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Ode Angst Poems | Ode Poems About Angst

These Ode Angst poems are examples of Ode poems about Angst. These are the best examples of Ode Angst poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ode | |

Ode to a Woodpecker

The ladder backed pecker,
like a prison uniform.
Caught-up in exposing
the truth beneath the bark,

of the poet's apple tree.
We prefer ourself in spring;
with tiny little flowers,
and the fruit of possibility.

Yet, if not for the woodpecker,
tapping holes into poems,
we might not ever see
the flesh and blood of raw meat.

I will climb that ladder back,
escape pre-decreed standards.
Tap into that syrupy mixture
and suck-out truth from hard wood.

Yes, lessons from a jail bird.
A pest in the Avian Kingdom.
Wisdom from the little rebel,
beat-out of a tree.

Copyright © Dean Walker | Year Posted 2006

Details | Ode | |

The Unknown Poet n' the Lover with an Immortal Heart (Part 5 Final)

This new born day I celebrate your souls release from guilt n’ captivity since that day you 
felt a carnal touch of sin within as your hands played poetically upon the curves of your dead 
lover’s silken skin…
I know now  you made your way to the top of the rocks to plant a tree to guard this sacred 
place where I fell from thee n’ you repeated the poetic chant of love’s abandoning to follow 
me into our karmic destiny…

On that fateful day your soul bled away at the top of this crest by a solitary juvenile tree, 
your body of words fell to the rocks at the base of this cliff, embroidered into the blood of 
me…
The one who would hold a feather to her face on this crest by the sea n’ remember finally 
the days gone by of you n’ me, our deaths from love’s abandoning when you my love were 
lost to this world n’ me for ten centuries…

I now await destiny as we will love forever more with immortal hearts…

Copyright © Lilt Of Orpheus | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme | |

Ode to psycho

Your reasoning is childish and idiotic
Your behavior actually is defined as psychotic

How can you act with such a lack of understanding
This level of stupidity is hard to imagine

Believe me when I say it's true
It is not me
It's definitely you

Copyright © Spanish Rose | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ode | |

Welcome To My Life

I'm dying in this slow decay of the senses.
Senseless agony consumes my mind.
Eating my soul until I'm gray.
Gray like the leaves at your funeral.
The day the color faded and beauty went away.
The sky is falling, 
But, only on me.
As the Heavens are calling,
They tell me to leave.
But don't put your faith, your faith in me.
Don't trust fate,
For nothing is meant to be.
The slow silent squeezing of my petrified soul.
I left my heart with the sugar,
In the bottom of the bowl.
The wounds of the mind,
Based solely on the knife.
Look for my flaws and you'll always find....
Welcome to my life.

Copyright © Rachel Mathews | Year Posted 2007

Details | Ode | |

Letting Go

Two precious little memories
Two sweet little angels
Watching over me from heaven
Who were not for this earth
Never had the chance to grow
No first step, no first word
Never to know life’s ups and downs
No future to behold
Judgment impaired, mistakes made
No turning back time
Will ever change the course
It has to fallow thru
Rest in peace my babies
God will take care of you
You were to tender 
For this rough world
We never had the chance
 To know each other
You are in my thoughts
I will see you in heaven

Copyright © Teresa Lindsay | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode | |

INSOMNIA

(FOR THOSE WHO CANT SLEEP)

Morpheus you traitor! 
Why have you abandoned me? 
And Left me to the mercies 
Of my destructive mind. 
The cruelty of silence, 
The ceiling, 
Engulfing walls. 
The constant drip 
Of some faraway tap. 
This bed of sorrow, 
This trap of regret,
 and those forgotton voices 
That linger within my soul.
 Oh please Morpheus! 
Won't you lay, 
Your cool hand 
Upon my brow, 
And wash away today.

