"desparate" poems
Isn’t is strange how we notice things when it is too late?
This is probably the last time that all of us will be in the car together. There will be no more midnight drives from hillside theatres. No more 2am dinner plans at kerbey lane.
This is the first time that I have noticed that you twirl your hair when you drive. My eyes have shifted from cityscapes flying across backseat windows to watching you wrap your hair around your finger.
It’s not slow and flirtatious, but quick and desparate, as if you're trying to distract yourself from the fact that we are growing up. It’s making me anxious, but I can’t look away.
This is the first time that I noticed the change in our silence. We are driving down nearly empty highways, and we are leaving behind our time. We are no longer laughing, and this silence doesn’t feel like it usually does. For once, none of us have anything to say. Or maybe, we know that there is not enough time to say all of the things that we should and want to say.
This is when I noticed how much I love driving down empty highways at midnight. Everything is slow, there is no rush, and, for once, there are no expectations of me.
I am finally, truly noticing that there will never be enough time to tell you all that I love you,
to hear you talk about science,
to hear about your travels,
to talk to you about your struggles,
to drive, and laugh, and cry with you,
to watch you twirl you hair.
Now, we have grown up, and our distances will strain our years of friendships,
and there will never be enough time with you.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 1:07 AM UTC
When Pablo Neruda does it, it's beautiful art.
When I do it, it's cringy and desparate.
When Van Gogh does it, it's dedication.
When I do it, it's insanity and a restraining order.
When Picasso does it, it's cubism.
When I do it, it's scribbles.
When Robert Frost does it, it's wisdom.
When I do it, it's 'Facebook Garbage'.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 6:24 AM UTC
Built up tears,
A dam released,
Violent movements,
Punching bags.
And all at once,
It liberated itself
Of its confining chains.
Alone,
An empty house,
All that movement in still air,
Very much hoping to be heard.
And the irony
of not knowing how to explain.
Harsh tears,
Ripped heart,
A voice made coarse,
Anger,
Frustration,
Fused a total meltdown.
An agonising cry,
Desparate movements replay
On days when feelings numb down,
And a hole widens from deep within,
Projecting from an empty shell,
Onto a vastly absent world.
All the kicking,
The punching,
Sore knuckles,
Aching knees,
Swollen eyes,
Dripping sweat,
An utterly spent heart.
And a hot scalding bath later,
An hour or so,
When souls filled a place called home,
It was as though nothing ever happened,
Simply a day well spent,
Rather eventful.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 6:26 PM UTC
It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first:
To offer you now at last my least and my worst:
Minor, absurd preserves,
The shell's end-curves,
A document kept at the back of a drawer,
A tin hidden under the floor,
Recalcitrant prides and hesitations:
To pile them carefully in a desparate oblation
And say to you "quickly! turn them
Once over and burn them".
Now I (no communist, heaven knows!
Who have kept as my dearest right to close
My tenth door after I've opened nine to the world,
To unfold nine sepals holding one hard-furled)
Shall - or shall try to - offer to you
A communism of two ...
See, entry's yours;
Here, the last door!
2.3k
You take all the light
leaving desparate shadows
that congregate down below
Your breath as hot and dust
a desert on the go
Your intentions as devious
Every motion shuns
Picture a rose out in
New Mexico
Withered in thirst
Strangled in weeds
that have no roots
with no sins to bear
No redemption cleansed clear
Catch the thorns
on cati high
As the midnight blooms
Let the blood flow
from the punctured wounds
From the soul undone
to the desert below .
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 6:03 PM UTC
One with the ruined sunset,
The strange forsaken sands,
What is it waits, and wanders,
And signs with desparate hands?
What is it calls in the twilight--
Calls as its chance were vain?
The cry of a gull sent seaward
Or the voice of an ancient pain?
The red ghost of the sunset,
It walks them as its own,
These dreary and desolate reaches . . .
But O, that it walked alone!
1.2k
To create, to mate one with another,
to form a whole out of desparate parts,
is what the Supreme Being did. Why?
To try to let all know that each is connected
infinitely to all others, that though there are many,
there is only One. When we come to see this
spiritual paradox when we realize paradoxically
that this seeming paradox is no paradox at all.
