Best Aggravating Poems
My mental health is complicated
Now euphoric, next sedated
Nightmares daily duplicated
All my friends are alienated
Happy times? They're confiscated
Mental health is complicated
My mental health is temperamental
One day strong, the next I tremble
Demon thoughts in turn assemble
Scars you see? Not accidental!
Happy/sad so incidental
Mental health is temperamental
My mental health is so unstable
Able battles with Unable
Joy is nothing but a fable
Traumas each a different label
Hide then dance up on the table
Mental health is so unstable
My mental health is oscillating
Praising now, then deprecating
Morbid days turn scintillating
Love now, hate now: aggravating
Soothing words are non-placating
Mental health is oscillating
My mental health is so confusing
Flattering and then accusing
Comforting when not abusing
All my sanity consuming
"End it now" my life pursuing
Mental health is so confusing
Unseen but ubiquitous,
Savage and surreal,
If not curated but contagious,
Annihilative and aerial,
Then lurking, now loose,
You are the silent stone sepulchre,
Tangling, tormenting; transient truce,
An asphyxiating, aggravating and apocalyptic aperture,
You might among countless thriving throng induce fear,
Cause bountiful bouts of darkness and despair,
You might perhaps possess lives of mankind in multitudes,
Cripple economies and ravage revenues.
Say, can you cease the blowing of wildly winds?
Say, can you banish a bridal blush or a child’s caprice?
Say, can you hold the hanker of a koel for its lilting lyrics, while it sings?
Say, can you shackle the Sun, or rob its rays with your bitter malice?
You are nothing but an atomic annihilator, a sombre spree,
In vain you strive to rule over our spirits free,
We would surmount all sufferings and decimate your derisive decree.
Saptarshi Mukherjee
TIME KEEPER
Early morning
Late p.m.
These could be thankful periods of silence
The world drowsy
Or still asleep
And my teeming head hopefully
emptied out
What marvelous devolvings might be refreshed
When one is in a nothing state
The clatter of dreams and strivings finally settled
on the kitchen floor
I would borrow absence from my cat
He sits on the window sill head on paws
serene aggravating!
Yes so apparently empty he I am sure
isn’t aware of the ticking
The tick tick ticking of my large kitchen
clock
To my sensitive awareness like hail stones
on a flat tin roof
Yes! really a clack clack horrible clacking
And my cat?
Hah!
What is time to him?
Zip!
Nada!
This wretched inflicting of time on the eternal
Dave Austin
I reminisce -
My entering sixteen
Though looked fourteen
Full of perplexities of adolescence
More of vigor and less of sense
Thighs bulging out of my half-trouser-veins
Unsuccessful in hiding my protruding pains
Voice creaking, face pimple-filling
Shyness, blush, and anger aggravating
Avoiding my dear and near ones
And even the company of my parents
Reacting to the elders and earning their swearing
Yet needing someone loving and caring
Getting attracted to you, a girl of my age,
Undergoing the same feelings in a feminine-rage
And smiling at you again, again and again
Fearing what’d be your response, even then
Though you seemed well reciprocating
Yet stern-looking as though staring
Never daring to come closer to you
Waiting… waiting… waiting… to see you
At last fear-filled, confusion-lit
Pressing into your palm a blunt paper-bit
My first ever love-letter, with pleasant pain
Running away gazing at you again and again
Later, hearing your cousin finding it in your skirt
Putting it into your cruel-looking dad’s shirt
Getting spiritually half-dead
Hiding for many days in my bed
Later when I met you again
Finding you as though filled with pain
When you left home to a boarding-school
When I found myself in an all-boys school
Often my asking your younger sister
Whenever I could ever find her:
‘How is she?
Remembering me?’
Then -
You as you
And
I as I
Parting ways, and finding each other -
Never…
I miss you.
