Best Burden Poems


Premium Member Grandpa

Grandpa

a kind face
 
skin leathery and creased from years of working in the sun
 
long jowls like a basset hounds
 
sad droplet eyes
 
always a slight aroma of beer
 
brown wrinkled callous palms
 
dirt-stained fingernails were evidence of an old man’s toil
 
a blue plaid shirt now ashen from wear 

a tall man
 
always unshaven with scrapes of gray hair that would scratch you un-mercifully if he asked for a hug
 
he walked with shoulders hung and bowed over as if broken
 
that of a man who had known the burdens of inequality all his life

the kindness in his eyes reflected a graceful acceptance of his fate
 
his tears masked a rage and unforgiveness for the destiny of his children
 
late afternoons he would sit out yonder under a huge black gum tree
 
a blackened wood briar pipe a pack of red man chewing tobacco and a can of snuff beside him
 
one jaw always popped out as the tobacco had to sit just long enough before it was time to spit
 
he would sit in that shaded spot for hours on end
 
up till sunset most days
 
always staring intently at something out there
 
was it memories from his past
 
or perhaps the dreams of a past that someone stole
 
eventually, grandma would call out to him
 
Henry where you be?
 
he would always reply
 
after awhile
 
I’m just there…
 
I never understood what that meant before
 
Until now

Burden of Guilt

Suffocating,
In the depths of sorrow,
Beneath a flood of doubts.
Gasping,
Unable to surface,
I frantically search 
For what weighs me down;
I feel nothing,
But the burden of guilt 
That fills my soul,
And then I realize
The anchor is me.

©Ana Espinola Collins

Premium Member Beast of Burden -POTW

Trumpeting sounds of elephants
Pleasant rides, tricks, and children’s chants
In a place called Thailandia
The tourists come from Sandia
They visit their uncles and aunts
Ride the bulls, play, touch, watch them paint
Unaware of treatment, restraint 
A few people saw the dark side
The brutal industry must hide
       You are led into tours quite quaint            
Taken away from her mother,
Trained to toil for another 
Enslaved as a beast of burden
Sweet baby calf called Lily Len
White as milk, she’s like no other
Len’s father a combat hero
And although she would never know
He, equipped with iron armor 
Knee pads, and sounds of drums of war
Strongest was he, true warrior 
In colorful costume adorned
For royals to ride she was born
Her spine aches, he is too much weight
Len resigned to this awful fate
Between two worlds she is now torn
Crying for a hopeful sign
Recalls Airvata the divine
He, the legend water child
Len prays to him so beguiled 
And in her sleep their souls align
Airvata reaches down with his trunk
To the underworld she’d been sunk
Sucked up and sprays her in a cloud
Awakened she feels safe and proud
Happily sprayed with muddy gunk
Separated at birth, now three
Len is saved, taken to Nuwee
A lovely rainforest in Lanark
Near a river, Phant’s Nature Park 
Where she washes, where she roams free
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.


Winter Burden

Heavy clumps of white fall
from the grey sky
landing on wooden limbs,
weighing them down
like dark skeletons
bent under the burden
of generations of sorrow

The Burden Man

With internal devices I fight,

Battling my demons of the night.

Inside I am cold, empty, and alone,

Frightening faces, a burdening tone.

The blood of nights passed,

How long must they last?

Screaming shadows cast through the room,

Summoning the sense of utter doom.

The plague of the darkness,

It lasts with death's kiss,

A suffocating silence,

The vibration of defiance,

Echos in deaf ears,

Calling upon foreboding fears.

Churning guilt, a face of it's own,

Haunted whispers chilling the bone.

The Burden Man sits and plans your demise,

He consumes you slowly; feeding on lies.

He never sleeps; neither do you,

The paranoia becomes too much and you're through,

You're being eaten alive, from the inside out,

You can't breath, nor can you shout.

The Burden Man wins; he always will.

Your presence, it haunts, it lingers still.

The Burden man whispers his ominous dictum:

"I am not your friend. I am your victim."

The Burden

The burden
Of lonliness,
A difficult,
Weight to bear.
Has broken,
The wills
Of many.
Who were brave,
Enough to dare.
Carry such 
A freight,
Knowing they
Could not share.
On a journey,
Into their 
Own emptiness,
To find out
If anything's
Even there.
The years 
Shall pass
And you'll,
Want to break,
But you've,
Grow stronger
After each
Passing day.
And with this,
Stength aquired.
Understanding why,
The burden,
Was required.
To finally
Knowing,
How to be,
Alone, 
Alone,
Alone.
© Yoshi Mato  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member The Burden of Being


All day the wind
has tormented the trees,
causing branches to whip
and bend. There is an anger
let loose, loud in its haste
to rip and destroy 
what is vulnerable.

Spider webs woven last night
are torn, flowers are plucked
of petals and the wind chime
has been strangled
by its own chord, choked 
of its sound. But nothing
is intended.

