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Stress Poem
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Anxiety (The Worst Noose In Town)
-- like flooding waters, creeping in
I count 30, seconds, holding my breath again
Drowning in agitation, overwhelmed by fear
I try to hide the pressure in hopes I don't pass out
My pores are soaked, from all the perspiration
I feel the pins and needles pushing in
My skin is ruined from all the peeling
At this point, I can't seem to win
Washed out by dead hope and desire
My soul is lost searching for a shore
leashing, grasping and ripping the chest wide
I count 40, seconds, once nausea can't be blocked
Everything about this moment is driving me mad,
I need to escape, however, my knees are too weak
I tremble while losing control to the emotional distress
My knuckles are pale, detached from reality,
wounds forced with further embarrassment.
Guaranteed failure surrounds my day
Numbness strikes my very essence - I can't move!
Lost in a room,
Therapy - even so I feel singled out
HAPPY VALENTINES (it can get the best of us)
---------------------------- love Linda
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016
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Stress Poem
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I’m tired
I’m Physically and Emotionally tired
I don’t want to be the strong one anymore
I can’t this time
I don’t know what to do Daddy
I need your help down here
I can’t get back in control of my emotions
I’m having a hard time dealing with your absence
I’m having a hard time standing by myself
I need your help Daddy
I’m broken and lost without you Daddy
I need your will to want to carry on
I need your strength to over come this
I need your strength to stay standing
Your courage to fight back again
I need your help
Please Daddy I’m at a loss
How am I suppose to do this
I need your guidance
I need you to guide me back
To whom I was before
I need your help Daddy
I need your help
Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013
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Stress Poem
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A prickly world envelopes
The subtle Emerald skin,
One so delicate as can be scorched
By an Irish morning sun.
Low gulls crying overhead
Keep me idle amongst the reeds,
Eyes wide, sucking in the expanding blue,
Sporadically streaked with white.
Rose dances with Ray
Along the celestial path, and
A blushing glow is born.
Deep breaths.
Salty air caresses and travels
Down into a spongy soul.
Hand to cheek, a rose
Returns to blue, but Ray
Will forever twinkle around
The dusty pink until
The crimson lakes again flourish.
The shriek of wings down the shore
Are now a distant echo. Lids heavy,
The siesta forcing me to sink
Further into the hot sands of the coast.
Light as a feather, eyes dimming,
I see it all as the tide chases me.
Through times of trouble she has guided;
In sadness, she did listen; once again
She draws closer and prepares to lead me
From the woes of the city, the faults of society,
And into a world that is real: the salt of the earth.
I want to swim into unknown, bathe
In the life of her vessel, and have the soothing
Waves wash over me and rid me of the false pretences.
But for now, I will listen to her:
A soothing voice that one must never vex,
Swooshing in and sneaking out.
A light crash of waves against the rocks
Swooshing in, sneaking out;
The drama from days gone by
Swooshing in, sneaking out;
Money and bills swooshing in
“To hell with those” sneaking out;
Swooshing in, sneaking out;
Swooshing in, sneaking out;
Swooshing in, sneaking out;
Swoosh—
Out!
Copyright © Nicola Byrne | Year Posted 2015
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Stress Poem
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The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes. Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.
‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’
Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013
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Stress Poem
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In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.
The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Home behind,
World ahead...
Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Very deep,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...
Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Singing by,
Darkness rising,
Vanishing light,
Hollow flourishing,
Going by,
World ahead,
Home behind...
Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Beyond mountains,
Beyond stones,
Standing strong,
Wandering lost,
World ahead,
Home behind,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...
Copyright © Ruben Alejandro Hernandez Diaz | Year Posted 2013
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Stress Poem
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(please read "Her Masterpiece Is Her Story" before reading the second part. It'll make more sense and probably be more enjoyable!)
The girl who has beautiful scars,
And the boy with marks of strength,
Are now separated by distance,
And that is causing some teenage angst.
The girl wonders how the boy is doing.
Her paintbrush calls her name.
The two can't talk right now,
And she feels she's to blame.
The girl's best friend is lonely,
And she isn't much better.
The only way honesty is revealed,
is through a heart felt letter.
Her scars are fading away,
Everyone knows her secret, so she can't add to the art.
