Best Angstday Poems
Am I mad?
Am I upset?
I dont know my emotions,
The day is gone,
The feeling passed by,
Like winds blow in my face,
And the tears fall,
Yet the sorrow is still there,
I feel numb to everything,
I feel hopeless; yet I try to pull away,
I feel so sad, all my friends ran away,
I feel good witting in poetry soup all day and everyday
Isn't weird when we need our love ones, friends, family to be there,
They look at you and walk away,
I look up to them to pull me up from the ground,
Yet I set there with deep pain,
And when you write poems here
You get some advise,
Isn't weird getting advise from random
People that you never met?
And your friends act like they don't care.
Why I always ask God?
Is it because God want's us to go,
To Him as a child?
The dishes pile up stained with the day to day of life
Her hands are chapped and dry withered from washing them
Dishes of food, dishes of mundanity
relentless dishes calling to be cleaned
Dishes prepared with love dishes for the family
dishes smashed in anger, broken in frustration
the dishes are her forte, she knows the dishes well
her hands are red and inflamed
sore from scrubbing at the remnants of her life
how many dishes has she washed anyway
how many hours of her life has she lost
Unseen she scurries and tidies
washing and drying, washing and dryng
swallowing her rage and her long lost dreams
The dishes are her forte, she knows the dishes well
the dirt, the leftovers, the many requests of her
washing and drying, washing and drying
but nobody cares to notice
Form:
YOU ARE ENTITLED TO ENTITLE THIS ONE YOURSELF
Whenever I stop to think of it
I don’t stop to think of it
I eliminate the crap, the slop and the rest of the s**t (phew, almost forgot the infantile *’s)
Did you ever think it ironic that if you take George Washington’s initials and sandwich an “I” in
the center of “G” & “W” well simply view the results
It might just be me, but I happen to think that parents, under no circumstances
Should be allowing the chances that their baby may mistake a live rattle snake for a rattle
Who is the bigger coward, propose I,
The man who wants to die and can’t
Or the man who wants to die and does?
So I’m talking to this recent immigrant from China who spoke fluent but broken English, so I
said “you know what Cum of Sum Yung Guy” I said that because that’s his name. in any
event, I said wow, some day in November I think we get a day off from work but I don’t recall
why.
Cum replied rapidly, “Because it’s ******** day”
Did you ever have a severe and urgent urge to take a lot of dynamite, stick it in your sibling’s
ear and light the fuse
But going to jail is a lost to lose
So I never did it
I often get this overwhelming feeling that I am a lizard clamped by the powerful beak of an
egret, as he tosses me from head to tail, as I pray for only one more breath of sweet Florida
air.
Actually I hate
This state
I hate Florida’s flora
And I hate it’s fauna
And I’m convinced, in mid-august, this is where Satan comes for a hellishly hot sauna ©
2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~ ok, all 3 of you can go to another poet’s page!
P.S. and I maintain, and I maintain strongly, that I believe to this very moment Jesus Christ of
Nazareth used grape Kool-Ade to change water into wine, I mean if he was the only begotten
son of God, a trick like that wouldn’t impress my mother’s aunt’s first cousin’s uncle’s twice
removed pet chimpanzee
DID YOU KNOW THAT REPEATINGS ONE’S STATEMENTS IS AN EARY SIGN OF ALZEIMER’S
DISEASE
DID YOU KNOW THAT REPEATING ONE’S STATEMENTS IS AN EARLY SIGN OF ALZEIMER’S
DISEASE
It's a round trip on a one way ride
with no rhyme or reason one day you die
It's a mystery why we're all here
every day we strive cause it's how you survive
There's no escape even with your suicide
Cause the undertakers coming on your one way ride
LET THEM CLAIM THE BLAME
I could blame it on befriending a bastardized crowd
The raucous, rambunctious, rowdy and the loud
I could invent and explain excuses exquisite in exactitude and fact
But they may all be ones I’d be forced one day to redact
I could recite by chapter and verse why I am what I am
And from where all my vices and errors may stem
I might, for instance, instantaneously infer
That all my problems are due to him or to her
I might find people foolish enough to trust in me
And buy into the falsehoods which I doth decree
Sympathy could be a response I’d like to receive
And it wouldst be wondrous if they’d all believe
I may swear by the universe the lies I might tell
And how I came to live in a living hell
However one day I’d have to defend myself with hurdles to vault
Because if the truth be known my dependence on dope is all my fault
© 2011.….free cee!
