"frustrates" poems
Let's hold out hope for the crippled.
Hope for the crippled?
No thanks, this crip doesn't need your hope.
This crip needs you to stop.
Stop labeling me.
Stop feeling sorry for me.
Stop pitying me and my 'poor life'
Just ******* stop!
No, really, I'm okay. I don't need you.
I don't need you or your miracles.
Don't tell me God works miracles
And to hold out hope
Because maybe one day I'll walk
Or maybe I'll get to see from both eyes
Because God works miracles
But you're too busy fixing what isn't broken that you forget
If I was truly made in his image this crip doesn't need healed.
This crip doesn't need your prayers or miracles.
This crip doesn't need your God or your salvation.
This crip doesn't need your hope.
Poor soul, she's diminished by her disability.
Diminished by my disability?
The only thing I'm diminished by
Is your inability to understand
That before anything else I am human.
I make mistakes and have flaws.
I feel, probably more than most,
And sometimes those feelings get in the way.
I empathize but I am done sympathizing.
You say my wheelchair is a blessing in disguise.
Why can't it just be a blessing?
A blessing that comes with lots of lessons.
Some that I learn the hard way and some that come easy.
But this wheelchair doesn't need a reason
To teach me (or you) a lesson.
Sure, it frustrates me when a wheel breaks or I fall on a broken sidewalk
But it teaches me humility and patience.
And there's no reason to disguise that this wheelchair is a blessing.
So, please take your hope and pity
Your guilt and salvation elsewhere
Because they're defeating the purpose. They're detracting from the point.
I am not diminished by my disability.
I am not to be quieted or pitied
I am not your reason to feel guilty
I am not a burden
I am human.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
The greatest challenge my nature presents:
Love is harder to find
Hate is easier to find
Within myself and others
Is rejection different for me?
Everybody seems to know the pain of being unwanted
And idle threats and empty words are no stranger to rejection
But when you say you'll **** me if you ever see me again
The intention is clear
The existence of my attraction
Is grotesque beyond redemption
I thought I loved you...
When appreciation comes my way
It's superficiality amuses me
Because I know all that needs to happen
Is breaking down the wall to my mind
Or unlocking the door to my heart
And those appreciators will transform into detractors
Especially if the hideous leviathan approaches their vessel
Not finding women gross frustrates me
Because I have no reference point
For why people hate me so much
Which provides a reference point
For why I hate myself so much
It's difficult not to be dominated by this damnation
But there's no way people could understand
The daily subtle nuances
Why should they?
I don't constantly consider their lives either
Even if someone tried to comprehend my life
I'm not sure it's possible
I've been here the whole time and I'm still massively perplexed
I display my emotions
Disgust
I shroud my emotions
Indifference
I **** my emotions
Hatred
Is there no escape?
Even with sanctuaries along the way
Life feels like
Everybody swims in the ocean
While I'm resigned to my lonely oasis
Is it possible to feel more alone than completely alone?
Like a cockroach consigned to living under the refrigerator
It gets so cold and dark down here
I forage for crumbs only at night
Mortally afraid of human contact
For I know that the boot follows the light
And why not?
In a world where our priorities obstruct our compassion
How much consideration should a real human show
to a lowly maggot like me
When they have to worry about paying the exterminator?
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 4:16 AM UTC
They say there are 1,025,109.8 words in the English language
yet none are capable of describing you
None of them are capable of showing your side of pure anger
and the side of caring for the things you like simultaneously
None of them are capable of showing how special you can make me feel
and then make me feel worthless seconds after
None of them are capable of saying how much I hate you
and none are capable of showing how much I love you
And that truly frustrates me
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 8:01 PM UTC
Like eyes knew your mind was already at home within that lonely-love of yours.
Feeling distant frustrates the lost. The deep look for that girl that has a beautiful soul inside.
17 longer feeling years, tainted, waiting, deserves a cold man to be close to. One with a true heart.
Wishing on hopeless petals as an excuse to avoid the galaxies-worth of thought you contained in that bitter brain of yours.
Cold cheeks cried out for softly captivating lips.
Twistedly committed to searching through constellations, inviting those whose hearts were like a vortex.
