Best Nervous Poems
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
quick depression into slow anxiety.
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
swallowing pity of yourself.
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
cold heat shaking your bones.
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
aching brain, twitching veins.
It's the nervous breakdown
with explosive results.
Why the nervous breakdown?
Because too much knowledge provokes me.
Bring the nervous breakdown,
sadistic, painful enticing.
Stop the nervous breakdown,
I cant find my purity.
Hopeless enemies
of ones self slipping
into my mind of cleanliness,
polluting my being, turning
it into an everlasting jungle of mazes
containing horrible truth of
my family, my friends, my country.
I want it back.
I want it back.
I want it back.
My original self,
my starting line,
my old life.
Why has the essence of family tainted
what is theirs to enhance?
My head hurts,
it bubbles with the
honest to god reality
that is my creation.
Still the nervous breakdown,
here only minutes but already
it is acquainted with me.
Now I shall begin life anew
into an anxious depressed, shiny and new.
Old self being.
But if I'm finally used to my new attachment
then
why
does
my
head still hurt?
Nervous from this angry energy
Tendons tight and lungs held steady
Control is what I am
Control this seeping cold
Control this rising anxiety
One day soon this balloon shall pop
You won't want to be here when it does
So run
Run to somewhere that my pain can
not effect you
Whether that be a planet away in the
cloud of drugs or simply the
next state over with a new
lover
Wherever you need to flee I shall not
judge
I only know that you do not want to
be here when this
body floods
nervous scared groom waits
in his eyes bride reflected....
he relaxes smiles
Nervous Bride
Dr. James E. Martin
©May, 2013
Her wedding day was drawing near.
She tried to hide her fear.
The more she tried,
The more she cried.
Would anxiety ever disappear?
Sights and sounds arouse
Looking at what she's cooking
I can't help myself
It was with a heavy heart I left the house, choosing no make-up in anticipation of the tears I might cry.
Being faithfully spiritual, I know the only death is to the body, not to the soul, but this is a child’s funeral.
Even if he is reincarnated, it will not be exactly the same child. It can’t be, because a new body will be issued.
Blonde hair is met and understood differently than brown hair. Amber eyes are met with understanding differently than green eyes. Pink skin is understood differently than caramel skin.
Many times the way people react to you is your appearance, a different appearance commands a
Different reaction, thus, a different response.
“He was a wonderful child,” I tell his mother. Her eyes are blood red from crying. His father and two sets of grandparents are waiting to hear what I have to say about him too.
I told them a little story about how cute he had been when he had tricked me into doing his entire science project. He was a seven-year- old charmer, for sure.
In the middle of my story I burst out laughing because the charmer was standing next to his casket, pretending to pour water on the head lying in the casket. He was wearing blue jeans, a yellow shirt, and he looked exactly like he had before the cancer.
Except happier.
“I laugh when I’m nervous,” I tell the parents. No need to share my illusions.
He ran up and hugged me around the legs right before I exited the church. Then he ran over and gave his grandmother a hug too. She put her arms down as if to pat him.
Our eyes met.
“You’re not the only one who feels him,” she says.
We both smile.
Your Beauty Makes Me Nervous
by M. Griswold
04122020
Your beauty makes me nervous in a very special way.
Speech grows deadly silent for forgetting what to say.
When your eyes meet mine my breath is wisped away.
Your charm holds me captive in dumbfounded display.
Your beauty make me shy in a bashful, sheepish way.
To much the red upon my cheeks, emotions do betray.
When you smile it's as if the night suddenly turns to day.
The warmth of your presents is as a flower turned bouquet.
I don't know how to approach for my shyness does weigh.
So I write this pitiful letter of a nervous heart in dismay.
I dare not believe or think so within my selfishness I pray.
Such beauty as yours would have some time for me someday.
Your beauty makes me nervous in a very beautiful special way.
I lose all that I am within your presents, my heart’s stolen away.
I wish that I wasn't so afraid and be more boldly brave to say,
"Would you come out with me for a cup coffee or tea some day?"
Makes Me Nervous
The busiest highway runs
as usual but alongside it
pin drop silence of death
spreads feathers at Chicken-stalls
makes me nervous.
The caged roosters were
fasting , praying silently
No chatting, no matting,
No smile , no excuse
Makes me nervous.
Not welcome traffic brakes
Stops breaths for once
It will be claim life one of them
No friendship, no break up
Makes me nervous.
The cage which was full of
Lives at the daybreak
Regret it was empty at the dusk.
No right to fight for life or love
Makes me nervous.
The poor creature stare
Every new stops helplessly
To sacrifice his life for taste.
No complain , no desire
Makes me nervous.
