#frustrating
You wrote novels
A romantic series
And I wrote poetry
Heartbreaking pieces
Two authors of romance
Reading all the sweet stories
The obstacles between lovers
Valuable lessons from plots
We had so much knowledge
A wealth of experience
Yet we were so frustrated
Tossed drafts and dropped projects
Not knowing the proper way
To write back to each other
On how much we missed us
Feb 26
Feb 26, 2026 at 11:44 AM UTC
Why must I always think in verse?
Is it a talent?
More like a curse
All day long songs pour through my head
But before they hit paper, they're usually dead
A few survive, most get archived and others quickly deleteted
It doesn't take more than a couple of lines to know you've been defeated
Aug 1, 2021
Aug 1, 2021 at 2:36 PM UTC
Blessing or curse?
Spoken or verse?
Two pieces of a broken mind,
Searching for the power to find
What she knows is inside her,
The capability-
But in the end it comes
Down to ability,
And she hasn't found it yet-
Her brain is full of detailed worlds,
But how to draw them out?
Some may call it writer's block
But she has writer's drought.
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 1:58 PM UTC
I flew above the horizon
Soar high with the eagles
Flew up high to cross the great sea
With my magnificent wings
I joined the clouds on the skies
I flapped and flapped tirelessly
To reach the paradise
On which I can almost see.
The eagles gracefully flew over the mighty mountain
They reached the other side
They have entered their destination
A beautiful paradise.
It is my turn to ascend like them
I charged, pushed myself higher
But I lost my grace, I hit a tree
I fell down to the dirt
I tried to rise from the ground but I can't
Tried all my might but my wings are broken
I can no longer fly
I can no longer land on paradise.
Jun 2, 2020
Jun 2, 2020 at 11:24 AM UTC
As I stare at blank sheets
To jot down my thoughts
Realize how alone I feel
Only friends are vacant lots
These restraints tighten around my words
Keeping in place
Long to leave their chamber
They're running out of space
I really want company
Singing solo to an empty room
The cage known as my conciousness
Lyrics of honest emotion attempt to bloom
Remembering yet unable to manifest
Moments sliding around mind
My suffering festers in seething sores
Until despair is finally defined
Apr 19, 2020
Apr 19, 2020 at 11:10 AM UTC
i am not
going to
lie
i tried
to find
your socials
but it's like
you don't
even exist
Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 1:23 PM UTC
Sit on the ground
watch the parade march around
go through the whole town
no one notices
that jugglers are choking
and the little kids are smoking
the balloons are deflating
everything escalating
and its so frustrating
but the pills are sedating
Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 6:35 PM UTC
I never fully get a break
From trying to escape
I let loose with my words
But sometimes it never works
I’m never not alone
There’s no place called home
All this pent up frustration
means there’s no vacation
From all these feelings
Dec 25, 2018
Dec 25, 2018 at 9:54 AM UTC
#*shallow heart and a heavy head
the echoes of words we never said
one last time you look at me —then you look away
feels like i am pushed into a night from a sunny day
i can see through you –you're crystal clear
too many emotions to deal with, but there's no fear
you're easy to adore, not easy to hate
too ugly to love, too pretty to disobey
you're the tower i need to climb
i know -you know
but you keep asking me if im fine
obliviously —
you're the one building up the dynamics
a force we dont need
you keep adding up the bricks
the gaze and your subtle tricks
you know -i know*#
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 8:51 AM UTC
I reread something old I never sent you
Begging you to help me fix what we had.
Begging me to let me help you.
But you shut me out. You always have, the more I push the more I try to figure out what’s going on in your mind
The more you pull, the more you retreat, to black corners of your thoughts I’ll never see
You show me songs of love and loss, the woman who spits fire, you tell me to listen to the lyrics and I’ll figure out your hearts true desire.
But your actions speak louder than the words you never did, they scream over speakers in old cars & tire skids.
I am but human.
You leave me with a thousand puzzle pieces, waiting for me to put it together
But the pieces are mixed up, worn, & weathered. Theres smile lines in frowns with tears, there’s hurt and sorrow for so many years. And all I want to do is figure it out. Quench your thirst in this awful drought.
But you could care less it seems.
I get upset. I get frustrated. I lay awake at night. I try to figure out what I can do to make it right what I can do to help you to show you I care and there’s nothing— because at these pieces I stare just trying to put it all together. Just trying to make sense of it all.
I need your help,
I’m so focused on putting you back together my own pieces are starting to fall.
the child inside is still begging you, please. Please.
Talk please, say something, anything
for silence is not the absence of sound but the presence of something else.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 1:44 AM UTC
Looking back on these pages,
I can’t help but see,
this outlet I’m using,
is not helping me.
I used to use poetry,
to clear out my thoughts,
to “pour out the poison”,
when I was distraught.
Lately, however,
it’s changed in some way.
That feeling of peace,
has been replaced with dismay.
I would pour out a rhyme,
and the pain would recede,
but now the water grows deeper,
and I simply can’t breathe.
I look around lately,
and this feels like a dream.
It’s like nothing is real,
just “simulated reality”.
Going through the motions,
but there has to be more,
there has to be substance,
but where is the shore?
How do I stop from drowning,
when I’m creating the waves?
