Overloaded Poems | Examples

HAPPINESS IN A JAR

As I try to wish away, all the sadness that I feel;
 As if a night sky's falling star, could grant me something  real...
    If only one small wish, of what's eluded me all this life thus far;
         I'd wish for just some happiness, just a little in a jar;
    So I could open as I needed, unload some sadness that I feel
                         Much like unloading bulky freight, 
                         From a trains overloaded boxcar...
          If only I could wish away, all the sadness that I feel,
                              I'd finish this life with certainty 
                            And a soul full of new found zeal...

Jaywalking

This is when the old and the young,
beasts and confraternal drunks
damn the consequences of death
lying porous on crossroads upon
bifurcated paths, fractured junctions
and ceremonial cul-de-sacs...

The time is immaterial,
so long as the traffic lights — the veggie-green,
the claret, and the urine-amber —choose their slow
blinking and rapid-eyelid movement carefully.
And moon might decide not to power its own light.
Tenebrous tracks then fill our eyes with the age of
sea monsters blinded by charcoal waves.
Need I hail the neon signs of bordellos!
And the city’s restless constellations!
They sparkle with rage and with the brio of rioting stars,
thus adding celestial films to our already overloaded eyes....
But that’s another story.

C’mon... we are no Deer or Asahel descendants!
Closely related to sloths, millipedes and snails,
we drag our feet, which in turn drag the volumes of
stupidity in us, aggravated by drams and midnight parties
held between a flowing weekend and a stagnant Thursday.

Road Trip

Overloaded van by
My nutty family!
Passengers, all ages,
Destination Disney
Land, pop songs blaring high
Reached Las Vegas instead!

Dovetail

The angels are overloaded.
And I'm  crying aloud.
In marketplaces.
In new frontiers.
Sobbing incongruously
From station to station.
Losing my past
And letting the present
Run off without me.
I am draining my momentum.
I am lock-jawed behind locked bars
And still I sing like the only dove In town.

ALL FOR ME

IF JESUS DIED ON THE CROSS WHO AM I NOT TO DIE 
IF JESUS WEPT ON THE CROSS WHO AM I NOT TO WEEP 
IF JESUS PASS THROUGH THE GRAVE WHO AM I NOT TO STINK 
IF JESUS WENT THROUGH MY PAINS WHO AM I NOT TO BE PAIN
IF JESUS WENT, TOOK THE LASHES FOR ME WHO AM I NOT TO TAKE THE STROKES
IF JESUS CRIED FOR ME WHO AM I NOT TO CRY 

FOR THIS MY EVERY LIFE HE PAID FOR BEFORE I WAS FORMED 
IF JESUS WENT THROUGH DISGRACE WHO AM I NOT TO BE DISGRACED 
HE WAS PUT TO SHAME, HE WAS MADE LAME, OHH AMAZING GRACE FROM THE ONE WHO WAS TAMED.

IF JESUS CARRIED THE CROSS WHO AM I NOT TO BE OVERLOADED
IF JESUS WORRIED FOR ME WHO AM I NOT TO BE WORRIED 
FOR EVERYTHING OF ME, ON HIM, FOR ME  HE TOOK THE BLAME, FOR IF JESUS COULD PRAY WHO AM I NOT TO PRAY.

HE TOOK MY WORST, FLUSHED THEM AND MADE THEM NEW SONGS.
OH WHAT MEMORIES OF JOY, IN MY LABOURS HE'LL FAVOUR.
WHEN I'M FILLED WITH LUST AND IM NOT SURE IF I'M STILL LOVED, HE WHISPERS MY NAME AND SAYS YOU'RE STILL MINE.

                                 K.OLWENS

A Change Of Scenery

It's amazing what a change of scenery
Can do for our psyche
Our whole outlook on life changes
We see things in a different light
More positive, more accepting of others
And the similarities between us
A break now and then is a must
Clearing cobwebs from our overloaded brains
Without a change of scenery
We muddle through never experiencing
A bright wondrous world out there awaits
A form of therapy I guess you would call it
A time to recharge our tired old batteries
I strongly recommend this break from reality
You'll live a longer happier life
It's amazing what a change of scenery
Can do for your psyche

The Flowers Blooming

Flowers blooming,
people smiling,
everything happening at its best.

The sorrows are gone,
now there's no pawn.
Everything's great and no one's caved.

The brightness is overloaded,
everyone is happy.
Lost the dejection and no one's snappy.

Euphony

EUPHONY

Words can just choose themselves
To be soft and pleasing to the ear
A new kind of respect is deserved
And a place in memory is reserved
Emotions flow as one sheds a tear
Like photos on overloaded shelves

Exile

Exiled from my distant homeland,
Where the days seemed bright,
Nights seemed peaceful and nice,
Where I longed for freedom and dignified life.

With dictators and militia in charge,
Where corruption and killings were at large,
Any opposition voice was crushed, 
Freedom, Oh freedom, was only a dream.