Copyright © paul martin | Year Posted 2015

Details | Bio | |

Solitude: To Yoda, An Ode

Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode | |

Mysterious Crush

Mystery person, you haunt my mind
Which is torture at times,
Mystery person, you're hard to find
But that’s fine, your voice is beautiful like golden chimes.
You can pretend I'm just a creep.
Your beauty is beyond compare
Those lovely eyes say a thousand words
Truth is I think of you before I sleep.
Your beautiful locks of brown hair
They're so beautiful it's absurd

Copyright © R. M. Eichmiller | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ode | |

Musings of Mother

"I shall be telling this with a sigh" Robert Frost My thoughts they roil like waters dark in the abyss of blackest night with memories of mother’s book marks of Longfellow read by lamp light. She called in the room around me the patter of other small feet, her gentle voice fetched angels Oh, rhymes how they astounded me like lullabies soft and so sweet. All fearsome shadows, she’d dispel Maxine, my queen read Tennyson and the Charge of the Light Brigade a little girl dreamt of caissons roll and thunderous cannonades. To be so brave the small child mused mother’s small, precious, heroine what would it take to stand so strong without father, and not confused What words where the linchpin to right mother’s tell tale wrong. Such sad inspiration*.. mother but a champion you were born. You’re adored before all others yet, tears bring memories forlorn. So, dreams stream on of Mother Goose three kittens and their mittens. My visions of your fleeting smile return almost every night, and your spirit comforts, lightens sights, if only for a little while.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2010

Details | Ode | |

Childeren of Heaven


Wait for hope, another sunshine,
Screams un opened, ache suppress,
Tears hold in eyes, cry less whine,
Penniless life eked out with depress,
 
Roving on the way with shoeless feet,
Spent dreadful life in great poverty,
Staring at shop for seeking of Sweet,
Sleep tight in roofless sovereignty,
 
Playing in downy mud, and quag,
Whether it's a winter or summer scorch,
These innocent child utter no nag,
Pass rest of their journey with single torch,
 
Being empty pockets and hands,
No mean to them for which they can,
Buy things of choice and colorful bands,
Scenario, the same for all poor clan,
 
Their life is full of burdensomeness,
Where no calm or rests exist,
Dawn to dusk with onerousness,
Embrace the hurdles, thorns and curvy twist.

Shahid Hussain Chouhdry

Copyright © M. Shahid H. Chouhdry | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode | |

Military Veteran Lamentations -Our Boys, V-Day 11-11-11


America…
wet behind the ears
our boys
soldiers screwed beyond their years

healthy “Kens”
displaced from their “Barbies and Babies”
KILL ‘EM ALL!
programmed to forget 
about what ifs 
ands
or maybes

SEEK AND DESTROY!
when deployed, "Boy go!"

Erase your youth 
Ken
now you’re real damn men!
geddem’ G.I. JOE!

the present is your rifle
so don’t blink about the past
enemies are better dead
so spray them AK’s fast

ATTENTION! 
now Private
grab the phone and tell your Mom
you’re comin’ home insane (or in a box)
like our boys in Vietnam!

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011

Details | Ode | |

Mandela's grave

Remember ninety-five
When we felt free
We felt alive
We hugged and kissed
Rejoiced in freedom
Rejoiced and sung
Songs of freedom

Mandela walked 
As skeptics talked
But he walked on high
And touched the sky

He loved and he gave
The spirit of the brave
He forgave and reconciled
A sad and battered child

He gave us hope
He gave us life
He freed us from our thoughts of strife

He crossed the divide
Of crossword puzzle blocks
And gave us the clues
-	We threw down our rocks

But here we are now
Tectonic plates crash on our brow
Where is the hope gone?
Where is the future that we had won? 
As we slipped from meritocracy
To simple mediocrity
We look around
And all we found
Was our hopes dashed
Dashed to the ground

Our children suffer, forlorned 
Whilst louts with shovels shovel the gold
Of our future that was pawned 
For the few our future was sold

And as the fat asses
Roam around in masses
Eating the hay that was made when the sun still shone
Eating the food that the cattle had won

But brayingly they still prance around
Relishing in their new wealth found
As the baby dies hungry and cold
And the baby is buried in hallowed ground

Remember back in ninety-five
When we all felt thrilled –
Alive!
Remember the victory songs
Of how we would right the wrongs
But now we wrong the right
As for gold and wealth we fuss and fight

And in his cold and lonely grave
Mandela turns
And weeps
As his long road 
Stops
At his grave

Copyright © Daniel Human | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode | |

Gaze of the universe

And the bronze head,
rose from the flames,
molten dew drops glistening,
those soulless eyes peering,
deep,
peering far, 
far into the void,
the cosmos twirling,
the blinking of stars, 
as celestial bodies 
were birthed and consumed,
star dust spread, 
to every corner of this universe
and the bronze head,
just gazed motionless, 
into the abyss,
seeing far into the past,
great pyramids built by Pharaohs,
monuments built to god's and men

and further, further,
the distant sons and daughters,
of amoeba pulling themselves, 
out of the ocean, 
onto land, 
great roots stretching deep, 
into the cold soil, 
laying down the foundations,
for a great migration of matter in motion,

and the gaze saw further still,
saw the birth of the universe,
a great unfurling, 
the forming of galaxies in clusters, 
those who found partners to dance with
and those who waltzed alone,

and far into the future the gaze did penetrate,
to when Andromeda and the milky way, 
would embrace passionately with a fervour,
that would set fire to all life and balance,
an amour fou that would cause suns, 
to be blown out like candles,

the bronze head of the architect,
saw all this 
and felt neither remorse nor joy,
just apathy at the unwinding of clockwork coils,
the universe was a dark unfeeling place,
but in our little oasis of the desert,
despite knowing Andromeda's sand storm 
presses towards us,
despite this we look to the stars,
and feel, 
and hope,
moved by the beauty and horror of the world,
little clockwork clusters of matter,
who's eyes like those of a newborn infant,
aren't ready to see far yet,
but who's hazy gaze is one of wonder
and awe.

Copyright © Oliver Gould | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

FIfty Five and Still Alive - Ode to the Adult Community

So now we sit around and stare
The truth is that there's no one there
Not a soul found on the street
A passing wave would be a treat
At fifty five
While still alive
A choice was made
And plans were laid
As seniors this was all quite new
Now open to a lucky few
A clubhouse with some gorgeous ground
Surely neighbors would be found
Day and night we'd be so busy
Activities would leave us dizzy
So finally we made the switch
Moved right in without a hitch
We then just took a casual walk
To find someone and start to talk
Yet not a soul was to be found
As we made our stroll around
And soon our hearts were full of dread
Had we found the living dead
So now we simply sit alone
Hoping to just hear the phone
So when it's time to sell your home
And find a place to settle down
Remember just to check it out
Or be the only one in town
There's more to life when you've got cash
Then see your neighbor
Take Out trash

Copyright © Gary Kraidman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Blank verse | |

Ode to Kafka

What is this creepy thing
Infecting my body?
Busily digesting my flesh, melting,
The first stages of the blob.
End of my extremities
Swell ominously, wriggling,
Undulating like giant worms
Busily digesting my tissue
I’m becoming what I fear most,
Mistaken for castings
Shoveled up and thrown
On the compost heap.

Copyright © James Gibbons | Year Posted 2010

Details | Ode | |

Chasing Happiness

There was a man,
he wasn't frightened 
and he loved mysteries 
and that's what happiness is all about.

Always chasing a scene,
a moment lost in time,
a smile, 
a feeling,
a connection,

trying to get back to some place,
that may or may not of ever existed,
some memory,
a great conversation,
a feeling of camaraderie,
to fall in love,

we spool through
the past while existing,
in the present,
trying to re-enact,
re-stage past events, 
we believe brought us happiness and fulfilment,

but we are swimming against the ocean current,
no, it is not even this,
because to go back to the past isn't difficult,
it's impossible,

not a word we like to hear
and the memories of happiness gone by,
happiness lost,
taunt us,
a picture of oxygen presented to a drowning man,

we chase the past
because we can not picture,
happiness in the future,
it's causes are too nuanced, too elliptical,
but we know what brought us happiness in the past,
so we cling to the idea, 
that these things can be relived for comfort,

it is in this fear, 
that there will be no happiness tomorrow, 
fear born of the emotions elusive nature,
that we seal are fate,
a self fulfilling prophesy.

There was a man
he wasn't frightened 
and he loved mysteries 
and that's what happiness is all about.

