Best Dispirited Poems


Premium Member Winter Blues - I Cry For Color

I shiver tears.
My joie de vivre;
summer esprit’s lemon zest,
lilac flirts and coral whispers 
have escaped me ~
grievous gray 
now flows through my veins.

I shiver melancholia, 
entombed with my winter blues
in the dark dreamless hollow 
of my frowning igloo.
Draped in decor of dispirited drear
I wear a wistful woebegone fog,
an overcoat of overcast moods.
I weep wall to wall
in the listless light-less nights 
alone with my lonely longings—
my psyche withers
like a frost-stunned leaf;
I shrivel 
a little more each dull day.

I shiver sadness. 
My colorless tears 
cry out loud for color!
I yearn for watermelon sunsets
pink sands and tiki cocktails swirled 
with swizzle stick glee. 
I wish for rainbows to color 
my lackluster laughter
and crave for fireworks to celebrate 
in my mirthless eyes—
restless for Sol’s warm hands 
to tenderly undress and caress me
and lay bare my soul 
straitjacketed by winter blues.
Categories: dispirited, depression, loneliness, longing, sad,
Form: Free verse

Notes of Life

"In my fragile little ship, I sail, sail
In the tempestuous sea of life
Dodging life's pressures, to doldrums outlast"~ by poet

Breathing in and out the notes of life, 
from first cry to last sigh, you sing
you sing.... unbeknownst
unbeknownst to you as to
what tunes and notes of life
you will be singing.. 

but you keep singing... taking cues
taking cues from the
rhythm of the twirl of time. 

As you warble to the ticking of time
sometimes... 
a melody is created 
and the moment becomes lovely -
when your hum is harmonious to
the rhythm, tempo, and dynamics of life. 

Listening to that melody - so sweet, 
buds of love and peace bloom straightaway
in vibrant colours
to savour and celebrate 
the beautiful moment:
a moment as beautiful 
as the sweet smile of a child
and as peaceful as the 
stillness of a meditation hall. 

At times, your voice cracks 
you sing outside the range
hitting the wrong note... 

and.........oh........ 
you slip down the stairs
the last step extending down to
the hassles and hard times of life... 

like a banana peel
in an already slippery road, 
like a dust in the eye
that blurs your vision, 
like that of a Wordle game
that leaves you totally clueless. 

Such wrong notes
in your song of life
leave you in dismay

like a torn page in a book:

you get dejected, dispirited, and disheartened

and a confused state of mind follows. 

But you know you should not stop
you need to ignore the wrong note you struck

not a wince, blink or a pause.. 

you have to just move

on and on... 

and get your mojo back
to continue carolling
the rest of your notes of life
in accordance to the 
rhythm of time...

Date: 02/24/2022
'F' form - Free verse - New - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Theme Chosen: Life
First Place

Poem Of The Day on 02/24/2022
Categories: dispirited, life,
Form: Free verse

Sometimes

Agendas in modern schedules,
drive us to our personal goals,
and we rarely look to the wayside,
where lies unfortunate souls,
whose dreams are lying in tatters,
dispirited with broken wings.
At these times showing respect, 
can lead to such wonderful things.

But sometimes we can’t see ahead,
because we’re secure in our feeling.
Sometimes security crumbles,  
and no one is there for the healing.

And so on the pathway to glory,
where rainbows guarantee gold,
think as you pocket your riches,
about a friend who is left in the cold.
Remember when in your struggle,
where the upward climb grew its thorns,
and remember who pulled you through,
with their wisdom in your early dawns.

Sometimes the comfort zone sprawl,
can lead to a lapse of the past,
that sometimes becomes the lesson,
required for a courteous cast.
For the scale of life has a balance,
that rises and falls with our greed.
Sometimes we may not be the needy,
and sometimes it’s us who may need.

But sometimes we can’t see ahead,
because we’re secure in our feeling.
Sometimes security crumbles,  
and no one is there for the healing.
Categories: dispirited, emotions,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Fragility of Dreams

In fragility of dreams,
winds weep with weeping willows.
Fate mimics a melancholic melody -
pain only piano keys can portray.

Each note tempts this tired mind,
to move in slow motion -
a dispirited dance for a misunderstood heart,
mourning the surreal silence of her absence.  

Sanity deceives like twilight,
clementine embers scorch the sky.
As shadows create silhouettes -
darkness does not reveal my star.

Breathing alone at the beloved's bridge,
reminiscing brown eyes and secret smiles,
echoes of her voice tingle -
lonesome soul shivers.