With imminent arrest and execution, 
Fleeing the beloved country was only option,
Somehow escaped incognito thru night wilderness,
Hitched many rides, got transported in boxes and tank containers,
Took wretched overloaded ferries, till I reached a free land.

Now I was a refugee seeking asylum,
Spent time in camps with miserable living conditions,
Finally, after three years, I was granted asylum,
I was free in an unknown world.

Still, I am actively seeking freedom for my homeland folks,
Freedom of speech, and democracy is a precious thing,
We will arouse sentiments of local folks to get their rights,
Do not cry my homeland, one day you will be free.


4/29/23
contest Writing Challenge-Words with "X"
sponsor Constance La France
"EXILE"

Literature and Love

When asked a question to a student of Literature,
He made no move, stood still like a pitiful creature,
All his knowledge and intelligence faded away,
Darkness overloaded, there is no sign of any ray,

Oh, students, so full of youth and fire,
Your minds so quick, your hearts so dire,
But when it comes to Literature, you all sigh,
For love and romance is where your thoughts lie.

Shakespeare and Milton, they bore you to death,
But talk of love, and you'll hold your breath,
You'd rather swoon over words of sweet nothings,
Than, delve into the depths of great literature's workings.

You say you want to be poets and writers,
But all you do is a dream of love's delighters,
You'll never truly master this literary art,
If all you do is stare at your lover's shapely craft.

So go ahead, students, and chase your heart's desire,
But don't be surprised when you're left with nothing but mire,
For love may be grand, but literature is eternal,
And without it, your words will forever be infernal.

Muhammad Shahid Hussain 
19 January, 2023

Sucked In Sun

Midsummer vehemence stows heat for later
        Solar film ominously watch hot arc
        Tilt tracks trajectory, power cater
        Stashes post sizzle to supply light dark


        Socket slit subservient incubates
        Arrow of assurance inserts cable
        Voltage their pairing impressive creates
        Self derived to electric capable


       Autonomy admonished with a switch
       Loins bearing in luxury breed evil
       Informed about squalid impoverished
       Ignore affluent vantage for reprieval
     
       
       Overloaded homes groan under panels
       Tainted rich roads tune rigid channels




                 
                      16th January 
                Wealth rotten wattage

Something Strange

SOMETHING STRANGE

Ground floor of the
Engineering Building,
the elevator shaft wrapped 
in a staircase, the entrance to
each on opposite sides
She was pretty, I thought, in a
blue hair, torn jeans counter-culture
sort of way, California sandals and a
colorful tee shirt, its clever slogans
over bouncing topography, her 
black-rimmed glasses and overloaded
backpack signaling the intent to do 
some serious work
She ignored the stairway, came striding
around to the elevator door, took one
look at me and without missing a beat, 
completed the circuit and fairly fled 
to the stairway like a curious squirrel
that discovered something strange
and then discerned the implications

My loss, I guess
I thought she was pretty!

A Pinch of Spark

Dark, it stays,
Dark , it grows,
Darkness, only I say
Coz, only darkness it shows.

My thoughts though deep
But, I do think dark,
My life had a grip
But, no bright sparks.

The rainbow of joy,
Nevertheless, I saw
But what I enjoy,
No one seems to know.

Those colourful flowers,
Is the only I could smell,
Those unleashed powers ,
Are mine, I could never tell.

Braille for blind,
Gave me sticks to walk,
But, what about that mind,
Which never thinks or talks?

My powers, my strength,
All proved to be dark,
My ability to glance,
Was taken away, with sudden ray of spark.

My life goes dark as clouds,
Overloaded with only blackish dust,
But, still someone calls loud
To say, brightness is for sure and it is must...

~ Akshaya...

The Werewolf

Wreaked with the scent of a wet dog
the werewolf stretched it's neck and howled

to the bloodred moon

Thick red fluid dripped from his long fingernails
the werewolf vented thick steam from his swollen nostrils

in a forest overloaded with pain and fear

Flexing his muscles he knew he was hunted
as he began to dart, jump and dash through the thickets

burning torches shadowed his path

His razor sharp teeth bit down into the hunters necks
he would rip their bodies to pieces

noone kills the werewolf

17 Miles From the Nearest Town

17 Miles From the Nearest Town
David J Walker

Circles of crop row quilts
Displayed from the air 

The flair of a County Fair
Handing out

Blue ribbons 
everywhere 
Cotton lint fills the air 
with Fall 

It was all 
we would know 
For sure in

A Universe of its own making 
Growing 
	Watering holes  
In a burning land

Of gas station taverns and
Brass rows of drop-off 
post office box tops

From a distance you may hear
The bellowing calf 
	Calling for its mother

Or the wheels of an 18-wheeler 
Overloaded on the Farm to Market road

Or the sound of the spigot on the
Center pivot irrigation well

All is well
	17 miles from the nearest
Town

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