Best Headspace Poems
Heartbeats thumping in rapid unison
Chest hard pressed in his final resting place
The scent of sterile death whelms the toxin
Igniting the ducts in a scarce headspace
A drop on his tongue with a salty trace
Glitters in the blinding fluorescent ray
Each dense breath trickles unused time away
As tears of ire inspire his golden coat
One last moment to share our yesterday
And with that fourteen years have gone afloat
5/13/2016
Categories:
headspace, animal, death, dog, farewell,
Form:
Dizain
A quiet place, to rest one’s bones
by the stream of stepping stones
Water trickles wild mosses grow
and rushes on edge, gently blow
A quiet place, to forget about work
Close ones eyes, escape life’s murk
Feel cooling winds caress our face
and soft moments filling headspace
A quiet place, where time sits still
Lost are troubles amongst the hills
At one with nature, no more cares
and if the world ends, be unaware
A quiet place, has no need for hope
everything fits nicely, here we cope
Seize these minutes to take a break
and enjoy the dream, whilst awake
By David Kavanagh
Categories:
headspace, allusion, peace, simple,
Form:
Rhyme
In my headspace,
deep emotional sorrow-
Restless inner child
Categories:
headspace, child, emotions, sorrow,
Form:
Haiku
TALK AMONGST STONES
if we hadn’t had
that extra drink
at lunchtime
our headspace chefs
would only scream
twice:
(f) off my menu
go talk of your
stones
so we do…
build temples
ancient tabloids
of
triple distilled
distracted
abstract
metaphors
as is prone
word for word
talk amongst
S
T
O
N
E
S
© Kim van Breda—29 October 2015
(with Mal Campbell)
Categories:
headspace, appreciation, for him, imagery,
Form:
Imagism
Fight
I’d fight for you, you know. But I know you aren’t asking that of me. So I’ll be here for you, to fight beside your side if you need me. Because you shouldn’t have to shoulder all this by yourself.
These moments where everything seems like it’s against you. Even your thoughts and emotions. You don’t deserve them.
But they will happen. Especially the latter. Your mind working against you, digging claws into your skin, ready and willing to tear you apart. And what should that matter when you’ve had blood on your own hands before? I won’t tell you pretty words just to brush that under the rug.
You. Dear youngling. Get out of that headspace of yours, get away from whatever is bringing you down. Place your headphones over your head, blast music into your ears. Make art. Rip paper apart. Whatever can get those feelings out without hurting yourself or anyone else.
Listen to me. You are so much more than you know. You are beauty and brains. Kindness and soul. Strength and bravery. Sass and sarcasm. You are not alone. And even if you don’t believe that, look up at the stars that will tell you how not alone you are because you are one with them. Young stardust trying to make its way. Don’t let your mind twist that. Don’t let anyone tell you differently, and that even includes that voice in the back of your head that whispers all those hurtful lies.
Don’t let anyone make you feel inferior. Don’t give up that power to ANYONE.
This moment will pass. You will get through it. You have the means to, you just have to realize it. You have to aim to kill, darling. Silence those bad thoughts. Shut the voices in your head or from others up.
Shoulders back, chin up, take a deep breath, focus, you’ve got this. You are strong, you are a warrior, you can go for the gold, you have bravery running through you, you are bloodthirsty.
Tear down the idea that you are unworthy, not enough, that you can’t be this or that, that you need to lose weight, or change yourself in such extreme ways.
And if you need to stop and take a breath from that fight. Gain some stability. Have a hand to hold. I’m here for you, always. And if you need me to pick up my sword and fight for you or watch your back, you know I will.
I will go down kicking and screaming in the fight for you to break away from these feelings that plague you from time to time if need be.
Categories:
headspace, abuse, grief,
Form:
Free verse
It comes in beta waves,
an electro-magnetic tone
The blu-ray timbre
channel surf creep
in your sleep
Then it’s rapid eye movement gone
This disembodied voice
whispers robo-call suggestively,
“Vote for American czar me”
Saying, cast your ballot
for the hand that turns the screw
Will govern by absentee headspace,
be a virtual
proxy voice for the oligarch few
Reverberated words of coin authoritarian oscillation
soundbyte feed discontent
Promising to Twitter lead,
mint breath blindly,
by jingle radar sense: Foment ability of echolocation
The drifting voice,
grifting in the poll ether,
uses dead president divination
to ruble follow the money
It’s silver tongue got Midas finger talent,
oh so gold digger uncanny
This disembodied Klux voice
utters in dark tone, Klu bigotry:
“Vote cult figuratively
for wannabe dictator me!
I’ll put Democracy,
in a freedom of speech deprivation sleep
Let my electoral lullaby mood of choice
allow the bane of tyranny
to give you a text disenfranchised voice”
The vexatious tone of the disembodied drone
urges every rebel diehard
to ballot gray matter play their trump card
Tho’ most bellow vociferously
To take a chance,
and gamble on chaos longevity
By selecting the Joker
chortling insane asylum policies
You can hear the disembodied voice
in your waking dreams —
Floating lunatic fringe
Ideas
that’ll make you cringe
Categories:
headspace, allusion, imagery, perspective, political,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Blah blah blah blah blah
My eyes glaze over and you don’t notice or care
Blah blah blah blah blah
Permission denied to use my headspace for waste disposal
Blah blah blah blah blah
I keep desperately hoping this will all soon end
Blah blah blah blah blah
How can you live with all that crap building up inside
Infesting every corner of your darkened mind
Looks to me like a puss infected bubbling cauldron
Blah blah blah blah blah
For God’s sake open the window and let some sun in
Blah blah blah blah blah
Let that putrid and rancid air escape
I see your blood pressure escalating
All I can do is shake my head
Your spirit is trapped under that pile of rubbish
Blah blah blah blah blah
Totally impervious to your dire need of an intervention
Overwhelmed with your exponential decline
I don’t know how I can help set you free
You’ll never find your way out
Until you realize your demons are within
And you really do hold the options to free yourself
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Categories:
headspace, friend, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse
Fleeting memories encounter vague enchanted pleasures at the bottom of the minds well.
