Best Edginess Poems


Premium Member Dear World

Dear world
I shall not attempt to address your problems
As I have enough of my own to ponder
However, I shall sing your praises at sunrise
Play tag with your ever-elusive shadows
Laugh with the dancing leaves of Autumn
Shiver in the moonlit majesty of snow-covered fields
I shall splash in the puddles of springtime rain
Cherish the scent of the soils awakening
Introduce a childs fingers to your mushy mud pies
Bask in the warmth of Summer’s promise
Offer to a tired garden a helping hand
Share a lone tomato with a friend
Remembering dear world
The depth and beauty of your moods
The edginess of your angst
The terror of your temper
The sweetness of a moment in your arms

Premium Member A Call To Action

from "The Waking" by Theodore Roethke:
"I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go."

Queasy anxiety, a fearful edginess of dread,
an old and omnipresent sense of doom
taint the times that random opportunity affords
to slip convention's chains, to openly proclaim
a saner point of view, a logical rejection
of muddy, inane thinking, of tradition-bound
adherence to stupidity's insistent songs
that perpetuate a myriad of wrongs.
Let there be no turning back; face the fears, be the change --
for diversity, humanity, acceptance, brotherhood,
and love.  Explain, support, convince.  Break the silence:
come out, come out, whoever and wherever you may be!

Premium Member I Thee Am a Component Therefore of Intrinsic Outhouse Disconnect

Watch me walk through the sadsands of stupored time 
trading youth for aged ashes, suredness for shyness
knowledge for retirement, candor for cowardice, 
diligence for dunceness, eagerness for 
edginess, fairness for flakiness, goodness for gonadness,
healing for hurting, idealism for idiocracy,
judgement for jealously, kandor for killing,
loving for lamenting, mentoring for miserating, 
needing for neausating, optimizing for obliterating,
penetrating for pilfering, quieting for quaking, 
resolving for rioting, soothing for stabing,
tramping for turmoiling, ultilizing for ultimating,
victory for victimization, 
yearning for yelling, zeal for zone. 
All the best concealed decisions edited for global hypnohypocratic 
nil idea of future impress of evolution but merely a nether
juxtapose of keenly luminated momentous nothings
optimizing precarious quantum ridicules sanctioning
tantalizing ugly utilitiy post variant varicose wanes wantnot 
 noid xoids xenous yeast yearnings zillant aberants aplenty. 
Go Fish.
zonality zeros. 
Climb the dumb death grill gradiant with false feet 
intrepid toe jam steps what is where i am going not going in a pre post past present 
ghost future life emo impotenet fracture fried non sequetor séance
liquid lavid languish unloved resolved irrevernet motion milkmaid 
sociomatrial screwstewed rejectional noncoitial negligant nilneo
nonconstriction deconstruction     r u  fing  kidding me? ??
Let's be uni unfilterfied in our ugly uncorrupt incorporeal craddle of domesticoignoramous
social dysfuntionture aplenty assure. Pills pills my kingdom for some piss pills to ***** die
the ass  sociative remenants that psuedo pusssurrounds my exo it unfulfills.
Dial don't dilenates of wailing wanting mommy masses of momentary 
milkcents mammary malaise. 
Get lost little ones, my device calls to me in its idio elloquence. 
Love u though, don't tell your__________________r_.


Premium Member Forever the Square Peg

Forever the square peg
seeking entry into the round hole,
the smart kid pushing
when the sign says “Pull”.
wandering in the midst
of the hurried,
a dreamer adrift among
those who think themselves awake.
Viewing through the unfiltering eye
of betrayal, the betrayers,
spiritual “Madoffs”
pontificating Ponzi schemes,
promising fulfillment -
for themselves.
Square pegs do not “roll”
through life, varying
speed to meet conditions
they are more suited 
to building, stability,
strength, stoicism.
They often appear lost,
disconnected from, apart
and yet “a part of”,
yet somehow lost
in the “wall-less” box
of the seeking mime,
captured in the swirling
eddy of the twisting flow,
contentedly discontent
purveyors of optional
disillusionments.  Lost
in the mediocrity of 
the moment, lingering
in the rippling foam
of a receding tide.
Wandering Frost’s
“road less traveled”
rejoicing in the touch
of a snowflake, the joy
of a sunflower, the edginess
of a square peg
forever lost.