To the point of disorientation, when all the constellations start to blur, creating disastrous patterns.
Fear, flawed lungs, struggling to breathe.
Cruel whispers to **** your hope of ever finding love.
Like looking past the light and into a mirror, you see him and suddenly you're not so broken anymore.
You awaken.
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 1:48 AM UTC
Is it ambiguity that frustrates you;
instead it was my gift to you
But why question a bird in its cage
or a caterpillar in its cocoon?
That is not the life that matters,
only the life to become; creation
is not destiny and destiny is not
the past for as the bird is released
so too are words into your mind
to fly where they may
Do not hold them fast; let them
take you where the vastness of
your imagination and dreams
may go because you will not see
the cage; it will remain empty
without memory or purpose
The sky is who you are; there is
nothing left of the past or what
someone may have felt or thought
at the time; the words have become
your own, changing, mutable, free
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 11:00 AM UTC
It isn't the right word.
But I just can't find the one that will fit
to describe me.
I thought it might be right
until I googled it...
"A shy person"
does not begin to describe me.
I'm not angry at it,
my shyness,
but it frustrates me so much every day.
I sit inside my own head
Screaming!
Screaming at myself,
Screaming out what I just want to say
But
I
Can't!
Screaming at my head to think,
think of something,
anything!
My mind is full of thoughts
but I'm stuck sitting with my best friend
in silence,
my thoughts pounding
against my skull
but not one breaks free.
I don't know the word to say
to sum that up.
Maybe there isn't one
because it is only me trapped in my thoughts
wanting to break out,
wanting to speak out.
Maybe that's why it's so frustrating.
I feel alone inside myself
and I just want to get out.
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 10:02 PM UTC
You make me frustrated -
Frustrated that when I look at you
And think to say I love you,
The word falls short
Like the shortness of breath you cause
When your eyes connect with mine
It frustrates me that
You make me feel
What no dictionary has a proper word for.
So how then will I convey
The stutter of my heart
When you whisper my name,
Making all the world just fall away,
Till it's just you and me?
Tell me how I'm supposed to let you know
That I'm nauseous with bliss when you walk my way
And that I'm shivering and rubbing and holding myself
In a futile attempt to escape the cold
That comes when you're gone?
Tell me how I'm supposed to, in one phrase,
Light the understanding of your consciousness
Like you light my life with your presence,
Getting you to see that I don't just love you,
But that you frustrate me?
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 2:07 AM UTC
I yell at my phone,
only to think of you,
and realize that I am enticed
by what frustrates me
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
Fourteen Years.
Fourteen Years I've known you.
We are Sixteen now , always the same
Always the ever present love/hate figure
"Best Friends Forever" we'd say
You were the only friend.
I may have took you for granted
The tears.
The laughter.
The fights.
The normality.
The smiles.
I miss it all.
I miss everything, I miss you.
But we drove each other away
Without care or attention
Come back and save me please?
I need you now more than ever.
You've left me wandering aimlessly through life
I'm lost.
I cannot go under. I am not Lady Lazarus.
I need my bestfriend.
It's a shame you're a statue.
Your stillness frustrates me;
Do you possess no emotion?
Do you have a heart, a conscious?
Best friend,
Are you human?
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 7:59 PM UTC
Sometimes I get frustrated
by things I cannot change
by things that I cannot control
things I cannot re-arrange
I know these things I cannot change
are things I should ignore
but theres something deep inside me
that wont let me shut that door
And perhaps the thing about this
that frustrates me most of all
is that I cannot change myself
so in this trap I'll always fall
May 22, 2010
May 22, 2010 at 11:49 AM UTC
My day off feeling goid relaxing listening to music
Doing what feels right and what makes me happy
Work always frustrates me trying to make money
Do my time hoping to move up instead staying stuck
Over feeling used and taken for granted
I say the cream rises to the top
I've always been honest and *** heat for it
I spoke the truth and got excluded forgotten
Its hard to forget now I'm on the level
Its not where I want to be
on a level of my own feels right
Where I belong it feels right
I don't care who you know
Or what your last name is
I told my coworker id be associate of the month
I see that for myself others bs and should take pride in themself
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 4:33 AM UTC
He frustrates me, more than you could ever imagine.
