Short Enervated Poems

She did not ire against the fading light
The mystery of death did not perplex
But comforted her enervated soul
As she acquiesced to fate
Her last words extolled the joys of life
And love 
And the sunset...

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Bleary eyes soothe in somnolence of darkness, 
 an enervated sunset dreams in star speckled sky.
Love in dark movie hall, popcorns in wilderness,
a bereavement of light, where shades of gloom  die.






Dated 27th March 2019
4 line writing contest 5 March 2019
Sponsored by Dear Heart...

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I have been so addled
That it is starting to exasperate me
I am enervated
From the lack of knowing
I prance around the words when it comes time to speak
Will they accept me?
The only “girl” in the family
But yet, I am not
They say family is forever
But is that really always the case?
These words burn a fire in my throat...

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The day broke muggy and gray
  Dewdrops sizzle on gooey asphalt
    and burn holes in parched lawns  

Outdoors discriminates not between
  craftsmen's rank sweat and 
    day laborer's grime

Apartment-dwellers' tongues hang
  over their balconies, enervated
    gasping for droplets of air

Hell hath no Furnace like a city
  at the mercy of a heat wave
    without a Fire Escape...

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Something’s under my skin
Afflicting my every breath 
I might lose this conflict
Maybe if I 
Open a window of new breezes
Rattling in my attenuate conscious 
So now I am 
Feverously irascible
At the only creator of myself
The path was lined with nails and pieces of glass
And I collect them along the way 
And spit them far from my heart
Because I’m run out of origin
I am standing in a puddle 
Nearly empty...

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O, the nights we couldn't stop sweating
  the porch no cooler than our rooms
Enervated, we drove down to the lake
  where 'shore patrol' lowered the boom

All those appliances that too often failed
  jalopies that wouldn't start in the cold
Lights flickering with each drop of rain
  all those folks who at 50 were old

Yet this is not what we choose to remember
  'coz memory, thank God, is selective
If not, who would ever reminisce
  over things as they were ~ so defective...

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