Best Sluggishness Poems
Sloth’s Steaming Sin
Sluggishness slitters solely straightforward
Sedentary survival styles scold, strain
Self-centeredness - sloth’s shinning standard
Squandering silvers… spiritual sprain
July 21,2022 11.31pm
PS Syllable Counter
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 40
Proverbs 19:15
Slothfulness casts into a deep sleep, and an idle person will suffer hunger.
Sin of Sloth
Contest Judged: 8/2/2022 3:20:00 PM
Sponsored by: Margarita Lillico
Place 1 (one of the 8 first placers)
I’m better because,
I’m positive
I build the right frame of mind
I dream big
I’m a believer
I’m benevolent
I’m bold
I’m like the rainbow.
There are
no sinking feelings
sluggishness
back-biting
or retrogresses
Flourish,
Flourishing as the sun shining you daily
Rejoicing as abundant rain watering your fields
and creating some dams
for farming fish and feeding your animals.
You are burgeoning in the eyes
of some lazy folks
who have big mouths
to talk senseless speeches in the streets
and forgetting their arable lands
which are fitting for industrial agriculture.
Flourish,
Oh! Laughing deafeningly sometimes
when I focus on some tête -à-tête debates
Which concern poverty in rich continent like Africa.
Some folks suffering because of some circumstances
and others dependence due to sluggishness.
Flourish,
DRCongo has more billionaire businessmen
and some politicians
who keep their money in their mansions
and banks
in Europe, Asia America and other African countries...
Other rich people hide their money under the grounds
than investing in industrial fishing and agriculture
and infrastructures to uplift
the economy of the Country.
June 23/2023
Written for poetry contest sponsored by
Constance la France
....F WORD CHALLENGE....
As lilac lace conjures softness
as forest's green sparks with life
walk in splendor with one heart
be humble in your fondness - for
sluggishness arises - when love for granted haps
when lilac lace is fading - and the tree spark's dim
life's serenade will whisper - tis not a time to linger
Allow your hearts refreshment - lock your eyes again
seek the continuity - of devotion's tenderness
strike the match demurely - slow burning - more endures
trusting not to numbness - forgiveness enters in
the heavens count for all concerned - it's showers bringing forth
stability - the leveling - of love's maturity
life's passions shared - like petals picked
God's orations loud - kindness - sets the bouquet
His essence wafting in
A cloud like hand
rolls across my cheek,
stealing a moment
as cold fingertips
sear down my back,
freezing the skin they touch,
bringing me away
from my bloodlust,
captivating my curiosity.
Alabaster screens
shift under the moon
hiding the stars
as shadows dance
in the edge of the woods,
another icy caress
slides down my side,
so cold it warms me,
enough to spark the blood
seeping from
the hole in my chest,
cauterizing it
and as the flesh knits together
a face coalesces before me.
Grayish blue eyes
cut into me
and I spread the wound
so they may peer in.
After getting their fill
they move to my eyes
and I notice
the fine lines of her jaw
and her slightly auburn hair
moving around as if caught in a breeze,
but it’s the way
the light plays across
her meticulous fangs
that mesmerize me.
Curved,
almost daintily,
better to hold what she wants,
my flesh craves them to dig in,
and I feel
the fur on my back rise
as I lick my lips
in anticipation.
Her body
begins to take form
as if she stepped out
from behind a curtain
and she stretches
her delicately curved fingers….
preparing….
My mind skips,
freezing me in midstep
and as I shake off my sluggishness
there she is,
arms wrapped around me,
I can see the three quarter moon
reflected in her eyes
and as her fangs graze my neck
I know I’ve found sanctuary.
In the mid 80's, I took a job as a receptionist for a wholesale floral company.
Encased in a glass claustrophobic space, I answered their busy phone lines
as I gazed at the warehouse walls of greenery and the production staff scrambling to fill their daily delivery orders to florists and offices.
The days began early. We punched in at 6:00 am. I arrived in a mind fog,
downing my caffeine until my body's sluggishness wore off. It was a mindless
job and I stayed a mere six weeks at most but during that short window of time there, I had two very prophetic dreams involving co-workers.
The first and less memorable involved one of our delivery drivers. I dreamt that the police had caught him drinking while driving and he was subsequently terminated. About a week later, this dream came to fruition.
The second and must more poignant dream involved Jerry, a young flower
salesman in his late twenties. I dreamt that Jerry had fallen thru a sliding glass door. He was holding the hand of a small child, perhaps two or three years old.
It was very graphic as I saw the shards of broken glass scatter as they hit the floor. With in a few days, Jerry ended up in intensive care after a car accident with his truck. I was extremely rattled by the dream and also concerned about his welfare, although I barely knew him personally. I approached Heather, a secretary there and shared my dream with her. Heater told me that Jerry had been previously married and that he and his former wife had a child that passed at a very young age.
I might be mildly intuitive but I have never had such poignant dreams since that job. Is it plausible that I was being influenced by my green house environment there? Could it be possible that plants have always been open to communicating with us but that we humans remain mostly inattentive to their messages?
