Best Uncomfortably Poems
"This is dedicated to all who understand this. Whether we like it or not." -D.J.E.
I wasn’t gonna write this
But
Emotions are stirring high
Cannot believe
How much time has passed
Still feel your presence
Memories
Of the slowest death
Ever felt
Running parallel
To these present seconds
An ugly revelation
Tainted the sunshine
That bared on our souls
365 days ago
So many tears
Had filled the ocean
Of despair
For love’s river
Were held back by presumption’s walls
Uncertainty
The dam’s of what could have been
Here I stand
In this present moment
Your essence still lingers
Like the flakes of a dandelion b r e a k i n g f r e e
From its home
Tormented echoes of “why”
“How come”
“Please don’t go”
“I love you…I love you so much”
High pitched resonations
Float upon
Rafts of secondary importance
And yet
This heart still knows
For it will always recall
Its truth
Promises
Empty
Played me a fool
While you held hands
With inevitable
Crossing fingers
With diffusion
Across my shoulders
Left me uncomfortably numb
All my rights
Unreserved
And all the while
I
Simply
Believed
In tomorrow
Because
My foolish hopes
Continued to warp my mind
Maybe if I didn’t look back when you walked away
Like the rules said…
…No matter.
These soft acoustic riffs
Replay in my head
You were my “Wonderwall”
“You could’ve been the one…to save me”
But I overcame
For I
Saved myself
Didn’t want to be an inconvenience for you
Colors of Fall
Your favorite season
Kinda ironic
You were like Summer & Winter
Knew when to turn up the heat
Make me sweat
Each new arrival
A summer equinox
Each departure
A rainstorm
But, when it was over
Nothing but cold
Blizzard languages
Frostbitten
Even solace’s bandages
Could not heal
But, I weathered the storm
And would do it again
Cause it was for real
…
Here I am
52 weeks have past
Occasional recollection
Of that hourglass
With no more sands
Buried in dragon’s chest
You are in my silent prayer
Always
But
Know this
Even though you are contained
Within my heart’s asylum cell block home
I loved you
With all that I had
So much
That you will be the only regret
I will ever be proud of.
© Drake J. Eszes
Often wondering is it a steak upon Our Plates that is important...
Perhaps a Hot-dog instead and more Money for a healing deportment.
To feed a Child that is suffering or very ill and extremely sick.
We ask often comfortably what often makes the wealthy tick?
As We read on The Internet that there are Children out there just wanting Bread.
The Children eating grass is in an Article that was just as this is read...
My Heart torn open,wrenched,concerned and burning with anguish inside.
My Own Home stemless, poor, and uncomfortably We reside...
Wishing We could just reach threw a T.V. Set to give a helping hand...
Just to pass Our Dinner to a child in a taunted hemmed Land.
My passion so large, words so strong, and My Pocket very small.
Never standing in the right position in Life to answer as Children call.
There are Children in Our World that are just eating grass.
Under seemly so by My feelings of disrepair as I pass My Own grasp...
This stench of Many Self willed that preform as Our stanza has not surpassed.
To reach for You now is more then an unbearable weep to comprehend.
A World filling up with Starvation and Our Children in it left to descend.
To reach for You now is an unbearable decision not yet made.
The Children Eating Grass just wore Me thin and They paid.
Sometime wishing I could just rob and empty an entire vault.
That Decision would cost Me greatly so I resort to prayer that will never fault.
To Be trusted with just This Message where I sit and grieve.
When Encounters of Love yet to occur and never to beckon Evil that is deceived.
By Charlene L.Wilcox 09-29-2014
"Streams of Gold, Blazing Andromedas"
Engagement came at a cost
the written word read
and worn like a purple robe
to keep out the cold
stave the hunger off,
feed the soul eveything,
Everything, is what it wants,
silky words like feathers
tickle the closed throat,
the lips open the kisses
like envelopes
eternal sweet plumbs,
like losengers
in a glass swear jar
too many now,
innumerable,
judged and fined,
selected and sucked
unreasonably
for some kind longevity,
the life, for all it's worth,
in treacherous weather,
sometimes flounders,
pauses for a while
looking upwards towards
an empty sky searching
and waiting, for far away lost gods,
then uncomfortably dressed,
the robe, loosened, like a pagan,
the written word read
and worn on the outside
like a purple cross,
the stars glittering in
reflective windows,
the view immeasurable,
the external shell
disgarded and dropped
at the feet of absent minded
causes, the reviews smile
like wolves lost, they're
missing the red hoods,
they're missing
the real treasure,
the deep buried plot
the naked pleasure
of walking away
graces a certain freedom
priceless, like rare diamonds
entwined with diamantes,
who can tell the difference now?
twinkling like blazing andromedas
at the distant edge of their worlds
Engagement locked in at a cost
fresh water pearls
au natural, nothing
false here, the
kintsugi veins glow
lux vitae
in fig leaf stories
a naked life shining,
seen running in
broken streams of gold
the missing Page left opening
marked unopened books,
walks like a lost adventurer
through stories
that arrive on leaves
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Sinking in a sea of Me
I gurgle, choke and bubble
down I go into my depths
into a world of trouble
Immersed in self, I cannot breathe
I'm suffocated so
I writhe and turn uncomfortably
with nowhere else to go
The stifling space inside my brain
gets smaller all the while
until I find a rope to grasp
within another's smile
Once heaved and pulled up, out again
I finally I catch my breath
saved from Myself, a fate I fear
was something worse than death!
