Best Brittleness Poems
I’ve tasted betrayal before just like I have tasted lies
but each time it’s so bitter, the taste always a surprise.
I cannot expel this sickness you left to rot in my soul
the brittleness of your lies that made you lose control.
So I am left no resolution and more unanswered questions,
you told me it would be an hour when I’d only had seconds.
You came in as an infection and you’re leaving a disease
once proud I stood and yet you brought me to my knees
your taking me down and you’re dragging me low.
Why take my hand if you only plan to just let go?
Categories:
brittleness, angst, life, lost love,
Form:
Couplet
The heart sheds its own tears
Sorrowed by life’s unfairness
As the hazy mist clears
Anguish carries stark bareness
Brokenness, deep despair
Hope hanging slim by a thread
Loneliness, hard to bear
Happy face masks are soon shed
The heart has its own fears
Borrowed from life’s fickleness
Pain that gently appears
Testament to brittleness
Wretchedness, feeling lost
How long this wait for true love?
Dreariness dressed in frost
Life goes on without a shove.
06.05.2021
Categories:
brittleness, blue, fear, heart,
Form:
Rhyme
The clamor heard
In the urgently raucous awakening of Spring
Slowly dies down
During the lethargic sibilance of Summer,
But quickly revives
With the crunchy tanginess of Fall,
Only to be subdued again
By the crackling brittleness of Winter.
Categories:
brittleness, seasons,
Form:
Free verse
(Verse)
Brittleness, in body and in mind.
Defenseless it seems, but you'll find
A springiness in here, unexpected.
A strength in crippled body, unabated.
(Chorus)
Believe in this:
I'll say again
Don't ever miss
My frisky brain.
I bungee jump,
Fall low and then
- After a bump -
Come up again.
(Verse)
When I am in a hospital next time
Remember this, my little rhyme
About resilience, strength inside
Mental illness I have, and pride.
(Chorus)
Believe in this:
I'll say again
Don't ever miss
My frisky brain.
I bungee jump,
Fall low and then
- After a bump -
Come up again.
(Bridge)
And always always
Recognize
What in this song
I advertize:
(Chorus)
Believe in this:
I'll say again
Don't ever miss
My frisky brain.
I bungee jump,
Fall low and then
- After a bump -
Come up again.
(Verse)
My wheels will take me anywhere
My spirit follows with great care
To you it may sound bittersweet
Brittle perhaps, but undefeated.
(Chorus)
Believe in this:
I'll say again
Don't ever miss
My frisky brain.
I bungee jump,
Fall low and then
- After a bump -
Come up again.
***
February 1, 2017
Categories:
brittleness, dark, depression, light, mental
Form:
Lyric
And a pair of those little feet were stepping
Cheerfully, treading each period which was carrying her somewhere nowhere
A fragmented laughter echoed from all angles hailed her name
For she is the apple of her father's eyes...
She grew with everything
As if born with beautiful wings, which not only adorned her body
But abled to carry her flew away to heaven that was made for her...
For she was the angel of her mother's heart....
Petite figure stood on a naivete ...
The dream world slowly manipulates, toying her, risking her
A trust betrayed finally ...
And that scourge became the first stain of her life ...
Those little feet have now taken their big steps
A girl has grown into a lady
By rising from the rubble of brittleness
Let the kisses of the past remain there and dwell
For the broken wings of her last
For the fear and frighten which had past
For the big steps of her sane
For the pain and stain which finally end for her gain
Categories:
brittleness, angel, life,
Form:
Free verse
Stepping out from the burrow
Scratching the hidden persuasion
The soul which has long groaned in solitude
Will it be re-confined to the misery?
One who awakens by the brittleness of elegy
Eroded by the existence of sinless soul
For a moment it became oblivious to time
For a moment it elapsed in whispers
Struggled within the beauty of madness
This soul seems like lost in its way
Drown in the scenes of life
Asleep in the dungeon of resignation
Helpless...
In the starless night
The soul summoned on a journey of trust
Riding on the wings of my bare thoughts
And flown to the sky of my poetic side
Longing for my discreet passion
The immortal torch ignite
Caressing the tail of my frozen muse
Melt the nectars of the ripe words
Which now, sated
Categories:
brittleness, imagination, inspirational, missing,
Form:
Free verse
Oh, if I could quickly bare witness to God's perfect hand in life renew.
Oh, if I now could bare witness to his wondrous seasonal debut.
Oh if spring would come and release my body from the frigid fingers of winter.
The touch of it is not tender.
Let not my stiff joints bark and weep no more.
I called to God and said, Holy Father I am miserable to the core.
I am spent with the deathly view of winter.
Oh, if I could bare witness again the wide white blooms of magnolia, the bursting bulbs of the cherry blossom, and all their splendor.
