Long At my wits end Poems
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Tinnitus tinnitus, innocuous by name,
invisible tasteless, sounds pretty lame,
Ears hissing, snakes inside my head,
Growing louder, causing turmoil in bed,
Room’s spinning, feel like getting sick,
Banging kicks off, rhythmically quick.
Tinnitus tinnitus, pneumatic drillers,
incessant maniacal machine gun killers,
Thumping smashing, trash metal band,
Like rock music, but this I cannot stand,
Eyes are bloodshot, severe lack of sleep,
cacophonous noise, then marching feet.
Tinnitus tinnitus, chainsaws a cutting,
No trees or lumberjacks, I see nothing,
Put on the radio, try drown out noise,
overwhelmed, lose rationale and poise,
Church bells peeling, ringing perhaps,
overloaded, mind spirals into collapse.
Tinnitus tinnitus, curse this living hell,
hammering my face, eyes begin to swell,
Delirious sweating, sheets soaking wet,
overcome in confusion, desperate upset,
Pray to god make the torment go away
release me from this Kafkaesque array.
Tinnitus tinnitus, eardrums explode,
Brain is shattered, as decibels grow,
Can’t take anymore, at my wits end,
On slugs of whiskey, sanity depends,
One after the other, knock them back,
Throbbing numbing starting to relax.
Tinnitus tinnitus, drink myself unconscious,
Wake up next day, agonizingly nauseous,
My ear is on the pillow, bottle’s in pieces,
covered with blood, trembling increases,
Look in the mirror, No no this cannot be,
Vincent Van Gough’s, staring back at me.
By
David Kavanagh
Santa, I do confess
I feel a little bit strange
A middle aged man sitting on your knee
Whispering into your ear, my grandest wish
Let us both hope people do not get the wrong idea here
I am at my wits end Dear Santa
All I want for Christmas
Is for her to call me
So that I may here her voice
Like a musical saga
A symphony of Celtic dreams
The honey that flows deep into my heart
The sweetness that grows in my soul
Am I demanding too much?
Of this earthly world
That I, demand heavenly wishes
That I dream in colors unreal
That I cry for things that seem the impossible
The North Pole and all its promise
Dream
Oh but I must dream, dream or die
No more dreams
Is death for sure
Let me not be murdered
By a phone that rings not
ps
Dear Santa
I am disappointed, no poetry memberships, no phone calls in the night from lovers
No mistletoe even in me dreams, Gaelic winds blow cold over me heart
Id ask for a train set, but the way things are going you’d give me a train wreck
Bloody hell on you Santa, you must be busy helping nice people, cheers anyways
When you see me cry don't be afraid
Sometimes dads emotions overflow
I know you wonder what's going on
There are things we don't want you to know
Perhaps we're wrong to insulate you
As parents we try to do what's right
We wish for you only sunny skies
That's why we try to bathe you in light
The fact that you care it warms my heart
I will tell you what you wish to know
Today you've grown up you are a man
That's a process I don't wish to slow
Sometimes life it can throw us a curve
I lost my job a few days ago
So now I wonder what will I do
I am at my wits end I don't know
Please come to me I can use a hug
It will help me to feel it's okay
In the end I put my faith in God
With his help things will turn out okay
For F.J. Thomas's "To Heal a Heart" contest
Oops I went over by four lines so I know
I'll be disqualified. I still wanted you to read
the poem you inspired.
Winter nights, the darkness comes quick
Key in door, to an empty house
Jacket falls fast right on the floor
I stare at the stand, at the telephone for sure
There she sits, alone, unmoving
No blinking light
No message at all
From a lovers voice or even a call from the mall
The ritual is the same, night after night
I pick up the phone, yes dial tone is there
I check the wires, all attached with great care
Its not broken, same as this morning
I confess, yes I stare at the phone over there
The phone is a functioning, I am assured
I call the weather line, yes a test but I was bored
They tell me is all sunny up over yonder
So no one calls me, of this I must ponder
I confess yes I stare, at the dark phone sitting there
Maybe the answering system parts are malfunctioning
Maybe she really did some exotic oh calling
Oh what I am saying, she’s out to the ball
While I look at telephone, alone in the hall
I confess yes I stare, I stare and stare
So another night, outside shines the bright city lights
I open the door to the darkness in fright
For oh my god, I see a blinking light
My heart beats in excitement, this is surely the night
I stare at a ringing telephone
Oh my what a delight!!!!!!!!