She's wishing she could draw more cuts,
At night the voices in her mind take over her heart.
Her masterpiece is disappearing,
Her artwork is going away.
"What caused you to do this!??!" her family asks.
"I...I hate myself." is all she can say.
She's trying to be okay,
If not for herself then for her friends,
If there's one thing she can't take,
It's their fatal ends.
But she doesn't know how the boy is,
She doesn't know his feeling,
Her mind is going crazy,
Her sanity is reeling.
Since she doesn't know how the boy is doing,
Her anxious mind is filled with worry,
Her demons have told her something.
They're telling her the worst horror story.
Her masterpiece is fading,
I've told you this before.
Her scars are going away,
She wants to make more.
But she doesn't make any.
For the sake of those she loves.
She restrains from her paintbrush.
Even though it fits like a glove.
Her story is continuing,
Her painting isn't dry.
But her canvas is even more,
down upon her thigh.
Maybe she'll erase some drawings.
She's trying to be okay.
She actually doesn't want to get better.
But what am I supposed to say?
Be honest and say she doesn't want that?
Be truthful and say she doesn't care?
Because in her life right now,
Having no motivation? She wouldn't dare!
She misses the life she had before.
She didn't mind hiding her own part of her life.
She would just cope her own way.
She'd cope by using a knife.
Maybe one day she'll draw on an actual paper,
Or paint with an actual paintbrush,
But right now with her anxiety,
She feels that there is no rush.
Don't worry about the girl.
She just cries every night.
But she has to keep going,
Her best friend is in near sight.
It'll be alright everyone,
I'll keep you up to date,
The girl's painting will continue.
If that's the artist's fate.
Copyright © Madison Marie | Year Posted 2013
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Stress Poem
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Stress is starting to overwhelm me;
It’s certainly wearing on my health.
To many stressors all surround me:
Lack of time, lack of wealth,
Adult children always sponging off me…
Are pushing me into early death.
My landlord is not helping;
He’s forcing us to leave.
The mess my children made
Is something nobody would believe.
I’ts too late for cleaning.
I’ll be changing occupations
If interviews go well.
The uncertainty amplifies frustrations…
Certain Purgatory, uncertain Hell.
Hoping for tomorrow,
A better day…
Beg, steal, borrow.
I’m stressed.
I’m stressed!
Help!
Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014
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Stress Poem
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LOVE
God is always love
Forever seek the kingdom;
Praise the creator
Keep giving what you can give
Please endure until the end
ANGELS
Beautiful Heavens
Protecting the meek ones earth
Watching over us
Helping us to cope with life
Comforted with hope and trust
MUSIC
When you find rhythm
You find your hearts inner core
Celebrate the times
Make them better than before
Reminisce and dance all night
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2013
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Stress Poem
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Stress
My hearts pounding
A steady thrum
That's drawing closer
A pain in my chest
With every single breath.
Stress
My hair is falling,
It pulls out in my hands
I cry as it wraps
around my fingers
with every strand.
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2014
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Stress Poem
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The days seem to go by so fast. there is a void in the air, the birds have lost their vibrant beat, the ocean has lost its luster, the soil feels solid and dry.
My soul feels as if it has left my body before my death, my dreams haunt my day, the tears stain my steps, my doctor says that it is depression, I say that it is reality, I am intoxicated by society,I am numb by perscriptions.
Why do I feel so isolated within myself? is there no one in my painfully tight shoes? can anyone understand my pain? can anyone melt in my sorrows? why am I this way? why is the world so cruel? why can't I be normal?
Wait! I am normal, what am I saying, I know now, the veil has been lifted, humanity is my enemy, the sins that drip from their sweat, the dread that follows their shadows, their souls of black, their intentions of greed pull a shade across their eyes.
They are destined for doom, they will not be saved, they will not find salvation, they belittle me, they curse me, they shame me, but they are right about one thing, I am different, unlike them, I will be saved in the last days.
Copyright © stephanie hanvey | Year Posted 2013
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Stress Poem
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A perfect crime.
The paper the victim,
the weapon a pen.
A perfect time.
The thoughts in my head,
a prayer, I say, amen.
A perfect day.
The mood is right,
it is time to begin.
A perfect way.
So I write, Father please,
forgive me for my sin.
A perfect start.
