Best Embittered Poems


Premium Member Slang Footles for Male Names: Part 3

Always Prepared

Ready 
Freddy

The Untamed

Feral
Ferril

What’s in Frankie’s Pockets?

Frankie’s
hankies

Patriotic Guy

Yankee
Frankie

Of the highest Quality

Fraser’s
razors

Small Eater

Grazer
Frazer

The Warlock

Pagan
Fagin

The Brilliant One

Star Glow
Fargo

Something’s About to Happen to Him

Herald
Gerald

Poet

The bard
Gerard

The Mimic

Parrot
Garret

Who Needs Pudding and Pie

Georgie 
Porgie

Good Grief!

Lordy,
Gordy!

Best Things in his Garden

Gerrett’s
carrots

The Stoic

Steely
Greeley

What People Always Say to Him

Really,
Greeley?

The Generous One

Sharin’
Garen

Thrill Seeker

Gnarly
Harley

So Angry

Snarly
Harley

Embittered

Soured
Howard

Not Brave at All

Coward
Howard

What’s in Henny’s pocket

Henny’s
Pennies

The Pest

Vermin
Herman

What Herman Gives Each Sunday

Herman’s
sermons

Why Can’t He Just Stay Home?

Roamer
Homer

Better Than Ice Cream
 
Sherbet
Herbert

Get Him Band-aids

Howie’s
Owies

Nonsensical

Phooey
Huey

Always Amazed

Wowie
Howie

The Overly Sentimental One

Gooey
Huey
Categories: embittered, boy,
Form: Footle

Premium Member Pompous Pied Piper

Like the pompous pied piper leading the way,
chirping his tune of a dawning new day,
frustrations were championed, oh how we followed,
the ego stuffed shirt of a suit cold and hollow.

From the top of the hill, he showed us the view,
convincing our eyes it was harshly askew.
Nearing the cliffs as if caught in a spell,
he fed us like lambs from his poisonous well.

Touting sweet taste of his truth well embittered,
ignoring the signs of nonsensical twitter,
rot with the smell of the nations decay,
we drank from his cup of a water so gray.

Watching and waiting for gifts of his gruel,
the masses assured we were not made a fool,
his promise of greatness was all we could see,
with great expectations of how it would be.

There's no turning back once we swore the man in, 
believing bright futures were soon to begin,
blinding frustration gave evil its day
for the pompous pied piper to lead us astray.

He led us to thinking, all driven by fear, 
then gave his directives so cryptically clear,
stripping the values by which we would stand
before the American dream had been banned.

Addicted to all the attention and glory, 
swiftly he moved to remain the top story,
insisting on walls made of concrete and steel
built by the anger and hate we should feel.

Then some were shaken, disrupting his spell
and found he was stealing our Liberty Bell.
The fog began lifting and soon we would see
the piper exposed as the fraud he would be.

               Time has a way, proven over again, 
                   of playing its imminent part.
        The shedding of light upon every mans soul, 
                exposing his darkness of heart.

No longer seduced by the piping we hear, 
choosing to see through the veil,
Democracy once again fights to survive,
let us all pray we prevail!

                              -Jeannie Cronin
Categories: embittered, america, change, corruption, death,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member When Red Sunset, Shines Its Brightest Inspiring Lights

When Red Sunset, Shines Its Brightest Inspiring Lights

When morning glories glow, your closed heart opens again
dawn's breaking light shows, a true faithful, loyal friend;
can you then cleanse the hate from your embittered eyes
open hard closed ears to hear this heart's saddest cries?
Recall our friendship, and cherished years we both knew,
remember we fought this dark world, just me and you!

When red sunset, shines its brightest inspiring lights
you feel that cool night's soft breeze, forget our big fights;
see a future when we can dance under new stars
forget the hard times, those bitterest of our scars!
Hold to sworn vows, that united once tender souls,
take a chance, toss the dice, see how it all rolls!

If this poem sent, with its sadden heartfelt plea
can repair the great damage, heal both you and me;
send back this letter sealed with a red lipstick kiss
write pretty love words, the ones that I dearly miss!
Please meet me there at our favorite lakeside spot,
sweet darling, give this broken man another shot!

Recall our friendship, and cherished years we both knew,
remember we fought this dark world, just me and you!
Hold to sworn vows, that united once tender souls,
take a chance, toss the dice see how it all rolls.
Meet me Friday at our favorite lakeside spot,
sweet darling, give this broken man another shot!