Their delicate everchanging existence intoxicates the huanted headspace in which they dwell.
Images infiltrate an insatiable conscience where fools invent necessity and cry superficial tears.
Momentary merciless passion commands the heart to kiss fantastical desire with lips that never tell.
Categories:
headspace, angst, fantasy, lost love,
Form:
Narrative
Call it Happiness
I have found the perfect headspace
to molest the keyboard
and make love to old demons
to be labelled and filed away
for another day
the words are still with me
despite feeble attempts
to pacify them
from outside influence
by learning to be comfortable
with the strange paths of desire
by growing further away from
the fragile identity of old
and into a new skin
I can move around in
there is no longer
an obligation to the dead
no impossible virtues
that need to be fed.
Categories:
headspace, desire, emotions, freedom, happiness,
Form:
Free verse
Sitting eyes closed in the darkness
suffocating a soft glow illuminates
thoughts of a chattering mind;
As the chaos feeds on your mind
reveling in the solace of darkness,
you don’t know it illuminates;
Moonlight in a window illuminates
there is prose within your darkness;
A murky headspace I don’t mind;
My darkness illuminates my mind.
Categories:
headspace, dark, emotions, feelings, writing,
Form:
Tritina
I emerge, worn out
from the long hours
that stretched sleepless across
much of the night. The morning
reveals my work, a headspace
of holes dug by the burrowing
machines of thought,
a few scattered bones
and a brain full of junk.
I spend the day repairing
my inner plot, raking over
the holes, reburying the bones
and using the junk to make
a scarecrow I can hang
above my bed. By evening
I'm done.
One morning, when I finally
get a good night's sleep without
being holed by the burrowing
machines of thought
ploughing through my head,
I'll probably wake to find
the buried bones have taken
root and the scarecrow
snuggled up beside me
in my bed.
Categories:
headspace, sleep,
Form:
Free verse
I recognize those dark cynical thoughts
the ones that spin viciously in your headspace
incessant the whirlwind of nightmares
I can feel their every spasm and tremor
we’re two of a kind you and I in the hollow
lightning bolts in the storms of the night
distraught echoes of screams amid the tornado
lost while frustration’s cast madly in every direction
I sense the strained fury of anxiety’s trauma
deep shadows of despair where your anger’s built up
a labyrinth so convoluted electrical currents run amok
the fog haunts a blurred mind that’s muddled and garbled
surprisingly all is not as hopeless as it may appear
if you dare hold on… don’t give up… take my hand
Read on air by invitation ~ May 14, 2021 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: 2nd place 2022, Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on May 12, 2021 for contest ALL YOURS (MAY 14) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
Categories:
headspace, conflict, depression, hurt, longing,
Form:
Free verse
You wake me—well your memory does anyway
on this restless night when the only noise I can hear
belongs to the morose voices occupying my headspace.
You wouldn’t want me to feel this way
but you’re not really here to end this misery.
You can’t fix me—and I wouldn’t want you to
because I’m already with you
nestled in your perished heart
your cold hand intertwined in mine
lying with my shadows suicide
under the sod.
Contest: Grief in 12 lines or less Poetry Contest (3rd place)
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Date Written: April 24, 2021
Categories:
headspace, depression, grave, grief, heartbroken,
Form:
Free verse
STONEFACED
facets of fear
stoneswept
windfaced
as we stepped
into murky
darkening grey
recalling that
day you began
to fade away...
like vapour into
a mental decline
surrealistic
and sublime
tangible terror
overflowed
lunacy replaced
sanity as you
voiced your mind….
bold angels trapped in blocks of ice
labyrinths tangled in whirlwinds slice
insidious moons after sulphurous noons
innocent beasts speaking fluent glib
leaving headspace blindfolded
deafdumb and corroded
visiting that ravaged place
stonefaced
© Kim van Breda—13 October 2015
Categories:
headspace, psychological,
Form:
Rhyme
Immortalized in acrylic before you evaporated
as quickly as the paint dried in the autumn sunset,
you stuck yourself in a frame in my mind’s museum.
Rendered motionless by the inherent
motionlessness
of color on canvas,
your feet propped precariously on
our velvet footstool, you toss glances
from your painted eyes, like roses
from our balcony.
You occupy the headspace above
the headboard, the frame’s edge almost skimming
the ceiling, the hem of your evening gown just missing
the floor.
In this endless expanse of time,
stretching out like a cornfield after a harvest,
I must wait for the autumn sunset.
I sit on my canvas, drying like a corn husk
left in the heat, the water of my life vanishing
into the motionless silence.
Categories:
headspace, autumn, death, longing, love,
Form:
Free verse