Twisting my mind until I become dizzy and disorientated from the confusion.
The web he weaves of contradictions and uncertainties cuts into my soul, with sharp words. Sharp enough to **** someone, or bring them into insanity.
Constant on and off thoughts of "does he want me?" cloud my brain like a song; but I keep going back for more, as he is addictive.
He frustrates me, more than you could ever imagine; but my God those eyes, hypnotic, bright. That smirk, as if he knows he has me wrapped around his finger.
And I am, he feels like home, in the most beautiful of ways.
Warm skinned and cold-hearted, without even a word he keeps me. I am held captive by that gaze, my God those eyes!
He frustrates me.
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 6:16 AM UTC
I Feel Happy
Excited, Joyful, Energetic
I Feel Sad
Hopeless, Worthless, Useless
I Feel Mad
Angry, Hate, Violent
I Feel Nothing
Emotionless, Empty, Numb
I Feel All These At Once
All Mixed Together
Within Some Minutes Or Hours
They Change Without Me Wanting Them Too.
I Have Depression, I Am BiPolar
Im Also A Recovering
**** Addict
I Dont Like Dealing With All Of This
Its So Confusing
Frustrates Me
Makes My Life Complicated
Affects My Daily Living.
I Often Ask
Is My Life Worth Living?
Why Do i Have to Go Through All Of This, Why Can't I Just Enjoy Life Normally
Why Me?
:(
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 3:31 PM UTC
Stares down the worst nightmare
Frustrates your favorite reality show
Cannot be contained by a wall
Is a blend of church and state
Contains 50 years of Star Trek
Drives on the right side of the road
Rarely says “Hold on, slow down!”
Is no longer gender-specific
Sometimes prays en español
Allows girls to play football
Can be painted, sung or rhymed
Was born in the days of Hamilton
Celebrates the strong and the weak
Exists as a circle inside a triangle
Hears a whisper in the dark
Often survives the winter alone
Recycles its creation with glee
Worships a blue-eyed God or none
Wrestles its problems in private
Respects its gray-haired flag
Avoids front page truth
Imagines a rainbow during a storm
Invites a homeless woman to dinner
Permits free speech as protest
Welcomes immigrants from Syria
May be terminally happy
Calls the zoo a favorite place
Hums the sound of crickets at night
Put the words in Whitman’s mouth
© Lewis Bosworth, 2016
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 8:13 PM UTC
I can't let myself keep awake about you.
You have absolutely no idea.
None at all, how I lie here and just
Think
And think.
Remembering you and me in darkness,
Music all around us.
Sometimes flashes of this.
Sometimes long detailed thoughts.
Trying to remember every action,
Every word said.
It all gets twisted around.
Distorted the more my mind pushes for a visceral connection to hold onto.
To relive again those moments between you and I.
I feel vulnerable in my thoughts.
I had a notion that I kept my emotions closed up tight.
No one could decipher my state of mind.
But as I always do,
I feel transparent around you.
And it frustrates me to no end.
Seeing signs, unwillingly, in everyday things.
Reminders of you in some little way.
Unconscious happenings, until the third time's a charm and I take notice.
Is some higher power trying to tell me something or what?
Is it useless to believe divine intervention could have a hand in my life?
Can't I think God is involved in my insignificant place in the world?
How can happenstance be blamed?
It's seems to me that I know you,
Or what I want to assume you are, given the chance to get that close.
And I can't be your distraction.
The phase that occurred between the running away and the falling back to.
I refuse to accept that role.
To be so rootless to your life.
That's not fair to me.
Not at all.
Especially when I have no idea how I came to be here.
In this complex emotional pond.
I just woke up one day and it was.
And I didn't get to prepare.
And it's not fair.
Let me have my walls back because now I am stuck.
Thanks to you, I'm stuck somewhere across from a breakdown and beside staircase.
Maybe you're a twin mirror of me though.
You might have just been paying more attention to the details.
Been more effected than I was, faster than I realized perhaps?
Whatever the case is, it's thrown me.
And I lay here every night think, thinking.
