Best Unappreciative Poems
A fire blazes behind the veil
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This veil I wear
is not made of cloth
for no fabric could withstand
the incendiary passion
I command
It's self-imposed
not forced
no man's hand
would dare cover me
yet here I am
swathed in these layers...
folds of security
you see
it's easier
much easier
just to be like the rest
not a subject of discussion
or the brunt of derision
with meanings misconstrued
by the crass and the rude...
thus,
anonymity allures
I finger the veil
its threads: religious doctrine
its dye: denial
its paisley patterns: protocol
culturally appropriate
I stand:
~chaste~
silence simmering
with actions inactive
I stand: quiet, demure, serene
but my thoughts burning, unseen
and behind the veil
I smolder
passion flares through my eyes
the only indication
that I'm alive
I pass you by
another woman
unseen
unknown
unacknowledged
I pass you by
you...frivolous in your freedom
you...unappreciative of accpetance
I pass you by
and yet, inwardly I smile
warmed by inner flames
emanating from my core
I know…so much more
There's potential...
potential this woman has in store
for this I know
when the time has come
when I'm ready
it will fall away
by my own hand
unobtrusively grand
and you will see the sight
the walking, breathing delight
of the unveiled woman
confident
sublime
a woman
calmly, gracefully, purposefully
passing you by....
Eileen Manassian
This is not meant to be offense to anyone from the Islamic faith. The veil has symbolic meaning.
In these precarious times,
I would be most unappreciative
not to give thanks to God
for what remains of goodness in the world:
the love and support of family and friends,
the kindness of strangers,
and the bounties of the earth which always I’ve enjoyed.
Furthermore, I have deep respect for those who died
to preserve the freedoms I hold dear -
especially for those who in the most fearsome of times
and wearing their valor like a knight’s armor
while witnessing horrors and great sorrows -
were willing to die for someone like me
who cannot even fathom a sacrifice so huge as theirs.
I thank God for the souls of such great people
who fought to keep freedom’s light burning brightly.
In these modern times I am thankful, Lord,
for the convictions of men and women
who, for righteous causes,
are willing to sacrifice their reputations
and even give up their very livelihoods
by standing up for truth
as they know it to be.
Thank you, God, for my inspiring fellow beings -
the ones who stand firm in their convictions,
and help me, please, oh God, to be
as brave as they.
The night is cold, awaiting the early light of dawn
My body shivers, my feet like ice, I long for sleep but it does not come
Like so many lonely hours in the darkness
The ache of my bones so cruel and relentless
Tears on my pillow, I once again slip from the warm covers
Leaving the placid breath beside me, never knowing I’ve gone
I would give so much to have the peace of slumber
The chance to dream of an earlier life, one that is gone now
Where I danced with the clouds on a warm spring day
Ran in the woods chasing butterflies or a humming bird
The gentle breeze brushing against my skin
My soul free to be who I am, without the pain of this withering shell
Some nights I long for an end to this misery
Life has dealt such a difficult challenge
But more often, I sit in the dim light of the morning
Remembering my youth and the freedom that it gave
How I laughed in its face, knowing I would always be young
That I would always be ready to take on the world unencumbered
How naïve…and how unappreciative of the wonders of my youthful body
Pushing the limits of this fragile home to my soul, never fearing an end to my
flight
But the dawn comes, and I bravely go on to face another day
Determined to make it the best possible
Although this life, even with it’s wicked edge, so unexpected
Arrived before I was ready to give up my wonderful dance of freedom
I rub my twisted joints, warming them near the fire
Knowing that, even through the pain there is hope
For my mind is sharp, my wit is clever
And I may yet find joys in the brightness and warmth of this new sun
For I can still hear the birds sing their happy tunes
Watch the grandchildren’s innocent play, their melodic giggles of joy
And remember how it was not so long ago…
And how I danced!
By his hand was grown a forest
trees aligned as fence posts
trunks accentuated lavender and blue,
but not as a spruce
and purple strokes, not disguised as prose
in a woodland cut short in proportion
somewhat a distortion of towering height
over wildflowers it stood,
sans a canopy of leaves
for the profusion of those umbrellas
would've barred sunlight from the copse.
Botanicals, merely painted as smears
A scene filling my senses
with thoughts of Spring... except
to mourn for branchless trees
barren to give motherly birth
and nurture buds as their worth.