We’re monopolized by the Saran-wrapped food,
the plastic cutlery,
absorbed by the clutter of the food tray.
Numbed by hours of jiggling,
the carting of torpid bodies through interminable distance,
we’re wedged now into boredom, uncomfortably numb.
Anesthetized – we fear nothing.
If the aircraft stalls, few will scream.
We’ll keep decanting small bottles of vin de table,
butter buns.
As the aircraft plummets
and drops like a stone to certain death
we’ll still be struggling with condiment sachets,
coffee creamers, with small, molded cruets
oblivious now to anything less important.
She held onto Saturday, with hands calloused and nails bitten
down
to the quick...her eyes saw sunlight and denied it's presence while she rocked, back and
forth, back and forth, to the ticking of a dishonest...
clock.
He told her, in words that cut the air as they fell from a razor sharp tongue, that she
still played the part of the victim, her little girl costumes uncomfortably small, and she
refused to hang herself up, for she had memorized the part and her voice knew
nothing
else.
Her lips parted, still stained with kisses and dripping with the acidic burn of
yesterday's stale tears, and she whispered the truth about choices as she unknowingly lied
to herself
again.
He handed her the script with a brush to her cheek, and she shook her head as life tumbled
viciously around her face, her peripheral vision capturing sight of years long past, and
she informed him that she couldn't read it, she told him she was
scared.
He took her hand and taught her how to smile with the slight tickle of fingers that danced
across a lifeline that posessed trails she was ignoring, he showed her how to not walk
backwards and
the appearance of Sunday if she didn't
trip.
She discovered the moment she was stuck and moved herself beyond the sunset, misty skies
so old that colors had faded and maybe yesterday wasn't as pretty as she thought, maybe
Sunday
didn't lie, and she came to an understanding as she straightened and tossed her sight to
the windows that glimmered with afternoon light...
that glistened with the reflection of twenty years past the weekend and the eyes of a
woman that had seen the formation of a smile
on
Monday.
You’re feeling so uncomfortably
like a lobster lately,
embroiled in hot controversy
Heated debates swirling all around you,
as your deep-fried life
jumps from the frying pan to the boiling pot
Wiping the sweat off your brow,
standing before the microphones
and blazing bright lights burning hot
You feel like
you’re in a
Twilight Red Lobster Zone
You’re catching a lot of heat, catching a lot
Whew! Brother, it’s gotten really hot
You’re so embroiled ...
feels like you being boiled
Boiled alive,
living the lobster life
Scandal and blooper viral feed
has you in a steamy situation
Court cases ... mounting legal fees
Your green onions
are getting a chop-chop
caramelized sensation
Indecent public exposure, tabloid indiscretions ...
Off-the-cuff sound bytes played on a constant loop
Political incorrectness, multiple divorce messes ...
Plus anger management is your new therapy group
You got a slew of problems like a gumbo stew,
so dump your crustacean career in the roiling pot
You’re catching a lot of heat, catching a lot
Whew! Brother, it’s gotten so fiery hot
You’re so embroiled ...
feels like you being boiled
Boiled alive,
living the lobster life
Being served on a buffet platter is so undignified
Is there no way left to go but round?
the scenery uncomfortably familiar
dizzying remorse
exhausted excuses
hoarse from screaming,
I LOVE YOU!
June 9, 2020
What should I write about?
Truth, that is all!
But there is mine,
yours...
and then His of course:
compassion
unbending--
forgiving
unending--
though we are inclined
to weakly compromise;
change only when
uncomfortably pressed;
(having tilted, after being lavishly blessed)
wipe the slate clean
reluctantly, for forced
by self-created
negative circumstance
to heavily lean--
His love is faithful
regardless our fault,
Divine Witness
the crucified Christ.
will I awaken
tears?
struggling, uncomfortably
adjusting to fears:
change - stagnation breeding boredom
acceptance - realization that it's over
Self - knowledge that I must face
truth - she's found another lover....
discheveled droopy drawers
howling down on all fours,
drinking
under table,
walking
though unable, I
vanish
in the wind.
Symbols of the ways
that I have wrongly sinned,
Against my inner portrait
Image with no mirror,
A painted picture of the soul:
UNDESIRABLY SUPERIOR
to the one you primp
and pose for,
for vanity's sake:
take yr daily dose
of annihilistic rape!
Yr outer - woven
cloven hoofs
are worn and swollen
Better take yr beauty sleep
before Time has it stolen...
So wash yr guilty
wants with lie,
and scrub yr yellowish heel,
rinse yr drydrunk unconscious
and tip-toe at the wheel,
weave in
out the traffic
and push the pedals hard,
to erase the dividing lines from memory
without a spoken word...