Copyright © Oliver Gould | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode | |

Humanity Calamity Insanity

Institutional reformation inside of this nation 
Prisons have risen to the ranks of solicitation

Politicians in formation line up for their vacations
Due to a prisoners isolation

The ideology behind this hypocrisy
Is some kind of demented democracy
And a continuing demagoguery

Oh the humanity
A convicts calamity
Thanks to political insanity


Copyright © Darren Deichen | Year Posted 2007

Details | Ode | |

Ode to A Healthy Prisoner

Just breathe in the clarity
Clarity of the whole
Whole or negativity
Negativity eating your soul

Head for tomorrow
Tomorrow always waits
Waits for enlightenment
Enlightenment heals mistakes

You are where you’ve put yourself
Your “SELF” now reminds you of shame
Shame brought on by acting out thoughts
Thoughts a conscious shouldn't retain

Give yourself an apology
An Apology you deserve to have
Have some faith in your timing
Timing bleeds wisdom in man 

Bless your self and live righteous
Righteous spirits rise above 
Above all if you are kind
Kind souls conquer hate with love

Poetry brings torment to a halt
Halt all your never-ending thoughts
Thoughts are forbidden evil hiding
Hiding light inside divine spots

So please write down your own deep thoughts
Thoughts penned will conquer your inside trap
Trap your life up in your cell  all alone
Alone you shall stay smelling your crap~



please don't be offended by the last line~ 
I felt it was necessary to get my point across~

Copyright © Jane Bowen | Year Posted 2008

Details | Ode | |

Hour of the Beast

12 shadows cast deep,
into the jaws of the night,
deep within that howling void,
far beyond anything, 
resembling light,
anything resembling hope,
12 shadows linked arm in arm,
so as to form a circle, 
rotating clockwise,

the sunken beast,
surfaced to breathe,
great struggled rasps,
laboured rasps,
from the tired creature,
it's yellow reptilian eyes, 
exhausted and melancholy,

a mouth that broke 
from the water of an immense pit,
with great effort,
kept just above the surface,
enough to breathe,

the rest of it's vast body,
that great mass of scales and fat,
lay their chained to the bottom of the pool,
great rusted iron locks kept the beast,
suppressed for thousands of years,

but rust would take it's toll
and those locks would break eventually
and that ancient behemoth would be free once more,
to roam,
to roam with a thousand years of ideas,
a thousand stories of revenge waiting to be written,
in the annuls of history, 

those merciless yellow eyes watched the shadows,
watched as they made their dance, 
round and round they went,
every foot fall,
bringing the hour closer,
every revolution weakening the locks,
eroding the chains,
bringing that ferocious sunken head a little closer to the surface,

a thousand jagged mangled teeth,
flexed a smile from the mire,
it would be the beasts time soon again,
when books would burn and wisdom would be lost,
for every renaissance when we endeavour, 
to ply the beast with chains afresh, 
suppress the influence of the church 
and allow liberty, ideas and science to flourish, 
there must be a corresponding time, 
when old chains give way,
once more we must be devoured by that great sunken beast,
that can be suppressed but never truly killed.

Copyright © Oliver Gould | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode | |

Sometimes A Lonely Way

love like fire consumes my skin, 
leaves a chard husk as cruel wind carries the ash away, 
so deep I feel the white hot burning and where were you, 
where was humanity then. 

I listen carefully for voices from the void, 
only ever to here those of my own echoes. 

fear runs deep, 
this reservoir of pain, 
like a hollow structure waiting to cave in on itself, 
I am weak and I feel abandoned by a world that see's me as a burden, 

so set me on fire, 
I wish to burn, 
so bury me deep, 
I don't want to live, 
you can keep you're cruel world I want no part of it, 
just leave me be, 

just love me, 
just reach out give me you're hand and you're smile, 
don't leave me here alone, 
so alone, I can't take it, 
I thought I could, 
I told myself, 
I needed no one and now no one is what i've got, 
wont you reach out your hand to mine, 
touch my face, 
kiss me with warm love filled lips, 
nurse this sunken spirit back to health,
but don't abandon me now,
 
I am marooned on this island alone, 
just waiting for rescue, 
planes and boats go by constantly, 
call it pride but i just can't seem to call them down for help, 
but god if one doesn't come here soon and offer me rescue, 
I just don't know what ill do.