Upon hours spent, little hope is lent
To a far more pleasing incandescent light
A hue of clockless space seen upon its face
Aggravating the light into a speckled fright
Futuristic visions, are merely illusions
Yet ne’er doth the lie cease to glisten
And many wait with a faith hard to trace
Lost in a teleported reverie of lasting confusion
Leave My Feet In Poetry Now Firmly Planted
I tried, compose a revelation poem about truth
Did that in earnest, in my wild but honest youth
But with mind fighting a stone wall nothing came forth
it was as if I fought as South against the North.
My brain had shifted into a deep murky haze
I was prisoner chained by a dark-cast craze
Each dawn I rose against a grey, terrible front
All my verses came out silly or rudely blunt
Aggravating, torturous to the nth degree
I gave it a go, took a vacation to flee
Not a damn clever thing I tried seemed to work
I ended up thinking am I fool and a jerk
Failed, threw my hands up and said, to hell with it
I cried out, had me a bad uncontrollable fit
I took a short vacation to a white sand beach
Seeking again, to my ran away muse to reach
As the ocean waves into my soul did soft splash
I ran around shopping spending loads of green-cash
Soon I forgot about all by having good fun
Rose each new dawn saluting the rising gold sun
Eight days, my time was spent exploring deeper life
Soon gone was any shred of hardship or dire strife
That morn, I rose seeing sun's sweeter golden rays
I discovered a much truer life in newer ways
That very night I sat down with pen in my hand
Out like magic beautiful words about this land
And then in another poem sweet love of true youth
Verses and verses slung about love and bold truth
Then it hit me thus, my angel muse had return
No more trashy stale words would I have to now burn
My muse told me she left to a hard lesson teach
She came back not because of words I did beseech
She came back when I had forgotten to her so love
So she left me to deal with dark world's push and shove.
That cool night, I wrote a superb poem on true love.
And if I were writing hand, muse is my dear glove.
Swearing never again, to my muse take for granted
I leave feet in poetry, now firmly planted.
Robert J. Lindley, Rhyme
Last edited by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot; Today at 10:14 AM.
You needn't fret nor worry bout me, you go on and finish your lunch
I surely understand that you can not see and it's more than a hunch
I'm simply going about my own way that which is His Way of course
But you needn't discern what I say for not even He would ever force
The life guards all just sitting there, knowing truly how far you are
But they will all say we don't care, even though you are really far
As you drift things change slowly to where you won't even notice
But the life guards easily see, for the danger they just can't miss
Why are you so offended by the Savior Who Put you here on Earth
All of us need to be mended a process started 9 months before birth
But the only Hope that He gave us, the great Gift of Eternal Salvation
Who wouldn't be raising a fuss but instead to you it's all aggravation
Just go back to where you were as I just knock the dust off my feet
And even though we don't concur I would never hold you in deceit
Besides someone else will come along, aggravating just as such
For by His Love in You so strong, He is always going to try to touch
Some days
are bright and sunny,
While others
pour the rain.
Some days
are just confusing,
And strain
a tired brain.
Some days
are overwhelming,
While others
bore the dead.
Some days
are aggravating,
And make
you wish for bed.
Some days
are made for working,
With others
meant to rest.
But the day
that I awaken,
Is by far
the very best.
written by,
Sheri L. Evans
February 5, 2003
THIS MAN CALLED JESUS - 2
Hey, Caiaphas! What do you think of this Man called Jesus
Well, now that you mention it, I think it's time that He died
Perhaps we can devise a plot to have Him crucified
Let's talk to Pontius Pilate and see what he has to say
I'll bet he will help us get rid of this aggravating Man
But we must devise a real solid foolproof plan
How about some false witnesses to tell a few lies
Yes, that just might do it, so round up a few
We can bribe them easily – they'll know what to do
That sounds good enough to rid us of Him
And one of His friends, Judas is his name
Will betray Him for silver and take all the blame
Why didn't we think to do this sooner
I had thought of it, but I feared it wouldn't go well
But I can't see any reason why this plan should fail
So the plot was formed and soon carried out
He was crucified, dead and buried, but arose after three days
Ascended into Heaven, to come again and judge mankind’s ways
Have you given any thought concerning eternal life
You've been given a choice – what will your choice be
It's either Heaven or hell for eternity
What do you think of this Man called Jesus
Will you accept Him as Lord and serve Him alone
Or die in your sins before all hope is gone
Curtis Moorman
19 January 2013
Come on people let's take a bite.
