Best Nerves Poems
My fingers fly fast on the typewriter keys.
I'll leave her a note, my land-lady to please.
We've had some long talks as we wait for our men,
and she doesn't know when she will see hers again.
Mine's coming home and I'm traveling to meet him.
I know he's been hurt, but I'm eager to greet him.
I can't really believe I'll soon be in the sky.
Common sense tells me those big things can't fly.
I'll reveal the secret that he doesn't know,
not a secret much longer, I'm beginning to show.
Cigarette in my hand is burning my fingers
as smoke from the last in small room, still lingers.
I empty full ashtray of butts, some stained red
and look again for lost earring under my bed.
The lone gold earring still lies there with no mate
but my taxi has come, looking for it must wait.
I put my ticket in it as I pick up my purse,
still wondering if I am his wife or his nurse.
I talk to myself as I close and lock door,
reminding myself again, how much I hate war.
It's like a flamin' maze out here
where I'm looking for a name,
where hawthorn hedges line the fences,
and the crossroads look the same.
I'm up and down seems every road;
I've criss-crossed east to west,
as well as going north to south,
where I am cannot be guessed.
I've been through Catani twice,
and three times into Bayles,
so the road and house I'm looking for,
on me mate’s direction fails.
I cannot place just where I am,
with all this wasted time I spent,
then on a crossing close to Caldermeade -
bang! And I'm in an accident.
I was stunned there like a mullet,
with nerves tingling to touch,
I got out to see the damage,
which luckily was nothing much.
Then the fellow in his rusted ute,
stepped out looking pretty grey,
for he'd gone through a give-way sign,
where I had the right of way.
He looked at his car, then mine
with a big sigh of relief,
for there seemed little damage,
were the words of his belief.
So back to the ute he sauntered,
returning with a drink,
saying, “Mate our shattered nerves,
need a steadier I think.”
He handed me the bottle
with the cap on it undone.
I had a drink and then he said,
“Go on you have another one.”
I took a swig and then another,
and me nerves were back on track,
so I handed him the bottle,
and in the ute he put it back.
I said, “You didn't take a drink!”
And he replied to me “I know -
but you can bet that I'll drink plenty
after the coppers go.”
WHEN NERVES AND PULSE CONGEST
Tender are the days brushed with thoughts of light
when yesterday rolling, rolling are the tears...
Jagged nerves and pulse congest in colliding repair,
they... rise to roar beams and rays of medley grace.
Glitters of gold and red cartwheel slow on my face,
I, before filthy shades of earth stand like a knight
to whoever dares, forgetting crime as I fight!
Even to ember flames of days, I... brave to step and chase
for if deep the earths' steep it births you: "my sunshine",
I keep forth to reap a mirth: me being with you.
Black as coal creep, it rebirth night that seeps the signs
but later sun peeps, its smile girths our blues.
To a new life, new day, I faithfully consign
with burning daylight as my sweep leap to have you...
__________________________________________________
***Sponsor rob carmack
Contest Name Screwed IV
~~5th Place~~
Olive Eloisa Guillermo
11:02 pm. April 24, 2015
It was the night of
The first seventh grade
Band concert
I had to play the timpani
For the last song.
I was terrified that
I would mess up
Everybody would hear
Nobody would forget
I looked at the first person
Who came into my mind.
I didn’t know why.
I thought he was irritating
And I’d never thought about him
Before that night.
I guess he had a case of the nerves like me,
Because of the fact that
He
Looked
Back at me.
You want to know what annoyeth me? Let me count the ways!
I could weave a veritable tapestry of all my aggravations, mostly in
light and deep crimson hues which signify the violence in my Heart.
Easily I could write a novel that reads like a laundry list of everything that
vex me to no fathomable End.
Pretentiousness, which is the ultimate Sin of Sins, maddens me more
than mere meager words can describe or accurately articulate. An example, perhaps?
Someone who claims to be a better poet than Shakespeare! Such heinous poetic heresy and blatant blasphemy! ONE WORD: HA!
Let's see...what else? Oh, how I loath- despise! an unannounced and
unexpected visitor, a "knock, knock" that sends shivers, like shards of glass,
down my disturbed spine. Yes, I know all about Jesus. No, I don't want to come to your church but I'll smile, be polite and friendly as I decline the invitation, then send you off on your merry way to pester someone else with your nonsense and throw your "literature" in the trash. I wish I lived in an impregnable fortress surrounded by a moat and guarded by ten-thousand Pinkerton Guards. They never sleep.
Driving, what a bedeviling task! Anyone remember the old video game "Spy Hunter" where your vehicle was equipped with bombs and lasers and such? How I wish my car had a machine gun or rocket-launcher turret to get everyone out of my way! Going too slow? KABOOM! Didn't use your turn signal? Ratta-tat-tat-tat-tat-t-a-t-t...-a...-t. So long, buster!
Bad hair-do's are ALMOST as sinful and unforgivable as pretentiousness. I cannot abide a bad hair-do. It's a good thing I'm not a socio/psychopathic autocrat or I would have anyone with an offensive coif shot on sight. When I was in school and big, poofy Aqua-Net shellac soaked , giant crunchy big bangs were all the rage, I took great delight in smashing those immense, granite-like monstrous and monumental mega-pompadours. Some of those do's were hard as bricks, like they were surrounded and protected by some kind of hair force-field. I demolished many a poof in my youth!
This diatribe is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. I could on and on and on and on and on and on...but I'll trail off here...
*What Annoys You Contest Entry*
JustThatArchaicPoet
Went to treat my nerves
Will come back in the morning
Drunk tender horny
My heart is pounding out of my chest,
I need a minute to catch my breath.
I keep focusing on points of stress,
Rather than seeing myself in a place of rest.
I’m really trying to make this happen,
Make a life out of my passion.
My heart is heavily racing,
Like a horse when it’s racing.
Give me the courage to
Believe that I can make it.
Like monkeys when they,
Swing among the trees.
I want to live free and,
Be all I was meant to be.
Fight the nerves that are
Stopping me from living entirely free.
I’ve worked too hard to quit now,
Being a poet is my life now.
I’m doing what I’m called to do,
I hope it turns into money soon.
Write today and more tomorrow,
But not about my pain and sorrow.
Thumbs wiggling on east wing, backstage
lines skipped like a broken record
with trails of script on hand, sweat poured,
pale rose-in-waiting was I on moist page
Theater brimmed as crowds filled seats, agaped
bright spotlights roamed, my eyes rehearsed the words;
thumbs wiggling on east wing, backstage
lines skipped like a broken record
Panting fast, I tucked wired nerves in head's cage,
that as curtains blew, this name was soon called
recalling to breathe, my flesh was in crazed rage.
Wait! "Clear dry throat; focus on scenes contoured",
Thumbs wiggling on east wing, backstage.
, ,,,,,, ,,
*anxiety experienced before performing
the role of Medea on stage.
* Rondel form: consisting of 13 lines: two quatrains
and a quintet,rhyming as follows: ABba abAB abbaA.
The capital letters are repeats.
Posted under rondeau
for Susan's Wait Contest
19 July 2012
A quiet morning_
broken by rebounding sounds
Exhaust backfiring.
Nerves of Steel
Diana Rigg
Was in an Avenging gig.
As Emma Peal
She had nerves of steel.
A CUPPA TEA
A cuppa tea for my confused cluttered mind,
A cuppa tea to rest and try hard to unwind,
A cuppa tea for our beings to merely cleanse,
A cuppa tea please, I have just been fined!
Tea is universal whatever the flavour,
Thus each cuppa tea has it’s own flavour,
A cuppa tea so welcome after shopping in heels,
Kicking them off in the front hall, a lifesaver!
A cuppa tea is certainly good for fist dates,
Often how people find their soul mates,
Like a starter, gets conversation flowing,
After your cuppa, could find yourself in dire straits!
So whatever the occasion, a cuppa for me,
And for all generations of ladies should be
To watch his eyes, if they follow your curves,
You might need a cuppa to settle your nerves!
the mundane
nerves all ajangle
stomach knots to untangle
that life once well known
is not playing well at home
builds many obtuse angles
dealing with mundane
each day turning out the same
no bomb exploding
weapons which we are loading
reflects life become too tame
too much day to day
preparedness goes astray
need to stay alert
so people do not get hurt
most serious game we play
much of the humdrum
turns nerves into taut snare drums
pounds out the feeling
rockets may some come squealing
pay attention or succumb
In my youth a starring role
as fair Titania in Shakespeare's play.
Learning my lines was my goal.
Remembering them all who could say.
Rehearsals went along at a pace.
Costume donned with pan stick face.
Oberon hissed in my ear.
Before entrance on the stage.
Something about "making it clear".
I looked at him askance,
then threatened with a glance
The director came backstage
with script in hand.
Flicking over each page
said " Titania! You understand?"
The penny dropped.
Oberon's jealous remark.
Hoping I "flopped".
Everything rested.
Being tested.
I.
Nerves in a jar, my life is a mess
I hurt form this world as my poem suggests
Cut from a rose that smells no more
Healing like a dove thats flown shore to shore
What became of our love thats anybodys guess
We forgot about thinking, now about what comes next
Some of the times I will remember more I will forget
It hurts today tommorrow I will give it my best
My head becomes heavy my mind becomes my nest
What to do with all of the love I have here hidden in my vest
Come to my sences my heart in my hand
I think about all of the things that I can
My now today I understand
I can will you the love to better comprehend
From here I wish you the world
The universe a best
Untill you are willing
The person beside me is only a guest
Will I be left here?
My heart beats with fear,
my nerves and sweat smear.
Does he look at me,
should I look to see?
No, then hope might fade.
I want plans I made
to stay as dreams bade.
This process is rude,
hurts one’s attitude,
shows no latitude …
Has he eyed me yet?
Man, my palms are wet.
Wish I were all set.
Please let dreams befall -
Choose me for dodgeball.