"fidgeting" poems
On Monday we met, our eyes fixated on one another, eager to know more
On Tuesday we talked, twiddling our thumbs, fidgeting in our seats, pondering on the right things to say
On Wednesday we hugged, your arms held me close, heartbeats in sync, I felt myself floating
On Thursday we kissed, our lips gravitated towards each other, like the moon and the sea, the connection was natural
On Friday we confessed, three little words wrapped around our ears,
forever tattooed in our minds
On Saturday you disappeared, no note, no call, no text
not a trace of you left that I could still hold on to
On Sunday I cried, my heart still beats, but never the same way,
would you ever give me a reason if I ever asked "Why?"
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 3:28 PM UTC
10.
We walk side by side, wandering around restlessly.
9.
Anxiety and Fear creeps between us.
8.
"Trust? What is trust?"
7.
What is Truth.? Which is a LIE?
6.
I could see your deathly psychopathic gaze, staring me sharply.
5.
The dark comes, the cold breeze fills in our gap, mysteriously.
4.
You keep flinching and fidgeting your pale blue fingers.
3.
"We can no longer be together"
2.
Define Blood,Murder,Death
1.
One
0.
Zero,
The End of OUR Lives
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 7:07 AM UTC
A pin drop silence
An unusual serene calmness
A solemn way to start a day
in an empty classroom
Even the softest moan...
the loudest roar
Sighed...
counting my own breathing
as I was fidgeting to and fro
in an empty classroom...
123 my heart was beating slow
456 my heart was moving faster
789 my heart was thunderous!
blood boiled up to the head...
from cheerful to moody
from pretty to ugly
smiles... yawns.. smirks... temper!
the veins fighting in the face...
dark red with anger burst!
A sudden... gentle knock on the door..
broke the golden silence
a sweet angel walked in
with head held down
"GOOD MORNING TEACHER"
Applause... Applause... Applause...
Thank you to the sweetest soul..
An empty classroom came to live...
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
)
. ) ( ) (
( ) ) ( )
) ( ( ) )
( ) ) ( ( (
) ( )
there you are...sitting right across •
and here i am...fidgeting in my seat
•searching for words...but seeming-
ly at a loss•only the eloquence of
my racing, thumping heartbeat•
trading only in silent words and
coy gazes•mingling within the
tendrils of wafting steam•
divine moment as the
heart rapidly races•
over our hot cuppas, soaring into caffeine
fueled dreams•
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 10:55 AM UTC
When he comes home, I go into panic mode,
The walls in my brain closing in,
The bile in my throat rising,
My teeth sweating in anticipation of what is to come
When he comes home,
I hope to god that I pass beneath the radar,
Nothing more than a sigh on the breeze,
Nothing more than a ripple in a pond
Nothing for him to notice
When he comes home, I make myself as small as I can,
Hoping that he’ll ignore me like he has all these years,
But knowing that it’s a futile attempt,
Like trying to avoid the burning sun
When he comes home,
The nausea roils in my gut,
Reminding me that I am nothing,
That I will never be anything more than what he paints me to be
When he comes home,
I am reduced to “yes sir” and “no sir,”
To eyes that are glued to the ceiling or floors,
To fidgeting hands and twisting fingers
To nothing more than a decoration to stand in the corner
When he comes home,
I try to retreat to my room,
I try to give him the space that he seems to need,
I try to leave him be and let him sleep,
But nothing seems to work, and he yells all the same
When he comes home,
My home becomes nothing more than a battlefield,
One that I cannot escape,
One that there is no running from,
One from which the injuries are only seen in the trauma that is left behind
When he comes home,
My life becomes nothing more than a play,
A tragedy in which no one survives,
A performance that I am supposed to know,
But stage fright has taken over and the lines mean nothing to me now
And I am frozen, hoping for the curtains to fall to cover my fear
When he comes home,
I quietly
Exit
Stage left.
Jun 17, 2023
Jun 17, 2023 at 9:15 PM UTC
My darling, will you marry me?
Years of hints
I decided to ask
Is it wrong for a woman to ask first?