The liquid poison,
slowly kills the page.
A perfect heart.
Slowly breaking,
from all the rage.
A perfect death.
Please go in peace,
Your soul to keep.
A perfect breath.
For it's the last,
please don't weep.
Copyright © Sienna Ethylpen | Year Posted 2013
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Stress Poem
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L-iving in a world of vast
souls formed from
another voided world,
E-ntering thru portals
from their world to earth.
O-ozing spetacular smell
and wail when the chips
are down.
N-urtured from cradle to
adulthood-independent
entity with a new world
to face.
O-rganizes oneself for the
task ahead,passing thru
hurdles of life unabased
and unabashed.
R-eaps the fruit of labor
with joy or heavy heart.
A-ge sets in,mission
accomplished or not will
dawn on the entity.
I-n retrospect,he thinks
about his childhood and
how life was to him.
L-iving in confidence or
shame,he bows his head
in victory or defeat.
O-nly the taste of time
will tell the durability of
his achievements.
V-oid of preference the
aim result bears the
foundation for his lineage.
E-njoyment or lack lies
with the works of the
man,for there is no food
for the slothful.
Y-oung ones,a stitch in
time saves nine,make
haste while the sun
shines.
O-iling your lamb always
like the ten virgins is the
key to success.
U-rging you to shun peer
pressure and focus on
the course marked out
for you by fate,so a
fulfilled life you shall live.
An acrostic for you
Leonora Galinita.
Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013
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Stress Poem
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According to my neighborhood,
(All experts on the topic),
Opinions vary, none too good,
One called it "Catastrophic".
Exterminators sigh, refrain
Condolences, I'm sorry.
At City Hall, they're shocked, exclaim
They have no such Department
To know that squirrels are running wild,
I hear them as they scamper.
An attic is a sacred place,
Secure, not meant to tamper.
Their next move, chewing all the wire
And gnawing through the rafters.
I hear them squeak a vermin's choir
And hear my own crazed laughter.
That life dare heave this final ho,
But agents know thier timelines.
The hours when the house is shown,
Their outdoor play, the best time.
I also left the scheduled due
When freight train horns will pass through.
Gene Bourne
08-26-14
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Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014
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Stress Poem
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I look at the calendar
Check the date and time
My appointment looms
Just three days to go
I light a lavender scented candle
And inhale the soothing scent
It calms my nerves
Only three days to go
I dread the though of the mammogram machine
Squeezing and squashing my breasts
Will my lump turn out to be cancer
Or just a benign cyst
Just three days to go
Just three days to go
And then I may know
Anxiety Contest
Sponsored by Lewis Raynes
02~25~17
I discovered a lump in my breast and my mammogram is on 28th Feb which is
Shrove Tuesday or pancake day. I have to see the humourous side of it … it sure will squash my breasts as flat as pancakes.
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017
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Stress Poem
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The northern skies are turning gray --
Seems the sun just doesn’t linger.
Christmas is just a month away,
And the nights are getting longer.
That Thanksgiving spent with family—
A briefly pleasant holiday—
Was forgotten all too quickly
By pushy crowds on Black Friday.
Our gift checklist seems like old Saint Nick’s,
But our staff is lacking Elves.
Shopping trips cause daily panics.
I wonder how we’ll feed ourselves.
We must buy more decorations,
So the yard looks like it’s snowing.
We fall deeper in depressions
As our credit keeps on growing.
Lord forgive commercialism
For ruining every Christmas.
Lord forgive consumerism
For dumping on us all that stress.
December is a dreary time,
Even when little angels sing.
The irony of Christmas time
Was that Christ was born in the Spring.
While standing in the checkout line,
Remember what the carols told.
Think of how Bethlehem’s star once shined,
As Israel’s prophets foretold.
Think of the awe of the shepherds
When they saw angels fill the air.
Coming to the stable, entered,
To meet the Holy Family there.
Instead of spending all you have,
Next November and December,
Spend time with all of those you love,
And teach them what to remember.
"A Savior born in Bethlehem"
Should bring us joy and happiness;
And “ Peace on Earth, goodwill to men”
Should set us free, not bring us stress.
Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014
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Stress Poem
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Take me back, to good old Rio
Let me lie there in the Sun
Then take a ride to Capo Ferro
Dancing Samba, having fun
And the girls will all be prancing
In the waves along the shore
Eating crab and fish together
That were caught the day before
As my passion starts increasing
Like the heat upon the grill
With all the stress now I'm releasing
I don't miss the northern chill
Take me back to good old Rio
Let me stay there to the end
No yesterdays or tomorrows
The place where night and day, just blends
Take me back.....
Copyright © Jerry T Curtis | Year Posted 2015
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Stress Poem
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Truth, Shines Ever So Brightly
I was once wrapped it teeth and thick fur
ferocious and ghastly beast was me.
I was a bad dog, a wicked little cur
whipping and snapping at every small flea.
One day, the sun burnt my covering hide
and exposed my hideous skin to see.
Such truth, this heart could not abide
stung me ever so sharply like a bee.
Now comes time to hold less as much more
walk a different path free and alone.
Yes, light filtered through that sad door
where my greatest folly was then shown.
I was once wrapped in thick, shiny scales
Now a deep truth destroys those tall tales.
Robert J. Lindley, 1-09-2016
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016
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Stress Poem
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I am Reality’s angel
resting on the broad shoulders of discovery
the truth feeds darkness and engulfs its target
ideas and concepts in turn become meaningless to you
there is a creator of all things
He is just and patient
many still have fallen into the masses of shadow
wrapped in their own filthy idols of philosophy
I have seen grown men fall like rose petals
and weaklings rise into unjust leaders
forever the follower of furtive evil
dominating only to remain inferior
the most important answers lie in the unseen regions
where no sense can fully give assurance
the mind that so many unreasonably twist and turn
grows weary because of the distance it must take
and truth be told the distance is not what frustrates
it is knowing we are seeking something far
that could very possibly not exist,
that our minds can twist into theoretical, idealistic nonsense
it is knowing all we really think we know
is meaningless
and yes—even a lie
all that has been written thus far rests under my wings
under the warmth in which you refuse to feel
can you believe in me—
though I am completely unseen?
how much more difficult would it be to see
Him?
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013
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Stress Poem
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pReMaTuRe AgInG
an older woman and a younger man
are a trix in between
because as his love blooms
he sees himself aging.
_________________________|
penned on august 31, 2014!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014
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Stress Poem
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I have no cause to lie,
my memory is clear.
The night was cool, the moon rising.
Fresh scents from a passing rain captures the air.
My campfire kept me warm from the damp forest,
its light reflecting dancing shadows.
I felt relaxed and calm, stress had fled,
from my world of constant work.
My coffee was now ready when I heard a branch snap,
off to my left'
The furious rustle of branches pierced my ears.
A strong musky stench filled the air, surrounding me.
My heart raced as I stared into the darkness,
trying to see what had came near my camp.
I was alone, fire my only defense, but from what?
A sound, a low bellowing sound,
cracked the foundations of my belief.
A beast nine feet tall appeared from the thick bush
and stood quietly still.
I had no where to run or hide.
The beast consumed the space in front of my eyes.
It walked towards me hands out, palms up.
I was confused,disoriented, frightened,
until I saw from the crackling flames,
porcupine quills.
The pain in its eyes burned into me, crying out for help.
I reached over and calmly pulled each one out,
lifting me eyes to its face each time.
It seems I heard a low rumble that sounded like relief.
This beast, this huge beast looked down on me.
The silence could have sliced through ice.
It suddenly turned and walked away.
leaving me trembling with a fire and shadows.
I slowly picked up my cup of coffee,
still looking into the bush, still frightened.
My legs stop quivering as I sat on a log,
next to my fire and smiled,
knowing no one would believe me.
4/16/15
Frederic Parker
Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2015
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Stress Poem
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How can one express the baffling depths of obscurity?
How can one behold to open the shafts of the mind?
I have never been able to solve the mystery—
Of myself. . .
I wish at times that my life was no more
That I could live as another and finally see things right
But I am always stuck in this darkness
And I cannot see this mind in light
There are beasts. . .demons prowling through the wasteland
Searching for any remaining life
And if they are ever found—
They are doomed and consumed
Fear is their downfall and they never fail to smell it
Their ashes remain, dancing with the imaginary breeze
It is silent here—there are no answers
I wish there were answers. . .
