Best Validations Poems
Life is short,
life is spry
like a crisp, little french fry
that gets stolen
if you fail to watch over it.
It's written in the name
of two moments
that hold hands and pass by.
On edges of death,
it startles those
who stay drunk on love
and those who dare to fly.
The brave have so much to do with life
while the meek simply wait to die;
the meek ones,
that like clockwork
tick their way to an eternal stillness.
Life, that we spend fretting
over death
hoping, we can accept with open arms
when faced with the end of it;
life, that we spend dying
everyday,
while trying not to get killed.
We hope, with love,
someday our tumblers will fill
and overflow;
while we quite often forget to give.
Like wild pigeons fluttering
with the morning light,
we try to run and rise.
Leaving poetries, songs
and stories behind;
damaging souls like ours
on rewind,
we crawl and scratch
our way through life.
When validations cease to matter
and you shut
the loud distinct chaotic chatter,
when you love
with all that passion
and with that roaring obsession
which burns within you
without the fear of losing
or dying in the static run;
you know you've learnt
to waltz with life,
with life that is spry
like a crisp, little french fry.
They approached me in an inconspicuous way
as quaint & confusing disillusionments do,
saying, " Hello, you're the best - "
I replied reluctantly,
" Thats why I weep every night - " ,
crying like a captured secret,
sorrowful like a caged cure for cruelty,
they became silent as photographs missing sentiments,
our dialogue was at an end,
was my statement a joke, modesty, a travesty,
nobody wins something of value by themselves,
One cannot taste the terror of triumph individually,
and risk is instinct to a Victor's jubilee,
I mention these maxims as testaments,
validations for the tears of all winners
who have lost tremendously along the avenue named " Greatest " ,
there exist three inevitable enemies that attempt to impede
the achievements of all great people, ironically,
these serve as motivations not to rest,
first, the lazy luxuries of life that stymie the strength
of ambition and when absent,
induce abject illusions of incredible iniquities
which stifle Will,
secondly, undisguised, unabashed competitors
whom combat without care or compassion for others,
devoid of devotions to fairness or decorum,
thirdly, and sadly, loss of loyal friends,
they once greeted you respectfully, then eventually
cheerfully, dutifully deride you for exposing mediocrity,
please don't dismiss this lesson of lonesome liberation via success
as a proud 'pity parade', masquerading megalomania,
or as being dreamily decietful,
to be a faithful, or even phony follower,
to be intentionally indolent or dastardly discouraging is so simple,
so safe,
Freedom is often distasteful -
J.A.B.
As seeing dark people praying to Jehovah to bless
other races daily , love jumps , jumping happily ,
angels of God screaming " profound Love."
Quote by poet.
Dark and lovely in the eyes of some folks
and not others on earth
because of different choices.
If dark person fails to value himself
"herself"due to rumours
of some people and think
to bleach his " her" skin
to look very cheaper,
it is a personal choice
and no one can be blamed
when there are more consequences.
By bleaching the skin to look as some folks,
it is very risky,
risk to get cancer and other terrible diseases.
There were some dark musicians and actors
who wanted to look like other races
and transformed themselves
through plastic surgeries
and ended up dying by cancer.
Some dark people must always be happy
for who they are and forget validations
of other races.
No matter how bullied
in some part of the world,
remember that natural dark skin
is also lovely
and very beauty.
Because the way you held me last night
Faded into elastic animosity
Your hands conjoined with
This lustful grind,
Bringing me to a dilapidated heaven
But, you forgot to believe in Him.
You sucked off the beliefs of
Yesterday’s fulfilling lie
…
Now these truths you prayed for
Come undone
Watching
Waiting
For this burdened error
To tell you lies
Tell you sweet, little lies
While you caress validations’ gavel
Wishing I would collapse
Under the grasp of another scheming
Photographic smile
As words become defeated cries
Oh, my sweet little cries
Of an inflated tomorrow
Just to pleasure your flaccid hopes
For how ugly
You wished for my smiles
Oh, my sweet little smiles
To be
Your fantasied hips
Will dance with my
Empowering lips,
No longer
For this scattered tongue
Overstayed its welcome
And your vindicated landscape
Will never be the final word
In how beautiful I truly am
Inside
©D.J.E.
