Best Distressing Poems
The staticky-stars climax under intense blanket of Winter glow.
Your spouse can’t see your spirited green eyes that burn slow.
The friction of campfire sticks, the satiny slipperiness of moon.
Flames of blue, orange and red won’t be overcome too soon.
Pert rose petals, that once were goosebumpy and ice cold,
scintillate like fireworks until the grand finale’s loosed, uncontrolled.
Warm breath in a cold Winter’s steamy and a restless beast.
Lips lavish over late night feast, matches singe, sate increased.
Squirming under the leisurely complement of coals, coalescing,
Coolness of a blue lake vaingloriously countering, distressing.
A long midnight’s thrashing, sans pillory; the high beams foray.
Pillow talk, a sensuous squeeze, a high-diving elixir bouquet.
Ah those stars brilliantly glowing on a long Winter’s night!
Those limbs blush, rose petals crush, with unfettered light.
Can't stop flashbacks
Can't stop vibrations
Vibrations like echoes
Vibrations irritating wounds
Wounds that bleed
Wounds that torment
Torment the mind
Torment emotions
Emotions of guilt
Emotions full of anger
Anger from the past
Anger from shame
Shame that's distressing
Shame that's intrusive
Intrusive images haunt
Intrusive like storms
Storms striking like lightning
Storms louder than thunder
Thunder that's frightening
Thunder causing self-destruction
Self-destruction of the heart
Self-destruction of the mind
Mind acts recklessly
Mind reacts resentful
Resentful with regret
Resentful outbursts
Outbursts misunderstood
Outbursts they generalised
Generalised anxiety
Generalised questions
Questions of sanity
Questions of ability
Ability to stand
Ability to walk
Walk in fear
Walk through a hellish reality
Reality discarded
Reality unseen
Unseen persecution
Unseen war
War with life
War with time
Time is too intense
Time to surrender
Surrender to uncontrollable stuttering
Surrender to my misleading heart
Heart palpitations
Heart is numb flatline
Flatline
Palpitations...
No matter how distressing
Everything comes with a blessing
A bitter divorce
seems wrenching, of course
Yet through its crucible of fire
you can emerge inspired
Both legs blown off in the war
What's left to live for --
See what you have that remains
your whole upper body
and all of your brain
The death of a child so painful to bear
For the longest time you just sit and stare
No easy 'answers' to comfort you
but perhaps there's this ~
You're still here for a reason, that's not to be missed
she was a beautiful and rare wildflower
peaceful and delicate
but with vibrant untamed hues
she had a blaze
that no one could grasp or contain
so she confined her truth in solitude
she often felt lost and consumed
by the bleak shattered illusion
of the world around her
it was too distressing a place
to settle her sensitive stem
it would smother her oxygen
and sift her energy into
depths of darkness
when her heart flooded
with loneliness and fear
she would lock her walls
fold her life
and paint her windows black
the beauty
anchored deep within her heart
would begin to fade
when she could no longer
find the path
back to her source of strength
she would sit in hush
waiting for any like one
to come
to water
no one ever did
when the pain became unbearable
she descended into madness
no longer questioning,
no longer reasoning
but content to
not be
until
there was no more
she sat in silent playgrounds
listening to children laughing
she enjoyed the indulgence
of a soft encounter with hope
she watched as the
final crumpled leaf
hung from its tree
dangling alone
waiting for the last hale
of winters icy sigh
she was the swimmer who intently
dove into oceans of sand
her heart weighed heavy
with exhaustion
burdened by the
ceaseless meaningless,
struggle of life
to which she
could not understand
she felt resigned
that life existed
and when over,
one could walk gently away
with no hesitation
or need to stay
but she was that rare wildflower
she had danced to the whims of the wind
and had weathered its torrential storms
the fire within her refused to relent
and she found resilience
to rise back into the light
each breath became a privilege
she returned as moments in gratitude
her journey became her solace
and it was there she found her truth
she was reminded that
emptiness in life floats into butter-colored warmth
because it needs to heal
sadness in life is the addiction
of re-living anything
that ever made one's heart soar
perfection in life bows in gratitude
to complete imperfection
and imperfection in life
is the essence
of hope
at birth
rising
JUSTIFICATION
Oh, what a distressing frustrating situation,
I’ve suddenly lost all my poetic imagination,
Nothing tickles me pink, no stimulation,
I want to create a poem of deep inspiration,
Which will meet everyone’s expectation,
But my thoughts are edging towards nullification,
I want to scream out loud, a slow dilapidation,
I’m reaching an uncomfortable exasperation,
My muse, has succumbed to misinformation,
Intimidation, and deviant calculation,
Goodness gracious,
Heard word she wants my poetic elimination.