But maybe there was never a reason
No answers. . .
Talons extend and clench around my heart
They will never seek me out—they left me here
It is like they knew…I had no reason—that was the answer
I feel the pulse of my dangling life
Alone in the dark, whimpering like a child
I have scared myself, becoming this dragon-daggered youth
No balm in Gilead!
No eyes to see
All I know will never be free
I don’t need anyone!
You are a disgrace—scum of the waste!
You have everything, you ungrateful little nothing
You are a joke. . .
So swallow it all up like the pushover you are
Stand your lowest and trudge right through
No questions. No answers. Just . You.
Or just lie back down into the mush of disease
It has already infected you to the core
Accept who you are, you ugly pestilence!
I hate you
Who are you to be glorified?
Dream snatcher. . .murderer of all things bright
Saturated in what you call light
I see right through—even as the reflections shatter
All of the dead kept you alive—they all matter…
But alive you are the worst there is
False savior—edited attention whore
I never want to see your face again
See, that’s why I hide. . .
Desperation. . .desperation. . .
I sob and cry kneeling in defeat
For once I am right. . .I am right
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013
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Stress Poem
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The grey oppresses;
surrounded by fog,
I traverse this shadowland;
Dorothy in reverse,
stuck in this land of monochrome
Xerox grayscale in 2-D.
Hoping it is but a dream,
valiantly, I stroke in Technicolor
Only to see it erased, again
It is no more real than the specters
haunting my thoughts.
Still I stumble around searching;
hues of hope hover out of reach
as these low-lying clouds
cast a pall-- blinding me to joy.
Perhaps, I'm trapped
in Tim Burton's sketch board;
these monoliths of grotesque
caricature evidence such.
At every turn there is a new one,
popping out of the mists.
Large, unmoving blocks of black granite
ring me like Stonehenge-- surrounded--
Leaving me wandering this maze of dark surrealism.
Glimpses of color reveal themselves
in the distance through the shroud,
ephemera teasing my senses.
Blow! benign zephyrs;
sweep away the haze
invading my peace.
Rescue me the confines
of my self-induced prison.
Let me walk in daylight, once again.
Copyright © Jaycee Cervenka | Year Posted 2015
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Stress Poem
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You tug and bend at the chains weighing down,
struggling to even make one small dent.
You try to burn the chains that have you bound,
but to no avail... Not one link is bent.
Cruelty and sadism are expressed here,
in the holder of the chains who you'd trust;
and those close-by strive to halt painful tears,
but the chains make it all a complete bust.
The chains hold strong from the mind to the source,
causing loneliness to fill the bruised heart.
Nothing right now withers those chains of course,
but nothing is free from breaking apart.
If all else fails and no progress is made,
just give those tough chains time to rust and fade.
Copyright © Veronica Capo | Year Posted 2015
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Stress Poem
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Listen to poem:
Bittersweet
So bittersweet, is this creative art
of writing thoughts through words of poetry.
So many say how peaceful is my heart
that it can shape a poem that's part of me.
They never see the bitter times of stress
my mind goes through for just one simple word;
the hunting down of it to bring success
where voice of heart and soul can then be heard.
Sometimes the torment really does take hold;
it hurts so bad...so why do I do it?
There is no choice, you see I am controlled
by love of words, deep passion to commit.
The journey is a conquest start to end;
I cannot walk away once I've begun.
At times, the quest presents a gift well-penned
or sleepless night when pushed aside undone.
So bittersweet...you say, how can this be
that, things like writing words can rule my heart...
I have no answer, it's a mystery...
the power of this gift, creative art.
But when I reach the mountain top...complete
a gem that tells my mind it met the goal
the stress dissolves into a joy so sweet,
and peace envelopes me, my heart and soul.
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Contest: If It Hurts So Bad, Why Do We Do It?
Sponsor: Silent One
Judged: 06/23/2016
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016
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Stress Poem
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Many years have passed me here
Sitting on this old mat
Like a speeding train
None of who have passed, never looked back
The rising sun
Has chased away the morning dew
And many time I wondered
Why my friends are so few
Hot days give way to the evening mist
Who will be by companion tonight?
I dread when the evening cometh
The wild dogs and I will fight again
Copyright © Dennis Williams | Year Posted 2015
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