Best Drudging Poems


Premium Member Powerful Togetherness

Written: December 11, 2023
              ____________________________________________

While drudging impresses to cease,
        Within the ethereal forbearance of night
        And the cosmic vast space is stormless,
        From the hour of darkness until daylight,
        And anxiousness is ultimately formless
Imbrication is referred to as "Peace."

Imbroglio, languor, and hidden disarray
       This parade of nimble cued is wordless
       This will never genuinely be worthless,
       This is increasing beyond nerveless
       This spinning wheel is reverseless,
The periphery of the panacea display.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: drudging, analogy, bereavement, identity, symbolism,
Form: Rhyme

A Lover's Tale

As we raised ridges on reluctant lands
Our poor spirits wallowed on dwarfed harvest
Castle offered solace to her drudging hands
And she threw my sanguine name off her chest

In the king's arms she twit our blooming love
And rummage pride and diamonds at his feet
Such towering aloft drudge and ill-luck
That spread arms around the girdle of my wits

Her face neither subdue' darkness like sun spark
Nor blur the lustful glimpse of curious eyes
But like shy stars, she twinkles in the dark
And time would not her virtuous glows short-size

I pray passionate venom leaves her flesh
That my gray love might possess her afresh
Categories: drudging, africa, lost love,
Form: Sonnet

Mama's Diary, Part I

I was a “why child”
but unlike many others
didn't ask my questions
right out loud
for they never elicited satisfaction-
only bizarre grown-up reactions
discomfort shown
in odd looks or awkward glances
at each other, over shoulders
uncomfortable silences
growing colder
nervous laughter
qualmish coughing
even worse- the teasing, scoffing
or miserable mealymouthed
meaningless exchanges
in that drudging monotone
of “I'll explain later”
or “you'll understand better
once you're older-
or you're grown”

And so I dug for
the answers myself
delving in dresser drawers
combing through closets and
straining to reach the very
highest-high shelves
I wanted to know all the kinds of things
that people keep to themselves

Until one day, I finally found it
the holy grail I was searching for-
in an anemic cream-colored binding
weathered and worn
my Mama's diary of secret thoughts
from the years before

Breathless, I broke it open
impatient with worrisome wait-
wanting to savor it, to slow down, and taste it
every scandalous secret enclosed within...
so I scanned the dates before reading the entries
to find out where the story would begin

So far, so good
it was ancient to me
back before she was even married
and I couldn't wait to know the fullness
of it treasures trickling down
like a delicious waterfall
cool and refreshing
invigorating
but- Oh!
how she had let me down!

Ruining all my breathless fun
I found that my Mama
was not a very
exciting
kind of woman
Categories: drudging, childhood, family, people, perspective,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Hope

HOPE

Oh, I have landed myself in a bad way
It is a
              very
                         very 
                                       dark place I am stuck.
Alas, a friend lets me now that she has been here as well.  She describes exactly how I am feeling,
                               so uncomfortable
                                                                 so
                                                                          very
                                                                                           dark.
Praise the Universe, she gets me!!!
Will my eyes adjust?
Am I forever lost, drudging tripping in the darkness?
She asks, "can you see any light at all?"
						W
							A
								I													                               T
my friend, I see a tiny hole in the darkness letting a little light into my own dark doings….
My friend exclaims excitedly, "YES!"
						"That light for you represents HOPE!"
I contort my brain to keep my eyes on this light,
									This HOPE.

My friend is joy-jumping for me, cause in this light, this HOPE, is my escape she tells me.  It is showing me there is an end to my turmoil of
																							DARKNESS 

and the hole WILL grow bigger and the light will shine brighter.
She ever-so-sweetly reminds me that I have put myself in this cavern as she herself has done before.  
					“Stay in the solution of positive action, and little by little, with HOPE and blessing you will awake each day to a new chance to keep fixing what You have broken”, says SHE.

I text my friend a tiny but real true smile.  I can get by with a ‘lil help from a real friend.
	
                         YES THERE IS HOPE FOR CRYSTAL!!!
		


