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See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Angst Poem | |

Ancient Warrior

I see the wrinkles in your suntanned brow,
You carried burdens then; you see them now.
You’ve heard the cries your people who in pain,
Have shed their tears two hundred years like rain. 

Your sad brown eyes, reflecting now the sky
I see the wings of eagles flying by
Beside you stands an Appaloosa mare
Her spirit one with you now over there.

You hear the drums, they bid you to come near,
Your spirit drawn the beats they ring so clear.
Song like prayers are chanted through the night,
Calling you come, and help them end their plight.  

You’ve heard sad cries and now stand at their side,
You join the prayers with both arms open wide,
United spirits sing until the dawn,
When in the fire’s flames a golden fawn.

Remembering a smile crosses your face,
When tribes were one with Mother Nature’s grace.
The lakes and streams flowing with waters clear,
Flow sadly now, the planet lives in fear.

The weightless feathers that adorn your head
Your tribes grey future weighed you down instead.
Now breathing deep you smell the winds of change
While here on earth your people rearrange.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
10.21.2014
Giorgio A.V. Contest 
Iambic Pentameter 
1st place

Details | Angst Poem | |

Shadows

Our shadows were so restless
As we passed from room to room;
They pretended to be living
But they died within their tomb

 They shrank a little bit each day
When the sun shone bright above;
And both of us now waste away
In the sadness of lost love.

In days of younger shadows
That danced in noon's bright light;
Laughter floated on the breeze
Till our day turned into night.

Burdened by life's troubles
Our shadows danced no more;
They became the darkened spots
That faded on the floor.

Now death's arms have taken you
Leaving only memories of your face;
The shadow that was part of you
Is now gone without a trace.


Collab with Danny Boy, the Kearley


Details | Angst Poem | |

What Only Angles Hear

Daddy never did understand.
That violence doesnt bring comfort.
A lost soul seeking acceptance from a unwelcome hand.

She was silent no one ever knew.
The secrets behind her bruised eyes.
A shocking victem none but all had a clue.

She cried to empty walls never speaking aloud from fear.
A confession of pain and shattred trust.
this is only what angles hear.

Scars selfinflicted  are better than that 
dirty feeling.
As she lays a broken shell gazing  at the celling.

She questions if others know what will they say.
Doing whatever it takes to stay numb.
Innocence lost a parent should never betray.

The guilt was placed apon the wrong head.
Void of all emotion.
No child should yern to be dead.

At times it gets to uncomfortable so in 
another direction we  steer.
For at times it's just to painful to stomach.
What only angles  hear.

Details | Angst Poem | |

Toilet Bowl Committee

Toilet Bowl Committee (aka: Uptown Hood)

A lavatory confinement
my$h!tdontstinkcomode.com
---
If you want to moderate this place, pick up the pace
From the mouth down to the @$$
Your so called kind has no class,
Fed by these political rejects, never elected for what was!
No matter,
They wipe their assets clean with our dreams
Forgetting to wipe their own toilet seats clean
Trying to make us feel dirtier than scat
Feeding off our paper when their toilet bowl water level is low

Toilet bowl PO-poes, wiping without dental floss
Missing everything in between reality
Trying to be kind, saying "One Day We'll Be Good Enough!"
Offering their Golden Plunger, straight from the Home Depot shelves
No Thank You! My plunger a true gift from Mr. Wal-Mart himself

Next time you feel the need to offer a reference point
Please caption your name when you drop by,
Rinse thoroughly when speaking my name,
Then I will listen when you talk civilized
Correct my punctuations and spelling errors 
The weakest trait you wear
You are no Prophet, just white tissue turning brown
Your Justification comes from old dried up grapes falling from the vines
Ridicule will never give you the respect, for what you are!
We, the few poets from the hood, overpowers any change you offer Goodwill
Crumbling and flushing what does not meet your standards
Trying hard to force feed us soup, without giving us bibs

Thank you
Toilet Bowl Committee
For clogging up my drain with your bull$h!T


By: Keeping it Real (The Downtown Hood) 
Date: 12-15-13

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Details | Angst Poem | |

The Older I Get

I once heard the whisper of falling snow,
saw a spark in the eye of a coal-black crow,
felt the power and awe of a swift river's flow,
the older I get, the less I know.

