Deprecating Poems | Examples

jimmy Campbell

He deserves a plaque
He so wanted a music school
but could not prevail
He was broken
by the dark side of the hill
He was at times self deprecating
forecasting his lack of success
always putting others first
because he thought it was his duty
He wrote an epitaph to Elisa Cope
and thanked Dear Marge for first love
One thing is clear
talent isn't always rewarded

Unspoken Longing

My mind is speaking 
The feeling of being alone is deep
Kind of rejected and disturbed 
Mental health is deprecating 
Looking lost when things are in your head

Feeling so emotionless and empty
Jobless me! I seek for a Job
The atmosphere becomes cloudy  and smoky 
Disappointed written over my face 

For saying a truth not meant to be told
Our current language is silence
Even when we have a lot to tell
Yet it is the only language we feel we understand 

Feeling insecure and round an environment 
Still the feeling comes from a right angle
Not sure if reciprocated 
Trying to get back to my comfort zone 

My brain sends a freaky signal to my body
A million nerve, all doing the same work
At the same tune sends the same impulse 
At this point am emotionally numb
Making this Feel like a mistake

Guess Who

An Ohioan, born with the last name Driver,
she was an actor, but an author she was too.
She first appeared in the film “Splendor in the Grass.”
TV shows she would also often do.

However, she is best known for comedy.
Self-deprecating her comedy could be.
Crazy were her clothes, her hair, and her laugh.
She was a fan of plastic surgery!

She lived a good, long time – to ninety-five.
Six kids had she; two times she was a wife.
But it was her final live-in partner that
she claimed was the great love of her whole life.

My Mental Health

My mental health is complicated
Now euphoric, next sedated
Nightmares daily duplicated
All my friends are alienated 
Happy times? They're confiscated
Mental health is complicated 

My mental health is temperamental
One day strong, the next I tremble 
Demon thoughts in turn assemble
Scars you see? Not accidental!
Happy/sad so incidental
Mental health is temperamental 

My mental health is so unstable
Able battles with Unable
Joy is nothing but a fable
Traumas each a different label
Hide then dance up on the table
Mental health is so unstable 

My mental health is oscillating
Praising now, then deprecating
Morbid days turn scintillating
Love now, hate now: aggravating
Soothing words are non-placating
Mental health is oscillating 

My mental health is so confusing
Flattering and then accusing
Comforting when not abusing
All my sanity consuming
"End it now" my life pursuing
Mental health is so confusing

Narratives

NARRATIVES
in a
  prospective pastiche
this a lingering
   concern
of
deprecating humour
an identifiable
yet
perverse eccentricity
in
   a comic strategy


THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived

Unseat By Tweet

The economy was booming, best for years
As for unemployment then: he had it beat
Feel-good factor lifted spirits dried our tears
Voted ‘gainst him cos I didn’t like his tweets

Yes he made the border strong secured the nation
Shut out drug mules with the Covid and wet feet
Slowed persistent fundamental transformation
Yet I still reject him cos he does mean tweets

When ISIS cut a swathe across Levant
He made destruction of their Caliphate complete
And silenced their polemics and their rant
But I disapproved cos I don’t like his tweets

Brought the vaccines to production at warp speed 
Others gave thumbs down to aught laid at his feet
Now they seek enforcement even without need
And to him I give the elbow - don’t like tweets

Should he come again, restore the nation’s pride
After years of deprecating self defeat
Would I then come to accept what I denied?
Well perhaps - if he would only stop his tweets!