Then be the apple of an eye.
When it updates ,world so screwed.
How an Apple rules the world.
I had a bite one day it came.
An Apple tablet in my hands.
It made me rich and famous.
It left my pocket so abused.
Over a train or in a cab,
You see someone keeps in touch.
Busy roads and dizzy mind,
When will I buy the latest one.
It is somehow aggravating,
To live each day in so much pain.
I trade my old car just to have you,
Then by tomorrow it's no longer new.
iPhone ,iPod ,iPad ,Mac and watch.
Each day I need to work so hard.
To take a bite and have it all.
Then left so gorgeous in empty room.
Aiyah De Torres
28 May 2015
We are the tintinnabulating trolls
To the rock rock bottom of our nonexistent souls.
Madder than the maddest hatter,
Hear us bellow, bray, and bleat;
And we prattle pitter-patter
In our jabberwocky chatter
To a bumbulating beat.
See us zim zam zoom
As we're going bim bam boom
In an onomatopoeia that so rhythmically rolls.
We're the trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls.
We're the truly tintinnabulating trolls.
We are the tintinnabulating trolls
With our xenophobic hearts lit like black burning coals.
Hate and anger are our teachers
So we squabble, squeal, and squirm.
We are misbegotten creatures—
With the ugliest of features—
Lower than the lowest worm.
In these premises
We're unrivaled nemeses;
And we burrow furrow mindless like some misanthropic moles.
We're the trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls.
We're the truly tintinnabulating trolls.
We are the tintinnabulating trolls
From compassion and goodness we're at opposite poles—
So devoid of any scruples.
On stupidity we feed.
As our villainy quadruples
We're the most attentive pupils
To insatiable greed.
See us bash bing bang.
Hear us clatter clash cling clang
As we crash upon the shallows of malevolented shoals.
We're the trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls.
We're the truly tintinnabulating trolls.
We're the trolls trolls trolls,
The incorrigible trolls.
We're the trolls trolls trolls.
We're the horrigible trolls.
We're the irritating, aggravating, fascinating trolls.
We're the wrangulating, jangulating, strangulating trolls.
We're the trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls.
We're the truly tintinnabulating trolls.
– Harley White
[From my version of “East of the Sun and West of the Moon”]
So what's your status,
Nimbostratus?
Are you here to stay, like old Aunt Gladys?
- To rain and rain until we're glad it's
Not for you to own the day,
But eventually must fade away
Before the steady strugglings of the sun
Which must break through once they've begun
To tear apart your greyish gloom
And give the sunlight proper room
To push along those friendly, fluffy clouds
Through blue skies where you're not allowed.
So go thy way, ignoble cloud!
Carry off that misty shroud
Below which you have so confined us,
And let us put thy wet behind us
And revel in the newborn sun,
It's warmth welcome to everyone.
You overstay your station here
Far beyond what would appear
A decent spate of soft rainfall;
Your prescence doth begin to pall
When you hover close from day to day.
All caught beneath wish you away,
And confer on you non-gratis status,
O aggravating nimbostratus!
(autobiographical)
I was barely eight before mother died
When Gerald was happy and not as reduced
When he was the loved son
The child with a loving home.
From aunt to aunt I learned to live
Out of the anger of dad
Out of the voice that brought fear.
Into the hand of pestilence-
My second life began-
A life of maltreatment,
A life of struggle
Elder brother disowned when he revolted
The treatment harsh and inhuman - so he bolted.
I joined the struggle
The life of scuffle
Wherein I was the marked
The recalcitrant and ragged
The delinquent in school
The tortured child of the family's few
Who outlived the deads of two aunts
Beseeched to care for him.