Disbelieving
His reaction
His breath heavy and heaving
Fidgeting in his chair
My face, sallow in its seriousness
Cast a cold shadow on his bones
His body turning away
The back of his head
In my veins moved oxygen pure
My breath calm and subdued
Knowing the answer before it was asked
Confirmation from his lips due
What does one do after many years?
Is it ok to force one into marriage?
Am I giving myself up?
Am I giving in?
My darling. Will you marry me?
You are the love of my life.
Will you marry me?
No, he said.
Apr 29, 2022
Apr 29, 2022 at 8:06 AM UTC
Standing perplexed
Vigorously stabbing button
Scowling at passing traffic
Prodding repeatedly
Slapping neon display like
a defective vending machine
Arms flailing in impatience
Fidgeting on kerb edge.
He's the cross crossing man.
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 3:40 AM UTC
perpetual expeditions amidst this hazy twilight,
periwinkled vistas ensnaring me in
buzzzzzzzzzzzz
the sound penetrates my ear drum
black and yellow rabble-rouser
this rambunctious little menace
a pomegranate
eternally ripe, giving me life
gilled, scaled, underwater creature
emerging from the deep, boundless rift
two tantalizing tigers
troublesome, treacherous
and she laid there—
undisturbed, unaware
jabbed in her side by a M1903 Springfield
soothed state rattled, shattered
wincing from the poke of the blunt end of the gun
the sleeping lady slept no more
poor fellows,
how were they supposed to hold on to it without opposable thumbs?
the distressed damsel appeared grotesque,
flailing and fidgeting at the sight of her surroundings
surface rocking beneath my feat,
my trusty elephant’s weak ankles shattering my already shattered stability
i had no more time for such nonsenses
buzzing sounds burned deep into my psyche
the soft-spoken horizon called out to me
calling for me to continue on into the enigmatic expanse
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 12:14 PM UTC
Tough
A poem.
—————
I can’t deal with anyone’s crap.
I got to much blood and boulders,
On my back.
Fighting back the past,
Never been able to relax.
I don’t know if anyone can tell,
—Or if anyone cares,
But I'm about to crack.
they creep up,
Bruises cover much.
Random hallucinations—
Severe pain.
No one's understanding,
—or listening.
My brain is in such a bad headache,
I feel like my insides are blistering.
Fidgeting.
Numbness.
Pain.
Fainting.
Brain making—
Random movements.
All a loss of control.
Appointments got canceled,
“WHY!!!— HOW MANY MORE!?”
When does someone call it-
“Enough!?”
I’m NOT….THIS tough.
Aug 8, 2025
Aug 8, 2025 at 11:18 PM UTC
My hands fidget.
I will tell you when I see you that
my fingers could break when I speak,
loose from the chicken wire houses that pin them to nail holes
no one sees and my words could snap
with them, straight down their spines.
My hands fidget and my tongue trips.
One day I won’t be allowed to see your eyes, your eyes when the sun hits them and they turn green, your eyes when they're blue, when you're being real. Or both.
The sun is in your eyes and it's setting.
I think I could be the moon,
we could meet at every eclipse,
create our own lightshow in the sky or make them notice us just for five minutes,
the kids sat on steps behind the sports centre,
I will tell you when I see you that you are so ******* smart you could ruin the world with it, so why can’t I tell you this, so why can’t my hands stay still?
I want to feel the way my mouth tingles when we sit, you murmuring in my ear that you could spend all day here,
alone with the indents of each other's lips.
I guess if we ruined the world I wouldn't even feel Numb, the Nirvana song.
My hands fidget.
Recently I stuck a sticker over my fear of death to try and be as brave as you and now I am Nevermind,
I can't feel a thing.
My tongue sits still when I try to speak about thinking and when I think of losing you I see Topcat, Pink Panther and this time my mind trips over itself.
I chew my lips and the corners of my mouth close.
I can’t see in the dark like I can’t breathe when I see cartoons like I can’t see **** when you say we need to talk like I’m scared of the ******* dark so please walk me home.
You find my hair bobbles at your house and I'm sorry that that last one wasn’t a metaphor.
I imagine the space behind your closed eyelids looks like a dark place at 3am where you exhale smoke.
I imagine the space behind mine is inhaling, coughing and static in the form of a thousand headlights blinking
and
it burns.