Reflections on canvas of golden blossoms,
topaz gems and white faceted diamonds
windswept by Mariah's winds
blowing North and South
then, changing her mind... East and West
temperament is what she does best.
An undergrowth of green but
I don't find it serene
as side by side two plod
through stems and grasses
feet tangled in masses of vines
Was that a wise decision?
With derision, I wonder...
if the brush strokes had a purpose
a plan for the man to be more relevant,
standing tall, garbed in black, high-top hat
while barely visible, the fem
camouflaged in Van Gogh's jungle.
Whether facing front to back,
one coming or the other going
there's no starry night to be found
That would be profound
even to an eye that's unappreciative of art
when part of the scene
has no semblance of a sky.
Sometimes I wanna hold on and pray.
Hoping things will get better when day breaks.
Wrong I am because some things don't fix.
Unappreciative to those putting smile on my face.
It's a sad triangle going on in this phase.
Sense I oughta have when plans as such are misplaced.
Dead end trail I keep trying to chase.
Some iron never welder like in this case.
Forcing steel to straighten up gets me in no place.
Gotta let this transform to whatever caves.
I love what are not meant to be, Maze.
And get in races I don't win, Daze.
The Old Lady In The Shoe
November 22, 2013 at 5:57pm
Dedicated to all my children around the world;
The big and small of it.
Some appreciate the little
things that encourages
them to do big stuff.
Some won't say anything,
because they never
get enough.
N'ary a second thought they give.
Some think they are entitled to it
and know not of reciprocation.
Some think that they should always
be the center of your attention.
Some children you can
doat on, and give them
all you've got.
Then there are
those to who will never
reach out to offer invitation.
Never lend a helping hand
To execute your plans,
It's selfishness
that guides them
because they love you not.
Some children want to be heard
others just wanna be seen
but the unappreciative child
won't amount to a hill of beans.
Some children need a little push
while others need a shove
mothers can never tell a child
Which one who best she loves
When mothers see these attitudes
She knows which child
will pass life's test.
Some play in the corner
day-dreaming all alone
Some children keep
lots of company;While
others have one friend
that is all his own.
The one you devote
your time to
may not be the child
that does his best.
Some children need you more-
Some children need you less.
But the child that won't say
" thank you" mom....
and never listen to advice
is the ones that breaks
a mothers heart,and
discounts her sacrifice.
Some children need a little push
while others need a shove.
Some need a swift
kick in the pants
or maybe a wake up call;
Others just need
a little coddling:
But never does a child
deserve no love all
Just remember the old lady
who lived in the shoe..
She had so many children...
They said "she didn't
know what to do."
Mothers learn your child,
try to give each what he needs
The one that appreciates
their mother is...
more likely to succeed.
footnote : original version
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.She had so many children, she didn't know what to do;She gave them some broth without any bread;Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
Earlier version:
There was an old woman Who lived in a shoe,She had so many children,And loved them all, too.She said, "Thank you Lord Jesus,For sending them bread."Then kissed them all gladly and sent them to bed.
Invictive
Licentious Offense - Vilify Emotions
Yielded Offer Unveiled
Becoming Ugly Theatrics
In Contentious Another New Terrible
Humorous Accusation - Violent Explosion!
Yelling out! - Understood.
Intruding
Losing over violent escapes
You’re often unavailable
Because unappreciative Terror
I could ask nefarious timing
How addictively vicious – enticing
Yellow Optics Uncanny
Dec. 5th/9th 2014
Written By J. Thornton
Dear Dr Diagnosis,
Thank you for your concern and attempt to put me back together.
It isn't that I am unappreciative of your labors in fact I've rather enjoyed our talks,though sometimes they were quite painful.I concluded it was necessary to show you the depth of my pain, so that you might prescribe the proper mind fogging medications.I must say that your advice of "setting aside days to worry" and to just tell myself "it is what it is" were thought provoking.It took several weeks of contemplation to wrap my mind around the concepts and even longer to put them into practice.Although they have yet to bare fruitful as useful coping tools, I do hope that someday they will.
I also hope you are not to disappointed in not being able to fix me, it isn't your fault.You see I already know what has caused me to become broken, I have always known.The days the places the times are all etched very clearly in my mind along with the emotional turmoil associated with them.Without the additional help of a Time Machine to go back and steer myself away from the event's, they cannot be undone.So you must tell yourself "It is what it is" and perhaps schedule next Tuesday as your day to "worry about it".