Here I remain,
an unfinished painting -
aching for her palette.

Sunday Simple Musings
Silent One
17 May 2020
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: dispirited, absence, loss,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Ode to a Dove

Blight the clouds lowly dispirited feigns,
Despite these regards there belies the shrouds,
In height uncovers the misplaced reclaims,
Ignite, blameless drives of a dove in clouds.

In measured distance or that of life's span,
Of treasured reflections as fawning dawns,
A feathered friend that needs a shepherd's hand,
Unfettered airiness descends chiffons.

An aloof crowned hall grows ever grandeur,
Shall allude facts of dire circumstances,
Can assume, beasts of burden, not dirt-poor,
Ample proof, a slanted roof, mischances.

Grounds, telltale's a flap, wingless warrior,
Sounds, fled coos, eyes unreachable love,
Downs of feathers white o'er once courier,
Pounds the ceaseless cease ... flights anew born dove.
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: dispirited, appreciation, bird, death, heaven,
Form: Lento

Despair

He despaired. He was despondent and desperate.
He was impelled to violent action but restrained from acting out.
He had finally given up. He had lost all hope.
Disheartened and dispirited his will had collapsed.
Lacking confidence or courage, depression defined him. 
He languished in gloom and grieved in lament.
He succumbed to a wretched tribulation,
a miserable melancholy, so forlorn was his ordeal.
He anguished over his prospects, so painful was his worry.
Desperate and wholly dejected the criminal faced his judgment.
As justice was served he fretted, ruminated, chafed, sulked and moped.
Now he faced the torment and ridicule he so easily delivered.
Finally he too understood the meaning of despair.
© Ed Coet  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: dispirited, angst, depression, satire,
Form: Narrative


If You Could Still Make Wishes, I'D Help Them Come True

this chilled ground
cannot carry 
the weight 
of these tears
falling 
from the edges
of downcast eyes
they simply trail
down the slopes
of hills
like cheeks

puddles of sorrow
in cupped hands
hold the warmth
of these wishes
i bring forth

i feel the pierce
of life's thorns
as i place these roses
upon your grave
knowing 
they too will die

i listen
beneath the boreal breath
this autumn air brings
for just a whisper
of your voice
as i sing
happy birthday
to you

all i hear
is silence
as i kneel
beside you
touching 
this stone
wishing
for one 
touch back

i lift my shadow
with myself
as i walk away
dispirited
mourning
you again




(today is my father's heavenly birthday, time never erases the distance)
Categories: dispirited, birthday, dad, death, grave,
Form: Free verse

Dimash Song Lyric Translations

These are my English translations of songs sung by Dimash Kudaibergen.

This is my translation of one of my favorite Dimash Kudaibergen songs, the French song "S.O.S." ...

S.O.S.
by Michel Berger
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Why do I live, why do I die?
Why do I laugh, why do I cry?

Voicing the S.O.S.
of an earthling in distress ...

I have never felt at home on the ground.

I'd rather be a bird;
this skin feels weird.

I'd like to see the world turned upside down.

It ever was more beautiful
seen from up above,
seen from up above.

I've always confused life with cartoons,
wishing to transform.

I feel something that draws me,
that draws me,
that draws me
UP!

In the great lotto of the universe
I didn't draw the right numbers.
I feel unwell in my own skin,
I don't want to be a machine
eating, working, sleeping.

Why do I live, why do I die?
Why do I laugh, why do I cry?

I feel I'm catching waves from another world.
I've never had both feet on the ground.
This skin feels weird.
I'd like to see the world turned upside down.
I'd rather be a bird.

Sleep, child, sleep ...



"Late Autumn" aka "Autumn Strong"
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
based on the version sung by Dimash Kudaibergen

Autumn ...

The feeling of late autumn ...

It feels like golden leaves falling
to those who are parting ...

A glass of wine
has stirred
so many emotions swirling in my mind ...

Such sad farewells ...

With the season's falling leaves,
so many sad farewells.

To see you so dispirited pains me more than I can say.

Holding your hands so tightly to my heart ...

... Remembering ...

I implore you to remember our unspoken vows ...

I dare bear this bitterness,
but not to see you broken-hearted!

All contentment vanishes like leaves in an autumn wind.

Meeting or parting, that's not up to me.
We can blame the wind for our destiny.

I do not fear my own despair
but your sorrow haunts me.

No one will know of our desolation. 