My hands fidget.
You call me out and it sounds like my brain not being able to hold itself still, I can't,
I can't stop fidgeting under those blue-green eyes.
When you tell me you love me my fingers stay still.
When I think it's loud like nerve endings screaming at me ******* react like
controlling hands, interconnecting veins jumping from wrists,
hazy.
The stuff of nightmares where you say I don’t trust you
but I know that your hands on my wrists would not,
do not,
burn
like that.
I will tell you when I see you
I will not wrap you in chicken wire.
I am writing to tell you that when you speak my hands stay still.
I am trying to say that nothing snaps and my head is
quiet.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 6:27 AM UTC
jeweltoned and silent figeating fidgeting
mayqueens of vienna:
morituri te
salutant.
cupidfresh bruises on your thighs brought to you by
johnson &
johnson a family company amen they will do right by
you.
honeyed dew sticks to
morning eyelids (sugarwater my eyelashes
hummingbird tongues)—
vague rifle form at constant alert
attn. california capricorns:
your winterspeak eludes me yet.
lighteyed candle-holders and
coffeeringed eyes tell me
all I have ever needed to know about
yelling fire in an ice
skating rink
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 5:21 AM UTC
I am a puppet,
Here are my strings.
This one's for my mouth,
And this one's for my wings.
You can make me fly,
Fly,
O so high, in the sky,
Till I die.
You are in control,
Just the way you like it I'm sure.
Making me do tricks,
Getting all of your sick kicks.
You stand above me,
With your fidgeting fingers.
Making me dance around,
To your favorite singers.
Make me jump,
Make me fly,
Make me happy,
Make me cry,
Make me crazy,
Make me high,
Control where I look,
With my eyes.
I do your biding,
Like it or not.
I'm addicted to your control,
Like some are to ***
I feel like,
It'll be this way till I die.
Yet you drop some scissors,
What are you trying to imply?
But now I found the scissors,
And you know what I'm going to do?
Snip,
Snip,
Cut,
Cut,
And,
TADA.
I'M FREE FROM YOU.
Although,
I didn't really think this through...
Because before I knew,
It I fell to the floor.
Like an overdosed,
Ritalin *****
Lifelessly alone laying,
On the ground.
The only thing I hear,
Is your fake laughing sound.
So there I lay limb over limb,
Not knowing where to go.
Then to my dismay,
You mange to cause me even more woe.
For beside me,
A new puppet takes my place.
And your once gentle hand,
Comes down on me, and I am erased.
Now I think,
I miss your strings.
And all of your,
Cute little things.
I might have been a puppet,
But I loved my master.
Until she got bored,
And caused this disaster.
I loved a disaster,
Which was my master.
But what should I know?
I am just a puppet.
Oct 2, 2011
Oct 2, 2011 at 7:54 PM UTC
I simply cannot focus on my work
as all these animals have gone berserk!
Philippa, my darling girl, fill me in,
who on earth is making that awful din?
There’s an aardvark having a bath,
and a chameleon rolling dice,
an eagle searching in the freezer
and a goose hiding in the hedge,
an iguana eating our jam
and a koala juggling our lemons,
a marmoset slurping noodles
and an octopus carrying paint pots,
a quail wearing a ring
and a squirrel making the tea,
a unicorn using the vacuum cleaner
and a walrus playing the xylophone,
and finally Philippa, finally my girl,
a yak fidgeting with a zip!
Where did they come from? I really don’t know,
but very soon they will just have to go!
I’ve had enough now of this awful din,
thank you Philippa for filling me in!
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
Towards the surface remain my concerns.
The sun will shine on all my problems.
Entering my mind in a state of stillness.
As powerful as that might be.
Will it set my fidgeting free.
It's time to leave that all behind.
Searching to find the wondrous grape vine.
To eat with the acknowledgment of peace and happiness.
The water is in harmony to the song of the whales.
To sink deep naturally without any fails.
I wish I could hug it even though it flows around me.
From the cosmos I must shine through my enlightened chi.
Lifted from all the negativity.
I've found what rescues and saves.