Robert J. Lindley, 6-14-2018
Rhyme, ( The Letter Sent)
Edited version of a poem written over 42 years ago.
Although heart-sent and truly felt, there was no reuniting and love thus reborn, however life did march ever onward and the torn, worn, weary and broken heart was not swiftly healed. Yet time eventually did heal it...
Categories: embittered, deep, desire, feelings, heartbreak,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Take Heed, Love

We cannot mimic the cry of a loon. Nor capture the light of the moon.
We'll never reach a distant star. Both too high and much too far.
Yet we search, both hither and yon, Seeking that magical bond.
Love is fragile all too often. It melts a heart and makes it soften.
There's no escape when we're caught in the trap set by the heart.
It doesn't matter who we are, when love becomes a tug of war.
There's no way of putting back, the yolk of an egg that's been cracked.
No band aid has ever healed a wound. It merely covers, but too soon,
The cut, shielded and protected, is exposed revealing it's been infected.
Toxins of the most poisonous kind take away joy and peace of mind.
It's sad, yes, but it's also true, knowing there's nothing more to do.
The road to love can be quite long, and longer yet when it goes wrong.
There are hazards, twists, and turns. Flaming words leave lasting burns.
Depressing are all these thoughts. Morbid ramblings of a wounded heart.
Time heals all wounds, so they say. It's true. Time took my pains away.

These next words I speak to you, Love:

Take heed to my words of scorn. Listen to me, Love, it's you I warn.
Don't bother trying to build a defense. For you there is no recompense.
No payment for the hurt you caused. And no compensation for your flaws.
Embittered and torn, I am no more. But don't knock again upon my door.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: embittered, angst, love,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Inside the Garret

Inside the lonesome garret, all was grey.
He sat there thinking of his broken dreams -
like how he’d planned to be so rich one day,
and yet he’d failed at all his half-baked schemes.

Tormented by the itch that went unscratched, 
he’d grown embittered by his circumstance.
He loathed the one to whom he’d stayed attached,
a foolish wife who yearned for mere romance!
She’d loved him, rich or poor, which was no help!
Her acquiescence made him hate her more.

He smiled as he recalled her startled yelp;
he looked down at her corpse there on the floor. 
His final thoughts were quite far from contrite. . . 
and then a single gunshot sliced the night.
Categories: embittered, sad,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Renewal

It was the feathered purple of a blossoming iris,
kissing the laden air
with trembling lips.
I was awakened by its fragrance,
the newness of its ancient story,
told yet again by a moistening earth
in silvery birdsong.
 
Sometimes,
I have missed the turning from gelid and motionless
to the softening sway that unerringly follows. 
I have been embittered—
brittle and bare as a crooked branch,
scraping a vacuous sky—
 
but not this time.
 
This time, the tenderest breeze,
prodded by the fingers of a spreading sun,
finds me waiting—
eyes closed, smile turned eagerly upwards
to greet the renewal
of creation.
Categories: embittered, spring,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member Harlot

crimson lips
stained with blood of saints
rides the beast
steers the reins
embittered roar portends doom
her end imminent


Spin a Shadorma 
Nette Onclaud
6/3/25

** Photo not my creation
© Tom Woody  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: embittered, woman,
Form: Shadorma

Premium Member The Day After Christmas

Christmas is over and I'm all alone.
The house is now quiet and I lie prone,

Remembering the merriment, the gladness and cheer,
And the wonderful feeling of having them here.

The Christmas tree twinkles by the window so bright.
In this quiet room it's the only light.

There it will stand until New Year's Day,
When I take it all down and put it away.

Then I'll clean the house from one end to the other,
Remembering with love each sister and brother.

I'll think on the past, of the joy and the fun,
Of raising my children, my daughters and sons.

The pain of not having them close by my side,
And how their success has brought me much pride.

Then I'll make some tea and sit down with my cat,
Then the dog at my side I'll get coat and hat.

I'll go for a walk in the crisp winter air,
And rejoice as the frost covers lashes and hair.

My life is a good one all things considered.
No need to feel lonely, abandoned, embittered;

For I have my life and they have theirs.
They write, visit, phone, that proves they still care.

I still have a job and my home keeps me busy.
No need to feel useless like some old tin Lizzy.

I'm not ready for the junk heap yet.
Not old, just experienced, I'm hip, you bet.

Can't wait now for Easter, they'll phone and come by,
And I'll hold each one close and give a glad sigh.
© Judy Ball  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: embittered, family,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Inevitable

An evil comes absent of light, our future holds a violent night

This creature hunts the small and weak, but death will come for those who seek

Embittered by the time at hand, the lame will heal and make their stand

A tortured truth will fast take hold, you have been warned and now are told

Mislead are those now doomed to fail, your lurid ways will not prevail

Heinous lots have now been cast, your time on Earth will soon be past

Bloody is the path you’ve made, your soul will be your final trade

This message comes straight from the west, the last you’ll see will be our best
Categories: embittered, future,
Form: Free verse

Blue Roses and Chocolates

Blue roses and chocolates have been lying there,
untouched and unopen over three days now, 
sadly turning rejection into endless despair;
even light struggles to filter through the closed window...



My gifts aren't appreciated, or even remembered,
and I am torn apart by disbelief and tremor:
with the empitiest feeling ever contemplated;
my disappointed sweetheart expected more...



Perhaps a bracelet or necklace with dazzling diamonds,
would have made her definetely happy like any circus' clown;
if love lusts after material and insignificant things,  
it has no sentimental value in itself, only a monetary one...