It probably won’t matter
Whatever I say you crush
The know-it-all refuses to listen
The conceit of a fool is so rigid
Unable to admit your arrogance
Positive advice is sound
Not attacking one’s ego
It’s acceptable to be uninformed
An open mind recognizes intent
God is the only know-it-all being
Declare your validations
Excuses all heard before
Nobody compares to your intellect
You already know whatever I say
Self legendary opinion means fool
I desire the best for you
No sense to demoralize
I’m not insulting your intelligence
There’s no call for rationalizations
Nor arguments to my interventions
Our connection I lavish
Listen, accept direction
April 2, 2018
seemingly undeniable certitude and conviction
handle hinges slats panels lock and key
maybe a cat flap for escape towards illusions
a trap door of revolving gates
sometimes we are framed by cemented beliefs
of what remains perspective and opinion
seeking for external validations
we fail to search for what is inside
stay on the threshold of immobility
minds need lubricating agents
rust prevention or sometimes a chisel
to determine what certainty is
a conundrum delusion of impermanence
which steals happiness and adventure
of open-minded investigation
there are moments however
when we can crawl out of a window
or simply break through walls
self-made incarceration is futile
and the chains shackling us
are the ones we crafted ourselves
Is it too late to ask to be unbirthed?
Born into a world of greed, selfishness and fame
brings me no honour as I am without any yet
need to have in order to live
Unnecessary pressure
Can my mother unbirth me, please?
Am I here to be a doorknob, welcome mat
or shoulders to cry on?
Shoulders, yes, the more the merrier right?
Drowning whilst having to breathe another day
caught between their misconceptions,
perceptions and perspectives
none of it brings me closer to hope
Hope for my own validations,
ambitions or identification
of my own sexuality
Like I don't have my own issues?!
Excuse me if I adult cry
Every other time
Excuse me if I have to lash out
Sometimes you need to leave me out!
Get out!
Somebody, help before I pray to be
Unbirthed alive
the clairvoyant saw
God within our heart
and our soul luminous
we were pleased
in as egoically
delusionally
for where is God not
yet these validations
quietened our doubts
steadying hearts resolve
to deepen inner silence
31-January-2023
Your validations eradicated from the goodness of a nightmare
You may wonder outside of the box
But you will soon be greeted by the face of a wall (the sign of a new box)
No one Truly thinks ouside the Box for you see...
(once you do, you'll relize your just in a new one, bigger and more space to think,
But all the same, You will never think outside the box)
Evaluate the parted ship from land to sea, adrift
Base your results on the problem of a devided sanity if Humanity
Derevolutionize the lines out of the skies
Ground Zero only to be thought of if Earth were to devide by zero
Face your fears and defile the monsters your child has born
Correct the classified and deny Santa's eye
"Afiliation of the Green" is on the radio
Just talking to let you know
Were designed to breed an Army of Destroyers
To mourn the disasters by recreation
Using up all condemnation
Satan's Hair locks Doushe our Forever to Eternity Damnations
Memories of fallen hero's
Echoes still linger thru the night
Masking lined tombstones
Only in validations of service or death
Rest in peace my fallen commrade
I 'll await for your spirits aglow
Against an azure sky
Looking over my shoulder
Doing like you used to do
Alway's protecting the sick and weak
Yet asks for nothing in return
Tribute To Armed Services
And The Many Many
Fallen Hero's
Ty For Serving
Bring The M.I.A. Home
A peacock to some,
but to others a confident and close friend.
Confidence, humorous,
displays feathers,
selects the perfect mate.
Unbeknownst is he of the
defects
within his selection, too much time
lusting the outside,
never fully knowing the inside.
Secure in his vibrant colors,
overconfident that his mate would never stray.
Too concerned with the outward appearance
of those within their circle.
Neglected is she who grooms the offspring and tends the nest.
Healthier to leave to the injuries she's received,
yet flaws hold her bonded.
Too late you come with the validations
which she required.
Divulged is the straying
with those of lesser colors.
Injurious is it to your
prideful mantle.
Both are now imperfect,
insecure in being,
and require a pal full of time.
Slowly, slowly,
Like melting snow,
Our humanity,
Drips away,
Fingers tapping,
Screens flashing,
Lives spent,
Chasing Paper castles,
And hollow hearts,
And for our Attention,
We claim our prize;
Gifts of Short lived
Dopamine,
Pieces of silver,
Exchanged,
For our precious mind.
This digital pilgrimage,
To an empty space,
Where no hands,
Hold warm flesh and blood,
Or wide eyes,
Connect in true embrace,
Lost Years,
Where only the fleeting matters ,
Our Truths long forgotten,
Filed away,
Buried for some other Day.
Slowly, slowly,
We turn away,
And give all to this digital Hand,
That takes and takes,
Never full,
Each time,
Wanting more ,
This hand that would guide
and lead us,
Take us to a promised Land,
Across fields and streets
Claimed by frozen statues,
With eyes looking down,
Eyes that long ago,
Lost their loving shine.