Fighting to stay afloat,
and trying to act brave.
I guess the simple answer is,
is it’s not simple at all.
I have to keep trying,
if I can’t walk then I’ll crawl.
**** all the whining,
the excuses too,
because I’m in this alone,
and I know what to do.
I won’t give up easy,
and if I should fail,
then at least I’ll know I tried,
to open my sail.
So here’s to the future,
and a heart I hope mends,
but even if it doesn’t,
we’re all just stories in the end.
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 12:18 AM UTC
every time
I get the urge
to write I
always find
myself in the
most frustrating
situations
~
like not
finding a pen
and paper
or being
in a conversation
with
somebody important
or being
caught in
the moment
wherein emotions
and thoughts
are flooding
but deciding
to
write
it all for
later
~
but when
I finally put
the courage to
allow my pen
to kiss the
surface
of my paper
it all
goes
away into
the void
of my forgetfulness
~
and of course
ill be in
remorse for
letting
those beautiful thoughts
vanish like
a **********
having done
her job
leaving the
customer
me
on it's own
~
trying to
fathom
what to do
next for
the next few hours
or days
weeks
or years
~
contemplating
about what
when
how
to get
back to the routine
~
so when I
did remember
the same words
that makes
my
brain ******
again
~
I found
myself
in
the same peculiar
position.
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 10:05 PM UTC
A collection of ‘Love is…’ Poetry
Eclipse
Love is frustrating.
Love is confusing.
Love is so hard to say,
When you are so used to losing.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 4:21 PM UTC
The first time I tried strumming strings
I cried and cried
I felt I couldn't get clean.
My friends tell me I need to practice;
find out if I'm a harp or a horn.
But as much as I tried
I ended up torn.
It wasn't wrong to develop an interest,
so I put myself out there, I couldn't rest.
I imagined the jungle, the tundra, the sea
But these different rhythms weren't for me.
I'll never forget when I met the musician.
He showed me a song in his room.
Finally, It washed over me!
Va Va Voom
He showed me his
and he showed me mine.
It was new and confusing,
exotic, frightening
absolutely, perfectly enlightening.
I am full of bass,
brass and strength!
I spent too long
trying to epitomize grace.
He taught me a wild, improvised tune
but I can't remember!
What he played that June.
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 2:04 PM UTC
Chaos among us
It's scary everywhere
It's not gonna change
anytime soon
It's to ****** up
we should have took
control when we had
a chance
Now look at this mess
Government is a joke
It's makes me wonder
what would be different
could there have been peace
Would neighbors be there
for one another
Could we awake with
Smiles on our face
Our food is corrupted
Our lives surveillanced
Are we to late
that is my question
© Jennifer Delong 1/20/19
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 8:01 AM UTC
So very messed up
The cloud's dark grey
Everyone's too tired
Hungry as in package
You're asking around
Maybe there's someone
Wants to share
Nor it will all go wasted
It's just frustrating
This ego is killing
What to wait
It's your call
These eyes met
Went all speechless
Plain and nothing
Again the ego wins
Dec 23, 2017
Dec 23, 2017 at 10:56 AM UTC
“christina”
“teacher?”
“marina"
“anna”. twice.
i’ve only noticed your eyes today.
i’ve worn them for a year.
how interchangeable we are. how replaceable.
maybe if I began to wear
a purple hat or something
people would remember.
Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 6:57 PM UTC
They said it was normal,
Another said it was tragic,
Hearsays and whispers,
Filled with bad endings,
His trembling figure,
Her hopeless stance,
Yet everyone has a say,
In this private dance.
Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 12:28 PM UTC
Most people don't go on traditional dates
They are too afraid to go on blind dates
Too afraid to go on multiple dates
Potential couples fear rejection
So they text each other how they feel
Being spontaneous has lost a lot of meaning
At least it will be a Facebook post
A Facebook post to show status
A Facebook post to brag about seeing someone
Texting can ruin relationships
Texting leads to miscommunications
People rush to put labels on their thing
Because most people are too insecure to not have
some form of security saying that he's mine
I wish I could go back in time
Where dating wasn't a constant battle
A constant battle of showing your interest
While remaining distant enough to avoid suffocating the spark
Where you didn't have to worry about a good morning text
Where if you wanted to talk to someone you would call them
Where it was just you and them and not all your Facebook friends
Whom always put their two cents into where you two should be at
Where relationships weren't built over text and then destroyed in person
Oh how I wish I could go back in time
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 2:11 AM UTC
Everything is happening too late
Wading through pools of anger and hate
Talking to people who can't relate
Patience is gone no time to wait
For me work is not going right
I wonder if it's out of spite
***** should watch out for my bite
This may end up in a fight!
Not really but what can I say
She needs to get out of my way
This isn't the time to play
Wrap it up and have a good day!
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 2:13 PM UTC
How hard can it be? Poetry can break the normal rules, or follow them just the same, or even yet write its own rules. There is no teacher breathing down my neck, holding my grade in a vice. Nobody is forcing me to write these poems, yet I feel compelled to create them.
Ive got so many words to describe just what I want, but somehow none sound right.
I know just what I want to say and who to say it to, but I can't confront these demons.
How can I have all the right words, but put them together all wrong?
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 1:03 AM UTC