Uncaring and silent, with a blank and wandering look that
disfigures the divine face I admired and worshiped always,
my embittered darling is overwhelmed with vanity, touching her neck;
sensing visions of glamour and imagining the feel of sapphires... 
 


Everything I gave her was given out of kindness,
and my blue roses and chocolates should be a gift 
of the kindest of souls offering the simplest things;
and isn't her greed more implacable than a sullen sky full of rage?      


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Categories: embittered, fantasy, girlfriend-boyfriend, imagination, love,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member He Kept His Own Counsel

Others found him cold, aloof
   a bit of a snob
He kept his own counsel
   had nary a friend
Seemed content with a life
   unengaged, to no clear end

Though his insides were churning
   through felt rejection
his embittered heart burning --
   Yet on his face not a trace
of his inner discernings
   of deep-buried yearnings
Categories: embittered, longing, relationship,
Form: Rhyme

Yggdrasil

Beneath the roots of the Tree of Life,
The mythical Yggdrasil,
Live the Three Sisters of Fortune,
Three spinners sit weaving still.

Our fortunes favoured, fortunes damned,
Are spun to dusk from dawn,
The destinies of every man
Ordained before we’re born.

Spun threads of rope and threads of silk
And threads of finest gold;
With every one a path of life
The Spinners have foretold.

Embittered entertainment prompts
Their play with our distress;
They weft and warp our misery
With transient happiness.

Even the most blessed threads
May still incur their wrath,
Sometimes are spun through deeper roots
To weave a darker cloth.

The rarest threads, the bravest lives
Led so resolutely,
But as with gold debase to dust
Corrupted absolutely.

They spin the hopes we seek fulfilled,
And bring them dashing down
They weave our ways to where they wish
Then laugh beneath the ground.

Life’s choices are illusory,
And false we have free will;
Oh cruel Sisters of the Tree!
Oh fickle Yggdrasil!
Categories: embittered, mystery
Form: Ballad

Long Arms of Tender Compassion

Long arms of tender compassion
Oneness of embittered Humanity
Visceral faith was your salvation
Encompassing all vain materialism
Lenitive of the corporal punishment 
Illuminating a hope encrypted in a
Necropolis of suppressed ideas 
Extruding life from deep darkness  
Seeping rain from saturated soil
Sedative of every entombed soul
Categories: embittered, depression, faith, grave, hope,
Form: Acrostic

A Mirror of Me

Darkness only prevails for a while
But light eventually prevails forever
The revenge of an embittered woman 
Is more than the fury of a thousand army.

There are women of substance 
And there are women of superlative substance
In size we grow
In wisdom we surpass
He who can fly
Needs not flying whiskers
For a short while alone
Does iniquity reign

I am my husband’s pillar
A shelter for my children
An envy of all Nation
A symbol of creation
An endurer of pain
The patient dog in human form
A mortal among immortals
A vision beyond the present
I am a virtuous woman
A heiress
A leader
A great instrument
A completion of creations
Mighty in my own way
Categories: embittered, art, beauty, boat,
Form: Ode

When Is the Future,Leaders

The song came to me again this 
morning,
The youth own the future.
It makes my ear bitter and sorrowful.
We been hearing the old song before,
Yet, no future for us the youths.
We are painted black and red,
the Grey hair men still dominate , 
dominate and embezzle our pride.
Our wings cut off amidst agony.


When is the is the future, leader?
When is our turn to get the national 
cake?
When shall we rule perfectly without 
god fatherism?
Good neighbourliness is a good thing,
Yet we are hostile and embittered.
Each moves about its own way,
Facing the oddities of life 
just like the snake of the forest.
Easily harm and hopeless.

Remember our lives have a price.
a price of dignity and honour.
Our lives has a price  to pay before 
another phase of life opens.
When shall you remember our pains 
and suffering?
When shall we be remember in our 
own land?
Remember we follow your footsteps 
Give us bread and we shall give to 
your offspring.
Such is life to behold.


Stop the torture and embezzlement
and give us quantitative future,
Give us future to hope on .
perhaps that would show us our 
position 
in ages to come by.
So we can proudly swallow the song 
without quarreling with our stomach.


When shall you cease to deceive us?
When shall w be gathered in honour?
When shall we taste the honey from 
the land without the bee stings?
In us lies the future but the future is 
hidden from us.
Our ancestors passed the songs to  
our fathers,
and our fathers passed the song to us 
to sing,
we are the leaders of tomorrow 
Yet, we will pass it to our children .
Would that not make us foolish 
fathers?
When is our future, leaders?
When the position is passing hand to 
hand.


remember a hen does not abandon it 
chicks,
Because she hopes to nurture and 
impact on them.
Lead them to the godly ways so that 
when the kite shall come howling
they can hide themselves .
Where shall we hide in the future?
Where is our portion in our native 
land?
careful, beware leaders, we count all 
your steps
our revolt may claim your lives.
Remember the youths watches you 
calmly 
yet angry, angry for justice and equity.
Categories: embittered, betrayal,
Form: Ballad
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