Best Impasse Poems


Love Impasse

I am not ashamed to say it—
I revisit you—perhaps because 
you discarded me and you 
meant something to me.

But do I blame?
No—I should have 
seen where there
was an easy exit—
and perhaps it was me 
that discarded 
you.

I am not sure 
of simple things anymore. 

All I am sure of
is that I love you—
and have loved you. 
but I could never give 
you all of me and risk 
it all not knowing to 
whom your heart 
belonged.

Even though
you are silent as death now 
I feel you deeply and 
I feel I mean something  
to you—but my dilemma 
is that I am unsure of 
you and all I know is 
that I inflicted pain
just as I feel pain 
from you. 

And I have done 
what I could to resurrect 
the death between us—
not that a simple talk
could mend what is 
already broken.

Love Impasse

Love Impasse

I am not ashamed to say it—
I trace demons of you in the stars—
perhaps because I cry at your abandon,
for once, you were the riddle in my bones.

But do I blame?
No—I should have known
where our paths split,
where an anxious exit waited slyly—
maybe I, too,
left constellations behind.

I rarely trust
simplicity of things
thanks to your abandon.

All I know is that I Loved you—
and have Loved you
and Love you—
But I could never lay my full self
in the tide of your shifting light,
nor could I assuage the storms
you held so close.

Though you are silent,
your thoughts pervade me
like serpents 
silent as a crypt,
but hissing inwardly…
bleeding inwardly—

your presence in the sky sears me—
I have been woven into 
your tumultuous pulse—
but the question remains:
do you feel the weight of me?

I see where my hands have cut you,
now that I bear the scars you left
just as deeply.

I have searched the ashes and all ends
for something that could spark
what we dismally buried—
a single ember—
a Hell—that
could heat up the crushing cold places
we once deemed Love.

Vice Versas Impasse

Embarking upon another vigilant journey, as ever searching these

Sinuous corridores in sublime; a maxims inverted souvenir; effusions

Waterfalls of wisdom to contest this, their mortuaries enigma....

Craven images incised within marble stones strewn amid the roguery  

Of a silent night; rustic crossing the cold damp earth; its wilted flowers

Unto the mausoleums seminal door; twilights prophet speaking now in

********************************************************

...."Summations Rhymes * 'Vice Versas Impasse?!'" ~


Premium Member Impasse

I am looking for new ways to bedazzle you.
But I am at an impasse  and I can't move.
I feel like a bird with no wings,
Like a ship with no sail,
Like a car with no engine,
Like a swimmer with no water,
Like a runner with no track and field.
In my mind I move my feet but I don't move.
I want to wow you like I once did.
I want you to be in awe of me.
Your approval means the world to me.
I long to see you smile from within.
These words are spoken every day and 
night to a life size mirror on the wall.





Alexis Y. 
5- 8-18
© Alexis Y.  Create an image from this poem.

Vice Versas Impasse

Embarking upon another vigilant journey, as ever searching these

Sinuous corridores in sublime: a maxim's inverted souvenir; effusions

Waterfalls be wisdom to contest this, their mortuaries enigmas....

Craven images incised within marble stones strewn amid the roguery  

Of a silent night ? Rustic crossing the cold damp earth; its wilted flowers

Unto the mausoleum's seminal door: twilight's prophet speaking now in

***************************************************************

...."Summation's Rhymes * 'Vice Versas, Impasse?!'" ~

Impasse

Sun Shines back yard
dark clouds obscures the full moon
cloudy mind foggy vision


Impasse To Contentment Part 1

Just me and mine shadow doth blog
passivity, the path of least resistance oh my dog,
an emphatic YES,
a legitimately valid reason and rhyme to flog
yours truly (figurative emasculation),
thee catchword to hog
immediate attention, 
see above named poem title

the best idea to expound upon,
while attempting creative juices to jog
all mein kampf, I felt like a bump on a log
please... don't be hesitant
to identify me as a nog
one aging long haired pencil neck geek
never reached maturity forever a pollywog.