It is I who have interpreted 
the scene and set language
the task to frame nature
in human terms, give
the mechanics of a clock
the power to decide the tick
of its own time.

All is mindless motion,
unfolding to laws deaf
to the pleas of mercy, revenge
or want. Even the cry
of a hungry child dissipates
in the distances of space.
It is us who bear the burden,

weighted with a sense
of right and wrong, bound
by compassion, torn by
doubt and despair, we, born
into the tumult of evolution,
are endowed with the gift 
to transcend our station 
through love, dissolving
into the infinite.

Heavy Burden

Life is a heavy burden
          but I feel it lighter
          walking beside you

A Beast and a Burden

To broaden my horizon, I begin to concentrate.
My mind entered into analysis paralysis state.
I knew that life was not such.
Therefore, why am I the anxious one?

A load of cargo I will become.
This is because I am the beast and the burden.

Striving to achieve, I thrived in thought.
As a political activist, I needed higher marks.	
Therefore, I entered college.
I aspired to attain a Master of Science in Criminology.
However, my path was deterred.
A manifestation had occurred.
Negated is life.

Lade is the world.
This is because I am the beast and the burden.

Tomorrow has come.
Culprits has formed.
Weighed down by their crimes.
Yesterday has no more lives.

Laden is the universe.
Rhapsody raptures as the beast and as the burden.
________________________________________________|
Written August 06, 2015!

Premium Member Love, Responsibility, Burden and Loyalty

love is the spell your under
when you give your heart and mind
it sometimes last a little while
and for some it last a life time

responsabilities to care for
obligations to pay for
always fighting just like war
take away the joys

burdens have been carried for years and years
sleepless night because of our fears
it's inescapable when things are shared
the unforgiven things you did

loyalty that lasted fifty years
the trust that grew when things were through
the reason to wake and live another day
the oneness of mind that comes with age

Premium Member No Longer a Burden

It is said that letting go
can be the hardest thing

The part-time lovers,
corrupted friends,
pastime lovers and 
incomplete bondings
holding final piece until the end

But I
embrace gratitude

For I have come to terms
that some will never come to terms

Their self dignity become suicidal tendency
grasping the breath of me
drowning in river Styx;
abundant dependency

Green coated envy
with lashes of solidarity;
tasting entrapment
as their new found hobby

As they let go
by digging trenches to nowhere

Mud slinging recollected teardrops
dripping invalidated errors

And I
should cry
these burdens

I should cry

I should

But these tears
know better

© Drake J. Eszes

Buoyancy Burden

While I was searching a book to read in my old school
Today maybe changed somehow modernized,
There were lot of rooms,
With many of the destitute instant of books.
Anyway, however, I was swerved..
This is my own school why should I hesitate…
The swot ..like swingle …
You’re my SCHOOL.. Swivelled on you
Who could have changed you like this…?
Distorted…
I am completely distracted..
At least the basement may be kept..
I went on to search into, the basement
My goodness, my school, everything distorted…
.. recasted ..
My sweet heaven you distorted, I am distracted..
I want to see the smile of the portia’s yellow flower..
Where is the doorway? And door steps of margosa?
The premises, the sun kissing ground..
All for me unseen world?

There is suddenly landslide:
Divination , there is my teacher pulling me out, digging
The landslide that covered me, the teacher with a mammoty
I identified first teacher ever remembering.
Now the light, my teacher…!
Pursuit smile ..national uniform in white,
How sweet he is…

Premium Member Beast Of Burden

Gusty winds start
  Willows under siege depart
A bird and a rabbit wallows
  Under the trees on burrows...

The bird said to the rabbit, "Why do you keep on digging?"
The rabbit replied, "To keep myself warm and safe."

The bird asked again, "Don't you have a home?"
"This is my home." said the rabbit.

"Don't you have a family?"  asked the bird.
"All my family members were devoured by beasts.  I was the only one who survived.  You shouldn't be playing around here, you might eat me too!"

The bird said, "I may look like a beast because of my size. Yes... I am a falcon, but I'm not like the others of my own kind."

"Why are you talking to me?" asked the rabbit.

"For you to know that not all beasts are bad."


(Prosebite)

Beast of Burden

to pull the load through,
the lashing whip compels me,
not enthusiasm..!

Premium Member The Burden of Perfection

Common wisdom states no one must take
Or receive more than can carry
Without pause or delay, a sin to tarry
For under that stay, avarice can overtake
Yet, I have carried more than my weight
Even against advice, even contrary
I forgot the limits, forgot to be wary
Forgot the honor of my namesake

Where falls your footsteps when you stumble
Which choice you choose at divergent trails
What foresight is lost when you fumble
When the burden of perfection fails
In the strength of weakness, Samson is humble
Permit the meeker grace of mortals prevails.

4/13/18

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