With God's loving healing grace and the sight of them, I will gladly surrender.
I am in despair of this shivering brumal blast.
My heart grows anxious for the unsympathetic brittleness of winter to pass.
Oh, let my wanting eyes settle on the flowing James River.
Let the array of hungry geese do thither.
Oh, if I could dance on fields of tulips and daffodils.
Oh, if my fever mind could make the spring season to appear at will.
I would walk barefooted on the cool green grass that is freed from the rich Virginia soil.
I would let the cool spring breeze wrap around my body like it was plastic foil.
I would sit on my porch and wait for the return of the cardinal to come back and retrieve his wooden bungalow on the thick crooked limb of the old oak tree.
I would be comforted by the sight of him and his songs of love to a great degree.
I would bathe my aged body in the sunshine.
I would sing of God's glorious divine.
The circadian rhythms of my brain set aflame memories of a past affair.
They were hot and steamy memories of hot and steamy moments that I would not openly declare.
If only spring were here it would satiate my soul.
It would obliterate this disabling toll.
January 27, 2023
inspired by the musical composition of Summer of 42, composed by Michel Legrand and Andr'e Hossein.
Categories:
brittleness, spring,
Form:
Rhyme
I the one who took a shelter in your brittleness
Who was hiding behind your tears
The covert strength which overwhelm your weakness
I am the sunbeam reversed to your darkness
Your tears are my wounds
The clatter of your journey is an obvious scratches
Which frequently seize my heart
And these feels are yours, even yet you touch though you see
I try to open the casement of my heart and trace it
Is there anyone or whom?
Is it you, the biggest question?
Or maybe you are the answer
Everything revolve, encircle between the conscience and thoughts
I tried to pull my self out, withdrew all the feels that I've got
Yet the trails of yours continuously compel my limits
The silhouettes of your times mesmerize my days
I trapped within the charm of your soul
However these barriers are no longer be sustainable
I will run after you
I no longer be an idle beneath the dark side of you
I'm finished with the dawn and I will be the day
I quit play as the role of a shadow
For I am the tangible, I am real...
As real as the embrace of twilight which always there for you
*****************************************************************
11th place
old romantic poems........
Sponsored by: SKAT- AB SIN THE-
Categories:
brittleness, girlfriend-boyfriend, passion, romance,
Form:
Prose Poetry
mornings are a mother’s mirror,
merciless in clarity
and hideous in reflection;
as I pass doors, now closed.
the patter of feet
resounding in nothing but echo;
the sun highlighting a calendar
casting shadows on beginnings,
while leaving endings, hanging
in terminal silence.
my bosom heaves, for it is dry;
arms aching
with the weight of emptiness;
hindsight tossing laughter,
cracking
the brittleness of solitude;
and memory is the pain borne
carried unwillingly
and then interred
far too deeply within…
Categories:
brittleness, family, introspection, life
Form:
Free verse
I take the world's pain.
Reflexively
Unconsciously
With such great facility
The globe's own personal Giver
Autologous torment on the other hand
Hides in a maze of inaccessibility.
It is hazy, out of focus
Like a distant memory of a past dream
Oh, but external pain
Beckons with a frequency only I am attuned to
It is palpable
Cuts me with sharpness
It draws me like a magnet to the north
I soak it in through every pore
When my body is too full
I stack it on my shoulders
Hunched under the weight
My feet move slowly and deliberately
Don't fall. Don't drop it.
I stay on 2 feet
Yet buildings crumble around me
And within me
Agony bullets ping pong off my organs
Leaving visceral holes,
On ramps for poison to seep into my blood stream
There must be a cure
A way to shield and deflect
And to purge my bones of the venom
But without the weighted blanket of torment
My own bones would be exposed
I couldn't stand the sight of their brittleness
So I continue to cushion them with quilts of despondency.
At least they have something to lean on.
Categories:
brittleness, feelings, pain,
Form:
Free verse
You can twist the way a man sees the world.
Do you think that sounds ridiculous?
What if you did it over time with subtlety and diligence?
The audience is largely uneducated, so remind them of their impotence; tell them any other source of facts must be regarded with suspiciousness.
Whisper to them over breakfast and slowly introduce corrosive dissonance; outright lie to them at dinner,salting in some truth for spicy antithesis.
Those who run the country are up to something mischievous; their lives, their fine America, have been eroding with precipitance.
Remember empowered yesterdays with a sad and tearful wistfulness; twist the needs and rights of others with pernicious lies and maliciousness.
Invest their government with conspiracy and its policies with wickedness. Remind your audience that freedom was torn from kings by well-armed militias.
Introduce the savior as a shining instrument of religiousness; defend his faults as small and frivolous and his right to rule as unambiguous.
