Condescend Poems | Examples

civilian

civilian
thoughts and washed plates possibly?
that you own my country or an answer
of assembly and ranks i am unfile-able
above too cream, too polished for beams

an irish american from ireland
and i was saying
this is how we created allow you to learn
i a loud and happy
by bellows and bass
the inordinate coordinate reflex
of my speech is war confronted you, when
yes i am a military measure writer
that describes the universe you inhabit
i am under no obligation to the allegiance you die from
nor is description legal from me to you to use
only as a legitimate means not to condescend
how much power i wield
my influence over earth's fertile blanding
while time came about you all failed us.
we sought to instruct yet the civil war is you
i am general assembly, good day
plagiarism is attempting to earmark theft of my treasury notes

The Wrong Landlord

On one’s ability, nothing wrong to confide
needless gratification, glory hunting is wide
chances of victory from a one-man army divide.

Resilience that is bloated will be swallowed by the tide
seeking attention is their life, on a horse it rides
to condescend and to look down also riding side by side.

High-level difficulty to follow a guide
adopting modesty and quiet, the desire had lied
even in the smallest hole, self-importance won’t hide.

Everything seems beneath, so nothing to abide
the house caught a self-inflicting fire, and its residents died
the same report is of the properties whose landlords are pride.

Atrocious!

An eye for an eye and the whole world goes blind
They become thy home, a home that thou can't even find 
Seems like seamless love, that doesn't involve mind
Staring without eyes, faceless yet wild

A little too longer to remain what's best to pretend
A little too close to what's going to happen in the end
A little too late to comprehend
A little too late to condescend

Worse the part when it comes to render 
Worst it becomes, when dived into, 
transcribing the vocabulary not meant to be rendered
Atrocious it is, as surrendered

Bled on paper as thou bled in time
Scarce is translucence 
Abundant became reticence
Those words, coy! result of which was no rhyme

snakes and ladders

well if one won’t stoop to fight the devil ~ he will always condescend 

he’s further up the ladder ~ but down a manhole so let’s not pretend 

and how do I know such things ~ on any level he’s a charming friend 

one who makes empty promises ~ only the mesmerised comprehend 


inspired by Lin Lane’s (devilish ways) Monoku 
Hms

By
David Kavanagh

Kensington

Years of silence I can't recall 
Tears I pant on the scrawled wall
Clothes worn in an open cell
Souls torn, drowning in smitten well

Costumes worn by zombies
Moving as mannequins, not gnomes
Legumes not grown as beans or chickpeas
Roving pass skull watchers of spumes

My heart beating slow, recurring
My voice bleating low, murmuring...

Your soothing eyes I can't forget
Looking into my eyes of regret
Your hands you stretch I can't reach
To cleanse my body and bleach

Creeds of lore I can comprehend, not detest
Breeds and condescend at my weakest 
Your soft hair I wanted to smell and comb
Your touch I can sense, I goad that aplomb

I will always remember you as always
On this avenue you watch over me sideways
Each day I walk barefooted without wellington
Your footprints you leave on Kensington...

A Forms and Words - Absence

Absence as I hear them calling
Broken as I feel them falling
Cardiac as it's stalling
Darkness has me crawling
Endeavoring to its installing
Fevered by enthralling
Giving into it appalling
Heartfelt gifts sprawling
Individual love is worth mauling
Jointly our worth is stalling
Kissing my lips, befalling
Loving her, a load I'm hauling
Missing us forever recalling
No joy in finding the end
Openness only serves to offend
Patience is just pretend
Quietly wanting more than a friend
Reliving does not allow us to transcend
Seeking solutions, don't bend
Time there's none left to extend
Unbelievably easy to condescend
Viciousness has no way to amend
Wanting left no desire to attend
Xenomorphic this relationships bookend
You had every chance girlfriend
Zero desire is left to be penned

A Forms And Words Challenge Poetry Contest
20th February 2023
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet

Manipulation

Draw the curtains
Dim the light
Get settled down
For this long winter night
Almost dozing In my chair
A sleeping cat on my knee
Feeling warm and content
A pleasant place to be.
A fire in the grate
A red hot ember bed
Before which my lady sits
Toasting crusty bread

An old fashioned fork
Holds the speared slices down
Which the embers very quickly
Turn a shade of golden brown
A buttered toast and coffee supper
The toast spread with marmalade 
One of those special snacks
Hot, tasty,simple, homemade. 
The cat stretches and grumbles
As I reach for my treats
Not the sort of thing any
Self respecting  cat eats.

With a disdainful air
She leaps to,the floor
Haughtily strides away
Knee not needed anymore
When I’ve grovelled sufficiently
I’ll in time be forgiven and then
I’m sure she’ll condescend
To occupy my knee again
Its a scene repeated nightly
And I’m getting used to that
It’s hell being appointed human
To the disdainful resident cat.

A Personal Note

Never act like you know it all, or,
Come on too strong or condescend,
For you’ll be known as a perfect boor
Even if, in your presence, we pretend
Yes, avoid that reputation, my friend.


written March 1, 2022
submitted to "Bite Size Poem No. 48" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Line Gauthier

Give, Or Give Up When Ye Go

Compelled, you condescend to give, 
With buts, ifs, ooh and oh you give, 
God! Grudge-giving’s no way to give.

