Short Deprecating Poems

canadian correct ~ rolling our eyes and dotting our arghs




*some self-deprecating fun...

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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!"...

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those dead-ends are just around the corner
       where deep calls to deep,
that infinite-in just beyond where we sleep,
in that dream we don't have any names,
no games, no blames, neither waxes nor wanes,
no hell of flames, no self-deprecating shames,
a place where we'll all happily greet,
in a tunnel vision where all dead-ends meet...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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....

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Few who were as funny as you came after.
Wherever you went, the folks emitted laughter.
For a professional entertainer, you had a gift.
Your jokes gave us an emotional lift.
You described your life with “Fang” as self-deprecating.
Such humor was funny and stimulating.
When we saw you on television and the stage,
your style and delivery were all the rage.
We will all miss you as you have gone away.
You were a lady and a scholar in your day.

RIP Phyllis Diller
(1917-2012)
...

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