My hair was once braided in golden cornrows,
by Jamaican friends in an island below,
a psychic once asked me about Jericho,
the older I get, the less I know.

The hot southern asphalt that scalded my toe,
the rope swing that swung us, to and fro,
Christmas Eve and the tree in the firelight's glow,
the older I get, the less I know.

Everyone's gone, but where did they go?
Why is my spirit sinking so low?
Is it true we reap only what we sow?
the older I get, the less I know.


©2010 DanielleWhite

Details | Angst Poem | |

In The Chill Of An Open Door

 
Cleaning out my refrigerator, an ice cube slides to the floor
startling the cat, and interrupting a locomotive of thought
that often tracks me down in a beam of  light---
Today it streams through a  window, where everything seems marred,
by doubt, and dust, crusts of ice and sticky jello spilled on a glassy shelf.

Oh, not the first time, this revelation of light, 
I've had it before while kneeling on the floor as I do now,
and many times that I've knelt on a floor, 
to clean up my messes,...
praying for help, praying for light, praying for forgiveness...
and now on the floor to sponge up melting ice, water and tears

Raising a young family...a life so demanding...
Caring and nursing...two sides of the coin...
My father and children....my husband caught between...
It wasn't the impossible...but was never enough...
The time took a toll....why did it seem cold....as cold as the ice?
Could I have held out?.... Could I have been stronger?...
A little while longer....

I shiver with memory,... or is it guilt, and regret? Regret, perhaps shame?
Is it only the chill of the open fridge door?
       Or is it more?... So much more?

Hmm, interesting metaphor, "a open door"..........
          did I leave it open long enough,... wide enough?
Did I do all I could?  All I should ? Was I patient enough? Was I all I could be?
Was I tough enough to watch someone linger,
                lingering on, I ponder it now...

Difficult years......but a fraction of life, is how it appears,....
Now looking back.... black fades to gray..
but it comes back in spades, to haunt me today

A little while longer.....

                          I could have been stronger....





_________________________________________________________

Details | Angst Poem | |

The Ripping

You ripped me 
One word at a time
Shredded my smile
Pulled at my sensitivity
I was never strong enough 
To pull back my paper heart

You took the pieces of me
Arranged them in your perfect order
I prayed for the wind to come
Hoping I would be carried away
Flutter to a new more loving home
Instead, I endured your paper cuts 

I became your paper mâché 
Shaped into the image of you
Glued with your inconsistancies
Coated in your endless smoke
Sarcasm and beer
I marinated in your endless tears

You painted me with a retarded label
Your stupid failure of a son
Forced to endure that brush
It was with your eyes I learned to see
Everyone else was better than me
I was a failure times three

My inside empty
I became light as air
As time went on I ceased to care
It happend slowly you weren't aware
Until one day I floated past your stare
No longer raw and bare

I clawed and ripped
Rewrote my page
My renaissance 
coming of age
Not your puppet on a stage
Contorted by your rage

I have lost you to your death
The air much clearer, still I feel your breath
Within my doubts your lies still hide
Yet within me a new strength resides
Your image of me no longer applies
Doubt and fear reduced in size
No longer your "DUMMY" 
On faith I rise

For Charlotte's contest, heart and soul confessional.
Written, September 1st 2014.







Details | Angst Poem | |

MY BRIGHT DAY

He said he loved 
And said he cared
On my darkest day
Said he'd be there
The clouds moved in
The sky grow black
Never said goodbye
He never came back
Rain turned to tears
And fears to dread
Hope seemed lost
Dreams were dead
Last gasp prayer
The sun rose again
You walked by me
With a friendly grin
Ten years passed
And I'm your wife
We have two kids 
And a wonderful life
Been through storms
You didn't walk away
On darkest nights
You're my bright day

12-13-14

Details | Angst Poem | |

A LullabyTo The Lost

Life and cigarettes burn to fast.
We waste are time.
So within the moment you bask.