Copyright © Oliver Gould | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode | |

Beloved Companions -part 1-

**This is a special set of poetry written with my friend Justin Connor--we each wrote separate accounts of special companions. The ending verse we wrote together. These poems are meant to be one piece of work. **

Scarcely a year old, I remember with sad, sinking heart 
But then I smile, because I remember all the good times 
It was the night of Pentecost, our little kitten was found 
My mother, happy to bring in the oddest of pets, 
Curled her fingers around a small kitten, beaming
And there was sunlight in all eyes all the night
He had been crying in the bushes for a place to stay
And he had found one…it might have been destiny
There was something in his green eyes that dazzled me 
Weakening and strengthening my heart all in one I held him in my arms,
A special cat on a special day
Pentecost is his name, and it is here he will remain 
I remember everyone loved him because of his grace
That dreamy eye and soft-hearted face
I remember the first night and many more nights to come
I turned my music box, opened it up and sang him a song
He listened intently and soon was fast asleep
His small colorful multi-marked body breathing deeply
His tiny, white boot legs tucked under his chest
“You’re the best, Pentecost,” I whispered. “You’re the best…” 
Even my father, who was never fond of cats,
Was won over by his embraceable charms
Pentecost would spawn an effort to make him smile 
Stretching out on the floor making sure everyone was watching
Listening lovingly to my dad’s favorite classical repertoire.. 
He would ring around our ankles with his paws playfully 
Causing us to scream in shock and skip away 
He would jump back from the shriek making us laugh up a storm
And look up at all the noise curiously
Pentecost also liked small boxes to squeeze into
I would lift up a cardboard flap to see a whiskered jewel
And he would look up at us and wonder 
Can we make room for two?
He favored no one and was friendly with all
Long and muscular, this cat had boundless energy
One point he’d be at the window
And the next in the laundry, his tail whipping
What I will never forget was how happy he would lay in the grass
I would watch him and pet him, the sun hitting his fur
Gray black stripes and swirls of art lighting all at once
His soft, sensitive ears rubbing against my arm 
The affection was mutual as Destiny knew 

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode | |

Ignoring Life

And I was sailing,
or resting, one foot dangling on the side of the boat, 
eyes strained and moist staring at the beautiful clear blue sky, 
line all but forgotten about, 
rocking gently side to side chewing on a long blade of grass, 
I lean over to stare into the clear river, 
the river plants waving happily, 
fish playfully getting themselves caught in the reeds and frolicking with one another, 
disturbing the curmudgeonly hermit crabs, 
who are just trying to get a moments peace.

truly science is profound and the cosmos a joy, 
but unburdened by any sense of duty to discover or shame in non participance.

I finally find myself at peace with the world, 
life is meant for living, 
not fretting over money or friends, sex or knowledge, 
life isn't any of these things.

life is the blue sky, 
life is the fish in that beautiful shining river, 
life is sprawled out on some rickety little wooden boat, 
half asleep half day dreaming.

I've wasted too much of my time ignoring life.

Copyright © Oliver Gould | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode | |

Faces in the dark

sweet life like treacle, 
sticks and runs through my fingers,
a foul yet sickly sweet aroma chokes my lungs,
I can't shake the stuff off try as I might,
I look in frantic panic,
trying to spot anyone who might help me out of this predicament, 
but to no avail,
I am caught in this blissful nightmare,
a thousand neon colours revolving around my head, 
dancing and swirling, 
revolting and entrancing, 
confusing and enchanting, 
I feel nauseous and dizzy,
with a confused smile, 
stretched wide across a face drenched in sweat,

people I am unsure of, 
shake my hand and welcome me,
a long line of friendly greeters, 
and my head can't make sense of it all,
then the colours fade away 
and hands are withdrawn,
the procession of strangers, 
becomes a sea of cold callous creatures,
judging me and laughing at me behind my back,
now the lights are dimmed, 
I only see the shadowy silhouettes of the crowd
and in the darkness, 
faces appear sinister and inhuman,
mouths full of jagged teeth, 
wearing malicious smirks,
a coldness comes over this place,
just me, 
the dark
and these creatures of cold indifference.

Copyright © Oliver Gould | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode | |

Not feeling yourself

Who was I,
in that sea of beauty,
who was I,
could never talk to you,
never hold you,
never be with you,
I am no-one,
with nothing to offer,
the best I can do is act,
play the part of someone with confidence,
someone who's happy,
but what's the point if it's a lie,
where's the glory if it's all a lie,
you keep walking down that road, 
and you start to confuse the lies with the truth,
till you can no longer trust yourself,
till you've made an enemy of yourself,
and when you do that you truly have no-one, 
who am I,
in that sea of beauty,
who am I,
talking to you,
never to trust myself again,
never to know what it means to be myself again,
an actor who can no longer tell which face is the mask.