We shall attain Enlightenment. We shall finally
become Truth.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
May 23, 2021
May 23, 2021 at 2:55 PM UTC
ANTLIKE STRENGTHS
A poem by Tricia Hague-Barrett 1993
An ant carries its large load across the cracks
in the path on its way homeward
Nothing gets in its way
Nothing prevents him from succeeding,
If only I could have seen the end in the beginning
where struggles are frequent but passable,
testing but not breaking my resolve to give in
to the desparate feelings of loneliness, tiredness.
Ant-like, I too have to learn to carry the heavy load,
The Teaching load, the Administrative load,
carry it across potholes, ditches, mountains
and through distant valleys of calmness.
Turbulent tests, stumbling stones,
each there to guide me along the way
Like guardian angels, each one
Heralding the Dawn of a New Day.
Ends.
(C) 1993
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC
Excrement of the intangible
The iron ****** lung
The sharp inhalation - raspy reality
The thought that all is too much
The repressing of doubts in the hollow
The incommunication at the office
The freezing of the faculties
The desparate sigh two chairs away
The sensation of lost in a maze
The plaintive face of misunderstanding - and
The allocation of the assets
The incessant attempt at grubbing funds from already empty pockets
The sneer of the Tax Man
The ineffectual Cops and
The stern eyes of judgement
The remainder of all that was sacred
Feb 23, 2010
Feb 23, 2010 at 5:10 PM UTC
it is an injustice
and when it happens
your fists clench
teeth grinding against each other
as you bite down hard
and hold back the voice that
they've already silenced
you see
there are three kinds of people that the world loves
four kinds if it's a good day and the sky is blue
five if you squint
six if you close your eyes
seven if you never listen to the screams
eight if you stop being able to feel sorry
for the dead boys in the street
and the girls whose hijabs are starting
to resemble bandages on top of war wounds
like their existence is something that
some enemy with more guns than compassion
can't bear to see
but there are three kinds of people that the world loves
the rich
the white
the cishet male
it seems if you have money
then you get what you need
if you skin is the color of cream
you get what you want
if your body matches the on/off binary
that some dead white guy built up
in a desparate attempt at stifling
a world he didn't understand
then you get safety
if your love can fit neatly
in teh confines of a church
whose god is more disappointment
than righteous anger
because the time for anger was years ago
the time for anger was dead men and women
people with stars in their front windows
and people with triangles on their breastpocket
the time for anger
was a young girl
staring at a young girl
as her parents threw her to the dogs
as her flesh was torn for teh sake of blessings
as her body was cursed for the sake of god
as her existence was removed
erased
ignored
for teh sake of someone else's comfort
you see the world is a bad place
full of battles that no one wants to fight
full of wars that no one wants to see
and you will stand some day
in front of a sea of people
and try to profess yourself a prophet
you will proclaim your news good
you will paint peace across your forehead
like that will distract from the blood on your hands
but by your silence they will know you
by your soft steps
your late entrance
your blank face at the sight of their dead children
they will recognize you for what you are
and their fists will clench
their teeth will grind against one another
as they bite down hard
and hold back a voice that they
that you
already silenced
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 2:30 PM UTC
Ever since I was young,
I wanted to grow up to be a cigarette
Because it was the only thing my father could never let go of.
Something he could always show off.
And Be proud of.
Ever since I was young
I wanted to grow up to be a cigarette
But I was nothing more than just your ash tray
How you would dump me on the floor
You swore I was nothing important to you ...
Wait...
Wait now, ash
Sit back
Relax
Don't forget to breathe, if the smoke doesn't get to you first
And picture yourself sitting on the side of the street again
That day
You fell on your knees
And realized there was no one there to help you get back up.
With tears in your eyes, you saw a cloud of smoke arrive but it floated right passed you.
This desparate want that I had was just a feud
But phew!
I knew it was something I would eventually get through.
I guess, after all, you just really really wanted to be the cancer to my cigarette.
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 5:12 PM UTC
Keep me busied until i'm blind,
So I cannot see the divide of yours and mine.
Whisked up in desparate uncounted steps,
Unfeeling unhindered by lonely threats.