When shocking reality dares assert itself, denials must be vicious and officious.
A rescue mission must be launched and certainly they must be participants; banners from the gift shop will form a team identity and a certain moral equivalence.
The leader will whip the angry crowd, stoking resentment with fabricated incidents, swearing, “I will be with you on this great crusade and you will be my instruments”
As the mob storms off he will slink away; he was only there for stimulus.
Hear the old republic creak as the President flexes his insolence; he’s seen that no blame can touch him, so he’s filled with proud ambivalence.
What will it take to rein him in? What kind of obvious stimulant, with thousands already dying every day and our society marbled with brittleness?
Categories:
brittleness, 11th grade, anger, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Murderous Sprees...
sinister Population Control, Sans Cosmic Creator?
Maybe,... I shudder to think
up the sleeve and ornate cufflink
of divine maker, a deliberate pitch
to foist *****sapien on brink
viz self destruction,
asper bedlam upon Earth that doth stink
a hellish conspiracy linkedin with tragedy
namely sinister predestined plan to shrink
terrestrial realm usurped by ink
king a pact of devilish destruction, demolition
denunciation, et cetera doth stoke
unslakable thirst of bloody drink
sucked out the flesh o' every body electric
as zombies and vampires quench
fifty plus shades of deep pink
drain liquid of life courtesy of chosen thugs
incognito golem aliens to kill and sink
civilization, until every person extinct
cold comfort (from this Yankee of mortal fate
lifelong resident of Keystone state),
one day extraterrestrials, (whom might
inhabit planet teeming with billions)
will excavate and then curate
a sorry lot of creatures, where bullets did eliminate
an arrogant, haughty, narcissistic...peoples
(a handful of exceptions to the contrary),
whose various tribes never adapted to integrate
sundry superficial differences among themselves
instead chose to allow, enable and provide
(Putin shill) collusion did willingly corroborate
with dopplegangers i.e. "FAKE" guardians
whose real not so impossible mission
to feign friendship, at heart..a pie rate
but sole outlook to eradicate
coercive, self immersive,
passive, et cetera species
and blithely earn blind trust, unwittingly mutate
into their likeness only to trump
pet gentlemen's agreement brittleness did break
as "FAKE" and devastate
democratic and constitutional compact
(utilizing bribery to swindle elite schools
so crazy rich parents could manipulate
levers of prestigious academia) to satiate
egos bragging about brilliant offspring
only to undermine the complex edifice
spoiling promising futures via golden gate
bridge of studious grads,
who exercised sweat o' their pate.
Categories:
brittleness, america, anger, discrimination, education,
Form:
Political Verse
I feel it in the air- the winds of change.
Short days are darker, and cold nights are long.
Unlike that phase of spring that did arrange
for skipping in the meadows with a song.
The winds of change- I feel are in the air.
With summer gone, I yearn for its delights;
those nimble days- enjoying everywhere
the spring rebirth, matured by summer rites.
For sure, those winds of change took over fall;
each vibrant tree sheds leaves in layers deep.
Dried limbs and brittle trunks answer the call
from winter- with their feebleness must sleep.
And, as the winds of change are here for me-
I share my brittleness with winter's tree.
November 19, 2020
~3rd Place~
Contest: Winds Of Change
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Judged: 11/28/2020
Categories:
brittleness, life, metaphor, seasons,
Form:
Sonnet
Can you read the jagged story in my eyes
The scars and burns on my hands
It speaks of eons drowning below the depth's of one's misery
To be against the Abon tides
People built their personal kingdoms to rise above
To stand upon an ancient dynasty
All I ever needed was to feed my link integral
So I may not be a sacrifice to the storm of life
Will you be my sanctum
Temples of Aphrodite stream across the ways of solicitude
Can you be the arc that transcends my Venus icon
The vertical depths above Gia
Imprisoned by the stars of Strata
Erase the Neolithic forlorn
Erase the suffering with an embrace
I do not want to gaze out into the brine
To be thrown into the cage of feral minds
Are you the heritage of the quintessence
A myth, a legend, a acme
The celestial who can divine the brittleness
Categories:
brittleness, fantasy, longing, love,
Form:
Free verse
Snow laying casual on tree-branch fingers
suddenly startled, falls to the ground,
beaten to its refuge by a bullet wearing blood.
A small disturbance we call hunting.
Our youth in eagerness spreading
to cover in life what we cannot touch in death.
Surrendering moments we do not bleed
to spread like slow molasses
over brittleness of bone;
melting snow, evaporating rain,
growing less eager to conquer,
moving to a place of understanding,
borrowed from a time we do not own.
Now, a missing moment of time arrives
and you are here to greet it.
Categories:
brittleness, care, death, environment, life,
Form:
Free verse