Somehow paranoid you can feel me conjuring memories of us.
Maybe wishing you could feel it every time you come into my head.
Like a ringing in your ears.
So then I wouldn't have to be alone in all this turmoil.
Not tragic just inconvenient.
It's as if I have a fantastic vision for a painting but no brushes to stoke with.
I'm baffled.
And I don't know where to go from here.
This limbo, half self imposed.
The saddest thing though,
Is that I kind of relish those thoughts.
Because for now they make me feel not so alone.
© NDHK
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 6:44 AM UTC
A lifetime felt with cheating hearts all echoed from my past, the promises trues and I love you s were each so very ment to last, so fine was this time of sharing built with honesty and trust, these vows now left inside my mind to slowly gather dust, I struggle through tomorrow searhing for hope yet fall behind, while broken dreams and silent screams play re_runs in bmy mind, its hard to tell whats wrong from real when dark cover dim the light, I close my eyes and dream a dream of heaven everynite, its all I know this misery I hold no guiding hands, these scars I show a lesson that I yet dont understand, another day awaits me in this life I call my own, a cruel delay frustrates me as I face this world alone, ill let words once said and tears lonly sheded rest peacefully in my heart, cause I know the pain of love in vain will always play its part, so with open arms i welcome such new dreams that will arrive, i only pray to find one day, A love without goodbyes
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 10:45 AM UTC
I know you are better than that.
It angers and frustrates me how;
Childish and ill-disciplined you can be.
A motto in which you follow unknowingly,
"Think before"
"Act later."
Think about us.
Think of how people see you when you are like that.
It disappoints me and has drawn me
To the point of a deepening depression when it comes to mind.
To see your role model disobey and,
Throw everything they have taught you,
Out the window.
We learn by example but have you
Evaluated your actions, especially
The ones' you exhibit to us?
It's your time to make a change.
Your life will fall apart if this continues.
I write this as a wake-up call.
Not only because I love you but
To see you become a better person.
It is your choice.
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 9:53 AM UTC
Distended or disgusting,
too big never flat enough
our bellies dictate our worth;
bigger means money for food,
but not enough money for lipo.
Smaller means either
a) good genes
b) exercise
c) eating disorder.
Why oh why must we all be so enslaved
to our belly sizes?
It frustrates me to be frustrated with my belly
it never did anything wrong,
it's just not as flat as my 100 pound classmates
but it's still lovely.
It still digests food, and has a special little button to remember my birth.
Why must we hate these bellies so?
May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 2:44 PM UTC
there is something in me
that feels deceased when I think on you
my head sinks in sadness
of what might have been
you wanted to fix me
to be my knight in armor
I was your naughty little girl
"baby, you're the sexiest I've had"
you said
mommy took care of your every need
daddy would dance to rock & roll
siblings who laughed with you
you've never been lower than the clouds
my crazy frustrates you
you'll never understand
you found out the hard way I wasn't lying when I said I don't do monogamy
I have this infatuation
for guys who can't touch me
like I believe they can't hurt me
yet they ****** my heart up
as money found on the road
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
when people in america (or many other countries) say
"i have nothing to be thankful for"
it upsets me because
being "poor" in america is nothing compared to being
poor in many other places
it frustrates me that people with nothing to eat but grass can find
more
to be thankful about then
someone with endless possibilities of success
stop
complaining
about
what you
don't
have and be thankful
for everything that you
do
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
I feel angry
The kind of anger that builds up in your chest
The anger that frustrates you
And brings tears to your eyes
This anger
It's built up over the years
The anger from doing a wrong
Or the anger you hold back
Trying to explain yourself
I just feel angry
Angry from not being able to
Freely release
What's got me so
Angry
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 10:17 PM UTC
In misplaced demographics, an underlying figure
Gets lost in the middle of double-helixed bound’ry lines
Dissolving past parameters, confounding to the mind,
A deadlocked debate decides if pain or love is bigger
It’s like the world’s hardest riddle, answers buried deftly
That no savant or prodigy is able to surmise
And the truth does differ from what words can now describe.
