Best Stress Poems
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
Upon the arc rises familiar visage of tenebrous dawn
As birdsongs protest, yet another day gone wrong,
In anguish of emptiness thrashing~ stygian, forlorn,
Screaming relentlessly of despondent, indignant void
Blasting his emotions, clasped in poignant thoughts.
Nothingness was the theme of his darkened night
That brazenly shrouded luminance of starlit skies,
As the waxing moon turned pallid, refusing to shine
And benevolence of Venus dolefully uttered a sigh
When dreams, too, acceded to nightmares’ assault.
Life has been a long journey, trekking hills of misery
In hollow pursuit of hope, always despaired trying~
Every forward step of progress unresponsive, lacking
To rescue him from oblivion, from gravity of abyss,
Where silence echoes fear, warning there is no exit.
He knows intimately, she too feels dread of anxiety:
Of ocean-storms unseasonably rushing summer heat,
Parching her delicate notions of blossoming spring,
Of harsh winters encroaching on her autumns fiercely;
Yet, she stands steadfastly, defying the curse of grief.
Prodding goodwill of divinity she tolls bells of harmony
Giving voice and meaning to life’s reassuring feelings
Clamoring for a day to brighten halo of their morning,
Demanding relief; with her clenched fists at the ready…
Forever, if it takes that long, to alter path of destiny.
December 20, 2021
Poem of the day on December 22, 2021
Placed 1st: Pick-A-Title, Vol 27 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title: A Shout Into The Void
Worry eats your energy and robs your peace of mind
It brings about anxiety so you cannot unwind
It takes away your happiness, it steals away your joy
And left unchecked eventually your health it will destroy
So learn to stop the worry as it only serves you harm
And make the time to meditate to find your inner calm
For your mind is the driving force in how you will progress
And so that inner chatter is the thing you must address
Your thoughts can either set you free or keep you chained in fear
So take back all your power and make worry disappear
There’s a party tonight so I bouffe up my hair
Pamper and powder my sweet derrière,
Arrive at the door, all done up to impress.....
Oh man, I forgot! Invite said “fancy dress”!
Pete and Sue are here, seems their theme’s ‘Tarts and Vicars’,
Sue’s skirt’s microscopic! Look at her tiny knickers!
Pete’s in a nun’s habit; the image is scary,
I’ve not seen a nun with a chin that’s THAT hairy!
And there’s Spider-Man! (although I’m perfectly certain,
His cape is made out of his living room curtain),
His curve-hugging costume’s quite “cosy” in size,
I think our friend Spidey gobbled too many flies!
In the corner, a lady has come as Snow White,
Gee, her bosoms are out there, her corset’s so tight,
They look like two bald heads squeezed into a sack,
Glad my hubby’s not here - he’d have a heart attack!
In the hallway, a robot is looking well-oiled -
Her costume’s made out of three rolls of tin foil,
She looks more like a turkey at Christmas, so later,
I really hope no one is tempted to baste her!
By the buffet, Fred Flintstone is looking contrite,
I think he and Wilma are having a fight,
Behaving all “caveman” has got Fred in trouble -
He showed his big man-club to poor Betty Rubble!
There’s a massive man-baby dressed just in a nappy,
The “milk” in his bottle has made him quite happy,
He’s shaking his tooshie and sucking his dummy,
And asking a lady, “can I call you Mummy?”
On the sofa is Princess Fiona from Shrek,
Blimey, Count Dracula’s nibbling her neck,
I avert my eyes to avoid his rising passion,
In walks his wife, and his face turns quite ashen.
His irate wife’s dressed up as pop singer Cher,
In her see through outfit she looks almost bare,
Then she lays into Drac just like Rocky Balboa -
She’s drunk as I skunk, I’m relieved I don’t know her!
Suddenly, Batman bursts through the door,
In his skintight costume - my jaw hits the floor!
He’s so muscular - bulges in all the right places,
If I play my cards right, could be me he embraces!
Well sadly I haven’t a costume of course,
Til I spot a young chappie dressed up as a horse,
I leap on his back - I’m a great improviser -
Strip off and shout “Hey I’m Lady Godiva!”
Collaboration between Jan Allison and the amazing Nina Parmenter
3/17/18
An emperor spoke in poetic verse
Which led to fame for him at first
But after some time, it became a curse
For the Emperor had no prose.
Poetic measure determined his fate
The body politic could not relate
Leaving people in a befuddled state
Yes, the Emperor had no prose.
Seeking solutions from all his wise men
Beseeching them each, again and again
"When will poetic proclivity end?
For I'm the Emperor and have no prose!"
Long and hard, the wise men thought
With no answers to the solutions sought
So they hemmed and hawed, yelled, argued and fought,
Still, the Emperor had no prose.
The Emperor ended his quest in time
No cure for his affliction could he find
Relinquished the throne and became a mime
At least he was able to pose!
"When pain, rage and screams buried in the asylum of your heart start to poison your heart slowly and surreptitiously, you become a living ghost." - Anne Winter
Last night I had a dream,
I was a ghost in an asylum,
So many unheard screams,
Intelligence turned into something dumb and numb.
I looked at me,
Her hair frizzy and frazzled,
The ghost looked back at me,
My hair, soft like silk and dazzled.
My eyes, brimming full of life,
Her hollowness of face,
Her eyes dry like a dull knife,
Just like my hollow heart days.
“What did you do”she screamed,
Glass shattered and clattered at my feet,
Her crumpled ghastly face, tears gleamed,
My lips sealed, my heart scared to beat.
Should I tell her it's not her fault,
But my throat is closed and tight,
“It is”said the tears soaked in salt,
My eyes shrilled “Look for the light”.