You aim to get more than you give, 
Give, on weighing what you’d receive, 
Yet, for past sins there’s no reprieve.

Giving, when you give, has no goal
Save helping a wretched poor soul
In dire need a good enough dole.

Charity is a goal-less game, 
But if yours be for name and fame,
It’s just trade for gain if you give.

And it has a profit motive—
Cheap coppers, not silver thru sieve, 
It’s charity with knots of weave.

Yet, time when comes, one unknown eve, 
All left behind bare hands you leave,
And pardon there’s nor a reprieve, 

O there’s no alt, give up you must, 
And all you’ve had is good as dust,
Good deeds are all you can retrieve.

____________________________________
Triplet |04.12.2021| giving, charity

The Voices Oh the Voices

Understand, they tell you lies
Make haste when you hear their cries 
Don’t take them to bed
Let them go
They do not know
Nor do they care if you are dead
Nor do they care if you are well 
These voices in your head
Sinful, vicious lies they tell
Always keep you in a spell
They are the jackal of hell.

Make up your mind
Now is the time
Show a strength to them instead 
Do not take them to your bed 
They will spread their dread 
These voices in your head.

There is goodness in your heart 
The voices tear you apart 
Come out of the dark
Make a new start
Do not struggle lest them outsmart.

To the world you pretend
With a wonderful show
No one would know
These voices lay low
Internal games and condescend 
And will ascend if you try to defend.

Let go their foul play
Thinking the same thoughts everyday 
No longer delay
Take courage I pray
And feel how you grow
Life will echo a brilliance of glow.

I have them as well
Their yells and their spells
Though they are meagre and stray 
I live without this worry and doubt 
And so I say
You too can live this wonderful way

Royal Tea

Bowser and Mittens, Pooh, Fluffy and I
sat with the Queen for her afternoon tea.
Minding our manners, all silent and shy -
each of us awestruck by Her Majesty.

We all were rescues, she loved us in spite,
though we were commoners, she took us in;
loved us and fed us each morning and night,
asked how our day was and where we had been.

Sought our advice on all matters of state -
whether she ought to play hopscotch or jacks,
make paper dolls, or perhaps roller skate -
always she'd come back to us to relax. 

She was the Queen, but did not condescend,
took time to play with us under her tree.
Though it's been years now that she's been our friend,
we all remember our first "Royal Tea"


Written 3 Nov 2021

The Book of Ezra - Il Miglior Fabbro

Dear Mr. Pound, 
Your holiday in Italy
Has besmirched your legacy.
Your Cantos, they plead, 
But don’t exonerate,
Not as far as I can see.

Dear Mr. Pound, 
Did praise from Hemingway 
Whet your narcissistic thirst?
As an ex-pat abroad, 
Did you assimilate 
What enlightened nations curse?

Dear Mr. Pound, 
You made Il Duce smile.
There’s evidence that proves it.
Was your Republic of Utopia 
Bi-polar by design?
Or was it simply hubris?

Dear Mr. Pound, 
You strain my intellect
With your imagery of life,
And turn my conscience 
Hard on itself
With a keen, dissecting knife.

Dear Mr. Pound, 
Your lyrics sing to me,
But your politics offend.
You peddled fascist ideology.
If you want my true opinion,
I refuse to condescend.

Truths

When we're young, if we were lucky, we learn truths that, in life, will help to see us through…through the good times…through the bad times…because we know these truths…are true.

Truth about how to treat another person…any person…always with kindness…never condescend…truth about how to love ourself…and others…and what it means to be a friend.

Truth about how our planet is important…from her sky…to her trees…to her tides…not only for our survival…but for the beauty she provides.

Many of these truths we learn early…soon after showing up…we’re taught them by our parents…it’s all a part of growing up.

Sometimes, however, as we grow older if we’re not careful our intentions and our actions become misconstrued and misbegotten…when those truths we learned when we were children…are buried or forgotten.

My hope is if that happens…if we ever lose our way…
we find the path back to those old lessons…those old truths of yesterday

For I can think of nothing sadder…once our youth has finally sprung…
than to grow old chasing truths…we once learned when we were young.

Judah's Best and the King

His image built; the mighty king
began to sing 
“All heads must turn
bow down or burn.”

The faith of Judah’s best declared
"We will be spared.
We will not bend
nor condescend.”

Our God can save; but should He not
”We’ve cast our lot.
This is our vow;
we will not bow.”

July 18, 2021

Virtuous Trait of Morality

I place a great deal of importance on morality
and never will I perceive it as a mere triviality
It is a fine quality I seek when choosing a friend
A virtuous trait, one should never condescend

Those relishing debauchery, I consider unsavory
Surrendering their honor will surely lead to slavery
A bondage that breaks the ethical code of respect
Their sense of morality is in a state of gross neglect


January 4th, 2021
Mark Koplin's Morality Contest

• Short Condescend Poems
• Famous Condescend Poems
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• Long Condescend Poems
• Condescend Quotes