’t you just put your car in to park?’
The sound of fighting jolts me from sleep,
alone in the darkness of my room.
And tears wash away fragments of dreams,
as angry screams dominate the gloom.
I hide under my blanket in fear
as anguish rips the love from my heart.
And I pray to God, please make it stop,
but it doesn't, and hope falls apart.
Dad flings empty beer bottles at mom,
hollering that he's nobody's fool!
And I wish he would pass out again,
or mom would back off and let things cool.
Muffled rants follow bouts of crying
as hurtful words erupt into tears.
And loud shouts explode into the night
while I curl up and cover my ears.
Punches start inflecting undo pain,
for as always, push morphs into shove.
And hugging my knees, I wet the bed,
I hate this man; I'm supposed to love.
(Quatrain)
5/6/2017