She was about to throw glass shards at me,
I woke up before she could do it,
I apologise I couldn't set her free,
My room and bones, dimly lit.
Taste of my tears opened my eyes,
Self neglected, broken one always dies,
Fair or unfair,
It was just a nightmare.
I couldn't understand her, I'm not that deep,
Maybe Sylvia could understand the girl in my sleep,
All I could do was weep,
I couldn't fill the gaps so steep.
The ghost left me howling
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry”,
My heart sinking and drowning,
Her eyes, dull and starry.
Halloween birthdays compare to no other
Preparations begin at the end of summer
Leaves change color, a chill is in the air
Outdoor decorations appear everywhere
Talk of ghosts, goblins and big black cats
Songs about monsters dancing ‘The Mash’
Porch Jack-O-Lanterns grin from ear-to-ear
October 31st every town any given year
Bobbing for apples at Halloween parties
Hayrides to haunted houses to hear scary stories
Witches cast spells on those superstitious
Eating cake, opening presents, all the best wishes
Shadows and full moons... spooky lights
Costumes and candy on ‘Trick-or-Treat’ night
Great celebrations in many fun ways
Halloween is the best time for birthdays
Written October 23, 2015
February-10, 2016 - Birthday Party Contest
By Nayda Ivette Negron
Third Place
November 4, 2015 - Birthday Party Contest
By Kelly Deschler
Second Place
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 verse that's part of me.
They never see the bitter times of stress
my mind goes through for every perfect word:
the hunting down of them to bring success,
so thoughts within my heart can then be heard.
But when I reach the mountaintop, complete
a gem that tells my mind it met the goal,
the stress dissolves into that joy so sweet,
and peace envelopes me, my heart and soul.
Sandra M. Haight
~3rd Place~
Contest: Strand Choice
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 01/27/2020
~2nd Place~
Contest: Bittersweet
Sponsor: Kevin Shaw
Judged: 09/11/2017
You want the truth
There are people out there
That just want to take away your youth
There is nothing we gain
But the fact
We carry around a lot of pain
I beg god please
As I grab the rope
Looking for relief
There is no hope
They say they know the road is long
But you'll turn out to be so strong
I will not fail
I know there will be grief
As my face turns pale
I had no where to go
And no one to call
So I kicked the chair
And let my body fall
We all think he is strong
but he is crumbling
from the things he can't discuss.
His smile is actually his tears,
invisible to your eyes -
drowning him inside.
He is falling,
boulders upon his shoulders,
breaking his bones,
he claims
they are just the burdens of mankind.
He is in a place
he has not been before,
where silence is no saviour,
the voices are too loud -
but he is fighting the confusion
and he can hardly recognise himself,
nor remember who he once was,
but
he is trying,
to remain calm,
to remain horizontal,
but
he is tired,
cold like an autumn tree,
fragile like a winter rose.
He claims his poetry is no proof,
his poems are just pretend,
because he ignores those who reach out.
Unable to accept his vulnerabilities,
he continues to conceal the truth,
because he thinks everything will be fine.
Simple Musing
Silent One
24 March 2019
Lovely foam bath and lots of bubbles
Who knew it would lead to trouble
A luxury for wounded muscles and joints, with quality
An oasis of calm and peace became a comedy
A glass of wine, rose petals and candles
Oh so perfect, naked just wearing my bathing sandals
In five minutes everything was turned into a real mess
My three dogs had a bubble party, all I got was stress
21.08.2017
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Monday Morning Madness
Just because the morning starts
like the morning straight from hell,
and the little one is screaming
and you need a magic spell,
just because you burned the pancakes
and the bacon, well it’s crisp,
do not rant and rave and stutter
or you’ll acquire a nasty lisp!
If your husband’s little habits
drive you batty, do not fret,
but don’t fill his cup with poison;
well, perhaps at least not yet!
If the dog destroyed your curtains
and your mother-in-law is back,
and you hurt your precious pinky
when you tried to nail a tack,
do not turn suicidal
and do not give up, no way!
After all it’s just the morning!
You still have the whole damn day!
holding her head still
she’s offended
her face frozen
expressionless
like she practiced
a thousand times
her teeth clenched
veins popping at her temple
she bites her lip
appalled
enraged
but not a word
poisoned darts
tucked in her pocket
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on June 2, 2020 for contest BRIAN'S SELECT 2 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND
In my countryside, silent at sunset
Long gone is the stress, long gone is the fret,
Long gone is the need to be so wide-eyed
Silent at sunset, in my countryside
Calm now are my skies with their colors bold
Streaks of blue marry with orange and gold,
My mind long gone astray, as the crow flies
With their colors bold, calm now are my skies
Another day ends on my small hometown
It's old, sunbathed bricks now shading brown,
As dusk creeps in corners, silence descends
On my small hometown, another day ends
Down the sun dips behind my shadowed pines
And so easily now my head reclines,
Watching and awaiting some dreamy trips
Behind my shadowed pines, down the sun dips.
No I'm not kidding , believe what I say.
Step behind the orange line and behind it you stay.
Yes, I'll scan your items from six feet away
but stay behind the orange line until its time to pay.
It's not rocket science, there's a pandemic, its real.
You may not believe it , but respect how we feel.
Stay six feet back and yes its a big deal.
We say it continuously , our mantra , our spiel.
Some of you get it and some are just dense.
Some get indignant and really take offense.
But the lines and the barriers to us just make sense.
When you get too close can't you see that we're tense.
Those lines were put there for a reason you see
and it might stay this way for one season or three.
So listen , dear customer, listen to me.
Get behind the orange line or no sale will there be.
26/04/2020