Cough up and out all the black,
The taint the stain of all I lack.
Distract me so I see no ill,
Dillusional I live like on some blissful pill.
Stop the clock and it all hits,
In disconnection my happiness sits.
Away from heartache crave and despair,
Unhealthy obsessed and blissfully unaware.
Give me distraction at every moment,
To save me from future lonely atonement.
Aug 3, 2011
Aug 3, 2011 at 2:25 PM UTC
I drove from I-95 over to I-90/94
Yes you can say I put the metal to the floor
Drove all day and into the night
Guess I was going to fast now smokey is in sight
He stopped me and laid on me one hefty fine
He said slow down and be safe wow! he was kind
Went back to the driver seat to color in my log
Rolling down the highway pretending to be a big dog
Have a hot hot load and no time to spare
Running my face on the CB acting like i have something to share
All ready 3200 miles into this trip
Just hoping and praying that I just don't quit
Oh lord the chicken coop is open and pulling me around back
Lucky me Mr. DOT man letting me know I have a missing stack
Shut down of course till the repair guy fixes my truck
Have to call the company now just to pass a buck
Down too many hours wore out and beat
What can go wrong? have a broken air-ride seat
No border patrol or radio stations here in Montana
Have only one Cd why on earth did it have to be Santana?
Jamming to the only tunes, my truck doing all bit of 68
Driving illeagle to get there and cant remember the last time I ate
I'm in desparate need of real hot shower but I'm almost at the receiver
Stopping in to get some fuel, Just my luck got bit by a golden retriever
This has been a trip from hell no doubt about that
What else can go wrong? what that sound to notice I have a flat
I'll limp the rest of the way have 10 mins. to get check in
After I get unloaded and the tired fixed I"ll do it all over again.
Nov 17, 2009
Nov 17, 2009 at 8:48 AM UTC
Sometimes I feel this one vessel can't contain all these experiences, all these emotions.
This one trip isn't enough
This one guy isn't enough
This one life isn't enough
What then?
A higher peace?
A believing remedy?
Blind blind apathy.
I try. I tried. I became. I become.
I'm a fool. A servant. I'm a slave to these emotions.
They turn on me like the light from the atoms in the night sky.
What are these?
These experiences.
What is their mount?
What is their worth.
I try to desert the hurt then thwart the pain..but of course it enters through the memorized corners of my gaping heart.
It swallows my pleasure, happiness, reason to be until there's just a silence. Desparate acceptance.
Yes. Yes. I'm a willing slave of this pain.
What else can you call a non-doer.
Cecelia was right.
Indecision is decision.
s.q.
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
A home
un-bounded love.. and light
with growing
dark hidden fissures
from stabbing inquiries..
each day's exhortation
to depart and exhale..
fierce need to locate
the source of his
heart's agitation...
Inheritance pleaded and won
exceedingly more than
the packet he carried..
exaltation.. expanding.. exhaling
a journey begun with
destination promising the
solutions he sought...
Arrival unease..inquiries
begin to unfold..
gathering clouds.. dark
shadings of fear and doubt..
questions persisting once more
desparate need.. to inhale..
At last recalling inherited light
remembering.. immediately
he knew..
a season now ending
his identity now clear
confidence leaping.. inhaling
electricity flowing
home-bound...
A welcoming light
celebration and feasting
soon shaded by
a brother's irritation..
sharp glances absorbed
with joyful glow..
he recognized an echo
of recent ventures below..
brother's birthing pains
a gift
of precious in-sight...
New departure now pending
spring's budding and fragrance
life breathes with seasons
inherited light
zestful.. exhaling
new creation.. calling
from those places
below.
Apr 4, 2012
Apr 4, 2012 at 6:20 PM UTC
*Ancient wise and fearsome, Dragons grab the mind.
Rend the soul. Open your eyes to the delights of gold.*
Reaching forth with one glistening claw,
scraping the earth in a foot deep furrow,
It opens an eye to gaze upon the foolish
who seek its treasure.
And seeing before it a young boy,
gazing in awe, total amazement,
smirks in silent humor.