A hippopotamus walked the tight rope
Wobbling to and fro he did grope
To find some balance as he peered beneath
The spectators looked like ants in their seats
He tried to convince himself he was not afraid
He counted to ten and then he made
A deal with himself that he would not break
To never show off again and put his life at stake!
sit and listen to the quiet
it's outside the christmas norm
because now, when all is silent
it's the calm before the storm
the kids are upstairs sleeping
you're resting, sitting with a drink
in a few hours ...storms a brewing
it'll push you to the brink
the kids are up and yelling
paper wrapping all around
until the house is empty
no more rest today is found
the kids are outside playing
hockey games out on the drive
you just look around and wonder
if the day you will survive
next, arrive the in-laws
re-gifting what you gave last year
and good old uncle charlie
bee-lining for the beer
bad jokes and boring stories
arguements about the past
snide comments and back handers
how long will this all last
you sneak outside for a quick drink
grab a smoke on the back porch
if it wasn't your house they were in
the whole damn thing you'd torch
phony smiles and airy kisses
and the folks are on their way
the storm is almost over
for another Christmas Day
the kids are in and up in bed
there is silence once again
the calm once more before the storm
tomorrow, your folks come at ten!!!!
Nervous Purvis, why so quirky?
I’m losin’ my hair and the future’s lookin’ murky
Nervous Purvis, why the twisted scowl?
No woody here, just a slim little dowel
Nervous Purvis, why can’t you score?
I’m wearin’ silly drawers and I eat off the floor
Nervous Purvis, why blame it on the Man?
Cuz he’s real bossy and kicks me in the can
Nervous Purvis, why the dirty pants?
I wore ‘em to bed while reading Judith Krantz
Nervous Purvis, why not make a change?
Cuz I like sittin’ pretty and scratchin’ my mange
Nervous Purvis, you could be so much!
Like paying for meals and housing and such?
Nervous Purvis, why the dirty nails?
Been slurpin’ on felch and fillin’ diaper pails
Nervous Purvis, you’ll never fit in!
On with ya, donkus, and wipe off your chin!
Though Nervous...
Yours truly, quite dissimilar
to a woodlark,
nonetheless, this human
i(r)onically positively charged
to forge covalent bond,
hence this stranger
axon impulse to generate,
modulate, and spark...
assimilate virtual digital connection
with mine quark
key aura, charisma,
and karma acquired,
sans "FAKE" trumpeting
assertion tubby Ozark
Mountain Daredevil, I feign
boasting as true mark
Putin on Ritz storyteller wannabe,
incorporated with hallmark
card writer, and thus
feeble attempt to embark
upon eurythmic quest
to facilitate online journey,
wherever the whim
of reciprocity, spontaneity,
and transparency doth
deem reasonable benchmark.
Blatant camaraderie desire
explains rhyme and reason,
(and collusion) if such tactic appealed
within scrunched, highbrowed, and furrowed
forehead this whim congealed,
eyebrows raised with elan to field
said poetic laced metrical pursuit
(grammatically well healed)
unsure what outcome,
(perhaps duff feeted endeavor)
might be revealed!
At deux score away from
attaining Sant Henny yawl
whirl wide aging cobwebs
glom rusty cogs and wheels
of me noggin pine to flip
(the hands of time)
growing old steals
often playing back gauzy past,
where silently musty
Old Virginny hoary memory reels
squeakily turn, yet revisiting,
painful remembrance of things past
only reminds me how this Scottish Matt
got stepped on by many heels.
Numerous unpleasant vivid bro
kin recollections of doomed,
foregone smitten loves flit to and fro
many awkward boyhood infatuations never
broached to secret paramour,
asper this common Joe
forever embossed pretty thang,
penniless and dolorous 1959 minted
baby boomer lass ne'er did know,
probably snickered (out of mine earshot),
a painfully shy lad, who stood
(rather small) apart from status quo
sported nerdy skinny as toothpick physique
encompassing scared kid accumulating woe.
Even at this instant forlorn romantic
notions finds this papa craze
zilly wished courage existed to
whisper "hello" during prepubescent days
for one gull in particular engendered
unstoppable fervent gaze
especially within cat's whisker
visiting her hypnotic gaze
leaving suppressed, locked, and bottled
languishing testosterone
squelched in confusing maze.
I'm nervous and careless, I'm sad and mad.
It'll be what it will be.
Because it is what it is.
Nervous and careless, sad and mad.
My belly tight, it hurts real bad.
My heart beats fast, i feel it in my hand.
The loss in my eyes, like a deer in headlights.
It makes me ill and filled with fright.
This world closing in with unexpected winds,
Twirls and swirls me around, until I the hit ground.
When it's all over is when I'll begin.
There and then i will finally be found.
For now in my present in anxious torture.
I'm nervous about this and careless for that.
I'm sad from the past and mad for the future.
I will face without choice my mistakes.
The storm I won't be able to escape.
It'll be what it will be
And I'll do what i have to do.
But I'm nervous and careless, I'm sad and mad.
Why do I do see all the deeds done bad.
Going on the stage
Slight tremble in the belly
Breathe in. Choke and smile
Pacing the room, waiting,
Stomach in a knot,
Deep breath in and out.