Click
Wrong number
Now I am distressed, depressed, redressed
I am at my wits end I must confess
Another evening I sit here alone
Just me and my silent old black phone
I stare a that contraption then the abscess of the night
Like all of the nights in 2014
I will sleep in a bed, with no hug or ice-cream
The pleasures of life, belong not to me
Me and my phone will never be set free
So now it’s New Years Eve, party hat and good cheer
I sit alone with my phone, to ring in the New Year
Oh the irony yes I did see
For the phone is as silent as the heart inside me
I stare at the past; I stare at the wall
Where I contemplate tossing the phone, cord and all
Then it rings, and shocks me out of my trance
2015 has arrived with a telephone call!!!!! so happy I dance!!!!
Cause this time she called, god bless romance
Happy New Year
When I was young and hearty,
I once sowed a measly seed,
And saw with awe
the paltry seed grow into
a beautiful flowering tree
permeating all around
sweet fragrance
pleasing to the soul.
I likewise sowed
a shiny silver dollar,
And with bated breath
waited to see if it grows
into my dream tree:
A tree with branches of solid silver
and sparkling silver leaves,
It will bear fruits of shiny
gold and silver coins and
make all my dreams
to come true!
With glitters in my eyes,
And overbearing anticipation,
I guarded it day and night,
Nurturing it with my
dreams and aspirations.
But days turned into years
And still I did not see
even a seedling spring forth.
Now old and at my wits' end,
I dug up the coin and held it
in my trembling hand;
"Can I have that, Grandpa?"
The boy asked as he whisked
the coin off my palm.
I stared dumbfounded at him
as he ran to a roadside vendor
and bought an ice cream!
~Abdul Malik
The last hoorah of old man winter 2022?
March twelfth Ded Moroz
struts his white stuff
first real substantial puncheon
found Jack Frost in his glory,
he haint no longer morose nor gruff,
cuz series of fortunate meteorological events
found crystalline precipitation hoary.
I revel watching
the bit torrent of snowflakes alight
upon the greensward;
a cold wind bloweth and doth bite
any exposed flesh of daredevil
(the re:noun Evel Knievel of verbiage)
weather beaten soul
trundling with delight
inured to brutal cold
all fours seasons excite
contemplative character
asked me to ghostwrite,
thus a reasonable rhyme yielded
courtesy wuthering height.
Yours truly breathes deep sigh of relief,
when surprise blizzard came our way,
no matter yours truly solitary fellow
holed up in me mancave yay,
he experiences unfettered glee
for picturesque blustery scene today
eight sleeps before Spring Equinox
glad second rate nor'easter
pummeled Southeastern
Montgomery County, Pennsylvania.
The near future forecast
bodes well nigh arrival of vernal equinox
when the sun crosses celestial equator
in northerly direction, marking
prime meridian of right ascension.
Fanfare for common man
(think das scribe spinning these lines)
grateful timely notion
kindled inside mine noggin
truth be told - before onset of storm,
I drew one blank after another
and felt at my wits end
regard apropos material to write about.
Methought to soon to post
poem about beware the ides of March,
(approximately sixty one
and a half hours hence,
similar explanation regarding
summoning creative literary endeavor
honoring Lá Fhéile Pádraig sona duit,
thus imposed upon figurative shoulders
(mine) to hash out some
marginally passable verse.
Now attention pauses to take look see
out bedroom window
watching medley of gusty air
in sync with blizzard conditions,
yet yours truly snug
as a bug in a rug
despite not turning on the heat,
and would ye believe
bard of Perkiomen Valley
only donned in ma birthday suit?
they've been moments in life when you've felt that you were at your wits end
be it spiritually, financially or physically be it in a relationship with family or friends
tired of whenever you've been blessed the enemy attempts to knock you down
ready to throw in the towel and just fall to the ground
but if you're a disciple of Christ you will come to comprehend
that God will get you through anything from beginning to end
so before you turn to Oprah, Dr. Oz or even Dr. Phil
have a little talk with the Lord God and then just sit still
He might not get there when you want Him but God is always right on time
and He's aware of everything you're going through that's why He's called divine
omnipotent, omnipresent and all knowing with His infinite power
God knows what's happening at any given hour
so are you at your wits end? can you see no way out?
it's time to put your trust in God for in Him there's never any doubt
God knows more about us than we will ever know about ourselves
His knowledge is so infinite and full spiritual wealth
for it was He who created us and it was He who gave us the breath of life
He also gave us the gift that lifted us and freed us from sin with the blood sacrifice
so are you at your wits end? what thoughts are running through your mind?
do you realize that God knows what you're thinking at any given time?