Keywords: Dimash, song, lyric, translation, lullaby, SOS, S.O.S., autumn, strong, fall, earth, earthling, bird, world, distress, cartoon, cartoons, sleep
Categories: dispirited, autumn, bird, earth, Lullaby,
Form: Free verse

Sullivan Meenie and My Squid Wife Laura

My Sullivano photographed bad 
                                 He was a simian  ghost so sad
                                         He was dispirited
                                    Now he posed for an ad
                               " Uncle Sully goes to nuptial bed"


                               Meenie stands erect in the mews
                             This morning she has heard a news
                                      Sully has gone to hell
                                      To collect a bombshell
                              Safe for a ghost? she has to muse


                   My pet ghost Sullivan was quite beyond the pale
                    He smoked my tobacco pipe and sipped my ale
                                   He danced before my wife
                                  Who was a squid in real life
                 She Kicked his butt and he started chasing her tail


                    Sully kissed Meenie on the spur of the moment
                     She was nursing her ass a cute boil to foment
                                      Love really ached
                                 The cute boil was baked
                Meenie screeched like a ***** Sully made no comment




                                   Cubism or  impressionism
                             Wife Laura looked through her prism
                                       She saw the open sea
                                       Made her eternal plea
                                 God give me back my squidism




Sullivan/Sully/ Sullivano= my pet ghost
Meenie= my female tabby  cat
Laura= my wife a squid
Categories: dispirited, fun, , cute,
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Hieroglyphs of the Gods

If I stare at the blank page long enough
Words will appear,
Words written in black ink, not mollified.
The words will grow together
Like grass forming a sod.

Then, as if on cue,
Spoons dance,
And horseshoes have wings.
A very short story would be the prime motive,
A murder of crows, perhaps.
And perhaps not.

Sometimes, the mud crawls together like glue.
It seals the burial of the crows.
It speaks in a slow language.
To interpret the hieroglyphs of the gods
Would be worthy.

The phone rings:
It is Kathmandu, dispirited. 
Out of Montana a horn blows,
And the mountains sing.
The magpies are summoned to a conference
They will divide the spoils.
Their calls resound
On the north face of a mountain.
© Bill Yates  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: dispirited, fantasy,
Form: Free verse

I the Phoenix

I The Phoenix 

I recall in my youth how the world around me seemed so alive vibrant in color and beauty. As I aged this beauty faded and was replaced with a new world filled with shades of grey. Life rushed by me quickly, I was no longer able to see the beauty around me. The longer I lived in this new world the more my spirit faded.

One day this new world came crashing down around me and I was left alone, abandoned in the streets. Overcome with fear and loathing I wandered aimlessly among the dispirited and walking dead. I survived on the pity and sustenance portioned out to the lost souls.

I found myself pondering my youth as I walked the streets and wondered where that world had gone. My eyes saw things along the sidewalk that inspired my imagination, I kept these as mementos of life lost. These tidbits of refuse I examined and again found vibrant color and beauty. I began to piece these small tokens together and slowly recreated my youthful vision.

Casting aside my thoughts of returning to the life that had drained away my spirit. I became whole again, I now dwell again in those vibrant colors and an abundance of happiness as were in my youth. Society will not number me among it's herded numbers of spiritless victims.
 

Authors Note:
 3 years of homelessness and destitution opened my eyes and reignited my spirit. If you feel you have lost your way, cast off everything and start anew.
© RC Arts  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: dispirited, adventure, appreciation, beautiful, moving
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Premium Member Home Remedy

Banished to the front porch
brother, sister and I lay, 
dispirited, on quilt pallets,

with knees drawn up 
to meet our chins,

spewing forth to the ground
the meager contents
of our aching stomachs.

Mom called it "Summer Complaint."
She took her third arm,
the garden hoe, into the woods.

The roots, scrubbed and boiled,
imparted a brew so bitter

we choked and sputtered
but drank, at her command,
with faces skewed, lips puckered.

