Best Discontent Poems

Autumn chilly days will soon be over,
There will be no bees over the clover.
The last vermillion leaves some red some gold
The breeze blows and my heart is much too cold.

I walk aimlessly in an unknown path,
My heart is like a sea with ugly waves.
How dare...

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Happily discontent, that I am, that I be

now  future
happy   discontent
achievable  out of reach
joie de vivre  bags of regrets
what I am now  what I could be
love the journey  are we there yet?
live in the present  dream of becoming
I'm...

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when the sky breathes poetry
through sepia-streaked silence,
and the earth reclines, listening
to the music of weeping wisterias~
blowing in the pulse of bleeding paradise,
I swallow sizzling stars
within cloaked scars,
comfortably blanketed
in self-woven wounds.
while you, the prisoner of my past,
keep revisiting empty journals,
lacking crystalline colors of comfort.
as crimson are...

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He took away his touch
and at first I felt relieved 
I bowed down to god 
for taking that selfish 
bastard away from me 

But after a while 
I grew sad 
It's weird to say
but his touch
caused happiness 
now that it's gone
I'm forced to search
for more...

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WEATHERING THE WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT

 In this, the death prone winter of our discontent,
the world lay languishing from mitotic chaos
and malignant uncertainty---spreading a pandemic
cancer of destruction over the body of our moral humanity.

Infected rebirth cells of ancient crusade history
scatter world wide---blown like dry leaves
in...

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When I have finished with this body
And hopefully ascend the heavenly stair,
I'm going to go into Heaven's workshop
And have a word with the management there.

I've not been too happy with their merchandise.
I feel I didn't receive of their best.
Perhaps I got one of the rejects.
Well...

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There is no peace in a war zone
The battlefield's become my home
Casualty is mind and body
Assaulted by my worst enemy
Maybe tonight it'll let me sleep

I can't decide
I don't know why
It's hard letting go of superficial things
Put off by yesterday's reason to be happy
Nothing ever seems...

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fall’s foliage wingless
man too longs for a southland -
future mist defined

Brian Johnston
December 19, 2015...

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The gelid wind is a knife, ice to bone
As Demeter decries Persephone's moan
I too shed a tear, crystalline nature
In the pallid winter of my discontent.

Downy flakes fly in my woods, this glacier
melts slowly, apart from everyone ashore
I die a little more each day I bore
Holes,...

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There's a westerly wind that sweeps down the shore
Riding roughshod, through the furrowed maze
Plowing the seas with a lofty oar
To justify each thrashing wave

Unwilling to pulse with calmer mood
Her temperament bodes malcontent
Unrelentingly, earnest, she herds her brood
And prods them along with grave torment

Rendering helpless, behind...

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The world's on fire and the news is despair
Stench of the apocalypse fills the air
Racial tensions, border disputes and cultural crusade
Immigration, separation, seems 'tis a bed we remade
Demonstrate into conflagrate, identity theft makes the rounds
And social media allows opinions without grounds

Shooting up each other, our...

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The quite ebony night blew its warm teasing breath---
taunting my wet shining sable skin with a faint coolness.
The paused crescent moon struggled with opaque-like clouds
to dispense sojourning light as it trekked across the sky
towards the self fulfillment of its circadian journey.

All around---within the tree cribbed...

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Where did you come from my precious sprite?
You live as if there is no tomorrow.
And still somehow you are bluntly interrupted.
You may come inside and warm yourself for a bit.

Maybe we should act upon nothing at all.
Welcome to my world, please stay a while.
Warm your...

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my sister turned light chartreuse

after hearing on the news

the end is quite near

a blizzard all year

so we recommend snowshoes.
...

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Since I was a small child and would try to sing,
when we rise and sing the praises of "Old Glory,"
it brings tears to my eyes. Maybe it's because we
have endured much to keep our flag flying--too
many wars, too many injured, too many dead.
Or, perhaps, in...

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