I’ve learned that one can tread life’s forest with a steady course
And with the best of intentions and stark, concerted path
Turn winding bends ambiguous: mistake a birch for ash
So to end the tiring journey in tangent to its source
The nature of the Earth is neither white nor black
It’s more like the palate used when blue becomes grayish sky
But, then again, it’s not this easy to describe
Inside my head there lies a circuit, closed unto itself
So, through this loop I’ve learned to see the difference between
Progress and regression, what has been and has never been,
Is like finding from a deck why each hand differs that is dealt
But the answer matters not, for the circle spins again
It’s kind of like the ocean where the calm and break collides
But, then again, it’s not this easy to describe.
I’ve watched a daunting fog descend upon my clouded eyes
It curbs the hue of ev’rything to darker spectrum shades
So this shroud submerges light until definition fades,
Frustrates the sense of passion; luster steadily subsides
When the mind’s only window is comprised of rippled glass,
It’s like a drunkard’s double vision having not imbibed
But, then again, it’s not this easy to describe.
Each step I take grows even more uncertain than the last
If I could convey to you the shape of this confusion
If I could draw a diagram or picture of delusion
Then you and I might, together, construct and raise a mast
So with to steer life’s wayward ship back toward a purpose
At times, I’m unsure if living’s just learning to survive
So, in this pall, I reach you now, and in you I confide.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
I need to write; I have ideas swirling around my mind most of the time. But if I haven’t got somewhere or something to note these ideas down, they drift off, lost.
I’d like to think I’m a good writer, but I know I’m not. Or maybe I’m too self-deprecating. It’s a cultural thing with me, which I’m not going to talk about here at this time. Some other time will feel right for that.
Having said that, words come easily to me. I can create wordscapes with my writing. I’ll write about many things, about love, loss, death, desire, hope and defeat. The images I see when I pen something are real, the patterns the words create are tangible to me.
But I’m also a lazy writer. I love the fact I can find on-line a multitude of sites offering advice for writers, rules to follow to help make you a good writer. I spend a lot of time reading these. What I need to be doing is writing, not reading about writing! You will be amused how many novels I have started to write. Some have evolved into short stories, others into free verse poems. One day I may actually write the novel that’s in me; I’m certainly not short of ideas, when I remember them! And I have folders full of novels I’ve started. Some of them end up as short stories. Lazy, see …
What is hard for me is to focus that inner discipline to write. But when I do tame the procrastinating voices, words spill out in a rush of creativity.
Is that approach wrong? I feel guilty if I haven’t written in a while but I’m good at riding the guilt. Yet if an idea comes to me and then disappears, as is often the case, it annoys me. It’s like a dream you wake from and, for a moment, can remember it vividly, then it’s gone. You grasp at those wisps of recollection but they’re always just out of reach and it frustrates me when that happens.
Then there’s those times when creativity does burst out of me. Perhaps it’s the build-up of guilt that erupts creating a pyroclastic flow of ideas hurtling towards blank page. Liken it to an artist who splatters paint randomly on a canvas; unplanned and random, the words tumbling onto the page, vying for position, for supremacy.
I have to accept that this is the way it is, that’s the way I write. Perhaps after my death, people will say, “He was quite a good writer, shame he didn’t write that novel …
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 3:58 PM UTC
Some things I cannot resist; I blame my own self worth.
I got shot in a dream once...it didn't hurt.
The apple is never as sweet
as the whispered words that slither out of your mouth.
Still moonstruck, still insane,
You throw me straight into the flame.,
and I like the burn
enough to go back for seconds.
Because even though I don't owe you anything,
I feel an obligation, like muscle memory
it falls out my open mouth, gasping
to remember the last few fragments
of the nightmare you woke me from.
So here's to biting off more than you can chew,
and having no regrets about finding yourself
cracked beneath the covers, and disarrayed
among the reflections of mistakes already made.
Maybe I needed this
reality check. I'm on my own, I know.
The temporal frustrates me, the birds
fly south for the winter, I fly...nowhere.
Permanence is a dream as fleeting as
its own contradiction.
It makes no sense, but what did I
expect from you?
Do you remember the nights
we laid across each others ankles
to see if either would break under
the weight of the other?
These fractured bones
don't mean a thing. (promise)
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC