Best Enfeebled Poems


Premium Member Windmill

It was once the pride of a prairie farmer not too many years ago.
Now, long abandoned it stands forlorn on a wind-blown plateau.
Its rusting blades slowly turn at the whim of every passing breeze.
It has weathered the storms of summer and the bitter winter's freeze!

It leans a bit askew and a couple of blades are missing from the shaft,
And it squeals a lot as it laboriously turns with each passing draught.
The rusty weather vane dangles lifelessly having served its vital role.
No life-sustaining water doth it draw for this once busy watering hole!

A couple of stately cedar trees grow nearby as if standing guard,
Over the old windmill's enfeebled frame so twisted and so marred.
The water tank that once over-flowed with cool waters from the well,
Now lies in a corroding heap where not a living thing doth dwell!

A once sturdy barn leans in upon itself nearby in a terrible shambles,
Nearly hidden by ancient oaks and creeping blackberry brambles.
What was once a prosperous farm, alas, is now torn asunder.
Who once dwelt in that archaic homestead, I am left to wonder!

The once beckoning oasis sated the thirst of a multitude of creatures.
A well-worn path is seen leading there - 'tis one of its lasting features.
The verdant prairies for many years with working windmills were replete.
Graceful windmills that graced the landscape are, alas, nearly obsolete!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories: enfeebled, nostalgia, water, water,
Form: Rhyme

Inconstant Beloved

At eventide,
Under the roseate glow
Of the receding evening sun
I sauntered down the road
To where my beloved dwell
Not far-off from my own abode

Fast by his threshold 
A low moan issued from his room
I made open the unlocked door
And so I happened upon him
Mightily taking his mistress
My eyes grew wide in shock

I made as if to storm,
But then stopped
Loosed upon me, an exquisite pain
Felt with every fibre of my being 
Soundlessly, I turned around 
Post-haste, homeward bound

In great dolour, I walked onward
Carrying my enfeebled feet
Heedless of the lowering clouds
Lightning flashing, thunder pealing
Yet I walk onward
And so the heaven opened 

Pouring, the rain
The entire me suffused with it 
Thus I quiver in frost, yet
I walked my leaden leg in the drenching rain
And so the inky blackness of the night cast over me

The evanescent rain went home
Afterwards , I gained my shelter 
All rain-drenched 
I laid, inert in my bed
With an unblinking stare,
My eyes cast into the void

Benightedly, I fell in the arms of Morpheus 
And I saw the door opened with a groan
Came in, my inconstant lover  
He drew nearer and sat fast by me
I couldn't cast a look at him
For scalding tears welled up in my eyes

He pillowed my head on his chest 
And nursed me in his arms
Touched his lips to my locks
Now patting, now caressing 
My shoulder, my tresses
His heart beating pitter-patter  

He held the nape of my neck 
And with an undertone voice
Whispered to my ear
Forgive my failings, my Inamorata 
You're a vision of beauty,
And you're my true love.

I harkened to the honeyed words
Falling from his silver tongue
My heart leapt 
Thus, hungrily,
I bathed his lips with sensuous kisses 
And I melted into his embrace.

I arouse from my slumber, behold! 
E'en the murky darkness of the night
Has passed away
And the sun, smiling in the heavens
But my heart, still heavy with pain
Alas! Who to bring solace to my lugubrious tear-stained visage
Categories: enfeebled, betrayal, break up, feelings,
Form: Ballad

Chaos In Laos

Looked up and down, right and left
Wondering why life suffers a theft
Subtracted beauty from my chin cleft
 
If I deserved and preserved the best
My love could lavish to attest
Why my love passed a preset test
 
Under dodgy durations of circumstances
Pummeling endeavours made in instances
That diminished and dwindled distances
 
Acknowledged to reveal robust character
On a bus, on a train, on foot, on a tractor
Where we determined adversity no longer a factor
 
In consolidating the love we feel
Grows  by leaps and bounds despite the bill
Your family sprang on me to deal and kill
 
The foundations you and I have built
Over the years to fight to the hilt
Any machinations to pour heaps of silt
 
Into our love cogs
Meaning  love should don cogs
Saunter under coercion in bogs and fogs
 
To prove its strength
Walking on hot coals at length
If truth should pervade and invade love width
 
To delight your parents
So worried and harried by overdue rents
We owe for domestic tents
 
That accommodate our nights and days
Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays 
Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays
 
Shared with supreme care
Far beyond compare
Even when evil eyes stare
 
Willing you and I could disintegrate
To delight the flight of the ingrate
Who  wishes our relationship could migrate
 
Into Dante's Hades
Struck by full blown Aids
Enfeebled and disabled in beds
 
Where to detractors we surrender
Stuck owing bucks to the vendor
Who  dares to crush our love in his blender
 
Administering his coup the grace
As we lie panting on yellow grass
Listening to soothing sounds of brass
 
Whispering osculation and consolation
Amid an attempt at immolation
Our love sustains not in isolation
 
But in tandem
With a hustled harem
Which sings its ultimate knell anthem.
Categories: enfeebled, poems,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member The Human Seasons: Elements At W r and Peace, Part Ii

2

Bourne loosely through the chill gusts,
Disordered fragments of summer's life go hurried by,
Harried to their last resting places
Into piles of brittle, browning drifts
Scattered on stiffening ground.
A cold sun, coursing ever more briefly
Across these hard, blue-white skies,
Presides above a sleeping landscape steeped in dying hues,
The last fanfare of the greens of life
Draining now into starkness
As nature sheds her flesh and slows
To pose in cold stillness between her cycles
Of life and death,
Waiting, now Winter's uncertain, barren bride.

In the house where the anger rang against the walls
Red thoughts of their minds have burnt away
To leave behind that sour feeling
That sinks to sorrow
Now pride has stepped in to break the bridges
Of charity they might have built back to one another.

Between them those virtues which bind us all together,
The formalities and incidents
The long parade of small things that make up a shared life,
Go on together as always, in smooth procession day to day
The image of harmony exists,
Though not its substance.
They know from this the weight of awkward silences
Falling between them now and again
Dropping like stones into the deepening pools
Of unspoken discontents forming in their hearts;
Ripples of sadness climbing in widening rings
To skim the surfaces of their speech
As breezes blown down through the sapphire sky
Tear the detritus of summer's corpse from its enfeebled moorings;
Fling the bits of yesterday's blazing beauty
Into pell-mell drifts against foundations, sills,
As spark-scattered frosts gather more thickly
With every lengthening night.
Categories: enfeebled, anger, conflict, depression, life,
Form: Free verse

A Strange Telephone Conversation With Jen

Number 6 of
THE JENNIFER POEMS



“Be that Miss Jen?” shuddered my voice.
Oh Eros, for three barren year I have waited.
“Alloo,” came from the other end, soft , softer
Pulling my very heart from my enfeebled chest.
That voice, the fuel of my hitherto dying soul; 
Voice of Jen. 


If by the hand of providence 
I was at that moment fossilized,
An eternal smile be on that face registered
So that the world be told I loved her true.

Permit reader to tell thee what so troubled a voiced plodded-
I implore thee listener to hold those hearts like men
For no worse pestilence, no worse dissatisfaction 
Had I before felt when that voice quivered in resignation.

“Gerald, no human in this world
Will point to me as a friend-
I have none save fiends and pestilence.
No family at my call.
I have lived in a world of gloom and deceit.
Oh Gerald, if my very pain be understood.

And Jen resolved to exhume for my ears
That self-pity and doom of those gloomier years…
© NGT NGT  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: enfeebled, confusion, depression, passion, romance,
Form: Blank verse

The Best Medicine

Let out a laugh if you’re lousy,
Add some amusement to aches,
Utter an outburst when under the weather,
Giggle your way through the shakes,
Howl if you’re feeling heart-sore,
Titters are good for infliction,
Enfeebled and exhausted? Try some elation,
Roll in the aisles, my prescription.
Categories: enfeebled, health,
Form: Acrostic


My Car My Bucolic

MY CAR MY BUCOLIC.
    
 The speed of my automobile exclusively,
 Depends on the wheelman which earth born, 
 Crave where the passengers await it's destination,
 Seeing an endless road ahead.
 Every four years is it's renewal with the,
 Hope of getting to the promise terra-firma,
 Where the Israelites peregrinates to,
 With despondency from it's adversaries.
 Only the strong survive to drive the car twice.

 Oh! My wrecked car needs help;
 Oh! My foolhardy driver needs help
 The despoiled car got it's wound from exterior
 Forces; where there is no necessity for protect
 Asthenic tyre dawdle the speed;
 The engines that fabricates the car now hassle,
 Each other with hopeless range in anger
 In this car, life live by the way car live life.

 My enfeebled heart deems of the,
 Mechanic who can revamp my sick car
 My position calls for change which we need;
 Marooning us inside the darkest tunnel to fracas,
 The predators which we see not.
 Let's have a heroic search,
 Seeing not the vices of the past motorist.
 
 Wheel the car oh driver!
 Wheel the car to the right path
 That the passenger serene
 Wheel pass the motor park where other,
 Cars swift with competition among them
 My car my bucolic with countless myriad resources.
 

      
                                         By: ADEBOYE JESUTOFUNMI?
Categories: enfeebled, future,
Form: Idyll (Idyl)

Premium Member Exoneration

These days, when He watches her, she unconsciously moves 
                      a fringe of hair to veil her eyes, 
and even that is cause for His chagrin. 

The nights He comes home wasted, smelling of beer,
 He minces her with vile slurring words, incoherent bile 
that       slices holes and seeps      into      her soul 
                     until she feels her entrails          quiver.    

If she dares to speak, He seizes that moment to play Lord and Master 
       and put her in her serfage place (though ironically, the plebian is He).  
He screams at her, “What is that?      What’s that you say?” 
She yearns to know the shibboleth He seeks from her, 
                       that magic utterance      to take His wrath away. 
But they are words not granted her. 

Remission is not hers inside His house. And when the beatings begin,
 she bows on knees enfeebled, soundlessly submitting. 
          From this she has learned she will receive a swifter castigation. 

Afterwards - through the rumbling of His stirring in the bed beside her, 
she lies stone-like, replaying in her mind 
         what has become a more and more familiar fantasy:  
A young man, debonair and kind, touches sandy locks and moves them gently 
         to the side. He holds her face and smiles into her eyes.  
Life with such a man, she thinks, will be for her one day, 
                                                                            exoneration.


Written March 18, 2014 / 
for Shadow Hamilton's The Dark Side of Love Poetry Contest
Categories: enfeebled, abuse,
Form: Free verse

A Frail Captain Hook

Waking up, I'm shaken by an awful thought:
it's not a sunny February morning,
but heartwarming wishes on Facebook
alleviate the anxiety of a gloomy feeling
to enliven the mood and be immensely grateful
to God and do what is worth living for, but
is the state of being old that word so painful?
Should aging looks be an embarrassment...
comparing me to a frail Captain Hook
who sailed in rough seas without fright!

People I run into stare at me strangely and guess
my approximate age by the fine line and wrinkles,
but they don't see how young and virile I am inside;
if perfection and handsomeness are the advantages
of the younger men to pursue women and attract,
what are the disadvantages of the older ones?
Is the perception of an enfeebled body a horror to hide,
or an accomplished milestone to make an impact?
Categories: enfeebled, age, courage, endurance, fear,
Form: Rhyme

Crippled Underneath

Beautiful... Is all they see
oblivious to the crippling underneath
Not of limb or sight nor speech 
enfeebled truly when it comes to need
The potters wheel held steady spin
yet hands that formed were cruel
creating pieces that could never be used
as vessels expected to depend

A ladders rung that falls away
when simple trust you gave
time and again will find you grounded 
so high were the heights once counted
and the lessons embedded from the fall 
Not one or two the range is thousands
from the simple and such extremes
Better the choice to be safely serene
then the hope you'll be redeemed from it all

For the lilac so fragrant a fragile fool
has fallen to the ground before you
Careless and unmeaning steps 
can crush her till there's no beauty left
Her fragrance sweeter when trusting less
yet seeing beneath the surface is what you do best
If hands she had to reach for the ladders rung
Just one more time to prove
with time not left for false of tongue 
and the living of dreams to shun 
would her courage this time bear the truth
that the one who made her made her for you?

Beautiful is all they see
but you, your set apart
You see the crippled underneath
and never give up on my heart
Categories: enfeebled, love,
Form: Rhyme

Obatamy

We the enfeebled of the incited states of confusion, ordered to deform a more perfect union, 
establish just Them, insure narcotic tranquility, provide for the common everything, promote 
Welfare, and procure the dressings of Liberty to Them and Their posteriors, do profane and 
demolish this Constitution of the United States of America.
Categories: enfeebled, parody, political
Form:

Premium Member It's Over

petals
drifting slowly
from enfeebled branches
dreams, forever lost, "Till death do..."
we're dead


05/25/2017
Categories: enfeebled, lost love,
Form: Cinquain

Opportunities

Enfeebled by suffering, my steps refused to abide my call
              Tears streamed down when opportunity gently walked into my life
         Should I or should I not accept the responsibility that breathed close by?
                  I laid aside my self pity, doused out the agony with pain killers 
                                       And put on my armour of fortitude
                                Smilingly I went forth with my two stalwarts 
                          As Alexander may have with his army against Poros
                  In a fierce battle of wits we won a magnificent love cup trophy 
                 Like a towering sterling chalice we held on to its proud handles 
                       The dopamine effect kept us beaming on the podium
                          As shutterbugs kept us showered in their limelight


                                                November 3, 2016
                                            For Nayda Ivette Negron
Categories: enfeebled, allusion, pain,
Form: Free verse

Lost Battle

He was there recumbent like a log
Cancer has culminated,prevailing over him
Enfeebled all his shielding apparatuses
Yet spurned to frolic prolongation

Eschewed palliative care ministrations
He detected the vital prognosis was engaged
He had instead to plough money into God's certitude
For he realized HE implements nothing fortuitously 

Could he yet afford to acquit himself otherwise 
Engage in a battle lost right from the dawn ?
Categories: enfeebled, death of a friend,
Form: Free verse

Piercing Eyes

PIERCING EYES
                                                                              My
                                                                          Ineffable
                                                         Inferno like emotion for you
                                                I tried to bare, for no longer could I bear it.
                                                                      But I could not.
                                       I made to run, to hide far away from you to a sequestered
                                 World of fantasy of my own where this feeling one day enfeebled
                                  And dead would be and its corpse the hearse into the nether world of
                                Illusion would lower.But on time this insidious desire in my eyes,
                            Flawless, so genuine, you saw and those salving hands of yours towards
                                Me  in embrace sauntered,heartsrings pulling kisses, caress abreast 
                                    Behind ambled and my entirety thru the sky of ecstasy scudded
                                        And in gratification nestled.To those eyes of yours eternally
                                            In gratitude my knees will bend, for only piercing eyes
                                                         As those could this sensation lurking
                                                                   In the caverneous depth
                                                                             Of a heart
                                                                                 Bare.
Categories: enfeebled, loveworld,
Form: Narrative
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