John G. Lawless
2/5/2016

Premium Member Tweaked

I dove boldly in to my psychosis
this gave me a kind of leverage
a tiny fragment of sanity
shiny bevel of edginess to my personality
so vulnerable, derelict, unloved
my resolution, a thought will blossom
explode in to this dark world
kill all the demons that ride on people’s backs
I see them clinging to people 
I see them feeding on people 
I see them, in the sinkhole
that ugly beautiful place, I visit sometimes
delusion or illusion
too scary, we need more love and kindness in the world
I’m swimming back to the top now

Entry to Eight word challenge poetry competition
Written 08.06.2019
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann

In harmony with nature

Gently smile along when the flowers grin;
Freely fly along when butterflies glide
Divulge the veiled exuberance within;
Set your worldly tribulations aside.

Pace along with ever ebullient breeze;
Crazily dance along with the bumblebees;
Snatch the heavenly rhythm of singing trees;
Make your earthly edginess smoothly flee.

Grow along with those pretty little sprout
pierce the rigid barrier , make own route;
Walk along with a trail of busy ants,
overhear them reciting success chants.

Live in harmony with nature ever,
for she will teach life lessons forever;

Jan-11-2024


Premium Member Going Home

Going home

He had come back different, or maybe he had never really come back at all. 
It had changed him; now eyes withdrawn, furtive,
Looking out into someplace, somewhere within his own mind.

Even in sleep, never really at ease.
Twitchy with dreams and mumbled words.
Sometimes awakened, sitting but not really there.

Worsening as time unfolded,
Gripped in the mind and body, 
Abetted by liquor and chemicals. 
Counselors seen for the edginess, irritability, bad dreams.

The distances from family widened,
First gradual withdrawal, then full retreat.
No answers, only tears and anger.

Until now laid to rest.  

David Holmes 
March 5, 2021

A drizzly wind-swept day atop a hill;
The white markers with chiseled family names and dates to then surround him.

As they gathered in the wind,
The mournful plangent sound
Of the piper in kilt swept over them,
Bringing rest, bringing closure.





.

Premium Member Tatiana Needed Support To Come Out

*Image of Me Flirting by Gfycat.
Tatiana Needed Support To Come Out

Lil' Tatiana her stomach like butterflies,
Could not speak in public, had doctor analyze,
Prescribed taking lessons and try to improvise,
Instead, the butterflies started to colonize.

Insecticides were used by helping euthanize,
It did the task but still, she could not vocalize,
Her parents told her story so to advertize,
Many had read it and started to empathize.

Experts arrived and the masses did galvanize,
For now, they concentrate just keeping localize,
They trust that this way it will help to minimize,
And help her focus, what is best to maximize.

People she knew made her calm and help sensitize,
The experts aware there's a need to emphasize,
That her mental status best needs to stabilize,
And bring to bear her priors and visualize.

Raising her mettle, edginess will stabilize,
Obstacles aside will help her to verbalize,
The lower her fears fulfill and not traumatize,
So the need to practice and do more exercise.

She is set and on her ways, all will recognize,
Placed all her thoughts and energy to harmonize,
That her realm attractively has gone neutralize,
And she will be good to come out and stabilize.

Her folks were talked out of it to not publicize,
The audience did come out and desensitize,
The conditions and all have her epitomize,
Her Shakespearean reading, a soliloquize.