A pretty face has to age.
Every story meets  it's final page.
When life breaks you over its cost.
Then you'll sing a lullaby to the lost.

The lights in the street hide all but the truth my 
dear.
You can act.
But you can never mask your  fear.

In dark rooms you sell all but your soul.
A wicked moment a stolen encounter.
All things take there toll.

That sweet face has tuirned hard your so warm 
to be cold.
A secret that the bitter have already told.

Can you wash away there stench as from 
the past you are tossed.
In dark corners blood stained angles 
sing a lullaby  to the lost.

Is this hell or a nightmare  that knows no end.
A cell to most.
To others the only refuge inwhich they 
can depend.

she falls to the floor a lost look needle  
in arm.
Most will rememeber a doomed fool.
Others her wreckless charm.

She was  a junkie  and a easy lay.
More bones are broken.
Over words others say.

She sold flesh but payed the ultimate
cost.
In a dingy corner of th world.
Were the angles sing a lullaby to the lost.

Details | Angst Poem | |

I need to feel

Please
Please don't tell me how to feel
Allow me my sorrow
Let me cry for just a while
My heart needs to feel it's broken


I do not desire to be the strong one
Answers may never come
Still there is comfort in my silence
I reach into a place you cannot see
You are blinded by your knowing

Your strength can be a weakness
Blocking anothers compassion
I am not seeking answers to questions 
Please allow me to be
Let me cry for a bit longer

Within my broken
I allow God to fill the spaces
I trust Him with the answers
He whispers within my solitude
There is a strange comfort in not knowing

So today
I cry for my friend
I feel his loss
His worry
The devastation of not knowing
The fear of the approaching battle

I wish to listen
Act if required
Cheer for him
Celebrate his spirit
Hold his hand
Cry, laugh
Live in his moment
I will not
I promise not
To tell him how to feel







Details | Angst Poem | |

Thievery

                in locking away our heart....... 
                                  we become the thief of our own happiness


This poem is my reaction to Casarah's latest poem.

Details | Angst Poem | |

Open Sores

I am a coward with open sores. 
I write and wonder who it bores. 
I hear my heart and mind argue repeatedly. 
I see others carrying out my dreams; 
that’s what’s defeated me.
 
I am a coward with open sores. 
I pretend open doors are closed, and walk the other way. 
I touch base with the fear in my heart, tearing me apart,
leaving nothing to say... 
I worry the world will leave me. 
I cry because no one believes in me. 

I am a coward with open sores. 
I understand nothing comes easy. 
I say I’m happy, but even I don’t believe me. 
I dream I am healed and brave. 
I try to overcome my weaknesses before I’m in my grave. 
I hope you hear me.
I’m on all fours. 
I am a coward with open sores. 




©  2011  ~JSLaM    

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* 1st PLACE in Contest "MARCH MADNESS" Sponsored by C. Devonshire 2011

* 1st PLACE in Contest "ONE OFF" Sponsored by Brian Strand 5/11/2011 

* 1st PLACE in Contest "BEST EVER" Sponsored by P.D. 2011
                 
   

Details | Angst Poem | |

STIFLE

Try opening your ears and shutting your beak
You never listen, incessantly you shriek

So now that my claw has stifled your chatter
I’ll give it to you straight; here’s what’s the matter

The hatchlings have flown, you’ve empty nest syndrome
You’ve even tried squawking at the garden gnome

What you’re experiencing is menopause
Please realize that this is part of nature’s laws

One of our babes invited me to her nest
Where I will be treated as an honored guest

I would suggest you try finding a new spouse
One who doesn’t mind listening to you grouse

If need be, I’ll get a restraining order
I’ll take no more of your panic disorder

If you try stalking me, you’ll get a surprise
Such attempts might lead to your own demise

I am retiring and just want some peace now
The cat’s my friend, so beware of his meow



Details | Angst Poem | |

Stoned

In seeming innocence you lie upon the warm ochre
about the edges of the dust-strewn street,
a remnants of larger issues, crushed to just the right size by a killing blow.
Before the mob merged, before cat calls raised the hairs on the back of her neck,
she had been of a favorite pet, a cherished wife.  
A mother now lays dead, brought down by the bloodlust of the men around her.
Today, the stones are coated rust-red with the blood as the of women of Iraq 
are laid low by their husbands, sons, and fathers. 


