They may smile at you
Yet they don’t really mean it
They may smile at you
Yet their hearts are angry
They may show you the smile
Yet there souls are grieved
The smiling faces.
Don’t trust any smiling face
Show them your smile
But don’t smile ear to ear
You may be smiling back
Yet they want to see whether you brushed
You may smile at them
Yet they want to see the gaps in your teeth.
Don’t trust a smiling face
It may smile during day
And it harasses you in the night
It may smile for you during happiness
And tortures you during anger.
The smiling faces are bad.
Trust no smiling face.
They may smile at you
Yet they don’t really mean it
They may smile at you
Yet their hearts are angry
They may show you the smile
Yet there souls are grieved
The smiling faces.
Don’t trust any smiling face
Show them your smile
But don’t smile ear to ear
You may be smiling back
Yet they want to see whether you brushed
You may smile at them
Yet they want to see the gaps in your teeth.
Don’t trust a smiling face
It may smile during day
And it harasses you in the night
It may smile for you during happiness
And tortures you during anger.
The smiling faces are bad.
Trust no smiling face.
Insipid be the bounty, lain before the masses.
Languishing are those the ravenous harasses.
Mortals just morsels to a hunger never sated.
Fear laden blood keeps who feeds intoxicated.
The crazed stare unphased, their beckoning insidious.
They whom lay slayed, just meat for the carnivorous.
Of men or of babe be plated and devoured.
To this they're enslaved by ritual empowered.
Disposed as they go the corpses they eviscerate.
Now over, the glow danced by as they incinerate.
Cyberstalker
who sexually harasses
said thank you
for writing
all this poetry to them(they read it)
and thank you for noticing them.
I noticed
that not one female or male
on this campus
has hair
that would compare
to my ASTOUNDING,
BLONDE,
THICK REALLY CURLY HAIR-
IF IT WERE NOT CUT AT NIGHT-
and that not one
female or male on this campus
is as tall as me.
I am 5.9.5 inches tall
(EVERY recorded measurement of my height
for the past several years has been 176.5cm).
My eyebrows-
blonde, with a little gold-
GODLIKE.
Only sack scratcher
one who harasses cossacks
It sucks and tiresome..
Every man is an island
Eros harasses him alone
It is the hot ice-cream
Never shared with other men
IMPOSITION OF PAIN
you come calling
banging on my bangs
at the midnight hour
cupping my countenance
roughly in your hands
scraping more suffering
haranguing harder and harder
my head harasses the pillow
with an eternal tick tock
you shower me with increasing pressure
taunt me with moments of despair
kick it up a notch
chime in my rhyme
i grimace at your gangrenous grin
orange hues open my eyes
sky’s skewed
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
Envious hearts would never be lovers of truth and justice but devotees to falsehood and injustice!*
(c) Demetrios Trifiatis
04 June 2016
* Today I received a soup mail from someone who never visits me, accusing me of supporting someone who harasses ladies and gentlemen alike!
I would never commit injustice against anyone! I only comment on the poem written ignoring why the poem is written.
Sometimes poems are fictitious. It is impossible to know what is in the mind of the writer since there are no names of the supposed victim! I DECLARE THAT NEVER SUPPORTED OR WILL I SUPPORT ANY INJUSTICE and would like to let this person know that I am a free man and an honest one! It is better for the author of that soup mail not to try to turn one person against the other. Here we are not to divide people but to unite them! At least I AM DOING IT IN PRACTICE.
God bless him who sent me the message and may he sees the light and stop creating groups to fight one against the other so as for him to reign! I also ask all our soupers to work in harmony for we suppose to be poets inspired by God and since GOD IS LOVE let us LOVE ONE ANOTHER!