The voices travel with the wind and aids the singing waves.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
i'm not sure what to do with all the distance
it's been months that have felt like years
i can remember when you came into my life in the winter
and I can remember when you left in the summer
arrival and departure
the distinct difference between the two
i'm only at the thin line of division
the way my emotions don't add up
like miscalculated algebra
all to your advantage
i kept your love letter
the letter where you plagiarized a novel
because i wasn't good enough for your own words
that was my only closure
i wanted desperately to burn the stuffed bears from the carnival
i could only part with one
when i hold it close to me
i feel like how a child would
expecting prizes only in fabric and cotton stuffing
not words of affirmation or love
i almost drove by your house
but i knew i would only go mad thinking
of who has been touching your new furniture that i helped pick out
leaving their fingerprints in place of mine
i miss my t-shirts that you still have
i hope when and if you wear them
you can feel me close
my heart beating where yours is
sometimes i feel like i miss you enough for you to show up
as if my pain could teleport
the craving of a complete closure
one where i don't need liquor or a lighter
others bring up your name
as if i'm not in the process of misplacing the letters
or dismissing the syllables
i've been trying to forget your face
your face of sharp bones
flaring nostrils
and nostalgic lips
i've been trying to imagine if that night would have never happened
when that veteran couldn't take himself anymore
he chose you to be his last interaction
it was all in hints
he was screaming for help without making a sound
how were we supposed to know
i still wonder where that blue jay is that he buried behind the building
i just couldn't bare to see it
now i wish i made a map
X marks the spot where our love died
i remember when you had to bury your own blue jay
you never saw it coming
you took the wrong step and it was under your foot
just like he said his bluejay was
fidgeting and fighting for life
i'd like to think it was a sign from him
to let you know it's possible to move on and forward
so you did
you moved on to scabbed skin and worn-out lungs
i moved on to scholarly headaches and false pretenses
back then i could never fathom my days without you
now i find it difficult to recall how we were
it feels like our romance was a dream
because it only felt real when i was asleep
Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 1:05 AM UTC
a true African queen
bore and raised me
with mighty prayers and tears
worked her fingers to the bone
desperate to keep my needs satisfied and more
always fidgeting over me
me ignorant and selfish
misused a mothers love and affection
i sowed with her tears
bitter sad lonely water filled eyes
now i reap with grey clouds
honor they mother the commandments say
me laughed and mocked it
my days are no longer laughing
tears wet my cheeks, mamma
please, i beg you
please forgive my selfish ways
a godly mother always praying
thank god
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 2:20 AM UTC
EDNOS is:
confusion.
-starving for days,
then bingeing every day for a week.
-puking until you see blood,
because you failed yet again.
-starving again,
because you’re too fat to function.
-puking some more,
because you’re not strong enough.
EDNOS is:
manic.
-running for hours,
because running makes you thin.
-exercising in the early morning,
because every minute counts.
-constantly fidgeting,
because moving burns calories.
-counting calories like a pro,
because everything has to be exact.
-organizing everything,
because it calms you down.
EDNOS is:
horrible.
-pulling your head out of the toilet,
with tears running down your face and puke all over.
-fake smiling at everyone,
because no one would believe you if you were honest.
-your mind spinning 100miles/hour,
because demons control your thoughts.
-comparing yourself to everyone you see,
because you’re too fat to be a part of society.
-wanting to die every second,
because you’re not perfect.
EDNOS is:
me.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 11:17 AM UTC
Birds stop chirping
Neighbours stop fidgeting
Maids stop cleaning
Phones stop ringing
Cars stop vrooming
Bikes stop honking
Clocks stop ticking
My little angel is sleeping
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 5:53 AM UTC
Insomnia and I, old friends are we –
awake by each other’s side,
fidgeting, through the night.
***
Insomnia and I, old foes are we –
ever struggling to conquer,
to defeat the other.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 8:49 AM UTC
"Funny poems aren't taken seriously",
the figure splashes verbal acid over the
crumpled piece of paper I handed them.
Refusing to laugh
Curling their lip.
The paper quickly,
without a thought,
thrusted back into my hands.
They leave behind my thought
which fills the space between
myself, fidgeting alone
and them, striding away.
*Does it have to be serious
to be taken seriously?*
A mental court gathers itself around me
Myself, a defense attorney
Pointing a stained finger
at the figure on the stand.