Details | Angst Poem | |

Things That Seemed Poetic

Things that seemed poetic were always sad,
though I yearned for sparkle
and my dad's guffaw, which never came.
Familiar things were always drear --
repeated motions in the same old game.
There were only distant glimpses
of budding spring, fleeting views
of daffodils. The strongest
poems dealt me death and dying.
Yet I always hoped, never went under
to gray despair, always dreaming
of a garden of love that we could share.
But those forbidden delights faded
quickly away; the only reality
I understand is the ever-looming
and final one. Nothing's changed.
The strongest poems deal death and dying.

Details | Angst Poem | |

A jaded man

The sting of shattered trust
fills his veins with toxic spite,
contaminating his heart. 

He finds solace in a bottle,
quenching his resentment,
slurring forth caustic fumes;
nauseating his liver.

Until he spits her treachery up
with a sickening heave,
in the shallow, murky gutter
of a jaded man's reprieve.
 .



Details | Angst Poem | |

Bloom Not, Wolfsbane

Bloom not, cruel wolfsbane
In this forward spirit of mine
Let the moon dim and wane
For love has diseased my kind 

The girl was luscious in the wake
Rising at break of dawn
If only she knew I was a mistake
Before we made the bond

I grew fond of her everyday
And night gave me loathe and dread
My heart was weak, I couldn’t send her away
But fed in her desires instead

I kissed her in the forest of green
I had forgotten what I am
I gazed into those eyes, so keen!
A smooth and gentle lamb

 
One day I stopped to think a bit
My stomach wrenched and twirled
Through love I had lost my sense and wit
To a pitiful village girl!

Avoiding her best I could
I hid from beauty’s caresses
But again she found me in the wood
And so grew the obsession

But so grew the moon
And the waning was abstaining
Good night, wonders of the noon
With memories remaining

Alone I wandered in the cold
Knowing it was coming
The sky grew dark, the sun was sold
Behind the madness blooming 

Transforming! Changing!
My mind went all a blur
Rage deforming! Madness deranging!
I couldn’t think of her…  

The time was gone!
The night had come!
I thought I was alone
But then I saw her standing there
Pale and stiff as stone

I woke up that dawn sitting there
On the forest floor
And there lay she all bloodied and bare
The lamb that I adore!

The wounds I found were like a gift
I know they were from my girl
I’m glad she fought her will to live
As I blindly devoured her

An honorable lamb with bloodied hooves
She’ll never leave my vision
Sacrificed for ravenous wolves  
And no cry for jurisdiction 

 Bloom not cruel wolfsbane
In this forward spirit of mine
Let the moon dim and wane
For love has diseased my kind 

-an oldie , hehe
For Pd's Contest : )



Details | Angst Poem | |

This Song is for my Mother

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
I couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
A song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Created and cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Memory of a mother
Shared my dreams and really cared

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Mama…
I know I wasn’t there……

For you

Would have placed 
A magic carpet 
‘neath your weak and shaky legs

Would have raised
A strong west wind
Let you breathe with ease again

Would have bribed 
God’s venal angels
Come and soothe your endless pain

Would have vanquished
All the demons
And bring peace to you again

Be the child
I never knew
In a land
We won’t grow old

Be the light
I always loved
Warmed my dark 
And lonely soul

Be the girl
Playing games
In a world 
The sun won’t set

Be the laughter
Calms my heart
I never will forget
I won’t forget, won’t forget

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
Couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
Song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Created….cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke

I broke my promises, oh mama
Now you’ve gone away 
I’m broken
Drowning in the pain each day

I’m  drowning…drowning...drowning…drowning

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me…….