Jill Spagnola
Categories: drudging, depression, encouraging, faith, friendship,
Form: Prose Poetry

The Time Machine

In to the future times, eons from now
My friends and I in newest time machine
We flew to reach a world, enchanting! Wow!
With rose thickets, meadows and lofty pines

No heat; no Sun, in there; a lone full Moon
Was smearing sandalwood balsam on us
Running bunnies and frolicking raccoons
Did run a riot, while bees honey hummed buzz

My friends were filled with joy and flair, new-found
One reined a dinosaur; one chased a hound
One painted white, a crow; one tamed a bear
One dressed a wounded deer and hugged with care

One ran for sweet honeys dripping from trees 
With tongue outstretched and hit a black outcrop
Some climbed the trees and ate the fruits with glee
Some clung and swung to banyan’s hanging props

One raised a bough like a sword; displayed his brawn
And screamed, “I am the king of these realms green”
Adorned his wife with milky quills of swans
Her red headband and preened, “I am the Queen”

Went on and on my peoples’ prank and mirth
Till sounded time machine, “It’s time, it’s time”
We sprinted back to occupy our berths
And left that world of bliss with thoughts sublime

And back in my office; on broken chair
Below my screeching fan, with grim grimace
I sighed aloud and reached the open air
To find my friends drudging in Sun’s furnace

A wrenching feeling rudely swept my mind
“We live in neither future nor in past
To this Present alone we’re firmly chained
And breathe the breeze of this minute and last”


When truth unclothed had streaked before my eyes
Returned I sad and broke my truck of lies
Categories: drudging, uplifting, future, time,
Form: Quatrain

My Dark Nights

At the distant verge of horizon
Slowly submerging is weary Sun
With reddened face
Bidding grudging adieus
To his day long drudging
Brooding over mandatory next come

I stood there staring at Him
I wanted to say “don’t depart”
In an automatic reflex
I lifted my right hand aloft! 
Nay! He didn’t stop! I wept! 

As feared reemerging are my
Horror-ogres, with creepy insurgence
A dirge from distant mountain range
Barged inside my fragile core
With harrowing clangor

Oozing out acid-reminiscences
From burrows of my bruised past
Started corroding once more
My already well-abraded heart

The dark thickets of moonless night
Are thickening my tiresome thoughts
I wriggle on my bed like a sloughing serpent
In an insomniac discomfort getting ready 
For deadly duels with my night spirits

My only hope! A quick crack of dawn! 
To restart my histrionics and harlequinade
amongst my people; and dazzle one more day
Making fun and pleasing everyone
With my feigned charm and exuberance
Dreading inside the night at imminence
Categories: drudging, angst, confusion, depression, fantasy,
Form: Free verse


Tortured Souls

We are men with tortured souls,
Forged to fray for what is right,
Drudging through piercing blows,
Focused upon a dimming light.

Lurching through the darkest path,
Confounded by our cynical ways,
As we daunt others with our wrath,
Feel our essence begin to decay.

Relish the ones we hath loss,
Mourn the ones we neglect,
Spawn our domain from chaos,
Cursed to never truly connect.

Worn by our callused heart,
Empowered by intense grief,
Watch us get torn apart,
Awaiting death's sweet relief.

Only our sorrows remain,
As we pay the devil's tolls,
All we feel now is pain,
We are men with tortured souls.
Categories: drudging, depression, sad, war, men,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Gloomy

It’s a gloomy day ~
All the clouds are grey
They seem in dismay
Sun’s not come to play
The wind does not stay
The leaves do not sway
No charming display
A drudging weekday
What do they convey?
 ~ It’s a gloomy day



written on 08.17.2021
Categories: drudging, sad,
Form: Monorhyme

Dawn

Black is the night filled with fright.
The darkness hiding things from sight.
 A pain inside, such a feeling you cannot hide.
 Overwhelmed by emotion, can’t shake the notion.
 Eyelids sharp as razor blades imprinted images never fade. 
Desperate for some sleep, the wounds run deep.
 The days are taunting, as dreams are haunting.
 Drudging up the past, how does the pain last, a day, a week, a month, a year, shamelessly cloven in fear.
 Waiting for the night that I see the light.
© Toby Mertz  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: drudging, abuse, addiction, power, sad,
Form: Rhyme