Puffing out a wisp of smoke,
enamoring the boy even further,
it slowly stretches wide its winges,
making shelter from the icy weather,
for this fearless child of Man.
The gold tinted, rustling scales,
shake the child from his reverie,
and gazing into the creatures eye
He asks in a timid shaky voice,
Mighty one, can you spare a coin?
Staring sharply, at this young sapling of a boy,
daring to request such a heavy toll,
from one such as he.
The Ancient One, with eye whirling,
reaches under his massive belly and extracts a pence.
And to the boy, breathes "for a price childe, you may have such as this"
The emaciated filthy boy, looks hopefully up at the dragon,
wondering what a price would be for this pence.
And, yet knows that he has no choice but to pay.
For at home, his family suffers terribly from the poverty
brought on by invading tribes from the farlands.
Food taken, cattle slaughtered, family treasures destroyed.
Like so many others, suffering under this retribution,
desparate for the basic neccesities of life.
And from this suffering, born in this young boy,
Courage enough to approach the Ancient One for assistance.
And, so he steps forward, shaking, and bowing his head, asks,
"What price do you require, Ancient One?"
Rumbling deeply in its chest, the dragon considers,
this lowly life form, its obvious need and desparation,
commands, "Return tomorrow, with a robin's egg
and you shall have this pence."
And, closing its eyes, lowering its wings, became still as stone.
And so, hope sprung forth in the young lad's heart,
as he raced to share the news with his family.
That such a treasure should be within his grasp for such a simple request.
And, so begins the story of mentor and student.
With hope for a better future for family and friend.
Oct 23, 2010
Oct 23, 2010 at 4:58 PM UTC
If I see you
—walking down the street in the arms of another,
staring at them like they were the blessed mother,
holding them like fragile equipment—
I'll trod along, pretending to never have known you were there in the first place
My love, will you let me stay slave to loneliness,
will you continue to shun me in your desparate attempt to move on?
The thought of you in the care of someone else
irks my mind and pains my soul
It punctures my armor scathed
like the claws of a lion that fell itself
The very sight of your iridescent face
gleaming like a multifaceted gem
struck by light in a way it shows
life in glamorous technicolor burns my thoughts
The way your hands are clasped with theirs
Contrast to mine holding my own
together in prayer that you are mine alone
but what I wish differs from what I see
My love, will you let me stay slave to loneliness,
will you continue to shun me in your desparate attempt to move on?
If you see me
—strolling pass by you, trying to catch a glimpse of your face,
admiring you like you are a dancing sun,
trying to catch your image in my memories—
trodding by, just pretend you didn't so it wouldn't hurt any more than I have already hurt myself
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 12:02 AM UTC
i chaw a trifle
a quid of desparate thoughts
soon hawked on a page
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 4:37 PM UTC
Its Pitch Black, so lonely and cold
There's not a single hand here to hold
Nobody Not Even A soul.
Stuck in the deep dark hole.
But I know My God is Still in Control.
As my head begins to pulsate thanks to my migraine Headache.
Just then I faint upon my intake.
Realzing I'm Unconscious, no longer am I awake
I can feel the firery hate in all the words that Everyone had once spake.
Spiteful words glide ****** my mind slithering like snake from behind.
Satans hoping that I might take the bait so he can unwind.
Feelings of being Mistreated and misused
Being Mentally, Physically, and Emotionally Abused.
The feeling of abandonement after being used
In desparate need of someone to talk to
Sinking without you......
I'm lost.... feeling hopeless.....
Lord I cant even begin to cope with this.
Help me to stay postive and gain back my focus.
Father please dont let my prayers Go unoticed.
Im suffering from this massive Heartache cant you feel my heart beginning to break with each breathe that I take.
But it was my Mistake.
Knowing I had Everything to lose at steak.
Now Im Experiencing my life shaking in an Earthquake.
Forgive me Lord I love you with all my heart and soul. Make me whole and console
I know that My God is still in Control.
I shed so many Tears
Especially within these past few Years
I have faced my biggest Fears.
Suddenly I hear 2 different wishpers in my ears.
Satan: "Girl, Can't you hear?“
God: "Have No Fear For I am Here!"
Satan:" You can't and won't Do this!"