Copyright © Oliver Gould | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

An ode to old friends forgotten and made invisible

the past is a ringing bell
the people... stale sirens
the present feels an uncertain hell
there's no dark shadows to hide in
the lurid unknown awaits vacant and pale
The path to take undecided

the past is a ringing bell, a deafening thought
old friends unfit for this new world i saw
the faces, the talks,the ideologies... all things i've outgrown
I wish broken slumber in the far,foreign,unknown
We'll forget each other easy as the days move swift
I'll quietly make leave so you'll forget I exist

Copyright © Winter Wallace | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme | |

Tap Dance Ode to the Writer's Pitch

You better be a little rich,
If you choose to make a pitch.
By bus or car you make the trip,
You've trained yourself just not to slip.
The agents sit; a motley crew,
A few may even look at you.
To them it's just the same old hat,
To find some meat stuck in the fat.
The writer wonders what they think,
Is he good or does he stink?
Most go home with little done,
Was this pitch just done for fun?

Copyright © Gary Kraidman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Blank verse | |

Ode(ious) to Cancer

C ells with
A naplastic large cell problems
N eed to be treated - is there a
C ure for what I've got?
E vidently not -- 
R ats!

R eally, I'm not that
E ducated on the concept
A nd I don't want to 
R ead up on the
S ubject

I 'd much rather
T hink it's gone
S omewhere

U nknown and undefined -- a
G ame I play with myself, a
L ie I tell myself and
Y ou

H ey!
E verbody!
A nybody?
D amn!


A lright, I
G uess I'll just
A ccept the fact that
I have been given this
N ew life 

O pportunity to
H eal

W ith the 
E xcellent support and
L ove of my friends --
L ife never dies, does it?

Copyright © Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson | Year Posted 2006

Details | Ode | |

Defiant Beauty

A heavy beast,
sluggishly crept
ever onward,
it's coat 
a ton of beautiful fur,
glistened
wet from the morning dew,

patches of white light
shone out, 
reflecting from the fur,
patches of brilliant light
that shone and danced,
upon a creature
who struggled to breathe,
who's every step forward
was a brave act of defiance,
who's eyes could not betray
fear and pain,
but who's heart
was too strong and
too proud to quit without a fight,

in the clearing
heads turned,
vultures landed to stare,
prairie dogs gathered in rows,
not waiting for there chance
but in awe they watched,
this magnificent creatures,
defiant swan song

and you could swear the wind 
was no longer howling but singing
and that the chirping of the birds 
had joined in chorus,
for just that one moment
the world took notice
and joined in honouring
the last moments
of a creature of such profound beauty,
such defiant sad beauty.

Copyright © Oliver Gould | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode | |

In you're arms

Warm rapid of delight engulf my skin,
allow me to drown, 
or wallow in this warm plight,
not strong, 
not quite enough,
but here if you should need me,

not ready to hand in the towel,
not quitting just yet,
but perhaps racing towards my own defeat,

step on me,
put me out,
if it'l make you smile,
I would like that,

suffocate me,
I feel like I could take it,
especially if it might end me,
or make you happy,

but whatever happens,
please wrap me in you're arms,
I don't care if you're just a flirt,
I don't care if it kills me inside,

as long as I can fall back into those arms,

treacherous and wicked,
do you see me as just a play thing,
do you just enjoy the attention,
or was I so stupid that I could not,
reciprocate you're feelings for me,

so maybe I am racing towards my own defeat,
or maybe I'm not going anywhere,
but as long as I wind up, 
in you're arms just once more,
I suppose it doesn't matter.

Copyright © Oliver Gould | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

Why Wait Ode to Still Another Writer

At 64 you take a stance,
You'll never get another chance.
The zero option's not a joke,
No sense just waiting for a stroke.
So you let the novel fly,
There's big bucks there
It's worth a try.
You wait too long
It's never read
Stays on your shelf 
When you're long dead.

Copyright © Gary Kraidman | Year Posted 2013