2020 March 01

HMS; 28 lines x 12 syllables per = 336 syllables total

Heaps of Wretchedness

Numbness prevails over me,
Masking me… sending me pangs of suppression
Deadness tears its way inside of me,
Consuming me… devouring me with yanks of oppression

Darkness frowns upon me,
Dragging me down…sending me scraps of sadness
Gloominess molds me inside and out,
Chasing after me…surrendering to my wretchedness

Shadiness lurks above me and it wildly swarms,
Murdering me…scarring me with my unbroken misery
Murkiness blankets over us like troubled storms,
Shaking us up…bribing me with heaps of boundless fury

Edginess overrides me like a wraithlike form,
Misleading me…sneering at my failures and agony
Blurriness absorbs in this uncanny terrain…no sign of storm
Still, I’m withering into sand, grinding into shards of tragedy

The Intruder

The army intruder

I live near a stream that has been running dry for years
into a winter lake that has been drained to a helicopter pad
trees around wear dusty uniforms.
There is edginess in Europe after many years of peace
the warrior monster is waking up.
The monster is psycho erratic and can strike at any time
asks for more weapons.
We think we know who the enemy is, as usual, but we are wrong
as we listen to the voice of antagonism.
A new page of history is written; we must make a choice
Not wait till millions of people are killed, the last bomb dropped
when a poet writes about the war, be “the guardian famous.”
The new peace will only last so long because the human mindset 
is set on war; this is our tragedy.
The voice for peace is as puny as children cry in the symphony
of the battlefield.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

False Dawn

Yesterday, what to say of yesterday to make today seem here? 
What was that emptiness of nothing hounds' baying unheard and close? 
Uselessness showing fanged despair at every chosen turn. 
Music refusing to support even bluest of wailing torment 

What was that dark grey cloud of beaded cloak wrapped edginess? 
Whence came that short snarling impatience of exploding fuses 
Tearing away at binding loving silken care 
Racing into crashing surf of desperation's waves 

Knowing instinctively it's all in vain 
There is no path 
There is no trail 
Hope's machete dulled against the constant clinging roots 

The ever running sands swirl in the moon tide's swell of sorrow 
And only yesterday was this tomorrow

Premium Member Come To Me

come to me my darling, my deary,
my sweet cheeked youth.
though snow may curl lovingly 
about your brow
and life trace deep paths 
around your ardent eyes

snuggle me cosy comforter.
your wisdom sings
through a masterful touch
that travels my landscape
laughing that i blush 
as you discover me once again. 


your hand relaxes 
liquid honey trails flow lazily. 
deep in your chest I hear your heart
my charm, my grail; there too echoes 
your need-filled voice.   

you fill my arms handsomely
we taste passion mellowed by time
it is rich varied tender-wild and artful
the edginess smoothed by knowing
come to me my snowy leopard
make time dance

Premium Member Just Another Foulmouthed Saint

He was just another foulmouthed saint
“halo” tilted jauntily to one side
wings tucked neatly into a dirt stained jacket

aura – lightly tinged with a sparkle of dust.
cussing – his milieu of mindfulness
spitting – his punctuation marks.

Yet they always sought him out
sat with him, tapped his endless time,
shook their heads in awe of his irreverence.

He said “that if the shadow you cast
isn’t longer that that of the church
you should find another church”.

Claims he read a book – ONCE
built a few colleges 
never attended one.

He had a predatory edginess
patrolling, protecting, shepherding,
all who entered his domain.

His face absorbing the pain of his vision
watching the innocent betrayed
by sweet talking charlatans

he would occasionally straighten his halo
unfurl his rumpled wings
tell them to “F..k off!” – and spit!!

He was just another Foulmouthed Saint.


John G. Lawless
©5/30/2018

Premium Member TICK TALK

An old clock ticks in the background
Never quite sure of what time it is
Yet steadfastly sure it is right at least twice a day

It will not tell you your blood pressure
Nor will it count your footsteps
Or find you the nearest Starbucks

Its gears will eventually wear down
Softly lose their edginess
Its ticks become a fading whisper

It will slowly become more silent
Its presence less noticeable 
Unless it is a friggin’ Cuckoo clock

Your Wings Shall Not Be Clipped

Within this bleakest loss of day
I reach for you and find you gone
without a soothing word to say
and here am I your willing pawn.

Yet circumstance has brought us this;
the empty tides upon the sea.
I knew it in our last long kiss.
You were about to set me free.

It matters little now you know;
the edginess,the erstwhile zeal.
Now living in the ebb and flow
of passion you just could not feel.

So now you're vanished in the night
with empty heart and barren soul.
And I would rather fail than fight.
Thus I will play the martyr's role.
© Deb Wilson  Create an image from this poem.

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