It was nice to come in from the cold
I ordered my espresso
Sat in the corner by myself
Wanted to read and relax
A man then came and sat
At the table next to me
Uncomfortably close I thought
He took off some layers
Unpacked a bag
It crossed my mind
He may be homeless
He had that look about him
It’s not like I was about to ask
Or engage in conversation
I had not slept all night
Definitely not in any mood
To stir the morning air
It crossed my mind
That I could not imagine
With the oncoming of winter
Being without my home or family
I was no longer in the mood to
Leisurely hang around
I reached to put my coat on
And couldn’t help but notice
The big hole in his left boot
I gasped inside my head
As I nodded and
Gave him a warm smile
Too stunned to do or say anything
I think about him now and then
And how that hole is now
Imprinted in my heart
Read on air by invitation ~ July 7, 2021 'WORDS & MUSIC'
AP: Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2021
When I am honest with my belongings
I am amazed to find that I have surrounded myself
With things that I thought I could not live without
Once upon a time…..
But once upon a time is long gone, and these things
no longer give me joy, or make me happy in any kind of
weird way.
That sparkly spangly pillow I did not think I could live
without two months ago Is uncomfortably hard, and
scrapes my fingers in an unkind way when I accidentally
brush up against it. But here it sits because I did pay
Twenty-three dollars for it, right?
Wrong!
It is going, and so are thousands of other items that
no longer give me joy. I am loading up the truck with
buckets and boxes of insane things when my husband
starts to stroll around the corner. Whisk! He is now
hiding behind the edge of the porch.
He has seen me in this mood many times, and he
always comments that he is surprised I have not
yet hauled him off. I glare at him. Wishing he would
get just a little closer for I am in that mood.
Written: November 11, 2025 for contest by John Anderson.
*****************
It hides behind the tongue,
It rolls up as a puff of fumes,
It just sticks around, you?
Not buried.
Folded, however
as a letter never sent,
folded at the corners
amidst the years.
It thrums in the silence.
amid two individuals
One time, who knew
Speaking sans words.
It is nameless,
Still, it knows yours,
It monitors your activities
Trace the border of your glass
When the room gets too quiet,
A hidden truth
It's not a cage—
It's mirroring
That's just a mirror
when the lights turn off.
It spreads roots
in the gentle earth of recollection,
spinning around
What you had intended to say but didn't.
It discerns your rhythms.
Pausing before reacting—how?
You may always laugh
A little uncomfortably,
Once an individual comes close
It is holding off
Not from evil intent,
still, from loyalty
It was given,
It also remembers
What does that signify?
Perhaps,
It blinks in a dream—
- a visage,
one phrase,
a door you didn't close.
And once you wake
Again, you bear it
akin to a coin
buried inside your jacket,
warmth emanating from your body,
never spent, either.
A Cave Man Day
One day long ago a cave man slept uncomfortably
The brutal sun, good for nothing, woke him up abruptly
Ants crawled all over his body and began to bite
He ate every one of them one by one
Using his fingers and his thumbs as utensils
There was no name for breakfast at the time
Or the creatures who ate his parents
Cave man was all alone and had a simple job
To find more food and stay alive
Fire had just been invented and utilized
This miracle he took with him everywhere
The other 2 gods were sun and water
Fire would be his favorite deity
The man was good at picking berries, consuming plants
All of this at great peril and certainly by chance
They could be poisonous or make him sick
All cave men had to do this to survive and take the risk
He used rocks and sharp ended sticks to take down pray
Skills taught to him by his dad before he died
Cave man was short, stout, mean, with green and jagged teeth
And made his way through Stone Age foliage
He had a bushy beard and scratched it
Wondered what he was looking at… What was that?!
When he met a woman with long legs and tangled hair
She had nice features for a cave girl from that age
He took her by the hair and clubbed her on the head
Dated, copulated and married on the spot
What a lovely wedding day
They moved into a cave
“The Great Riddle”
Humanism became a new religion
in a world where romancing gods
at war sanctifying acts of violence
for their own levels of commandments,
became defunct, monotheism at odds
walked inside the vessels of mortal existence
there also,
inside the great
I am,
an image
lives
and speaks
the sacriligious poet
writing and speaking
listening to others
all the words gone wrong
considering rehoming
after death,
there are many houses...there,
what should gods
and warring religions
matter then?
Inside
the great
I am,
heresies romancing apostates
perilous poets and
all consuming clerics
all made
from the one
image of a man
living life
from the confusing words,
read, written and spoken
sleeping together
uncomfortably
like warring lovers
blanketed under harsh covers
of different books
seeking something sweet
riddles to be answered
by judges after their death
when all do meet
standing around
the communal fire
burning all their books
peace came
to be
upon them
no longer
did they
speak in riddles
a common knowledge
all words transparent
one voice heard
its beating heart succinct,
yet terribly misunderstood,
eventually felt
held
in hands
after death
the Reborn,
eventually
understood
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
"Out of the eater came something to eat,
and out of the strong came something sweet."