Galvanising poems on Hello Poetry

Ovi-Odiete Jul 2016

Bewildered and haunted through flashes of memories that relive themselves
I sit and ponder and look into the sky
there is no pain greater than been lost in SELF
battling with a STRONG shadow called SADNESS
she stalks and haunts and bring you moments of agony
she comes along with her sister ANGUISH
and they taunt you,
galvanising and pinpointing your mind to the PAST you left behind

OH SADNESS!!!!!
have you not rendered men a roaming wretch for years?
are you not content with the tears you have drank from your millions of subscribers?
are you not pained because of happiness and her many gifts?
when will you leave the vulnerable ones and stop feeding on their weaknesses?
for how long will you continue to taunt MEN with their horrible past and perceived failure?

You are hopeless and weak and so you feed on people's misery alongside with your heartrending sister called ANGUISH
Leave us alone,
for we do not want to commune with you
you are meant to die alone,
but you have garnered so many souls as your followers
reminding them of their most terrible past
conjuring pieces of AGONY
and feeding them with misery's venom
you are a witch SADNESS
and you dwell in the dark
you mesmerise us with beautiful tragedies and allure us into your cavernous seeking kingdom

ARISE
eschew sadness
before she infects you with her incurable disease
SADNESS has no home
and so she roams*

Ovi Odiete© 2016 All Rights reserved.

Poet's Notes about The Poem

Sadness engulfs the heart and mind and all that is left is gloom.

I was inspired by an intelligent and advanced Poet from Writer's Cafe called Sheila Bowler Kline who wrote a heart moving poem titled MISERY and so I began writing. I must say she is gifted and write from the heart. Here is the poem below written by her and published on Writers Cafe

MISERY

BY SHEILA KLINE © 2016

Not a poem, not a story..........just random thoughts about MISERY! Oh, how it seems to permeate the soul of this writer far too often! Shake it off, stomp on it, run it away yet it ever finds a way of coming back far too often!
Perhaps a bit macabre, but then again, I am passionate about that which I feel within the depths of my marrow!

Misery

O' Misery, why do you plague me with your incessant railing every conscious moment of the day and suffocating hour of the night?

Are you not galvanized enough by tending to the dead who beg to return to the land of the living—skipping and frolicking with fate that swings like a pendulum ‘cross tombstones glistening under a moon made fat by the ingestion of a cycle of the universe?

You torment the living with your unwelcome presence. You take residence with the weak who suffer, slurping their lifeblood to quench your perpetual thirst. You craft a vacuum in man's psyche where joy once flourished as you wound your victim with anguish, making certain to cauterize lacerations that ooze any inkling of happiness.

You count the seconds, keeping tally of moments of vitality ready to unleash a counter attack to hasten the time of their demise. Weakness empowers you like rotting carcasses strewn across the Battlefield of Life strengthens the very soil they now litter.

You are wretched, toting gloom in a haversack of tricks. You were destined to bring grief to man before you were conceived. Calamity is your self-designated birthright. You arrogantly swagger through unending tunnels of doom to cavort in a sarcophagus unsealed by your penchant for woe.

The only light is that of your pride reflecting from the bleached bones of those who have been snuffed out by your doggedness to award them residence in your bastion of suffering. A lantern may flicker yet your foul breath smothers it before it lights the tinder and thus a flame of hope.

Those you infect with your virus of despondency pass it on one to another in a never ending stream of tragedy and despair. Misery, you are a driven contagious force that cannot stop as you have an insatiable appetite to commune with your casualties - "Misery loves company".

Sheila Bowyer Kline©2016

"If misery loves company, misery has company enough." - Henry David Thoreau

#sadness #misery #anguish #oviodietepoems #whensadnesshaunts

Jill Oct 1

Old coping mechanisms

I never knew about
The inert filler that
Improves the qualities
Of the concrete anchor

I hardly thought about
The thick filaments that
Increase the tensile strength
Of the synthetic rope

I didn’t care about
The galvanising that
Protects the mild steel
Of the Eye Bolt Head

   Fabricated weighted-strong,
   For time of tribulation
   Steady, ready, learning-long
   For heavy education

   Vital use in stormy flash
   For fear of wave-washed going
   Murky lessons foamy crash
   Tough-moored for gale-smash knowing

   Solid, loaded, hefty force
   Surge-squall saviour, tempest keep
   Any storm will blow its course
   Even so, still draws us deep

   In calmer times the sinker line
   Anchor-bound and concrete-lagged
   Will tether us in place and time
   Hinder-hitched and progress-dragged

I no longer need it
My concrete anchor that
Saved the young child
Who weathered the storm

©2024

BLT Webster’s Word of the Day challenge (tribulation) date 30th September 2024. An experience that causes someone to suffer.

#wordoftheday #coping

Leo Kendrick Mar 2021

Thinking In Storms

It came to be; tufts of time were grazed upon by anteaters who were the     spatial creatures,

           You can hear the foliage of time being nibbled away, savoured, never a meal rushed.

            I sit with the leprechauns of the day's thoughts, the storm approaching, clear evidence

           God is breathing. Like me, God is a thinking man - thinking in storms, never galvanising.

The television, switched off at moonfall, broadcasts an audible & contented peace,

           Among kingdoms of man-made things, all have their private heroes & recalcitrant hobos.

            I sit and listen to the storm like an awkward student meeting his idol under intellectual mistletoe,

           On the ricepaper of my mind; inscriptions, barely inked, they all speak the language of Place.

The letters are in the correct holes, the bronze napkin ring holds the
soft blue earth,

           Hundreds of people crying suddenly stop. Guilt falls like an avalanche of gulls.

           Squared-off lawns giggle over the gutter's edge, through the night's muted hedgerow,

           I ask an orphan for directions, he points to the wilderness with his spare foot. I follow.

My eyes are bare and my feet feel the moist cicadas and my wings become theirs,

           A thousand people stop crying. They see that Life can go no faster, and love is an unused motor.

           And the sparrow's claw is aware of its purpose, the wind swims between my ribs & whispers...

           "I've seen it work before." Memory's from the future; spume of something greater.

Ryan O'Leary Jan 2019

Plan BBB

Brexit's Being Bruged
even more, as we speak.
Jacob Rees-Mogg, the no
******* Catholic with his
Opus Deity Doctrine of
self importance, just put
an oxidised gauntlet over
the red hand of Ulster,
galvanising the border
with a corrugated vision
obscured by Myopia.

— The End —