Long Irritability Poems
Long Irritability Poems. Below are the most popular long Irritability by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Irritability poems by poem length and keyword.
~Yes, I Know I Won't Be Here Forever~
Sometimes, I just don't realize,
How golden my minutes are.
I sit around and criticize,
Like a hapless drunk in a bar.
Yes, I know I won't be here forever!
The decades, as dreams, swiftly pass,
My irritability gets the best of me.
I complain too much and sass,
Surprised I am not banished to sea.
Yes, I know I won't be here forever!
I never seem to fully appreciate,
That each minute never is coming back.
Time to love and not to berate,
All the beauty God laid in my life's track.
Yes, I know I won't be here forever!
June, 19, 2020
Poem# 1254
6:30pm PST
When I’m not tapped into a music stream.
I like quiet
no - let’s be exact,
I like silence
ear plugs in - deafening quiet
or better yet, noise cancelled anti-sound
That’s relatively new technology
My mom mentioned new studies suggest it may rewire things
gray matter wise, you know, behind the eyes
like the patterns sound forms in sand.
But if you’re going to scramble my mind
your going to have to wait in line behind
bland 21-year-old issues like:
sleep deprivation
hormonal fluctuations
romantic fog
case study competitions
business model design games (REALGAME)
deductive logic puzzles
irritability and mood swings
mental bandwidth anxiety
cognitive confusion
information overload
assignment stress
premenstrual syndrome
compulsive coping mechanisms
career anxiety
sexual frustration
multitasking shifts (schedule)
canon events (existential dilemmas)
culture shock (new environment)
feeling “scrambled”
family pressures
So, yeah. let’s fn Jettison headphone worries - MOM - shall we??!
.
.
Right Now by The Creatures
A Girl In Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing) by Romeo Void
Your Turn to Run by Malaria!
Endowed by the Almighty
gracious provision-source bounty
our orphanage garden’s identity
exudes wondrous natural beauty…
Green-leafy vegetables of health purity
strengthen well-being tenacity
while their buds assure with certainty
palatable veggie salad of nutritious verity…
Flowers cheer with their varied colors, indeed pretty
white angels midst sampaguitas waft their scent’s serenity
rosas de baybayon and red petioles show their dancing faculty
as yellow bells hide amongst peace lilies their petals so dainty…
Gracious orchard offering refreshing security
our “Gardenage*” invites us for lung exercise stability
meeting us with its relaxation bliss availability
serving as haven, rejuvenating care-giving faculty...
'Plantscaped' fortress against attacking irritability
welcoming Bible meditation, upholding faith’s tenacity
nurturing moments for prayer tranquility
our “Gardenage” brings blessings** of God in functional entirety.
*"Gardenage" is the name of our orphanage garden, since we have several gardens encompassing our church’s “Botanical Ministry.”
**Genesis 49:25 …The Almighty, … shall bless thee with blessings…
July 31, 2020
2nd place, "Petal, buds, blossoms, bees, birds, butterflies!" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 8/1/2020.
When disconnected in a deep meditative state.
I feel my soul lighten and align with peace.
From the chaos of trying to appease an insatiable ego who calls itself, Me.
For a few moments, I feel free from a grip that has been depleting good energy, draining me.
I looked to many different sources over the years, searching for this needed relief.
I may have received a moment maybe 2, or 3 of respite from my object thinking.
One thought after another, no space between them.
Though, thoughts will never retreat.
I can, in a matter of speaking, slow them down, by creating space in between.
Space-thinking.
This concept is new, and still unfamiliar to me.
I’ve only ever had a noisy thought after thought, on repeat.
Large loads back-to-back, no separating.
Never finding awareness, or a state of awakening.
Ego oversees the table of fantasy.
Place cards with names assigned to attendees.
I never send out invitations.
The “invited”, were not requested by me.
Ego never invites consciousness, to share plates prepared by clarity.
It only requests restlessness, senselessness, and irritability to eat.
I unknowingly used to go back for seconds, times 3.
Now I am practicing pausing before letting just anything filter and exit through me.
Because I know, I am a vessel for an ego with an Insatiable need.
Who seeks to remove my ability to find truth between reality and lies, it feeds me.
In the past I let this ego fill and sustain me.
Followed by a gullible dessert, that kept trying to play with me.
A craving brought on by old thinking.
Pause, process before ingesting anything.
It’s not worth the toll on your soul.
Or the spirit depleting calories you’ll keep.
Holding onto fast thought thinking will only serve one purpose, keep you empty and in a state of unease.
Eventually turning into disease.
Killing off the entire being.
That you unknowingly kept feeding.
Spiritually suffocating.
I learned the practice of space thinking.
Which is being aware of the stillness in between.
It’s creating present awareness, a feeling of freedom, and a sense of inner peace.
This is what your soul needs to re-charge, from the chaos of object thinking.
Feels like ego deconstructing to be reconstructed.
Simple practice of looking at the sky for a few minutes’ day/night, is a quick release of disconnecting from the ego of me, myself and I.
Work Angst
I wished I had not revealed that part of me
Of who I am, and what feeds my irritability.
