Small Minded Poems

I'm Tired

I’m tired of sacrificing my happiness
I’m tired of people not seeing me
I’m tired of heartless people
I’m tired of family not hearing me
I speak my words with everything in me
But no one takes it seriously
The constant silent battles that I face
I’m tired of the saying be seen and not heard
I’m tired of small minded people
I’m tired of paying for other people’s mistakes
I’m tired of people trying to hold me back

Sonnet 11 Big Words for a Small-minded Fool

The vote was between a sage and a fairy!
One of the sass and the other is made of brass!
Well, the people spoke up and used their vote like a kid at the dairy!
The people voted for the red one who acts like an ass!

A voice that never stops to think of its effect on the world!
An idiot that enjoys using their words like their life in Rifle!
The spirited one would have been a better person for the world!
Bush would not be a person to cause a trifle!

News flash to the one in red that acts like an ass!
People voted for you due to your looks!
Your smile and words are a lie as they voice everything in sass!
It was not for your lack of knowledge of books!

The district chair only wants you for one occasion, a sight!
Little does he realize that you, as a state representative, are a massive blight!

farewell

Farewell 

I'm tired of Portugal
this small country, not bigger
than a hamlet in Spain
their worldview is what 
is seen from an Olive cops 
small-minded 
and deceitful, bewildering  
where the Arabic influence
lingers 
decapitated by Christianity 
I have family in Spain
who read Cervantes 
I don't know why
it could be they are working-class
they value me as an elder
in their clan
I even have a brother 
I have never met
he lives in Chicago 
the whisper is he is a gangster
The Portuguese is based on 
avoiding the truth
at all cost
No matter how long you
live in this fantasy land
they will treat 
a foreigner with hidden contempt
Yes, it is time to leave
this country of sheepherders
and lawyers
where the people still hanker
for the days
of dictatorship

Leggy Winds Disrupt Weather Girls

Longshanks drainpipe and whistle through the day.
pterodactyls got it easy in this wide-open sky,
they glide too far up to be real anymore.

The beady-eyed slinkers that wriggle under our plodding boots,
they also avoid the earthshaking heaviness of light sleepers.

Beyond the curtains, a plastic pelican
has got its bill and belly stuck on a satellite dish,
now we can only receive small-minded thoughts in a soup bowl.

Strong winds are disrupting sleep patterns,
static pictures can only take baby steps or crawly shuffles.

Leggy winds go out to play in front of green screens,
illusions, made to promote the good-looking and perky.

To the Past Rats

"I've always been told I'm the lunatic! As I've never bowed down, as I don't please the rats around me ever, even many many years ago! Never made friends with fools, even from their trouble, why try when they don't even know, I'm to proud of myself to give a flipping  from all those shallow minds, I'm letting myself feel right and will never give a sweet  to the the small minded morons through this so called city..." -Ds-

Pat Robertson Don't Try It

Don't try to make me just like you
I must cherish my free speech and thought
If I just clung on to your point of view
I’d relinquish a right which cannot be bought

LGBTQ people are dancing, spitting on, and defiling your grave
Well because ding dong, yet another witch is dead
Christian Broadcasting, you founded to minister and save
Condemned feminists as devils whom we should dread

We speak of religious right pundit Pat Robertson
Avowing 9/11 attacks as divinely ordained
The Queen is dead, but perhaps not gone   
Because his small minded thoughts have remained

Nothing says Pride like the death of your proto-Hillsong
They won’t miss that homophobia which you did awake
So here’s to you Mr. Robertson
And your accusing gay men of a spiky HIV handshake

Through Bigoted Eyes

As imperfect humans, we judge perceived on what our eyes see
It's a mistake many of us make, and not based on a heart's purity.
A trait that shows we are prejudiced and biased against others
of different races and religious beliefs, of our sisters and brothers.

We were all created in the image and likeness of our Father, God.
To realize a person's value, we must look deeper than their facade,
but we label people by appearance without personal interaction.
Iniquitous of our subconscious to let outward looks be an attraction.

Were that all eyes were blind to a beautiful face or a muscular form
we would treat each other with a demeanor more pleasant and warm.
Too often we don't bother trying to learn what's in a person's heart
before our minds tell us, "I'm going to tear this unworthy one apart."

Shouldn't we look past a person's age, or unappealing physical features?
To hold that against them makes us small-minded, bigoted creatures.
We're guilty of doing a disservice to good people if we fail to perceive
what is undetectable to our eyes. First impressions often tend to deceive.


January 8, 2023
The Way We Look Contest
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker

Don'T Worry Everything Is Out of Our Control

Nobody gave us super powers
though we can hope to grow invisible wings,
small stubby wings
that we can use to hop from here to there.