More clearly, plainly and succinctly
one sniveling poor excuse for masculinity,
I continually experience
unrepentant (unforgivable) humility,
hence lame justification
Matthew Scott sought adultery,

which unwise choice attempted
(pun intended) to fill a void
sexual propensity linkedin with precepts
attributed to Sigmund Freud,
though skepticism skirts

barenaked lady hardcore psychoanalysis
downplayed or Oedipus complex
shrugged off (heavier imposition
versus Atlas) fails to bridge any mettle alloyed
within me psyche.

Absent healthy teenage 
dating experiences, think tryst
I yearned, trended then 
regretted handy dandy wrist
took rat tick antics subsequently,
and compromised spawning prurient dalliances,
hence understandably missed
(until death do me part)

doting upon then young daughters,
rightfully thee eldest one
(born 12/22/1996) still pissed
at primal, gonadal, and brutal predilections
now... finding very little reason to exist
matter of fact I dreamt
(earlier today June twenty seventh
two thousand and twenty), the gist
regarding harming self

Impasse

What force determination drives within
the seeming endlessness of weak despair;
what infinite release from wanting’s wear
on mind and heart still bowed beneath the sin?
What captivates the memory behind
a trace of fingers left, to linger sweet
upon the skin where lives, emotions meet
and in that moment, finds them intertwined?

For strength of will no potency retains,
denial defied by blinding clarity,
and confrontation hails the past’s return:
in unreceptive eyes, sincere remains
illusion, separation guarantee
though outwardly for unity we yearn.

Vice Versas Impasse

Embarking upon another vigilant journey, as ever searching these

Sinuous corridores in sublime; a maxims inverted souvenir; effusions

Waterfalls of wisdom to contest this, their mortuaries enigma....

Craven images incised within marble stones strewn amid the roguery  

Of a silent night; rustic crossing the cold damp earth; its wilted flowers

Unto the mausoleums seminal door; twilights prophet speaking now in

*****************************************************************

...."Summations Rhymes * 'Vice Versas Impasse?!'" ~

Premium Member A Silent Madness

marooned -- unwhole as i am
a piece of me missing
adrift in its emptiness
throbbing in angst

furious at the impending silence
yet clinging to it like i never want it to lift
hovering in limbo -- life being too short
to be caught in this game of catch-22



AP: Honorable Mention 2023

Impasse

I could tell you if I wanted to what makes me what I am but I don't really want to 
and you don't give a damn.

Premium Member Impasse

Painfully shy schoolboy and girl
    break long, awkward silence with small talk.
         The classmates flash sheepish smiles...

         with nervous giggles here and there.
           Both too timid to get to first base,
          to cross the threshold of "I like you"



Bite Size Poem No.16 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
Date written: 08/02/2021

Newest Final Impasse

She would, she says incensed, leave one, in an instant, would 

go miles to the east, miles and miles away from one, 

where one would never, ever "darken her door again".


And she would, she says, her eyes filling suddenly with tears,

"go there for good, never, ever to return, so help [her] God"!


Her "there" is only centimeters away on any road map,

but inside one's breaking heart her "there" might as well be a 

million light years away.

Impasse

The restless lizard climbing on the wall
Can hardly fathom where the end may lie
To his audacious quest, and this is why
He does not know that, in the end, he’ll fall. 

Again he tries but then again he slides
And into cold obscurity he’s thrown. 
Without advice, he cannot grasp alone
What laws the unavoidable betides. 

If only he were told that he should not
Defy his earthly bounds and pose as bird,
He would look neither joyless nor absurd,
And could escape the impasse where he’s caught. 

Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com

Coquetting the Impasse

combustions of black
are the deep splash of flak
in sallow skies,
burning top-contrast

while well behind gates
he impatiently waits,
his Lordship,
clean shaven and stately

and all’s by design
as his entourage dines
on red wine, fine bread,
and the skyline

though debris showers down
covering country and town,
not one gentleman’s
found to be frowning

as they waltz in the ashes
of stock market crashes
our last satellite
snapshot flashes

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