I read a poem on here this very early Friday morn,
Of dealing with bullies that have left them quite torn,
I have also dealt with this abuse on the internet too,
"You're fat, you have no skills, you're a nut and cuckoo."
"Your blogs are ugly, you will go nowhere in this life",
These bullies mean to hurt, harass and cause you strife,
But if you bend over to them and allow this type of pain,
They will just do it to another human being in their vain.
They simply are unhappy with their lives and no self esteem,
They enter your happy world and pierce your blood stream,
They will try to rob your happiness and all hobbies you love,
Keep this in mind, they will be judged one day from above.
Until that day happens my advice is the purest and very true,
File a legal peace warrant of space between the both of you,
They can not contact you legally or not bother you anywhere,
Your life will become peaceful dreamy instead of a nightmare.
I MAY TURN INTO A RACCOON SOON
Lately there’s been valuables thrown in the trash
Everything from expensive jewelry to cash
Too oft I must have to go dumpster diving to eat
And sometimes I find different candies from sour to sweet
The other day I found a coat that was ripped and torn
And last night’s menu was two day old pizza and corn
I seek anything that might keep me alive and sustain my breath
And yes, I’ll eat mostly anything but for that which may cause ,my death
I’m too cold in the winter and too hot in June
And if you think about it I’m a human raccoon
I scrounge around like an animal with a bad reputation
Oh, and there’s no boss to grant me a vacation
People keep throwing usable garbage into the trucks
And this susceptible circle we live on really sucks
I wake up in the morning to beg for yesterday’s bread
Instead I hear about another innocent who they found in a landfill dead
© 2011...Phreepoetree
and don't say no......i'll bet you if i had asked you to wrte me a poem about the beauty of a
mother with a nest of eggs,but make it as funny as you are capable of being...methinks you
may want to write for the wrong reason
A MANIAC FROM LIKE UPSIDE DOWN ON THE EARTH SHOULD HAVE WRITTEN THIS:This is the
meanest poem sandi ever read!
PROUD TO BE A FATHER TO FEATHERS
She picked that particular point on the porch
Where hung a philodendron by the flame of a Tiki torch
My wife and i never witnessed her arrival
But the bird knew now it was a matter of survival
The mama kept going to that plant and I wondered why
And when I saw her reason it made me saliently sigh
Within the potted plant she’d picked out with such care
Suddenly it turned into six tiny eggs in their mama’s little lair
I'd silently and quickly check on mama and her brood
Without a sound I’d make certain mama had enough food
It was thrilling to watch each day and to share a mother’s heart
Alas I knew one day the fledglings would, by instinct, depart
Well I checked every day and sometimes even at night
In the dark I would worry and check if the eggs were all right
i knew very soon they would hatch so i gathered each egg gently for safety’s sake
because i didn't want them to break before my wife could use them to make a most moist and
marvelous cake
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
WOULD EVERYBODY PLEASE WRITE TO LADY L. AND TELL HER TO SHAKE HER TAIL FEATHERS!
Thoughts and memories dance thru my mind
With the silloute of a lonely gypsy in the rain
I skip through the halls of forgetfulness
And waltz through the room of pain
As dream turns to day the smile leaves my face
And the stressfull art of decision opens reality squeeky
door
The remembrance previous night is erased
The simplicity in silence sets shadows on my soul
The little thing o find day to day
A motion in stillness a dry spot in the rain
Are often unnoticed by majority
Form:
HEY, IT WAS ONLY A SEIZURE, THE GUY LIVED DIDN’T HE?
I understand those people who say “this is a wonderful land”
“oh my, it’s simply gracious, graceful and grand”
Those are usually the ones whose house is their’s free and clear
They say, “happiness and wondrous things are offered to us right here”
I hear them when they talk about their new Caddy coup in forest green
A neighbor says, “Good luck guy, may it long remain pristine”
I see little Joey who will mature and soon leave his mom and dad
They say “Boy that little Joey’s certainly has grown into such a laudable lad”
“Note to self:” a man jots down in his new I-Phone, “Marge says “we need milk”
“Oh surely you know Marge, the one who looked so exquisite at the ball baring Taffeta and
silk”
While playing golf they speak only of the finest, biggest, and priciest for these men of leisure
As they ignore the poor fellow at hole six who’s having a mother f*****g seizure
“is that your cell-phone Mack, or yours Jack, oh, it could be mine?”