He knows what you will say before the words fall from your lips
He knows what you will do before you do it as it was He who wrote the script
so there's no need to be at your wits end if you're a child of Christ
remember God is watching over you every minute of your life
I once had a plane reservation for 8 o'clock at night
but the lady behind the ticket counter decided to change my flight
I asked her why did she do this? and she said "Reverend you need to comprehend"
that 8pm flight had a 2 hour layover
and the 9pm flight will serve you better in the end
not only did I arrive earlier but she had upgraded me to first class too
I have come to realize that God has a master plan that might better suit you
so no longer am I at my wits end as I've place myself in God's hands
living to praise, living to rejoice by waiting and abiding by His plans
I’m really scared this time Not sure if I’ll make it
Will my wife and the kids Be able to take it
Am I ready to go And meet my Maker?
Or will I go instead And meet the Undertaker?
Did I sin too far? Did I run a ground?
Will I be innocent? Or guilty found?
Questions unanswered Did I truly repent?
Did I fake the funk? Was this life well spent?
Where is my faith? Where is my rock?
Are my cries answered? Are they being blocked?
Am I like David? With a covetous heart?
Am I like Abraham? A liar from the start?
Can I be forgiven? Can I be freed?
Can I live this life? Crucified and in need?
I am not strong No I am so weak
But it is you Lord The one that I seek.
This one last time And this one final prayer
Please forgive my wrongs And don't leave me there
That place set aside For those who forgot
That place full of torment And where worms eat the rot
Breathe life back in me In the bones you have crushed
Hurry to my help Quickly! Do it in a rush!
You know my mind And my thoughts are clear
I can fake others But it's you that I fear
In my soul this moment Anxious and afflicted
Will I make it this time Or in dust be convicted
Forgive me Lord against You I have sinned
Forgive me Lord I’m at my wits end
All I can think with my Head between my legs
And ask for your pardon God please hear me beg
Please remember your Patience and love
Please remove my guilt And finish what you begun
Help me God in my Great distress
Give me another chance God I'll keep my promise
I'll be good this time This time's for real
I will repent of My sin Ill will have more zeal
This morning polished my desk,
Dusted my computer till it shone,
And mentally wiped the cobwebs
From my cluttered brain,
So I could access and obtain,
The words to which I had no title
A while since I penned a poem, now vital.
Alert, and fingers at the ready to type
But what, had no clue, no inspiration,
I tried one, then twice and even thrice,
Became distressed, perspiration
Dripping from neck, pulled my hair back
Into a pony, made a coffee ate a Kitkat,
Tried to concentrate once again.
My waste paper basked filled
My coffee, no sugar and black, spilt,
I was at my wits end, now what do I do.
So get my umbrella and go out in the rain,
I can no longer endure this
No inspiration, no thoughts or ideas pain!
Have to find my cute little muse
Otherwise I’m sure I will blow a fuse!
I spot her having coffee at Tasha’s
I wasn’t wrong she and her pals
Always hung out there,
I beckon that she please come,
Looks at her watch and like Cinderella runs
To my car, losing her shoe,
Her long fair hair bobbing,
And gets in with all her shopping!
Please help me I’m desperate.
I have a deadline to meet,
This contest is just up your street,
We have to draft a poem
Explaining what to do
When inspiration fails us, me or you,
So I’ll leave you on this cool, breezy porch,
With plenty of cookies and a pot of coffee,
And I’m sure very soon we will
Have, an awesome draft, and post a copy!
To Be Submitted in competition: When There Is No Inspiration Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
My pen rights my sins
I can admit my faults
Time and time again
Writing finds me when lost
That’s the fun of it
To lose myself in my pages
If dark then find me lit
By the enchanting words and phrases
I’m embarrassed to admit
Often I don’t think at all
Pink pen seems to vomit
And journal catches it raw
You can read my mahogany mind
Running rabid in the nighttime
Perhaps the best time to create
And escape the world and fate
Music is poetry with sound
Universal is it language like love
Turning smiles from frowns
Perhaps creating turquoise trust
So when I’m at a loss
At my wits end as they say
Music or poetry a toss
To come whisk me to safe place