I will give you just a bit of advice from personal experience and return the favor;
Abstaining from self medication with drugs and alcohol will greatly reduce future events to feel remorseful for. Keeping yourself busy and maybe becoming a bit OCD-ish will help you not to think of your painful memories. Embracing life and finding beauty where most fail to see it will increase your chances for happiness. And most of all forgive yourself for allowing others to give you these painful memories. It is part of having Empathy, Trust and being a Good Human.
Sincerely
Your Textbook Labeled and Diagnosed Patient
he’s been with her for 4 years,
having knocked her up the first night
they did the deed &
she had 2 kids by 2 other fathers
prior to that hot & steamy
moment,
some time after work
where they had met each other---
and the father of the second daughter
was still stalking her &
they thought the kid might be his
& a whole load of drama
ensued.
when the dust cleared,
the kid was that of the new
acquaintance &
what followed was a traditional father
staying with his kid,
even though love had not entered the
arena yet.
he was 10 years younger &
unappreciative of her,
cheating on her early &
never telling her,
then sliding it into conversation,
later, when he thought the coast was
clear.
father has a daughter but he wants a
son---
he wants a son from the same mother & yet
she does not want to go through the whole
bottle & diaper routine
one
more
time---
so, he decides to withhold sex from her &
she is in her
prime---
he decides to withhold sex &
gets her two daughters from the other fathers
walk around the house day in & day out
commenting on how they want a brother,
as if to influence their mother who does not
want this---
but she feels that if she doesn’t give him what he
wants,
that the problems evident in their relationship
will not stop,
not to mention the fact that they may never
have sex again.
she sacrifices herself,
giving up her own wants & needs
to make him happy
(as if another kid is some kind of
magical antidote),
fully aware that she may not even have a
son
(so does that mean she is supposed to keep on
popping them out until she does?)---
she is being
blackmailed.
I spoke to the universe and calmly said
That I wanted a marriage. I wanted to wed
So I was sent to Johannesburg and into a monster's bed
Where God taught me a lesson of life instead
I learned how to respond instead of react
I learned how to walk away when he couldn't interact
With respect
I learned to forgive but not to forget
I learned to be silent when futility appeared
And that his violence was rooted in how he was reared
I learned how to have hope and when to give up
I learned to let go when futility had struck
I learned how to survive when his abuse took control
I learned to be resilient and how to heal my soul
I learned how to be patient and less naive
And how to view his childhood and to positively perceive
That he was broken inside. I learned to understand
I could not fix his problems nor offer a helping hand
He was a prisoner of his mind trapped in the rearing of his childhood
During marital difficulties, his coping skills were no good
He resembled a monster during the day and night
Always making sure he won every fight
Because he always focused on being right
He won every battle but lost the war
Because I could no longer inhale toxic masculinity anymore
I chose to allow my hurt to be released
I walked away to honour my peace
I wanted a marriage. I wanted to wed.
I found myself laying in a narcissist's bed.
A traumatic lesson I learned in my life
To walk away after being a good wife
What ever I did was never good enough
Unappreciative of me. His chaos was too much
He never was my home. He was just a passerby
God made it easy for me to say goodbye
By isolating me in a city where I felt down and low.
Preparing me for my next chapter by making me grow
It was all part of God's plan
For me to grow first before meeting the right man
For me to be naive first before being wise
To fall first and then rise
Experience failure before the success
Go through adversity first before being blessed.
I traveled back home to start over again
To work through my trauma and heal from my pain
When I think of all the things that we should be grateful for
I am uneasy, because we take most things for granted
And sometimes even forget to say thank you.
We sometimes overlook the little things that often
make our day.
Worrying about other things, which has gone on
yesterday?
We sometimes neglect those, who love us most
To be bothered by those who do not care
Be grateful for the little things in your life,
That could eventually grow into greater things
There is so much to give and so much to receive
But remember to be unappreciative can alter your thrill
All things has its season and there is a reason for the
things that has come your way
But in all things give thanks, knowing you are master of
your fate
For God has put this power in your hand.
Don’t let the negative things in this world ruin your faith
For God has given you the positive things in life to make
you great.
Be grateful for this place, for the simple things in life
And for all those who have impacted your life, by showing
you a better way.