God: In all Of This I am In the midst!
Satan: Throw in the Towel,Give up, Quit!
God: You have me and you Are fully equipped, My Child you can make it.
Because I didn't give up I didn't quit. I fought with grit of the holy spirit. And God protected me from Every blow and hit.
This is a spiritual battle From Within......
As Long as God Is on my Side Satan Can't And won't Win.
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 10:07 PM UTC
coffee wouldn't soothe his pain
blood wouldn't flow right in his vein
books are his love, his companion
the pages were the reflection to his dominion
*****************************
His body took a long walk of despair
his thoughts so paralyzed, no spiritual repair
melancholy triggered his burning bridges
no recall or a sight of purity
life and death was lying next to him
heart so cheap, so unfortunate
but his soul reached out
and whispered, "clarity is a state of mind"
Deception broke his happiness to bare
a goth's retreat would never compare
the darkness inferiorated his peace
kindness was so rare - death called his name
heart so desparate, so lost
but his soul reached out
and whispered, "clarity is a state of mind"
Ear occlusion and concussions were his gravitation
reluctant sadness killed his meditation
no recognition or understanding from his peers
body kindled its way to the hearts of people
he know not his worth, his birth
heart so fragile, so irregular
but his soul reached out
and whispered, "clarity is a state of mind."
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC
I want to disappear and never surface
I want to wake up and not feel
I want to smile without an aching heart
Was this heart broken by me or had the world crumbled it's light?
I see the mirage of a future, a vibrant past but as I look around I see nothing but the blurry depths of the sea, currents pulling and pushing, water forcefully rushing down my throat, filling my chest as I struggle in reflex.
It was such a cold night, too cold to be alone.
I am a failure, one who'd given up on life and was given up upon and as my body sinks deeper into this dark abyss I prayed to God for warmth.
There were days I felt relief under the torrential rain, some, light headedness as sun rays kissed my skin. I was made euphoric with simple pleasures. And in that degree, I felt pain all the same.
I resigned to the sinking of my body and the lost of sight on this lonely path but just as much I was desparate for salvation.
With effort, I came up and was washed upon the shores. It was cold, too cold. Water came out of my nose and I coughed and heaved.
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 12:40 AM UTC
a daughter
named seble
seven years old
being in a coma
she couldn't hear her
daddy's words
she couldn't see him
fog in front of her eyes
covering differences of
sleep and wakefulness
oneday seble's father
who was desparate
put headphones
on seble's ears
lyrics from two tall germans
they are called the
"wildecker herzbuben"
"herz" means heart and a
"bube" is a boy
seble
closed eyes
slowly breathing
seble's father is called
brhane
rapidly breathing
brhane was pressing play
and after seconds
among lurid lights
seble
harvest
moved her head
seble closed eyes smiled
as the wildecker herzbuben sang:
"Ein letztes Glas'l mit alten Freunden
die geh'n allein nach Haus.
In den Straßen
in den Gassen
geh'n langsam die Lichter aus."
a last drink with my buddies
who go home alone
in the streets
in the alleys
the lights are vanishing
seble moved her head
no windows but
her daddy was there
sebles mother is not alive
anymore
brhane prayed
holding his daughter's hand
seble opened one eye
looking at brhane
seble came back to reality when
brhan had finished his talk to
god
the end of seble's and brhane's
story is wordless
Nov 15, 2019
Nov 15, 2019 at 5:29 PM UTC
You’ve only ever came to me in my dreams
I’ve created who you are through my imagination
You’re perfect in my eyes;
A loving creation
But when one steps into reality,
They’ll notice you’re on the other side
You’ll never cross over;
You’re a slave to your pride
You won’t let your status fumble
Embrace the popularity, leadership; it all
Disregard the other side
And let the bridge between them fall
After all this time I’d spent gaining courage to cross
Or waiting for you to meet me half way
My chances are slowly fading
With the light of each new day
And so I’ll stay and wait and watch over you
Heavy hearted and hurt inside
Desparate that someday soon you’ll come and build up the bridge
And coexist with the other side
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 3:24 AM UTC
People tell me I'm desperate because I want true love...
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC