Best Exhausted Poems
Willed
Vague sword
Weak heart and sight
Boundless wisdom, although
My soul has full enthusiasm
Body growing old and becoming weak
My resolve outweighs the bullet
Reeled swilled
Billed.
(The Bell)
Written: June 27, 2021
Ring My Bell Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Anderson
So much effort
goes into feeling well...Man,
I’m exhausted! There’s nausea
from supplements, the squeak
and throb, Just One More Rep!~ exercising…
Man, I’m exhausted!
As much effort
going into relaxation – rush to get
things done (always a backup of
things); shuffle schedules, get sitters
for the animals – Man, I’m exhausted!
Even love, the chores, the cards,
the gifts, the emotional lifts...honey-does
seeming to have endless reserves,
never running short on pantries of
exhaustion.
Someday, probably, I’ll
wake-up, unpleasantly surprised
and find myself either stoking furnaces,
fluffing angel wings while polishing
the backside of clouds – Man, give me
a break!
Ouch!~ finally something I asked for….
I have hushed voices in my head
they say the things I’ve always said
they echo loudly thus keeping me
from finding my own calm poetry.
I need respite from all of this
can’t even find my happiness
I know he’s crying hiding pain
haunting me again and again.
Torturing me they suffocate
my joy I’ve lost and subjugate
a thousand voices so unclear
escaping reality and their fear.
A few sweet things keep me sane
I return to them again and again
to drink their joy and to taste
the essence of them but in haste.
Fearing majesty just might go
and back to hell my soul to sow
the thoughts that fuel my misery
swallow me whole indiscriminately.
I have these voices in my head
from all the things I’ve ever said
funny though there does still reign
joyous feelings in my heart remain.
(click the pic for a preview of my upcoming book!)
"American Grafitti" took me back again to High School in the 1960's
"Back to the Future's" nifty hot rod took me back in time and almost left me!
"City Slickers" took me way out west, to rustle cows and ride a horse
"Da Vinci's" code, did not bode well, the Vatican did not endorse!
"E. T. " turned out to be my friend, we peddled bikes far past the moon
"Forrest Gump" shared my lunch, and shared his chocolate just past noon
"Groundhog Day" is darn confusing, is it Monday or is it Tuesday?
"Hannibal" is one cruel dude,..........he sharpens teeth so he can chew me!!
"I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry" invited me to toast their wedding
"Jaws" invited me to take a swim! Those who did, were soon regretting!
"King Kong", was one poor ape who climbed too high for past mistakes,
"Lincoln" had too much at stake, but ended war between the states
"Mummy 1" and "Mummy 2" made me cry for Mommy,...PLEASE!
"No Country for Old Men"...but young dudes look, and want to leave!
"O' Brother Where Are Thou?" escaped their chains to play like Ringo
"Psycho's" bathtubs scare me silly, my next motel will be Flamingo's
"Quarantine" because I'm sick? If I stay in bed, they call me lazy
"Rosemary's Baby"...yikes that kid? Babysit....?? Are you crazy?
"Superman" claimed that he could help me, but flew away with no advice
"Titanic" hit a piece of ice, (that Superman was not so nice!)
"Unforgiven" (now is Superman)...Clint Eastwood is the slicker guy
"Valkyrie"'s plot has thickened...Let's all poke Hitler in the eye!
"When Harry Met Sally" I was jealous....her cafe' scene has made me blush
Xanadu had me roller skating.......racing faster, while I'm dating
"Young Sherlock Holmes" was just a kid, I kid you not, he met his Watson
"Zoolander" 's slacks were Cuban made.. I borrowed some and they were awesome!
(and I'm exhausted!)
______________________________________________
For Cyndi's exhausting ABC contest!! Whew!
Just like closing a book without reading a page,
Or as to a child who is tired of being a kid;
Like a preacher that won’t stay in a pulpit so long
Or to a sprinter who leaves from the running throng.
No time for laughter or for returning a grin
Or consoling oneself for the pain deep within;
No self-pity or pride to be felt by the heart
Yet reserved and reluctant for another start.
Sleep is precious and so desired by the mind
Having no urge for a smoke or for the spirit of wine;
No more is the longing for a kiss or embrace
When the will of a man only needs its own space.
Like a rooster of the dawn that would be cackling no more
As the dew that would dry without wetting at all.
Or a poet who used to spend some long sleepless nights
For the mind is now stalled with nothing to write.
No more rhyming lines or a tune for a song
Though the art for the craft is still able and strong;
But to rest and to rest is what the soul ever wanted
For the spirit that is numbed and so exhausted.
Date & Time of Writing
November 19, 2011
1:32pm – 2:05pm
I had a sleepless night and feeling the pain within my heart up to the time of this writing. I am simply getting impatient of my own patience. I feel that, for such, I become vulnerable to exploitations and blatant lies. Albeit, I still strive to be fair by keeping the pain within myself and hoping that at the end of this particular writing the pain I have inside would be just a driving force of coming up another piece of a candid poem.
I've tried to make words rhyme at the end of their stanzas,
but rhyme wasn't too perfect for those impersonal stanzas,
the Iambic pentameter was right, but it required rhyme for intensity,
so rhyme didn't agree with Iambic pentameter in every verse;
I paraphrased every stanza with a rephrase,
but frustration stepped in with a must of an exact phrase,
oh, can't a stanza rhyme with syllables without a count?
Not exactly the rhyme of Terza Rima as in The Divine Comedy!
Was Dante a perfect rhymer or an impulsive dreamer...
while his love happily played the lyre?
And did that lyre ever fail Beatrice so refulgent and proud?
Or did lovely Beatrice break the lyre?
Then again, vowels became consonants ironically,
and vowels and consonants all out of idealism;
and stressed and unstressed syllables created a strange idiom...
of consonants and vowels spelling out eccentric idiopathy:
the disease so unknown in literature, not idiocy,
but idiopathy became idiosyncrasy...oh, you figure, reader!
Hatred is a sort of colonisation
It governs the heart
Like colonisation governs a colony
Where freedom is restricted
Love exhausted
Hegemony impudent
And the mind becomes a slave
Chronically angry and frustrated
And so a spiritual release is needed
Maybe through a religion
Or a blessing from God
I run in circles all day long
doing a heap of chores and
getting things done
but I'll tell you what I truly find exhausting.
It's the waiting and not knowing,
it sets me back and slows me down.
It frustrates me to the bitter end.
Instead of multitasking
I end up multimasking
juggling and pretending
to be the patient person
that I'm really not.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Today once again we did not agree,
Utterances of emotional anger exchanged between you and me.
Once again the reason ‘why’ escapes logical thinking,
Drowning in confusion - sinking.
Flowage of streams attempts to come to my eyes,
I say to myself- You promised not to cry.
I feel that I am treated more like a stranger than your lover,
I observe the differences when you are entertained by another.
I regret allowing the grief of what you bring,
I am so depleted of you as I wear this ring.
I believe that my feelings you must devour,
When to your commands and will; I do not cower.
Once again you apologize as I look in your eyes and ponder the question, Can this be?
With tears in my eye I know that there is no more you and me.
@ Tunisia Torres
3/12/2009
Spent energy
No drive
Droopy eyelids
Must revive
Need sleep
Too much to do
Running errands
Losing you
Cradling memories
Yesterday’s past
Sensing distance
Falling fast
Love for life
Children first
Endless devotion
Now we’re cursed
I won’t change
This is me
Lost in a tug of war
Amidst this jubilee
© Stacy Lynn Stiles
The boy with the exhausted wings remains,
the mirror doesn’t show a friend reflected.
Betrayal is predictably effective.
And guilt is carrying all too many names.
The boy with the exhausted wings remains –
and do you know him, son of angels fair?
What happened to the common past you shared –
did you forget, or fail to understand
the healing flowers, walls of tender stone,
the lips, their bruises from the silence peeling?
The bird out of the cage he will be freeing,
but will he resurrect himself, alone?
The bird will fly above the fallen town ahead,
above the dreams of people bleeding slowly
and, knowing that she’s wingless, she’ll be falling
into a soul – as simple as our bread.