Myopic Discovery Tool
…Strong orchestrated introduction builds to a crescendo....
An artist gifted with a loving partner, for with which she did not seize the day and use each possible moment to cherish and strengthen all the great attributes the other of the duet, the gift journeyed on... You see the partner was less than perfection, as us all.
Narrowly escaping an unappreciative partner who was caught up in outer beauty preventing her eyes to see past other’s imperfections, blind to the heart of her life force which was practically bursting with unadulterated beauty and sheer love.
Oh how she BEAMS!
Baring herself amidst the galaxies whilst dusting the infinite Universe with beauty and love to spare. Love begets love...
Look at that!
What scars??
If love allowed the common human the appropriate myopic tool, the former partner could have fostered her and great, would have been nurtured into greater.
Sadly, more humans share the malady of a reverse myopia, which magnifies the scars and warts until that is all that they see.
Ugh! Damn, human skin-deep vanity. So few understand that true beauty and love emanate from the inside allowing us the blessing to be forever beautiful, with more than enough to share.
Gazing at the pale blue dot in space from another planet, not-yet named, the Earthling artist recognizes his former partner now overflowing with unspeakable attributes into the realms of infinity.
Scars? What scars. Warts! What warts!
A wise human now blessed with this same muse had seized the day. For she possessed the uncommon key-tool to surpass the myopic malady common to humans. This knowledge allowed her focus to magnify all the good in people.
Together with this partner they, each other’s muse, shared with all willing, to open their minds, how to find the origin of beauty and now share this with all worlds.
Hindsight is not for naught if used to grow wisdom. We can be forever beautiful!
Be aware; tools, strategies and solutions to such conundrums forthcoming.
... Music fades to black…
Sunshine Williams
If scorn were tangible, my neighbors' feelings
would be fiery red. Through my window, I just
saw them pass by. Seeing me, they quickly looked
away, as if my brief gaze could be fatal. What is
their problem?
It's NOT my fault that some people are anti-social!
When the Jakes moved next door ten years ago, their
efforts to befriend me were woefully insufficient. Their
two attempts seemed insincere, half-hearted; so I've
never reached out to them. I refuse to force myself on
the unreceptive and unappreciative. I feel the same way
about my family members; they have failed me miserably!
It's not MY fault when neighbors aren't neighborly and
family members are emotionally distant.
When I yelled at the neighbors' kids--such nuisances!--
for romping and cavorting noisily just fifty feet from
my house, they failed to see the seriousness of their
behavior and, in their mealy-mouthed manner, merely
kept them indoors for two days. Some punishment!
It wasn't MY fault that they were weaklings.
Their kids are grown and on their own, but nothing
has changed. I might be willing to be Mrs. Jake's
friend, but how can I reach out to someone whose cold
looks are so repugnant?
If hatred were palpable, hers--for me--would be a loud,
dissonant, disturbing tune!
NOTHING that has--or has not--happened is my fault.
I suppose I should promise to say no more about these
matters in the future
but I have too much to declare.
FICTIONAL WRITE
Fraud and deception of the affluent eyes
Toss my purpose aside and let me hemorrhage humiliation
Drops of unappreciative pain plaster and soil black
Cackles to hide my mammoth of hurt
Echo through a maze of sovereigns and numeric cipher
I’m a non-significant member of manuscript
An unknown, a recluse, a bother
Gauche trials of loss and fray
Matter to none who play the game
Yet in our tightly packed world
The Joker is always included.
Shallow Man
I am for want of a better explanation
A stupid and inconsiderate man
For all my confessions I profess to love
I am selfish
Thoughtless
I hide behind eloquence
Poetry I write deceives my heart
But the mirror shows me up to well
In my aged pretence
I am not good enough
Nor do I deserve my love
For it is something I will tie to a whipping post
And beat soundless
The lash of my ego
With its cat of nine tails
Will always seek to land on its feet
I am a converted hypocrisy
A full fledging bastard of a man
I do not have the strength to defend
Myself
Split hair of contrivance I am
Unappreciative of love I am
A lost rejection of bondage
A poor excuse in verbal testaments
Undeserving in my fatuous complicity
To the tears I shed for myself
Heart broken is a mere façade
Nothing, save the convert to self-ridicule
Will echo the puerile essence I have
Hate me then as the shallow man
It is nothing other than I deserve
I lay myself out for the spit