August 21 Scripture Meditations Based on Joel 1-2
Key Verses– Joel 1:5 Awake… Joel 2:26 And ye shall eat in plenty, and be satisfied, and praise the name of the LORD your God, that hath dealt wondrously with you: and my people shall never be ashamed.”
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR AWAKING ME
Thank You for awaking me against sins’ lethargic blight
Whenever I sleep restlessly due to guilt-caused might…
Your grace is all I need to face mirror of Your mercy-filled light
Especially in reflecting biblical testimony delight.
Thank You for awaking me against pride’s dream
Whenever I drift along vanity stream…
Your meekness is all I depend on to erase my haughtiness cream
Especially in humbling me to smite arrogant scream.
Thank You for awaking me against ambition’s delusion
Whenever I imagine with great achievement’s illusion…
Your guidance is all I need to combat self-esteem’s pre-occupation
Especially in following Your leading toward heavenly direction.
Thank You for awaking me against slothfulness’ comfort
Whenever I neglect responsibilities with carelessness’ retort…
Your discipline is all I accept to be my best resort
Especially in transforming me for a good report.
Thank You for awaking me against sluggishness’ prevalence
Whenever I indulge in pampering silence…
Your prodding is all I need to correct my indolence
Especially in driving me into diligence-opulence.
Thank You for awaking me against complaints’ drowsiness
Whenever I murmur because of hardship’s heaviness…
Your help is all I ask for to handle challenges with hopefulness
Especially in working through Your wisdom’s effectiveness.
Thank You for awaking me against foolishness’ entanglement
Whenever I clamor for famous worldly accomplishment…
Your Scripture’s truth is all I trust to check my engagement
Especially in bringing me to repentance by Your pardon-fulfillment.
August 21, 2022
Like two sides of a musical drum or a coin,
Each story has two sides; they, ultimately, join;
This applies to the truth of immortality,
Though, physically, this isn't normality...!
As seeds of an apple spring up, though flesh decays,
So too, I hope, human soul lives on for long days;
Flesh-form though dies and mixes with the mud of earth,
Spirit passes to the other world, full of mirth...!
Though none has seen these spirits living anywhere,
Religions assure their existence far, somewhere;
Millions and millions from universe, thus, have gone,
As per the beliefs, to a blessed, sacred zone...!
I imagine, all these staying endlessly, here,
Sure, the very idea causes in me fear;
Is the earth huge enough to hold these creatures, well?
Won't the ones arrive newly find this ill-packed hell...?
Will all resources be available to all?
Won't poverty, hunger and thirst grow stout and tall?
Won't humans, like furious street dogs, for food, fight?
Won't beings, follow the policy: might-is-right...?
There won't be, surely, fear of death, heaven and hell,
Yet, will mundane daily life, flow flawlessly well?
Won't deathless-state, my duties merrily postponed?
Would I, to my commitments to others, respond...?
Fearlessness to death might give me time to complete,
Any task, with depth and dedication concrete;
Yet, won't lethargy and dullness induce my mood?
And, won't endlessness sluggishness within me brood...?
Life should be short; I should enjoy its every stage,
Death should not abruptly call me before old-age;
Yet, will hanging around, here on earth, realize,
My dream of going beyond the limitless skies...???
19 April 2022
If I Were Immortal Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Acid reflux.
Swollen ankles.
Arthritic feet.
Try not to get old.
Extra weight.
Bad teeth.
Unhappy gums.
Stay young as long as you can.
Sluggishness.
Apathy.
Indifference.
Okay, now, people, we’re getting into choices now.
Choose wisely.
If I had my way...that's how this started
how I wanted to compose my latest masterpiece
though in the position I'm in
my thoughts reign weary
as I struggle not to slumber while standing
so I take a seat to distract my bleeding mind
What luck has befallen me this week
safe to say it's all in the wind
Riddle me this: what else can I do to unwind
cancel out the growing cancer called stress
rid myself of the rage rumbling below the surface
purge the persistent pressure upon my shoulders and be myself
but as myself I've exhausted all my options
I'm exhausted but I can never sleep
it waits for the wrong time to strike
with the duration bouncing between hours 2 to 1
creating mire anger I have to unleash
through manner of shouting, mostly at myself
at everyone trying to tell me what I need
Funny thing about what I need
I and only I know what I need
I need everyone to leave me alone, leave me be
all except for five
take me out of the equation and five becomes four
How do I feel today, in love with Esmeralda
and in her regard to her, I still need to construct
construct her a ballad
decorated in purple roses and strawberry fields
a promise I've not completely kept
in contrast to the ballad I gave verbally the other day
How do I feel today
in like, in lust fueled by confusion
with red tinted pink lips belonging to Ally Grey
a confession awaiting expression
only forced by heat and sluggishness
still she's a beauty in tiger skin
never caged but never free
is she even into me
How do I feel today
vulnerable like the song I first shared
with the ears of Sarah sweet Sorceress
vulnerable for consistently letting her in
vulnerable for days I can't control
vulnerable for days I wish to explode
How do I feel today'
breakable so break me out
transform me, glass, into brick
so I don't cave in upon myself so easily
but if forsaken my request is stick dynamite within my skin
end it quickly, only promise to remember me
Remember me, a recent movie I've seen
but did you see this coming
Fin'
Four Letters Spelling Blah...