I present the shoe-eating Peruvian
and his limerick friends.
Generations of drinking songs
often crass, but lasting.
There is laughter from the jury
There is hope for the poems.
Then my final evidence
the crumpled paper
I read it aloud
silence.
Is split by the dull chuckle of the figure
elbows in suit jacket pressed against the stand.
"Sure, there's examples from the past,
but you?
the troubled kid?
the depressed one?
the pariah?"
I glance at more files, appearing,
my name on each.
analysis,
evaluation,
diagnosis,
test.
Laughter, the type that jeers,
grows into a crescendo.
I huddle, hands over ears,
creasing my suit
but the muted version is worse.
I stagger to my feet.
The court has morphed cruelly
into an arena of sorts.
Brutal, simple, life-ending
decisions are made here.
My jacket is gone
My cheek openly bleeds
My sleeves have ripped
revealing the scars below.
I hurl out, from deep within me
"It's because I'm ****** up that
I need to write it!
Don't you understand?
Making people laugh
keeps and edge off the old habits
keeps the thoughts where they belong!"
My voice is hoarse.
The arena tightens.
Even as I say it, I'm overwhelmed by the thoughts
That I do not belong.
That a funny poem punctuated by my fingers
despite their past harm
delivered from my mouth
despite its harsh denouncements
and shared by my whole self
despite my self-banishment
is not enough.
I sink to the ground, stripped of my senses.
My poems have turned course
once helping ease pain,
now proliferating it.
My fingernails pierce the palm of my hand
through the crumpled paper
and two drops of blood strike the tiles.
I meant for this to be
a funny poem
But I guess it's about why
some people need to write them.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 11:50 PM UTC
All my life
I was allowed to appreciate the world around me
But lacked the means to express how
I could speak of the fluttering of a starling’s wings
Lifting into the majesty of the sky
By stirring the air
But you would not understand
The loneliness they stir in me
I could describe the stature of the far-off mountain
The snow-ridden summit stark white
Vehement in its unyielding presence
But you would not see
The spark of vehemence I feel in its wake
I could illustrate the way the sun sinks behind the hills
Staining the clouds orange and pink
Causing a blanket of soft light to awaken the earth
But you would not recognize
The nostalgia it awakens in my tired soul
I could narrate your mannerisms with clarity
The gentle smiles and nervous fidgeting
Shyly nodding in mild acquiescence
But you would not notice
The utter joy that holds me under its sway
As you lull my heart with your words
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
Tiptoe timidly,
oh my tongue.
Speak not the words
That toe on your tip.
Swallow the surplus,
you swift little thing,
And mind that these slivers
Are given to slip.
Forget your fidgeting,
Fingers of mine.
Flee from the keystrokes
You’re fighting to flip.
Quiet your queries,
Your qualms, and questions.
Kith care not for clinging,
Nor for your quips.
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 4:23 AM UTC
Not One Hours Rest, Moon Still Standing Nice and Tall
Stars Still Hanging on, You Ride Hazily and Lazily to The City Train Station
Seeing Faces, Seeing Slouched Shoulders, Seeing Tired Eyes all around you
Waiting and Thinking of Home, Observing Yet Constantly Yawning
In No Time You Are Propelled Forwards and Out Through the City Limits
Metal Container Rattling, No Snooze Alarm for the Rising Sun
The City Dissolves into the Back of Your Eyes as You Hit A Tunnel and Enter the Suburban Void
Suddenly Fantastic Splotches of Greenery Drift into Sight, Dabs of Golden Light Float Like Dandelion Spores in The Air
People Move Up and Down the Carriage Schizophrenically, Fidgeting, Never Considering Sitting Still, Not Even Once
Please Just Look Out the Window
Outside Battered Tree Trunks Lay Lifelessly in the Middle of Wondrous Sprawling Fields
Clouds Ripple Insanely Throughout the Horizon, Livestock Enjoying Themselves While They Still Can
What Follows This is a Series of Dilapidated Sheds and Abandoned Roads Leading Up into the Hills so Jagged They Must Have Been Cut by a One Single Colossal Breadknife
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 8:30 AM UTC