Helpless Poems

Helpless

      a ladybug flailing away on her back
        a lad gets a whipping in a shack

     each helpless in his own way…
        to whom and for what do they pray

Helpless in Crisis

in one dream this poet saw a horrific scene
where i was sitting on top of the house
and yet water had reached that high
submerging everything in its way

in the same dream,
i saw a child getting washed away
while his mother screaming for help, ready to jump
to rescue but is held back by others

this poet tried to jump
but

He, so helpless on death

He, so fond of dress--
What not and what must he wear,
Alas failed to stress
Till last but one breath of air
That his shroud was far from fair.
____________________
Tanka |22.07.2025| irony, death

Helpless Winners At The Fair

Helpless Winners At The Fair

Clone Wolf
 Tantrum Rages 
  Leader Of The Pack…

Careless Sycophants  
 Elephantile Contagions
  Self-Defeating Victims. 

The Old Irony Escapes
 Bare-Knuckles
  Modeled, Paling…

Grabbing Artificial
 Pleasure From
Manipulation's
 Freshest Kill.

Your Cheeks Are
 Tender Bloody Sweet
All You Cuddle-
 Yummy Treats!

Your Tribe Awaits
 With A Better Hat And
Sweater - Be-Damned…
 Re-Damned. AGAIN!

Idolizers.

What

Feeling Helpless

My wife has become an insomniac,
during ebon hours she doesn’t sleep.
Like an owl she’s become nocturnal, 
I wish again she was counting sheep.

But dementia does this to a person,
God put us together, she’s in my keep.
All of my days start off the same,
and most days, when alone, I weep.

Echoes of Decrepit Days

As yellow leaves wither in the autumn breeze,
only apathetic thoughts remain 
in this nonchalant existence of 
my diseased body and over the hill mind!

It reminds me a time of agility, 
A time of struggle and celebrations,   
An age when dreams of a better future bloomed,
And leaping up those stairs to pluck the petals

Maturation

I was helpless,
             I was shining.
You were knowing.
	and bestowing.
When my steps were unsteady,
you held my hand.
	You were ready.
Age is just a number, you said
	grinning broadly like a
little girl repeating a loving fib.
           You

Soul of glass

I was a girl with no life 
Or a being with no purpose. 
I had no one compassionate, 
Although my soul was always nervous. 

The life I barely built in those years, 
Came crashing down to a point..my eyes were in tears. 
There was nothing I could do, powerless to intervene, 
Even God didn't care

9 HELPLESS PERSONS BURNED ALIVE BY GARGANO OBSTRUCTION OF JUSTICE BY JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY

NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS TO ME 9 HELPLESS PERSONS PERISHED MOST FROM NO AIR SMOKE FILLED THE BUILDINGS OTHER REACHING FIR HELP WHILE THE BLAZE CAUGHT ON THE PANELING PAISLEY DRAPES APRONS HOUSE DRESSES NYLONS STUCK TO THESE ELDERLY PEOPLE THEY LIVES MEANT ABSOLUTELY NOTHING BECAUSE GARGANO AND HIS BUSINESS PARTNER FIRE CHIEF GENE KALINOWSKI

The Hands That Falter

I'm helpless, helplessly so,
Bound to the weight of mine own woe.
Mine hands do shake, mine limbs do fail,
And every deed is carved in frail.

I wander around aimlessly,
A wretch who doth not wish to be.
Mine fingers break what once stood tall,
Mine lips do lie, mine own to fall.

I tear, I spoil, I set to waste,
I choke

A helpless dream

There was a battle within me
A silent war amidst my own people
 the reason for which I could never understand.
In this conflict I was fighting with myself
driven by an intense longing for something.
Suddenly everything fades away
the fog lifts and I see you in my dreams. Even in that dream I lose you somewhere.
When I couldn’t

The Helpless Heart

Long languid days and sultry nights
Speckled starlight of unreachable heights
Spellbound and I but a traveler be
Cast asunder on a cosmic sea

No sail, no compass, and no course
Rendered helpless by this invisible force
My clamoring heart the only sound
Lost in love and destiny bound

9 helpless persons perished in Christmas day fire

Breathless panting as I sat waiting my abusive ex husband to return from his big job with Ciro Gargano dynamite gas cans golf balls with draino two hand grenades finally dust pans used to pour gasoline around each entrance and exit of the tailor shop after the smoking filled the building the men took racks

Anywhere But Here

The walls close in,
peeling paint whispering stories
I’ve worn too long.
The air clings heavy,
stale as forgotten dreams,
suffocating, soaked in dust.

The clock ticks louder
than the fractures in my chest,
its hands dragging me
through an endless loop of nowhere.
Even the shadows feel stifling,
their jagged edges curling inward,
hungry to swallow me whole.

I’ve dreamt of escape -
to where the sky consumes

Love The Helpless

Love the little ones
They're little fish with no bones
Helpless and hopeless.

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