The boy with the exhausted wings remains.
His memory to no one he will bare.
The legs of hope are short – and everywhere
she walks upon familiar terrain;
the flame is burning in her fragile hand,
the remnants of the new beginning pour horizons.
And out of every mirror he is rising –
the boy with the exhausted wings, again.
Translated from the Bulgarian by Diana Stefanova
Can't see her coming down my eyes...So
Can I Let This Poem Cry
I can't see her coming down my eyes...So
Can I Let This Poem Cry
ONCE AGAIN ITS ON!!!
Flying into a dream...looking through the
unseen
wondering what i'll do...believing it isn't
you
more of believing...feeling it isn't me... The
one your after
Could it Be...Reality is kicking me in the
rear end
MC...Think Clearly...take a moment and
breathe
there's nothing but wondering...a lot of
speculation... nothing more...
F*** the Poem...Now im crying!!!
Water pooling beneath my feet...dripping
on my speculations
my-self slumped on the rocks...A rocky
revelation...
eating me alive and breaking more than
the ground itself
pain sleeping through the pores..Ice Cold
Body...
wishing to apologize...hypothetically
speaking...
probably to mine for longing for
yours...because if it could speak it would
say
more than it's fair share...to convince me
it isn't right to continue
especially since i don't condone what was
done
despite the fact it didn't involve
me...before it was mentioned
but then again... it did... just not physically
the thought was implanted into the mind
so im trying to be kosher... but im driven
in this crime of faith
now we are here in this thing
in this space sharing time
but how can u face me knowing?
Knowing what u know...keeping such
things..because i know
I know it all...I can see the look when it
comes time to lie
to present your face...your
transparent...Dont need 3-D Vision...Clear
and Present
See I try to become blind sometimes...
You Know...to keep the truth of the matter
hidden from sight...to keep it from myself
so i don't have to deal
with the Infidelity...
Emotionally...Potentially... Physical!!!
Damn!!! I really don't want anymore
pain...Do You Care?
Naw.... you don't... oh wait time out... I
forgot your transparent...
So Let me get this straight... you are still
in love with him...F*** me instead...WOW
Remember you said "If i had the
opportunity to and we weren't together I
would get back together with him"
didn't think i was listening did you?
Do I blame you... Naw Not At All!!!
I blame me for not seeing you sooner
So release me from my pain as I release
you
Underneath all these layers of has been memory within
and should become remembered without
I have nothing left
to late evening evolve me.
An exhausted creaky ghost
of organic chemistry reunions
inside a worn dry and peeling boundary membrane
surrounded by EarthTribe's climate of perpetual
polycultural EarthMother becoming
relentlessly final unvoiced
unchoiced answer
Fluidly disturbing as pulpless onion water
free for nothing but hands to wash
this scent of ghost.
A randomly thoughtless feeling
almost enfolding smell-swell memory
of full-filled time
spatially dynamic
sustaining while straining
refining redefining
ghostly present flowing grace
of former future fine-edged life.
Immortally peeled of all spatial dimension
to be left only with timelessly unbound
reverse of future flowing time
ReMembering a fully unpeeled union,
embryonic promise of a sacred organic space
to recall original impassioned home.
Ghostly identity of unfeeling light
surrounding darker memory powers,
loving unformed organic chemistry,
integrity's unchosen potential
Memory regenerations
reconnecting co-empathic trust,
remembering unpeeled flowing
in and out Othered lust
for more belonging love
than unfelt longing life.
When I am exhausted but not yet ready for bed
I flip myself upside down letting blood come to my head
Inverting myself like a moth, or a bat
Ideas come quickly, all succinct and pat.
When I am tired, I know what to do.
I hang from a limb after I take off a shoe.
The blood comes to my brain and gives me new thought.
It is something I learned by myself, without being taught.
Wishing on a star,
I wanted a car;
But a horse walked by;
Winked its’ big brown eye;
And I had a ride.
The night is late
My horse just ate;
This poem’s sure,
Full of manure.
Still I write
In the night;
Though I’ve not
One thing
To say;
NON.