I will say this just the once,
there is absolutely nothing anyone can do
about the climate.
The tides will come in and out
and all we can do is watch.

The world is not chaotic
it has its own regulatory systems,
it needs no help
from we small-minded creatures.

If the Earth were a ship
among a starry ocean - and it is,
we would be the rats in its hold;
not that we are not potentially Gods
but not just yet.

Knowing there is nothing we can do,
maybe we should stop thinking we can change
the natural order of things,

we should all cease trying
and grow grapes to make wine
for those rainy days and such.

The Puppet Wife

She was an independent woman with a genius of a mind.
But she met a sociopath who was controlling and in no way kind.
We all thought she would ignore him, shoving her brilliance away.
But he got his clutches into her, and she is now his puppet today.
No amount of coaxing or reminding can bring her back to life.
Depressed, she has been isolated by him and is now his wife.
A story told often in towns big and small, about small-minded men.
Who must control someone and make the very worst friend.

Pettiness

Pettiness,
It comes from the French (petite)
Petite means small
Anything compact and neat,
Can be classed as slight,
Small of no significance,
Small-minded people might
Be blind-sighted by their magnificence,
And fail to comprehend
Or defend the importance,
Of the word petite,
And feel a need to compete
To prove a point that immense
It makes more sense,
To think and act big.

Pettiness
Has no place in society,
It breeds impropriety.
It makes people gruff,
So let us all blow a big puff
To rid ourselves of,
The unnecessary small stuff!

Linen and Lace

She lived to be the oldest of a staid, 
unremarkable bourgeois family.
Lavender and off-white lace,
complemented her black ruffled attire.
She played the Granddame with much aplomb,
the matriarch of her passionless clan.

Occasionally her offspring
and her offspring’s offspring came to her for money,
a few with questions, appeals, unctuous compliments
She offered only sneers, curled and haughty lips.

In her days there were giants on earth,
they did not reach just for the middle shelves.
Their thoughts were painted hot-air balloons,
they imagined rocket ships made out of 
bicycle parts.

Was it her fault that humanity had shrunk?
Day after day she gave audience 
to unimaginative midgets, the small minded 
affronted by her regal demeanor.

When she died they gathered
to pick the spoils,  unfortunately for them
she had  long disinherited her fortune 
considering her kindred all just cheap satin
stitched over bovine buttocks.

Shame

Great Ukrainian nation in disbelief
Great Russian nation bears the burden of blame
On history shoulders another war grief
Stained by small-minded, but empowered man's shame.
Great nations now split in two, once there was one 
Caught in an evil war that can not be won. 

March 4, 2022

Excerpt From the Compilation Prayer, Number 5, Compassion, Empathy

Excerpt from the compilation: “Prayer” – 5: 
Compassion, Empathy

I wish for us to take time and Compassion 
For the underprivileged, sick and dying.
And that we may breathe into our hearts  
And practice wholehearted and unconditional 
Empathy.
And not to just walk by and coolly look away,
But to stop and maybe under the dirty rags  
We can find a human being 
And story that we connect with,
That moves us in some small or big way.
And maybe we get inspired
To try something new,
Even if only: 
To stop poisoning our days 
with repetitive dramas,
And small minded conflicts.
And maybe, we are reminded
Of our own fragile mortality
And: instead of choosing to see life 
Full of problems that irritate and shrink us.
We can start to feel grateful for the challenges 
That expand and cause us to grow
In ways that we could never ever imagine.

© Sangeet Portals 2020

Lizard Sonnet

A lizard Sonnet
 If you travel to escape the small lizard on your back
you eventually are outside your parents´ home
to find they have long since gone.
Someone else lives there perhaps a child sleep in your bed
dreaming your dream.
You will walk down the street where you used to play
but no one knows and the sense of loss is overwhelming.
Swallow hard not to cry because your memory is untrue.
You left a small-minded town, poverty and screams in the night.
but it was worth returning to remind you what an awful place you left.
I have a small lizard in the kitchen I have tried to kill it
Because it is grey and without redeeming colours that I could use as a pet.
It is also quick and hides behind the fridge where I cannot reach it.
I will let it live for now.

In the Shade of Butterflies

A small minded pack of blind monsters
shatter their mirrors - igniting hateful fires
propaganda harlots donning rancid bellows
conspiring to divide the good people 
into a petrified state of yellowing silence..

The fires root ever closer-burn hotter
bellows pumping faster-ever louder
the calloused stride of the good people hobbled
diversity of mind- socially castrated
the good people flee to the fleeting shade 
of a butterfly the prophets call faith.

...and within that dappled faith they wait
doubling down on automatics and hollow tipped gods 
planting cement angels in razor wire gardens
bracing for the tribulation-praying whole heartedly
for the day after tomorrow.

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