Often we talk of our
rich culture
And ask the
generations of
future
To follow it with
heart and soul
And to be proud of
its trends all
But some things make
me confused
For these trends are
often abused
What are the things
to be proud of
The things to be
preached loud of
Should I follow the
culture that teaches
To oppose the other
religious preaches
To oppose the
languages of others
To oppose the
sentiments of all
brothers
Should I feel proud
of the culture
That treats the
women like a minor
That harasses her
in a brutal way
That is ready all
the time to slay
That highlights the
caste discrimination
That never cares for
the respect of
nation
That feels joy in
smashing the weak
And deceiving others
to reach the peak
If all these are
good things of a
culture
They will not create
a human but a
vulture
To be uncultured I
would prefer
Before following
such a culture
A sour scene harasses me
I bite down on bitter words
Rotten souls parading
Wrongfully in heinous herds
Poison pours into streams
The stench violates the air
Choking's heard; muffled screams
The dictators call it fair
Refugees escape some lips
Few stand in brave breaths
Millions safe-kept secrets
More with nothing left
I witness wretched injustices
And carefully clench tight my teeth
My tongue won't make people listen
My hands shall take the lead
This winter's cough that heckles me
Harasses my health, and saps my confidence
That I can survive the misery
Of microbe wars and pestilence
Raging at my blindness and innocence
For I have never met any face to face
Never wronged them
Nor see to intrude into their space
But they drowning me with phlegm
Make this invasion personal
Refusing to live with me as marginals
I would surrender
And go to sleep, go to sleep
Filled with the doctor's narcotic and helplessness
Coded in his bottles and boxes of medication
I would surrender
But I cannot yield, life is only expectation
And through the hacking night
My throat a living hell hold back my songs
Of tenderness and delight
For something in me is never sweet
When I come out to fight
This is my body, mine alone
My temple, and my universe
It shall not be my hearse
It shall not be my hearse
Are you the one I can run to when the world turns against me?
Are you the one I can depend on when I’m at my weakest moment?
You’re the one I lean on when I can’t stand no more
I look at you to take my mind away from the chaos
When the paparazzi harasses me about last week’s victory
Baby I’m a man who wants the simple things in life
So I ask myself are the one for me?
I don’t need special attention when I received it from sports
I don’t need caterers especially when I eat very well
I tell you to be there and stay here with me and never stress
Because I can enjoy this with you and you holding me down
From jump I want you to acknowledge the love I’m giving
To be my number one isn't easy or hard
Be you and you will find us together more and more
But can I call you to answer my phone call?
Can I text you and know you will text back?
Can I eat dinner with you without ruining the moment?
Questions that need to be answered in sometime timely fashioned
So are you the one for me?
Am I the fool for not killing this fly
That persistently harasses me now?
Is my respect for life absurd, awry?
Should my philosophy be disavowed?
Isn’t all life a very sacred thing?
You say, yes, but a fly! A billion die
Each day! Ah! But most die on the wing.
My belief is ‘live and let live’, and why?
Nothing is insignificant to me.
Suppose for a moment you are that fly
And programmed to pester me endlessly?
Must I kill you in a blink of an eye?
Until Man respects life of every kind
Our future holds no hope for humankind.
Why is it that we have so many names for cops?
Policeman. Pig. Law Enforcement Officer?
Now that ones a real laugh.
Who is it? Why is it? How is it?
These quasi Nazi Neanderthal’s get to break
any law they please? Throwing us in jail...
What are we doing?
What warped, wasp, principle
dictates to us, the populous.
What angst allows us to submit?
Intellect, the nemesis of all,
neither sex, race, creed nor national origin determine it?
Yet, too much of it makes ones suitability
for law enforcement dubious.
Sometimes I wonder...
Wouldn’t it be more economically viable
amidst this capitalistic crap
for the small towns and cities alike
to purchase donut franchises
and save citizen's cents for the library?
Ah, YES!
After all, then the politicans and the FORCE
Can harasses drop out drop- ins
And dip donuts in a more cost-effective manner.
Contest: Behind Bars Blue
Emotion pulses through me.
So quickly changing and morphing into different colors.
Red for the anger,
Drawing warm venom through my veins,
Beating in my skull,
Choking my breath and throat and knotting my stomach.
And, like a lightning strike,
It's gone.
Black replaces the red
As depression weaves throughout my mind.
It harasses my eyes, filling them with wet tears,
And it sickens my stomach
And numbs inspiration so that writing is smothered.
My figure shakes weakly
As my energy is wasted and drained;
I can feel
Hear
Taste
My heart beating.
Rising in my throat.
My breathing slows.
Gone is depression.
The white color.
Where I paint all my thoughts.
Every sadness
Anger
Happiness
Is painted on the white.
Pink, my joy, is barely present now.
Colored over with black and red,
My happiness...
Is losing.
Like a smile on my face,
Happiness is gone.
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