And as we try to see again,
What once lay beyond,
These Corporate,
Plastic dreams,
These theme parks,
Of empty validations,
Just for a moment.,
We glimpse,
What we have become,
And we Long,
with all our heart,
Just to be born again.
Born again;
To blue summer skies,
To star light,
That Comes to greet us,
To give us hope,
From the black velvet cloak,
Of night,
Born again,
To the smell of fresh earth,
Rising after Summer rains,
To the sound,
Of bird song,
That feels hazy summer air.
To warm Hands,
That would squeeze us tightly,
and let us know we are still
Real.
John Roberts
Do I know who I am? Who am I?
In the space in this place at the
Clearing? What am I am some of
Us after THEY decided everything
In their favor! NEW WORLD ORDER!
NOW we survive for the New Order
Of WORLDS!? What should we do?
Contemplate and BE bemused while
We stay amused and DISASTERIOUSLY
Confused? Buuut NOW the GAME
has CHANGED! 2 + 2 equals NOT
ANY MORE FOUR. In this time the
Two's equal 666 yeah people at the
Supermarkets and grocery stores have to learn
New CHORES! The sixes have to BE
On everybody's wish list.
Trix TICKS TRICKS! You see?
That IS the score! What's more?
The SUM of the ANSWER! four
The poor RACES aaha The RACES
are in their places the racist are in
Their spaces. A story? Trace this! It's
Baseless! These countries are
Desolate destroyed diseased! We
Here A NATION WITHIN A NATION!
But IAM BLACK PANTHER! HERE
AND STRONG!
Ha thus, Validations All require validness
Of Val. I breeched my entrance into
This world I'm
Valuable. In plain INGLISH.
I WAS SENT FOR THIS!!!
I AM MALIK aha please! I was born
With UNBENDT KNEES! AND
NEWBORN TEETH! I say HERE TODAY
Just LOOK LIKE LIFE! LIFT LOVE
LOVElove love! Mon amour mon amour.
Yeah all you Niggas and Bi#**!!!
You ARE NOT THAT! YOU ARE MORE!
YOU ARE BETTER! No need to bend your knees
We are all SUPREME!!! Brothers
Sisters you ARE TO ME Ancient
EGYPTIAN SEED NINE HUNDRED
NINETY NINE DEGREES!
Yeaaah! Hahaha! WE BE THESE!!!
STANDING UNBENT KNEES!
I AM BLACK PANTHER! HUFF UP!
Black PEOPLE!!!
BLACK JET BLACKEST ANSWERERRR!
VBR BLACK PANTHERRRR
BLACK PEOPLE!
In the silent kingdom of lost seasons, where shadows measure the silence,
A day will dawn when you let the burdens of confession fall like leaves,
An old blanket of crushed convictions, your unwavering testimony grows weary.
You will tire with outstretched hands, carrying the proof of your existence,
You will tire of squinting your eyes towards approval-seeking skies, where clouds care not for aspirations,
You will tire of pouring from your tea, the elixir of validations, into foreign cups,
You will tire, a monk in the temple of understanding, longing for an echo that will not come.
And then, under a moon round as a reconciled zero, you will freeze with revelation,
You need not sell the price of your self, script your breath,
Your presence – a poem in itself, does not require recitation to exist.
You will let go of burdens, opinions, and unsigned words,
You will let winds whistle, cleansing the imagined realities of dust,
You will do your work, immersed in the deaf sound of your own beating heart.
You will exist, you will live, you will be on your crucible path of making a difference,
A play performed behind closed doors, for those with open eyes to see,
A sculpture in the infinity of time, where each serrated hammer leaves a star,
Only for eyes that can open the abysses and see the light from the depths.
And when this day comes, emperor over inner realms,
You will leave behind an untraceable trail of steps, felt but unseen, an impact born from silence,
It will no longer be hard, it will no longer be a struggle, just a free dance at the gates of dawn,
Where each breath is an act of art and each moment – a precious stone.
And then... then you will float, you will float like the sound of a bell on seas of mist,
And you will carve your own tone, and write your own music,
And you will row your boat in white, on the waters of a silver lake,
To shores of hearts that understand the rhythm of your steps, and hold value in tomorrow.
AH ! Tis the fractal holonomic
the blue print of source definition
the curling tongs of galaxies
the footprints of our DNA
this love unburdened
seeks naught but love as its companion
And so should it be
that love confirm
the validations of unity
Yay, as I walk through the shadow and valley
of love
be standing still upon its mountainous peak
For love is how it is meant to be
and by such grace uplifted to
a harmony reflected in her eyes
It is the body of love
the soul of love
to stand beside a precipice
and dare the gods to deny us
AH ! My love, my love
should I break apart
and lay bare all that I am
would be my greatest triumph