Sleep Thief

Once again, sleep evades me
Weary and worried, I lie awake
Struggling to quiet my anxious mind
The relentless 'why's' and 'what if's'
And the self-deprecating thoughts stealing my slumber

A complicated dilemma and a tough choice
An outcome and a consequence
Does my head know best?
Why does my heart feel otherwise?
Not sure the odds are in my favour

I continue to toss and turn
Feeling uncertain and ill-prepared
Exhausted eyes stare blankly at the ceiling above
Time is about to run out 
Both on my deadline 
And my night's sleep

I Laugh At Your Optimism

You hear roses and violins
I hear gunshot, screams, open fire
I am heading toward trouble
But I cannot turn my feelings into flowers

The sun, the sky and the moon are for others.
They have nothing to do with me.
I am a wanderer with a self-deprecating attitude
Gunshot residue lives inside my mind

You can prance through the forest of pretty things
Flicking flower blossoms singing “he loves me.”
I watch you go, laughing at your optimism.
Can I flick the bullets out of my brain? Hardly!

I Could Not Keep Up

Attempting to revive them 
I felt my nostrils fill 
With the bloodiness of their deaths

Determined I kept digging
My fingernails full of stench 
of her hopelessness and despondency

You are in there! I told her.
I remember you.
But the problem is, she didn’t.

No matter how much muck and grime
I extracted from her beliefs,
I could not keep up.

She was a maestro at 
generating self-deprecating 
beliefs that kept her dendrite highway full of self-loathing

Lord Please Help Our President

Lord Please Help Our President
By Franklin Price
10/03/2020

Lord please help our President
Return from COVID virus
So he may keep on fighting
Those conditions that still mire us

Return again to campaign
To connect with his supporters
Recovering completely from
This virus in our borders
AMEN

Post Prayer
As soon as he's recovered
Let the democrats return
To their deprecating language
For which I'm sure they yearn

It's nice they sent well wishes
For his illness in the race
When he is on the trail again
They can return to their first face

Self-Deprecating Joke and Humor

Read this in conjunction with my previous poem, when I wanted to be white

The Amazing Coconut. Why is it amazing?
It is like the people of India - Indians:
"Brown outside, white inside!"

Canucku

canadian correct ~ rolling our eyes and dotting our arghs




*some self-deprecating fun

Stark Reality

Am I that hard to love?
To be treated with some delicacy? Dignity?  Joy?  Celebrated instead of tolerated? Honored instead of scorned?
Can you hear me screaming, pleading, begging behind my plastic smile? 
Words are like daggers...
I thought my shield was Impervious to your slurs and half-joking barbs, that rip at my inequities, as you sit in haughty judgment of me. 
This isn't love; Silent torture I endure as my silent screams are covered by self deprecating laughter. 
Pride is frowned on, however narcissism and egoism are celebrated. 
In an upside down world this is normal...
I think you got it backwards,
Love makes you feel wanted, needed, dare I say...happy, 
not aching, burned, lost, scared, scarred or hurt, that's not love that's abuse of a form most base...
So I strike out in the only way I know how, with my pen...
Half concealed daggers of my own, blindly hoping to hit a mark and make you see...
You say my words are beautiful, but I don't think you realize they are loaded daggers filled with poison that you carelessly cast off to me.

Perfection

It is awaiting,
the prominent perfection I desire,
fingertips tracing insecurities,
media fuelling the fire.


The ideal takes reality,
burrows and distorts the view,
corrupting and twisting,
self deprecating smiles construe.


Along came a broken soul,
who desired the same perfection,
to stare at the ghost in the mirror,
and adore her own reflection.


As one we shall push,
rumbling and pain worth it all,
prevention can’t beat the cure,
or prepare to watch us fall.

Humbling

I love you in poverty of 
words;
when you are not seeking
anything.

A dusky strength, self-
deprecating, 
holding forth the virtues of 
self-denial.

What was the awareness of 
a blind ?
Of shadows of migrating birds 
in moonlight ?

Hold my extended arm. May 
be you can fall, 
looking without eyes in the depth 
of the sea.


Satish Verma

• Short Deprecating Poems
• Famous Deprecating Poems
• Best Deprecating Poems
• Read Deprecating Poems
• Long Deprecating Poems
• Deprecating Quotes