Not the worst of Mother’s
home remedies brewed
in her country kitchen,
but close.
© Cona Adams  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: dispirited, health, mother,
Form: Narrative

Hopeless Marriage- Unrequited Love

As I roamed into the steakhouse,
I spotted him slashing steak.
He looked up with his dispirited stare,
His despair coherent to me.
He summon me to take a chair,
He had a anecdote to unfold, 
About the day his spouse left,
The day love revolved to abyss.
He delivered her the works he had,
His body, soul and heart,
Her addiction got the best of him,
She backslid; he fell discrete.
Off she went on a spree, appear like,
A daze of narcotics and booze–
When he faced up to her, she said,
"Fine," and ran off–just think
Of the agony it caused this man,
His eyes folded into his face,
Tears so actuate, harsh and brutal
They are salting him in place.
Yet he turns up at the steakhouse,
Forlornness not his thing,
Through those depressed eyes I can declare
He’s longing for happiness, although
Dealing with the tragedy of losing
A woman once very delightful,
A woman now astray in her sadness,
His sorrow under her feet.
Categories: dispirited, anger, conflict, divorce, for
Form: Ballad

One Wish Granted

~~~
Entranced through castle window
arms outstretched ...
but resting on its frame
The only sound that falls to ear
from a pendulum's rhythmic swing
~
A gentle flame
sends ghostly shadows
that dance to silent notes
Entwined in scents from fireside
inlaid with cherry smoke
~
They said she would appear this night
as all the stars align
I drank their potion
said the chant
Still dispirited
counting time
~
The hour's close
near darkest night
a looking glass beside me
hand crafted by the little folk
ornate with sprigs of ivy
~
Enchanted ... yes ... they cannot lie
my wish they guarantee
Their word's been kept
since dawning time
One minute more ...
we'll see
~
A deafening thunder breaks the still
as lightning strikes the spires
From gentle breeze
to baleful gale
dare never
to think them liars
~
The ancient mirror begins to glow
as the clock counts off the trials
My heart explodes
beneath my chest
with the force of a billion smiles
~
" Take my hand ...
while the clock still strikes "
your voice pleads ... from inside
To my surprise
I reach within
with both arms open wide
~
Your loving touch
and I'm pulled through time
to your kiss
oh ... sweet embrace
A whirling swirling rainbow ride
as the tears roll down my face
~
" To the end of time ... I beg of you
Never leave these loving arms "
"Ohh...
but there's one more task
you must fulfil
if you wish to win my charms "
~
With sprawling thud ... I hit the grass
spinning senses in a daze
A newborn sunlight
warms my face
sparkling air
helps lift the haze
~
Such marvels
cast 
this wondrous world
a voice sings with a smile
~
... " You must catch me " ...
rings your taunting laugh
from a glade
nearly half a mile
~~~
July 23, 2000
© Rex Mccoy  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: dispirited, fairy, fantasy, loneliness,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Race Management

Slavery
enslavement
force of self-imposed ownership 
overpowering another's ego-ownership,
anthro-morbid,
collective ego-morphic tolerance of identity rape,
fear and anger, together building hate,
from which enslavement derives;
a culturally camouflaged nondual co-arising relationship
of codependent despair,
self-hatred.

Enslaving force perpetuates Ego's full-blown angry reduction
in self-identity,
deduction of self,
as someone who could "own" another's Ego-healthy will
for equivalent freedom from my freedom 
to enslave another's life,
exterior and interior.

Slave and poverty development owners 
internally enslaved by our own hypocritical hubris,
swimming upstream into economically encrusted perpetuation
of cognitive and affective dissonance,
chronic anxious homelessness,
hopelessness that I cannot afford to be more co-empathic, 
healthier on my own,
than we are together
on Earth's owner-ship.

Those nations,
corporations,
families,
individuals
addicted to retaining 
and further developing 
vastly disproportionate wealth deposits,
divorced from our own cooperative health and well-being investments,
not only steal from those without enough to thrive,
but also slink away from our own collective mental health,
anxiously fearing freedom's inevitable reparations,
struggling to repress awareness of nondual codependent enslavement
into entropic death of species.

Hatred combines anger about past with fear of future.
"Anger Management" politics might choose a more transparent therapeutic label,
"Hatred Co-Arising Suppression".

Decomposing hatred first breathes through "I am Anger,"
listening for Time's healing simmer,
then decomposing anger about past violations
to embrace rational fears of deadly toxins
enslaving equitable prospects for a healthy future.

It feels healthy to remember we are Anger
with ourselves
and with each other 
before,
without sustaining against ourselves or others,
perpetuating enslaving hatred
for mental health stolen from those without sufficient wealth 
to thrive
to feed 
our own unhealthy enslaving greed.

Dispirited slavery imposes greedy unnatural ownership, 
dreadful wealthy lust for power
co-arising with holistic health's decreasing power,
globally and personally,
without as within.

Very bad karma,
total lack of grace,
not our way to Win-Win race.
Categories: dispirited, health, identity, power, psychological,
Form: Political Verse
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