Details | Angst Poem | |

IN RED'S SILENT FURY


Metallic city howls like a wounded animal scraped by nocturnal vigils of grandchildren and elders emaciated like tuberculosis lungs gasping from chug-chugs of tobacco soot... and the face of a night is hammered by ripped moans like plucked strings in motel rooms; pagan women opening limbs for a meal in silent fury. This is the other side of town... beggars peddling hope; factory shoulders ranting over shuffled cards and fired gin as wives’ blistered fingers clean rented pots, gibbering same monotone of hymn, “give us daily bread, daily bread”. Outside, the pier coughs off the commercial honks of weighed cargo reeked with labor’s perspiration, where pawnshops buzz with greed's snicker... the evening owl attempts winks under the grime of bloodied moon… it spits the larynx of tenants’ raged hoots wishing morsels of fresh sunset would pour some grace of life’s salve, before the shrill of red sets in... again.
Color of Sound Contest/ Monterey Sirak by nette onclaud

Details | Angst Poem | |

Paranoid love

Tell me that this fear is just paranoia in my mind, 
we're not straining, we're not struggling, 
we're not sinking, we're just fine. 
I'm not perfect my dearest, but damn have I tried, 
and I'll try harder but I know I'll have the same results every time. 
Do you want me all the ways that I am? 
With all the struggles and the tears and the clinging to your hand. 
I fear your getting further and Im left on the shore to stand, 
watching you in the distance with a bullet in my hand. 
Tell me all this worry, its just clutter in my mind, 
tell me not to worry that we're doing just fine. 
Cause Im scared to run you off and I feel Im falling deep. 
And Im so frightened of these thoughts that its getting hard to sleep.
All I know is that the heart wants what it desires, 
because of you the match inside has turned into a fire. 
And I feel the broken glass thats sticking from my skin, 
Wondering if you'll remove the pain or push it back in. 
My hearts frantic wondering if you feel the same, 
pleading and begging for more than just a saying, 
but to feel and to see that im not alone, 
with being in this love thats overwhelming. 
Once I told you that we didnt have a spark, 
but you were lighting up and I was sitting in the dark. 
And this fire, this blaze its wrapped in desire. 
Im terrified to lose you, I think I might die or, 
maybe disappear from all the pieces falling out, 
im going crazy but when i open my mouth, nothing comes out, 
and I cant explain to you why I just need to hold you close, 
why every time you leave Im scared to let you go, 
why these tears are building up behind my eyes, 
all I know is that the heart wants what it desires 
and it desires to be your wife. 
So tell me in my panic, that your words are true, 
tell my my dearest what I mean to you, 
tell me that this paranoia is all within my mind 
we're not struggling, we're not sinking tell me we're just fine

Details | Angst Poem | |

TWO LOVES

Had two loves that lit my life
These two things made me new
I was sure you were the one
Then you left.. my muse left too

You were such sweet perfection
More tender than a butterfly
My mornings and my evenings
The only girl that made me cry

So surprised.. You said it was over
In a nightmare and can't wake up
I'm running on an empty tank
And there's no love to fill my cup

I've been a singer and song writer
Thought if you left I'd just sing blues
When you did I grabbed for my pen
But my muse had run off with you

Date: 11-1-14

Details | Angst Poem | |

Phobia

No flame within! 
      do I hold for you
no delightful delicacy
      shall I put to rhyme.

No picturesque words
      in italics of your
woeful wildlife, no
      acknowledgement of
the ancient mariner, he
      that crossed the margin
of our “Atlas of the world.”

     (Still in use, [I believe] in the
old stone museum.)
     
     One can easily live in fear
of your many mordant moods,
     to see you capture the
embracing horizon, where warring
     clouds fondle the sunlight,
and the departing QE 2 is
     reduced to microcosm.