I am half mad, they tell me
I know I am a psychic
Half crazed child
A ricochet of mum’s death-
I have been alienated
Disillusioned by life, ill-fated
Tortured by a disturbed mind.
Dad on my heels
Listening to propaganda
murder-bent at my heels
flogged flogged flogged till I go for pills.
Fled my home to the street
Ate from the bin
Lived with street kids
One of the flocks
One of the hard rocks.
I have been in the cold
No bosom have rocked with me
Save mum’s who lies in the clay.
I am spiritually dead
Physically out of mind, they say.
From pastor to pastor
From prayers to prayers
From recessions to intercessions,
Through starvation for correction
I remain unchanged.
I am finished, they say.
Nothing can help me
save God on whom I weep and call.
My relatives
Alienate me
making me atychiphobic
Aggravating my anthropophobia
building in me gelotophobia
and all those anthropological phobias
A loved child has no right to know.
It bringing me pain for they are nailing me shut.
I pity myself - Pity me father
Pity me, brother
Because I have tried
Tried to be loved
Tried to be the best from limps
But I am not up to those dreams.
I know that many dislike me
Feel uneasy when Gerald is around:
Instead of helping me
They become indifferent, violent.
I told Louisa last week as she fumed at methat
anything I lay my hands on
fails to work again.
It either gets bad or broken.
My own things end up craggy
No matter the patience and prudence I put in.
Why then am I born?
Why the fear
Why the alienation?
I pray that I be left alone
Donot curse me again, donot.
Accept my fate and let me be
Else you help in killing me.
If I were an animal it would be a horse, Man 'O War to be exact.
I could then answer the question that the whole world wants to know,
"Who was the fastest, Man O War or Secretariat"?
Being a human only gives me the ability to research and know
that the movie Sea Biscuit. while entertaining, was not authentic.
Movie makers claim Sea Biscuit was small when he took on
War Admiral in the match race of the century (and won)!
The truth is they were both the same size!
The aggravating part is the movie depicted Sea Biscuit
as being inferior to War Admiral and stated the Biscuit did not have good
bloodlines. That's a bummer, considering Sea Biscuit was Man O Wars grandson
and War Admiral was his son!
I suppose you could say, "Well it's just a movie"! When actually these two horses
are our history. Both gave our country hope in a time when America was in the
Great Depression. Just as Secretariat,( who was on the cover of every leading
sports magazine) and the only honest thing in the country, who gave us "hope",
during the scandals of Watergate and the Vietnam War.
When Secretariat won the Belmont by 31 lengths giving him the 1973 Triple Crown,
it was almost supernatural as if the Lord whispered in his ear , "GO" and he went.
Secretariat will be remembered as one of our nations greatest horses because like
Man O War and Sea Biscuit they gave us "hope" and isn't that what life's all
about?
****
Contest: If I were an animal what would I be
Submitted by: Judy Konos
People say its puppy love that we are showing.
I think its fully grown and keeps on growing.
I love her so much it hurts to be apart.
In the mornings when I see her, that's when my day starts.
We may be young, but we know what were talking about.
She is the one I'll always be with, there is no doubt.
It does upset me when she hangs out with her friends.
That's time together we didn't spend.
I'm not jealous, its just my interests I protect.
People know this so they give me respect.
Its Saturday night and I'm home alone.
Its getting aggravating she isn't answering her phone.
It kills me not to know what she's doing.
I know her guy friend likes her and is pursuing.
Finally she walks in, with this smiling grin.
Do you know what time it is, where have you been?
She apologizes, but knows this is only the beginning.
She doesn't argue anymore, she has no chance at winning.
Soon these words turn into physical abuse.
After it, they make up and call it a truce.
He always says, baby I'm sorry I just easily scare.
I just want to show you how much I care.
She always accepts him back and turns the page.
Now they're in love again, its called the honeymoon stage.
She is no longer his girl friend, she is now his prisoner of love.
Now she is in a vicious cycle she can't get out of.
Here is a rule, one hit is one too many.
If its true love, then there would never be any.