generally define mine anatomical phooey zook
corporeal status, essentially feeling like gook,
not my usual babbling brook
self, thus finds yours truly whooshing, he
could wave a magic wand (all thee
while exjaculating abra
cud dab bra, or whatever
applicable spell -
spot on - to re:),
vivify mine pathetic sluggishness,
hashtagged with nauseous
tsunami waves, and inxs,
where these nada
so lovely brittle bones,
and atrophied muscles free
quint times this day
feel robbed of lee
ping lemurs (yule
grant me hyperbolic
indulgence) spirited energy
versus experiencing hypersensitivity,
which head toot
hoe soreness analogous
(ache and burn'n ken to
contracting the Amish Flu),
where this jumpy,
manicky, persnickety, rickety,
and totally tubular ancient
tomb mess scent body
finds ordinarily endeavoring
scribe this moment tub bee,
a little horse and bug gee
(in other words), aye
experience over sizeable
(bare ten able) boots
of dizz zee
ness (as if pitched to
and fro on rough sea),
where webbed venting
helps this wordsmith
to sum men strength
tube (boo hoo)
himself from bing nsync
king mode, sans (10,000
leagues...in Dave vee
Jones locker) as a dee
pull lore hubble skidrow re
sid divest news junk kee -
do dilling with zero hap pee
go luck key
ne'er do well bummer, I...he
barely exhibits signs
of life breathe
thing inaudibly inhaling
and exhaling wei
zing all the while
with pronounced je
nais sais quois nasality
emitted racking prithee
moren slight lee
jarring with achy breaky tree
men dose skeletal pain,
thus fuhr re hiss lee,
heavily relying on wing,
and broken prayer hope fool lee
fully helping this
old codger (yepper me)
do magical wonders to re: captcha
lapsed la pas suh zoo lee
infusing this corporeal being i.e.
once again me
with spirited resurgence.
I broke
my proper thumb
within venial borders
a shear from a bygone era
on your
tip of the iceberg
you spread a ruffle in my
bleeding shadows
we steer
the flow
on with the ebb and tideway
cutter with sawtoothed teeth
the scorn
of buoyant tethering
In a state of torpidity
5st PLACE CONTEST WINNER
Written: March 27, 2022
A BRIAN STRAND 1098 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived. ( Poem inspired by Poet Brian Strand Form)
Central air conditioning quickly
found this creature comfort acclimated,
defies, contradicts, bumps uglies...
up against rugged individualist
I meekly profess to idealize
admitting propensity nothing
distinguishable differentiating
all talk no action, no less tolerant
than aversion to extreme heat index
burrowing into sixty degree Fahrenheit
climate control mancave
quite divergent weathering
humid, hot, and hazy
dog days of summer,
when boyhood at 324 Level Road
lacked luxuriating aforestated amenity
first poetic line
introducing anonymous reader
familiar or otherwise
regaling modest literary versatility,
whereby yours truly
dealt with temperatures
registering bajillion degrees,
especially level housing bedrooms
about half dozen steps above landing
suddenly experiencing indisputable
scientific principle hot air rises
undermining ability to function
no more active rather equally inert
as inanimate object
mainly cuz estate complex edifice
formerly christened "Glen Elm"
built approximately half century
preceding incorporating
said modern HVAC conveniences,
no modern building lacks,
plus ability to tolerate hardship
much more omnipresent
before yours truly
racked quite numerous
orbitz round the sun
versus now, when
greater sensitivity prevails,
I admit pioneer spirit plummeted,
and if forced to forego
custom tailored environment
would be immovable prey,
for even the most
harried styled carrion,
which admission would
only present challenge
predicated on severe disruption
compromising being hermetically
sealed, linkedin, cocooned...
within man-made dwelling
hardship analogous no name brand
garden variety slug
essentially homeless snail
shell lacked with mew cuss!
I am on a little stay-cation.
No plans. None.
Melting into my chair, my eyes close.
This is a napping house.
We keep it dark for the TV advantage.
It is easy to not know if it is day or night with our black-out curtains.
I can go back to lull-a-bye land all day long if I want to.
The glory of staying up all night or just way too late is, no one comes here.
This sluggishness and sloth-like behavior is taking a toll.
I am annoyed at my ability to watch six Andy Griffith shows back-to-back.
apathy grows, dread heavy in the heart
laziness lingers on the spirit’s light
sluggishness gestures - cloudy, dimming hope
idleness, lethargy, dark shadow’s plight
Sin of Sloth Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Margarita Lillico
July 9, 2022