How can one live in awe of
      you, when at the end of each
day you snatch at the light of
    sustenance, therefore
giving license to the veil
    of damnation, soon to be cast
out of the east, driving impending
    fears to languish upon the
unholy waters of the Styx?

 (An extraction of the mind,
an evaporation of the memory
     the spray dried brain
tossed into oblivion.)

   Yet each morning an
interval to one’s ongoing
   nightmare, when with renewed
levitation, the new light reprieved!
   Begins avidly it’s universal
journey across Manukau’s
   “Pack ‘n’ Save” Car park.

Oh yes! It is so easy to hate you;
      you that brought the rest of
the world here, you that constitutes
    a world within a world, that,
where the cycle of life creates it’s
     own constitution, each player
judged on cue, to become an act of
   fodder, mobile supermarkets
in ferocious competition with
    nothing at all to give.

“Unless death itself is a gift!”

    Upon the surface your
treachery still lingers, there,
    tenacious tentacles lurk
within the sedulous surf,
    groping blindly at sedated
rocks, those pinnacles of sanctuary
    that harbour the weary,
support the rod.

   Only when gravitation truly
intervenes, does the perpetual
   invasion subside, leaving one in
no doubt about your promiscuity!

         © Harry J Horsman   

















Details | Angst Poem | |

DANCE AMONG THE FLOWERS

Dance among the flowers
Let's have a party and a tea
Dreaming of the future, and
How I think that things should be
Life should be an adventure
A Prince should take me to the Ball
The wind always fills my sails
When I'm with him, gonna have it all

I dream out loud to make it clear
This little girl has no fear

Growing up is not easy
So much is not what it seems
No time to smell the roses
Or to think of childhood dreams
Life just becomes survival
My Prince was really a pauper too
My ship never left the harbor 
Happy days are all too few

My dreams long gone, nothing near
Grown up girl.. So many tears

Hide behind the surface
So you think that I am strong
Inside I'm falling to pieces
How could everything go wrong
Life can make you bitter
A shell of what you could be
Drowning out in the ocean
So far out that none can see

Prayed for a miracle, a new song
That a true Prince would come along

Met you the next morning
Your humor made me smile
The way you looked at me
I hoped you'd stay for awhile
You came a little closer
Then you gently took my hand
Words can't describe it all
Lost dreams were being fanned

You were my miracle, you were my song
All of those childhood dreams, They were inside all along

Dance among the flowers
Let's have a party and a tea
Dreaming of the future, and
How I think that things should be
Life should be an adventure
A Prince should take me to the Ball
The wind always fills my sails
When I'm with him, gonna have it all

I dream out loud to make it clear
This little girl has no fear

You were my miracle, you were my song
All of those childhood dreams,
They were inside all along


*This is the story of a little girl growing up with amazing dreams, only to be devastated by the harsh realities of life.  Then by chance, in her adult life,  she meets someone that restores her belief in dreams she thought were long gone.
12-16-14

Details | Angst Poem | |

Strength

The trip to church on Sunday wasn't long
Down dry dusty country roads closer roamed
Hearts did rejoice when singing love's sweet song
Precious memories now deeply intoned

A home filled to the brim with kith and kin
No evidence of the grief she suffered
When in her youth tales of such loss did spin
By age of twenty-five her life crumbled

Joys of a young bride with husband beside
Darling daughters three in tow~gone~from life
Oh, life issues such hard brazen blows inside
No longer was she a mother and wife

Her faith in a loving God never failed
She had strength of character which prevailed  

I have been doing some research about my biological family
I found that my father's mother was married in her youth
and had three daughters which all died as did her husband..
She married my grandfather and then had four sons which
all lived..She never gave up her faith through it all..What strength.

Details | Angst Poem | |

Fear

Trust in your fear
As it speaks with a voice
Or you'll be left in pieces
With no longer a choice

For your fear will take over
In vociferous chant
To pieces you will collapse
In meandering rant

So when ever this word
Called fear appears
Don't fall to pieces
Or your soul disappears




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-3.php