Ure my chemical imbalance tipping the scales
Ure the voice shouting leaving me pale
Ure the fright in the middle of a soulless night
Ure broken glass on the sidewalk
Ure cuts thru my shoes while u mock
Ure poetry in motion with nausea
Ure incurable when I wanna be done dotta
Ure an audio clip on a permanent loop
Ure the scandal rag with a crappy scoop
Ure rinse and repeat without a cleanse
Ure finite resources thru a single lens
Ure the reason for recurring work in progress
Ure my daily dose of fogginess
Ure the vacuum of perpetual thoughts
Ure the story who cannot be bought
Ure the constant double edge sword
Ure responsible for striking a chord
Ure the force I try so hard to counter with good
Ure responsible for me being misunderstood
Ure my nemesis and friend all the same
Ure the one enabling me to be creatively insane
No pills, no frills, just terrifying numbness followed by troubling relaxations
A pattern of chills trying not to succumb to this rollercoaster of varying sensations
Copyright © Christopher Delegans 2023
It looks almost full or half empty.
A pregnant bulge
something firmer than a sandwich
less firm than a brick.
A dirty diaper?
Something worse?
Once I found a dead parakeet
wrapped in a discarded paper bag,
when I dropped it in disgust
its head lolled out,
one dull eye fixed upon
the space I had just left.
The paper is mottled by damp winds,
stained as if hands had clutched it
too long.
Here it is, a sore thumb
in an deserted parking lot.
Poked the bag with a nudging toe,
unsure, circle it apprehensively.
Decide at last
when something's too big
to be left behind - yet is left behind,
then best to leave it
bloody-well alone.
Looking after this dog for a couple of weeks,
he seems nice enough.
The problem is I have no idea how much food and water to give him,
How the hell am I supposed to know about a dog's eating habits.
As breakfast time came around, I just had to wing it.
"A couple scoops will do you" I apprehensively said.
As I served him his meal, he turned to me and gave me a sickening look,
Almost like I'd killed his family member or something.
I think I'd given him too little.
Like a seedling reaching for
the sun's warm rays,
Each of you helped me to find
my poetic way.
I peeked out, apprehensively.
Yet you danced and shouted,
"Hurray, hurray! Come, with us
and pen your way!"
I still am growing word by word,
Sometimes words flow, other
times, so incredibly slow.
So many times, I desired to stop.
My pen covered and wet with salty
teardrops.
I had to grow here and accept
some poet friends abandon you.
But new ones constantly pop up!
God has seen to it that through
your love, I shan't give up!
I have received the most loving
soupmails from those who see
my potential.
Raising my thoughts to things,
celestial.
Those have spurred me on to
reach that zenith...
I once thought was unachievable,
thank you.
And may your poetic works be
more than just dreamable!
With my love and respect,
~Panagiota Romios~
September 18, 2019
Apprehensively extend unsteady fingers
confirm externalization of the beat I hear.
Heat waves tighten my lungs in hollow breaths
and quick sanded is the lock on my knees.
The moment approaches with inescapable aura
trapped on my own irrevocable stubbornness
my body ignored in the ambition to tame
this frightened drum that sounds the rhythm of life.
I focus on the increasingly distant instant
in which I look back at this nonsensical state
and laugh at my disproportionate frail disgrace.
Eyes travel to fruitful ground of conquest
that requires dominance over this, a test
which is the control of our spirits vehicle.
God Had a Plan
Written: by Tom Wright
3/5/2014
My life holds no mystery as Stonehenge’s Rocks,
But has been lived throughout with resolve;
My innermost thoughts extended outside the box,
Apprehensively watching each epoch dissolve;
I lay claim to province for all things I’ve done,
And approached each day as a totally new game;
Some appeared a continuance of the previous one,
In my quest to serve others not lucre or fame;
And through each endeavor the Lord has endowed,
Even during times which found my spirit shaken;
At fifty-six came flame outs from the field I plowed,
Ensuing years have permitted my faith to reawaken.
A couple shares scenes strolling arm-in-arm
Midst October trees in vivid colors.
A brisk breeze captures leaves that shower down,
Some alight softly on the couple's crowns.
Little sparrows perched high on birch branches
Apprehensively flit from limb to limb.
Tender kisses beneath fall's canopy,
As light rain begins to drift droplets,
Dappled sunlight seeks a way past shadows
Like a foggy floating specter of light.
The wind whispers, sharing secret passions
As kindred hearts meld into each other.
No cold is felt by the season's crisp air;
Romance warmed by a myriad of hues...
Love in soft shades of a scarlet sunset,
Embraced by nature's gifts, two become one.
9-20-2017 rev.
Choose A Topic - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Russell Sivey
A) Write a Poem on the subject of: LOVE AND ROMANCE!!
Autumn Romance Poetry Contest- Second Place
Sponsored by: Julie Rodeheaver
My
small cute
kitty cat
is a lady.