Someone is knocking at my door, to my jubilation,
There stands a muse, I welcome with elation,
She is well known for helping those
Experiencing mortification,
Such a refreshing sight, she must after
Careful deliberation,
Give one month’s notification,
Looking forward to her presence,
Such a welcome application,
She will help me with my recuperation.
Behold, a rhyme is forming, what scintillation,
Delivering both articulation and jollification,
My previous muse jumped from poet to poet,
Everyone realized, fickle her motivation,
But my new muse and I realized justification,
We Popped a bottle of champagne in celebration.
(The news of the death of dear and near ones reaching us on a daily basis has left me thinking of the transitoriness of life and hence this poem)
Is not our life a wave of energy coursing through ether
Just like flickering flames or fleeting gleams that fly
Which when stopped, like a weed scorched by the sun
Or a tree felled down by a merciless axe, we will die
Is not our life a theatrical performance,
Where we don the roles we are assigned
Some, playing the roles of tyrants or kings
While some act as meek minions consigned
Is not our life a voyage through rough seas
Where we paddle on and on over billowing tide
Never asking where we are heading to
Nor knowing through what currents we ride
Is not our life the footprints left on sandy shores
Washed away instantly by the incoming wave
Not able to measure their length or width
Or be traced as they immediately cave
Is not our life as illusory as the mirage of the desert
Staying beyond our grasp and endlessly deluding
Soothing like an oasis among the dunes of sand
Sometimes like a nightmare awfully distressing
Is not our life a little space lying somewhere
Between our infant cradle and our grave
Where we have struggled to secure our slot
But soon ousted by others who for our place crave
Still we live on, never in despair but in hope
That beyond this mortal life and its tangled ties
Somewhere for us, eternity’s mighty portals await
To harbor our souls when from deep slumber we rise!
I toss the coin anxiously
For both sides perturb and dazzle me…
The first side, well, it is a beauty to say the least
It is clear, crisp, like fresh pages of a favorite book
Peace offers a stronghold in its rhythmic and quiet composure
It is unassuming in all that it is…it is truth, with open arms
Like droplets of rain against my neck,
It is refreshing to caress its cooling pages,
Best of all, it heals when I choose to feel it and live it…
This side is strong, and often shames my desire for the other…
The other side, I gaze upon it often, its presence so shocking
I often doubt it even exists as much as I sense in my life
Then I remember that it surrounds me,
A universe of glow aching to crawl into my night
Wishing to embrace me, so it may reveal its secrets to me
I am drawn to its perplexity, its grand design…
Its fiery resilience silences my prayers to puddles of pleasure
It is a hard-heated side becrossing all sides… stopping all resistance…
I toss the coin high, mindful of its landing,
Though as it does it spins furiously upon my heart and mind,
Caught in the blurry winds of dissonance and rivalry
How distressing it is to see them collide together in all that they are…
For I want them both to win…I want them both desperately
But only one side will dominate in the end
And only I know who will win,
As I set this silent war of hypocrisy
Free…
Free into the stars, where that unknown wisdom will be revealed in future days
I had to set it free…
For there are still other sides we must struggle to let go of
Touched by so many hands before us…
We must choose the side to say goodbye to
As we fight to focus our fleeting attention
Upon the one and only side that will touch the face of Providence
-For Justin Bordner's "What is Your Hypocrisy?" Contest -
When I am gone, and from this world have flown,
I would admonish you to not forget
That I have loved and cherished you, my own,
And even after death shall love you yet.
But I’ve no wish to burden you with pain—
Not for one month, one day, one second’s time—
Insisting you remember would be vain,
And causing you such grief, a selfish crime.
While memory can help one to endure,
Distressing recollection can be worse;
Remembering, in some, effects a cure--
In others it’s essentially a curse.
Thus knowing this, my love, I won’t resent
Forgetting me, so long as you’re content.
October 2, 2019
Please note: though the second line includes what appears to be that old grammatical bugbear, a split infinitive, I could argue that the word "not" is not a modifier, but part of a compound verb "to not forget", ie. to remember; also, its position makes it not only a stressed syllable but also much more emphatic.