Abtruse Psyche

In the midst of
nothingness,
Searching through
darkness,
Embracing
loneliness,
Comprehending
vagueness,

Befriending
uncertainties,
Playing with
vulnerabilities,
Absorbing
obscurities,
Appreciating
difficulties,

Drudging
malfunctions,
Living with
illusions,
Addicted to
intrusions,
Slave of
temptations,
Categories: drudging, dark, emo,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Thundering

A silence
Drawing
Drudging
Driving
Drumming
Drilling
Louder than
A drone
Rushing like a river
A mill
A power plant
In a hurry
Wild with fury
Roaring past
Resounding
Late for the 
End of time



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Posted on October 2, 2019
Categories: drudging, silence, sound, strength, stress,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member A Jackson

The pearl-gray sky of early morning
harmonized with my mood;
color without color
life without meaning;
as I wandered through the streets
at a loss; no job.

My downcast eyes;
eye contact unsought;
watching my feet step by drudging step,
came across a twenty-dollar bill,
discarded, dropped, abandoned?
It lay there, slightly grubby;
as money often is.

To lose a twenty bill, I thought
for someone could be the difference;
food or hunger,
others; just a gamble;
on some bright spinning reels of chance.
But here it was:
Twenty dollars on the ground,
Andrew, staring at me; tempting.

A moments troubled hesitation;
I move on
and leave the twenty where it lay
for someone needier than I to find.

Yellow sunshine pierces the gray
My back straightens
my walk is brisker, zippy.


$ Poetry Contest placed 1st
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
Date wrote: 13-June-2021
Categories: drudging, money,
Form: Free verse

Sonnets N Free Verse

we are drudging along
old horses pulling
candle light dinner
every  day
writing sonnets in iamb-
ic pentameter to pl-
ease the lords for
daily bread and 
wine evry day
under the booming je
ts an spirallin rock-
ets in the global
village they po-
st free verse
and starve
passion
Categories: drudging, abuse,
Form:

The Battle Within

A shadow falls upon my heart 
compressed in a ribbon of emotion.

My mind begs for relief as my body fights
with and unknown foe.

A soul begins to war, drudging through the 
sea of decaying memoirs.

As the Heaven and Hell embark a battle for
jurisdiction, my life battles to survive.

The pain of continual raging contention,
slowly, with even pace eroding away reality.

“Oh God” my mind cries out are you hearing
my pleas?

The emptiness of despair dripping like an 
infection through my soul.

I beg for relief of this curse, this complete 
feeling of abandonment.

A blanket of utter loneliness shrouds my mind,
my soul, my existence.

“Please my God” my spirit weeps.  “Forgive me, 
help me, make me whole.”

My faith is but a thinly drawn line,
a small amount of faith, a shadow of itself.

Faith that now begins to fade as if penned to an
old damaged parchment.

As the raging power between good and evil persists,
all that favors the one to the other is Love, Hope, Faith,
even though that line is a faded, depilated thin line.
Categories: drudging, depression, faith, hope,
Form:

Premium Member spring into it

Spring semester has started.
We’re all immersed in the ritual of change
and totally committed to that descent into madness
to the relentless drabness, the flatness, the blandness
for the hours, days and weeks of study
and a bone-deep fatigue that’s actually funny

We’ll live at the edge of intensity
near the the corner of drudging
and gather around the printer
at the media center
like a secular rite of passage

I think I need a daily grind—to keep my mind busy.
What’s wrong with me, that when I’m on vacation, I miss it?
What if work/study is one of my bone-marrow-deep love languages?
.
.
Songs for this:
Happy Dreamer by Laid Back
Easier Said Than Done by Thee Sacred Souls
(You're Better) Than Ever by illuminati hotties
Categories: drudging, endurance, engagement, growth, humor,
Form: Rhyme
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