Co-workers are so cold and calculating.
They want to see you gone, they think you are acting.
I know that I have my rights and they discriminate.
They also can "find" reasons; to fuel their hate.
They can't fire me; up and down is who I am.
Finding "other reasons" to fire me, they will; if they can.
Stress and depression is my working enemy.
Everyday I wish wasn't so depressing.
This emotion is the revealed part of my life.
Depression is hard, and continues to cause strife.
He doesn’t bleed where I see it.
His wounds live quieter than that~
in the way he paces long after
the day is done,
mind spinning like a ceiling fan
that never quite shuts off.
He carries his hurt in overthinking,
turning small moments into puzzles
he feels responsible for solving.
He carries it in irritability too~
that sharp edge that appears
not because he’s angry,
but because he’s tired
of holding himself together.
Some days he moves through the house
like he’s wrapped in winter—
emotional numbness settling over him
like frost spiders on a windowpane.
I gently tap the glass,
hoping warmth will seep through.
Perfectionism becomes his armor,
each task a shield he polishes
until it gleams just right.
Relaxing feels dangerous,
like setting the armor down
might invite the world
to strike again.
But then in the softest moments~
I see the boy he once was,
the one who learned too early
to be careful with himself.
And I realize
he’s just trying to survive
in the only ways he knows.
And loving him
means noticing the wounds
that never maKE a sound.
Jealousy overcomes me like
an anaconda suffocating my prideful puffed penguin chest
and the thought of your hand running across the skin of someone else is grievous
So uncomfortable, I feel a wave of something wearisome, and it's left a skunky sour taste in my
mouth,
nauseas at the fact that you could look that way.... at someone ELSE
A wave of irritability floods over me like a tsunami of self doubt, I take my aggression out on
myself
curse obscenities to numb the guilt of my defeat in all interpersonal relationship realms
I know that I will never measure up to the standards of perfection, that I have daydreamed up
I feel like a child reaching up to the cookie counter, but I can never manage to reach that
perfection shelf
He found the road long and lonely.
From this seemingly endless trek to monotony,
He wished to enter a world, luminous and exciting;
A world spun in iridescent colors and shades.
He ventured to experiment with life
And in due course slipped into psychedelic pleasures.
As curls of cigarette smoke
Were expelled out from his nostrils
He floated on waves of psychedelic delight.
A buzzing sensation swept across all his nerves.
Overstepping the margins of reason
He slipped into a state of altered reality
Euphoria pulsed through his body from head to foot
Got transported into a fantasy world.
He savored the explosions of joy bubbles
And indulged in strange sensory delights.
The hippie culture cast a magic spell in him.
Fell in love with the insidious drug LSD
And often retreated into an illusory paradise,
With nothing tormenting his body or mind,
Reveling in the bliss of its comforting warmth.
The drug became part of his daily routine.
He experienced moments so surreal
Felt flying, floating and soaring in ether.
Living hallucinogenic, he didn’t know
How to keep himself sane or become light headed,
Without a hit of heroin or cocaine.
He was getting addicted to it day by day.
But the drug was slowly proving chaotic.
The pleasant short term therapeutic outcome of the drug
Was overshadowed by many of its tormenting effects
Exposed to irritability, fatigue, spasms and tremors,
He was becoming a menace to himself and others.
Relying on the drug always to fend off his affliction,
He was like an insect trapped in a web
And a hungry arachnid spinning shackles around him.
Thus, from psychedelic pleasures,
He moved into psychedelic trauma.
Having been on my own
for the past ten years
I suppose I am set in my ways
If I’ve no planned routine
at the start of each day
I just come and I go as I may
Awaking each morn just before dawn
I can go where my mood may take me
Disliking routine I meander free
to come and to go as I please
For now there is no one here except me
with my very own idiosyncrasies
Generally I enjoy my own company
Though from time to time
seeing friends and family
is such an enjoyable treat for me
But to have someone
permanently under my roof
It would drive me insane
send my soul in a whirl
as slowly my mind
and my body unfurl
At this juncture in life
I want peace and tranquillity
No hassle
No stress
No irritability
So when I have guests
I pull out all my best
Spoiling them rotten
as we laugh and we jest
But as the days pass
and our moods start to show
It is time to bid farewell
It is time for them to go
Or frustrations
raise their ugly head
and we may say things
we should not have said
So as the old adage suggests
Familiarity can breed contempt
and living too long
with family and friends
is how a good relationship
may come to an end…
Written 14th September 2019
Contest Strand Select U
Sponsor Brian Strand
3rd Place
Chest pain grips as anxiety fills the room
Or cornered I grasp a resting broom
Neck pain lingers and feelings of doom
Sadness at times fills the house with gloom
Exercising left long ago, enter old age woes
Quadragenarian no more~ whoa!!
Upset stomach, feeling overwhelmed
Energetic no more at forced helmed
No motivation, they've cooked my goose
Change in every part of my body, thoughts abstruse
Emotions ready to explode, anger and irritability
Social withdrawal on downhill side of durability
When a person goes their own way, the choices they make will always have consequences which can sometimes lead to stress with the end results of the above problems.