I ask God to help me
When I can’t seem to pray
The sorrows are all around me
I just don’t know what to say
I ask God to show me
When I can’t find the way
Darkness compels me
To seek out the light of day
I ask God to guide me
When I’m lonely and afraid
Fear is like a monster
To discourage and dissuade
I ask God to relieve me
When I’m feeling so much pain
Heartaches are distressing
There seems to be nothing but rain
I ask God to accept me
When I’m unworthy of His mercy
Forgiveness is my yearning
Worries bring so much controversy
I ask God to protect me
When I’m restless and uneasy
Troubled by the darkest dread
Repulsed so I’m feeling queasy
I ask God to never leave me
When I’m not sure what to expect
Discouragement is all around
Reminding my heart of its defect
I ask God to always love me
When I feel so unlovable, so forlorn
Like I can’t make it here
In a world where I cry and mourn
I ask God to answer my prayers
When I need grace to survive
The tests of life, the darkest times
So that I can live and thrive
I ask God to always abide
When I can’t see the light
Shadows of despair surround me
Raining down like the dark night
I ask God to fill me
When I need love so alive
That I will always give away
Love that will delight, revive
I ask God for His Son
When I knew He was the only One
Who could truly make a way
To hear the words, “Well done!”
July 30, 2022
I walked the garden path holding all the intimate hands,
nurtured in the impermanent world the hope of durability
of me loved and belonged, and me owning and retaining.
Times changed, didn’t know why storm of dismay surged.
The garden got ravaged, the trodden flowers tarnished,
I now walk a lonely walk in the garden turned wasteland.
The crushed thoughts rise from debris in the void mind,
blankness drags dreams down to the edge of extinction.
With the submerging spent sun in my melancholic sky,
the twilight colors of my listless life slowly sink to oblivion,
night waits for my moon at the fringe of the hazy horizon
to ascend across the insurmountable span of the onyx rift.
The wisps of disappearing cloud tinged with fading hues
weave for me the fading tapestry of the departing day.
Behind the shroud of the nocturnal gloom my stars hide
beyond the edge of the immeasurable distressing gulf.
The dust of despair drizzles in darkened supine skyline
from the descending night enveloping the ebony future.
My mangled mind can’t recover the dwindled dreams,
lost in the unfathomable depth of the agonizing abyss.
In my splintered mind at the edge of hope I search,
discover the inner light showing the reality of reason
God has given me to subsist in this life so beautiful,
there’s no cause greater, no motive better than to live.
My fragile footprints fade in the threshold of ashen dusk,
as in lengthening shadow of obscurity I walk the last mile,
hoping to feel God’s grace in the rays of the new sunrise,
I stand too close to the edge of the unbridgeable chasm.
Life and death
Life
Beautiful, Joyous
Changing, challenging, fulfilling
Amazing experiences, until the enemy comes
Depressing, distressing, ending
Sorrowful, finality
Death
John Derek Hamilton
October 20,2016
Not only the one who sulks does barely nothing,
he also bums out the rest of his acquaintances,
diminishing their cheerfulness and good will,
strewing this distressing mentality among other folks,
getting their minds infected with his contagious stress
It's all but inherent in humans to mope now and then,
yet there are fellows who do so too frequently;
they contaminate other minds with their behavior,
Thus they're giving rise to more mopers and so on;
Let's not be mopers so that life smiles at us and we at her.
It is a fallacy to imagine
I could know your pain
The depth of loss for one we love
And who's loved us
Could never be transposed.
But I do understand...
Your loss is very great
And very distressing
I offer all the sympathy..
Empathy...support...
I can summon.
I'm hear to give...
Comfort and companionship
Through these terrible, difficult days...
My thoughts and prayers are with you
As are my time and attendance
You are never alone.
Copyright 2016 Iger Rolyat All Rights Reserved
They say there is a rose garden that blooms inside us now and again.
I remember how your breath was so sweet I wanted to swallow it
Whole – gobbling up your gasping wind – to drown my screaming
Passion, ignited by your soft molasses coated tongue, with the scent of rose
Blossoming inside me, where my blood rushed your love home – yes!
Later I thought how strange it was, that it could last for so long, with me,
Still breathing after you had left – for three days – I was exhaling your fumes!
But, that memory was not distressing, no! Mildly hallucinogenic; it was swirling
There in my blood, like the alcohol that washes away your scent – sometimes –
Life is like searching a beer garden for a bottle of aphrodisiac potion you’ve lost.
What’s more troubling is that all the other flowers continue to bloom.
A man so afflicted
Must divert distressing thoughts
And not combat with them
To attempt otherwise is madness
To have the compliance of the mind
Is a great profound art
It may be attained in considerable degrees
Let him take a cause of solidarity
And not fixate on the exclusion of normality
Let him reprimand his mind for it's indignation
Let him contrive
To have as many retreats
For his infinity of littleness
That militates against aspirations