How delicately
she creeps along the bed!
As if to beg my pardon,
she apprehensively proceeds
until, finding the spot she prefers,
she settles, softly purring, on my head.
Jan. 11, 2017
For Brenda Chiri-Carroll's "For the Love of Kittens" Poetry Contest
(This is true! She loves sitting on the pillow right near my head and she lightly swats at me in the morning to get up and get her food!!)
The Big Race
The 3200-meter runner started preparing for the “Big Race”
He stretched in his lane getting ready both phsycially and psychologically
He apprehensively took a stance, waiting for the starting gun
As the Ref said the words, “Ready, Set, Go.”
The gun explosively went off and so did the race
The Runners sped around the first curve like there was no tomorrow
He worked his way up and through the front of the pack
He accelerated, overtaking the pack, and stayed ahead
With only one lap left, he sprinted his hardest
He crossed the Finishline and WON that shiny
Gold Medal he had worked so hard for . . . . . . .
Travis “Ceijaeh” Klein
Life choices have left me struggling and alone,
Always searching for a place to call home.
Resentful of others who have what I don't
Under depression's spell, I was more like a drone,
Apprehensively surviving in my world unknown.
Losing my loved ones in various ways
Empty inside, just sleeping for days.
Exhausted by sadness, tears won't go away.
Hopelessly lost on this road filled with strife
Unwilling to listen or take anyone's advise
Reality comes back and slapped me twice
Selfishness can do things that aren't too nice.
Too many bad choices with a really high price.
Before I wondered what hurt felt like, the sensation of being alone,
Apprehensively snatching up the phone
At every chance, at every whisper, at every mention of your name,
Though now I realize, you never felt the same
My emotions have folded, glass tears in my eye,
As I remember our fantastic love and each and every lie
You told with ease, admitted so candid,
Though instead, my emotions so rancid
So harshly expressed in whole,
Though slowly they will begin to thaw and quite the same for my soul
Viciously, she draws a blade
of steely cold across my throat,
driving the warm breath from my lungs,
leaving me gasping on the road;
then, with a flip of frost glazed hair,
she whirls around the brick-walled turn.
Caught so in her freezing frenzy, I shudder,
apprehensively pulling my woolen comfort close,
knowing she is slinking even now
back round the block to pounce again,
prowling ice wolf, sharp fangs bared.
A bullying beast all day long,
she pushes nice people aside,
but in the morning we shall wake
to find her raging ceased;
she has gone and quietly left
a field of down about our feet.
Copyright, August 29, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Apprehensively,
Drifting into the fog.
Shivering, swaying, swinging,
Into the headwinds.
Monochromatic,
Dull diluted sunlight.
Straining, staggering, seeping,
Crossword puzzled meltdown.
Gasping for breath,
A poet coughs and sighs,
Spitting, slipping, surrendering,
A battle of knives and pens.
Monotonous,
Colors out of reach,
Droning, dragging, delirium,
Never ending horizons.
Calls for help,
Go unheard like bombs,
Unanswered, unexpressed, undone,
Until they explode.
Twenty lines behind us,
Jagged and sharp like stones,
Heaving, steaming, screaming
Away away, look out below.
A true partnership, we share the need
to roam, and to relieve ourselves.
He pulls me forward, in his scented
search for residue, he is also yearning.
We drift through his neighborhood, he
exposes me to his dreams, I follow.
I begin to see things from his point of
view, we share underlying curiosities.
And then she appears, apprehensively we
skirt around, until she disappears.
We turn around, and return to our lesser
world, to revisit and reflect anew.
I know how it feels old boy, the pull of
the leash, putting her just out of reach.
Quietly we make our way, footsteps
toward the creaking door, I love my dog.
Have you ever passed that door called potential?
Knowledgeable, but somehow unaware
Wrapped in a shroud of darkness of how?
Or who cares?
Floundering, or refusing to even try; or
Just ignorant and naive
Like a child, holding onto a blanket of anxiety
But, has that door now changed its colour?
Or its mood? Could it now be called;
Possibility?
But! Still being afraid
Perhaps behind that door
You have become aware
Of the quiet troubled
Thoughts of;
New beginnings, perhaps even success?
Or imagine a silver garden,
Waiting to be discovered
But! Do you still turn its handle
Apprehensively? Coughing with timidity
Is that door now; maybe? I could try!
Is there the sound of quiet, internal trumpets?
Waking, enticing
But! Does that door still, not give easily?
Does it creak and groan
Like a lost ship at sea
Come on now! Surely it’s time for you;
To push hard! To heave! And discover!
Go on, give it a try!
We have all hurriedly passed many doors – called
Potential, possibility and hey maybe!
And maybe we have failed
Perhaps, there is a door in front of you
Right now?
So, isn’t it time to just go ahead,
And turn the handle!
Related Poems