It is mine so wait for me at hole number nine”
All you have to do is look around and see the antithesis of a grand design
I’m a forty year old man whose a caddy with no caddy coup and life for me ain’t so f*****g
fine
I work for tips, run for busses and am a slave for a pittance
And to all this s**t--- s**t I’d like to say “good riddance”
They say “live each day as if it were your very last”
While each dawn I awake and pray this day be my last----- based upon my past
© 2011.….~free cee!~
TEARY EYES WERE NO DISGUISE
All her dreams were falsehoods and all her plans were lies
Her objective was to get that which she could get
Her crimson kisses were temptation in disguise
And I curse the day the both of us first met
‘twas on a Thursday afternoon I do believe
When she recognized my apparent need for love
For I must have worn my heart upon my sleeve
A sleeve which led to a worn out and bloody glove
My search had reached it’s apex on that Thursday
I thought that a lasting love had just arrived
But now I recall that afternoon as dull, grievous and gray
And when she left I’ll never know how I survived
I had my hopes and she had her agenda planned
And if I’d only known her objective was to use me
Each day since her departure happiness has been banned
And if I seem maudlin with teary eyes please, I beg you, excuse me
©2010.….free cee!
LET THEM CLAIM THE BLAME
I could blame it on befriending a bastardized crowd
The raucous, rambunctious, rowdy and the loud
I could invent and explain excuses exquisite in exactitude and fact
But they may all be ones I’d be forced one day to redact
I could recite by chapter and verse why I am what I am
And from where all my vices and errors may stem
I might, for instance, instantaneously infer
That all my problems are due to him or to her
I might find people foolish enough to trust in me
And buy into the falsehoods which I doth decree
Sympathy could be a response I’d like to receive
And it wouldst be wondrous if they’d all believe
I may swear by the universe the lies I might tell
And how I came to live in a living hell
However one day I’d have to defend myself with hurdles to vault
Because if the truth be known my addiction is only my fault
© 2011.….Phreepoetree
How could so many children
be so emotional and deadly
to say so many bad statements
and still be mentaly steady
barely be alive and
cross the line already
How could another
person look you in the eyes
smile and whisper
a long line of lies
people like this,
I wish I could despise
for my pain
you wouldn't want to memorise
I ask of you to tell me
whats your earliest memory,
mine is my seven year old life,
and nothing before
it was what made my life
broken and poor
for I remember every color
underneathe the light
from every eyes in the room
being on you
being arrested on sight.
For something that you didn't do
that was the day you became
the so called man you are today
you were mistaken for guilty
and thats what you became
instead of a theif
you became a lier by nature
my own father having lust for his
creation, so why do you hate me
oh daddy why did you rape me?
for The day I turned seven
everything changed,
you never acted near the same.
I don't remember who did it first
you or the neighbor boy,
which was worse,
him fourteen and you twenty-nine
me only seven
you both crossed the line
HE SWEARS HE IS THIRTWEEN
My worst enemy is a m*****r f*****g fool
He’d get killed in a one man duel
He’s thinks he’s coming but he’s really going
Yet he keeps the Jack with a beer back flowing
He wakes up at dawn and swears it’s the night
He knows wrong, but has no idea about right
He’s a subversive I’d like to submerse in the sea
He’s so ignorant he pays for things that are given away for free
This man’s I.Q. is equal to the temperature in his room
And he doesn’t recognize the difference between delight and doom
How this fool makes it from day to day I really can’t say
I only know that somehow he gets through each day
The man is ignorant and does the stupidest things I’ve ever seen
And from what I understand it’s been like that since he turned thirteen
The moron really doesn’t recognize the difference between a bull and a bee
Oh, and one more thing………….. that moron is me
© 2011.…. Phreepoetree~free cee!~
AND THERE’S NO PAY CHECK ON FRIDAY
I revel in close calls
And what I do takes balls
I’m comfortable hanging by a thread
While I eliminate the thought of my being dead
I swim through rough waters against the tide
And just keep repeating “Satan is on my side”
One must be aware of what turning a corner may bring
Because I look at life as if it is simply a fling
Each day is a joke and I am its punch line
And I don’t advise anyone to live a life like mine
It’s frightening and fearful and every day I fret
I worry about those I will meet and those I have met
I’m a man who lives with close calls and has balls
As I wander through haunted ,lengthy and eerily dark halls
It frightens me when I hear the sound of someone turning a knob
And that’s what makes being a junkie such a difficult job
© 2011.…Phreepoetree