"hampered" poems
Forgive me dearest for my childlike ways;
Those dormant traits which never seem to die.
Forgive my foolishness and futile days,
Although when seized how quickly seem to fly!
A word well intended uttered in haste;
A cup of cold water spilling as tears.
Each dream shattered as days blend into waste.
Unspoken thoughts hampered by icy fears.
Nor am I gifted with spirit mature
Able to gratify impulse or whim.
Some enjoy life so capable and sure
Untainted by cold nature's hand so grim.
Thus musing upon grey veiled tomorrow
May we refrain from worry to borrow.
~Hilda~
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC
my day is naught but toil,
my night is naught but strife.
in my sleep i turn and toss
whilst a dream reflects my life.
why then does a smile chase these lips
and a twinkle tease these eyes?
are my furrowed brow and fists a-clenched
contentment in disguise?
Joy intrudes on every bitter moment;
joy heals wrathful thoughts and wounded ken;
joy thrusts forget on all my hurt
and joy gifts vigor to my pen.
O God, your chronic cheer may end,
see, your joy is hampered so.
your servant, i, will stretch it farther,
where it wills to break i cannot know.
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 12:58 PM UTC
the meaning of an apology:
echoes of a thousand I’m Sorry’s;
the silence of deceit, its awful slink;
the humbled hope to atone,
to pay amends where due,
to mend the maimed,
and trust renew.
forgiveness is a sad word:
it bears the scar of a wound;
to forgive is to hope with hurt.
it is to trust in tide to wash ashore;
for in lack of trust and hope,
it is noble to sink with the ship.
it is bolder yet to hop asea,
and let tide be guide.
the parable of the builders:
the wiser built his house on rock,
the rain came down,
the floods came,
the winds blew,
and beat on that house;
and it did not fall,
for it was founded on a rock
the foolish built his on sand,
the rain came down,
the floods came,
the winds blew,
and beat on that house;
and it fell — and great was its fall.
determination's downfall;
for, is a house still not a house
despite its foundation?
fortune's fortress looms;
our sandcastle holdfasts hampered in comparison,
but home is neither keep nor battlement,
neither moat nor bailey,
neither portcullis nor drawbridge;
home is where you touch the ground,
where you choose to grow...
the rain will retain its hiss;
but the rain is still the rain,
the floods remain the floods,
and the wind is just the wind.
~ Inori
Sep 6, 2021
Sep 6, 2021 at 7:14 PM UTC
I’ve never become low on my graveside attendance,
Victim , victim they call me, the moments I’ve been facing are abysmal,
Your voice, mellifluous, makes my world lucid, just like a blissful carnival
You fade away, so far away, in the shades of grey,
These black petals, merely dead, have witnessed a fray
Victim, an element of my soul, enshrouded in a stack of mud, in a desolated place,
My roots are too feeble to read that case
A fragmented mind, my hampered cognition, pictures you in the pleasing attires,
All I know are just my futile desires
Victim, they call me, when I visit your house, and grab those dispersed roses
A few letters garnished, just to seize my reaction,
Almighty has deceived me with his bitter, yet innocent abduction
Your warm breath, ventures me, like a spellbound,
Snivels, ****** tears, soaked up in the soil, I tend to hound
Victim, I’m a victim of my encapsulated love,
A victim of irrational fears, fallible against my taken vows
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 4:56 AM UTC
it's the morbid fear to tickle the pen against paper -
and behold; the fear to connect the matchstick to the taper
to stay on, till the sun shoots
to pick out thoughts, from their roots
counting syllables and rhyming words:
they don't matter much.
for look at the birds
they put freedom on your heart with a single touch
no
i can't rhyme no more no
my continuum is hampered
by your wholesome self oh so patient
quatrains and dissection no
feelings and love
and how i mutter words
this is how you make me feel, boy
incoherent yet filled with passion
i can't think but i managed a few adjectives for you
this is how you make me feel, boy
you bewilder me
and
oh
-
Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 10:28 AM UTC
Lost Soul, Not Searching
Looking for immediate relief
To cure you for the moment
Of your inner grief
Quick high, no time to cry
numb, false happiness takes over
Everything looks good
When you're climbing the white cliffs of Dover
Sadness hidden, mask protecting
Could be anyone inside
True identities gone for the moment
White blanket does so well to hide
Talk about the impossible
Everything seems so clear
no sign of darkness
only the light is near
Everything is achievable today
But what about tomorrow?
Start descending, blanket lifted
here comes the sorrow
The mask of reality hits
Starkness is a dampener
Mood sets in
Lost feeling returned, positivity is hampered
The possible now seems unachievable
This day now unmanageable
Light dims, darkness returns
Nothing seems obtainable
Not coping,
Once again choosing the direction of oblivion
Where all seems well
No one can tell
That internally you are struggling
Jan 20, 2011
Jan 20, 2011 at 11:59 AM UTC
Upon this poem I entertain relief,
From an uncertain journey with lack of reprieve.
A prayer delivers the same result,
A warmth in my being, an absolving of fault.
My thoughts are freed from their hampered state,
No longer caged by triviality or the dullness of fate.
Daily routine had exiled imagination,
But with this escape my thoughts upend reputation.
The daily grind had dampened my soul,
But looking toward heaven I envision being whole.
So small a thing to provide such release,
So fleeting a moment in a life so deplete.
But it’s just enough to keep madness at bay,
These times that I write and those times that I pray.
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 3:14 PM UTC
mecury dreams
begetting quicksilver thoughts
enticing in shape and shine, yet
fluid through grasping hands
time meanders, with little meaning
as roses wilt on the wayside
one note sounds a gong
reverberating in the distance
drawing me forward
all the time i am hampered
by the gathering up of past
I walk carrying a backpack
of badly folded origami dreams
hoping oneday they will be art
Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 2:26 AM UTC
When the crowds started their own Kristallnact
in the big smoke, it seemed Smaller
when tracing danger zones on maps, more and more
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx-
(Warning, X marks the spots that are burning)
It was a stampede of hooves money was lost on,
shattering windows and smashing streetlamps
and all the same, shrubs and roses were stormed on.
The horses don't have names anymore.
There are beings almost human
trapped in hospitals, trapped inside the women
not yet hampered by the world,
and those who created the women,
three decades before, sometimes
only a dozen years ago, somehow
still waiting and still wanting
another human being to be born.
If I could dream, I'd dance in my sleep,
but I am in the same stillness,
in the same uniform,
in search of footprints to follow,
for hunger, for scorn,
for dying flowers and an unknowable moon,
and the babies now laughing
and terrified and bored and the good ones
who fell in love with the wrong ones
or had too much, of the good or bad, too soon.
The only secret I've been let in on
is that it's the same when you die
as it was when you were born, but
all of a sudden, something small
in the churches and their clocktower clouds,
in the wires of a telephone,
in laughter in the sun,
is enough to allow sleep to come,
dreamlessly but peacefully,
inside knowing that even if we feel alone
we will always belong
to everything, everybody, everyone.
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
Today I felt the urge to fall down a flight of stairs, and when I say fall
I mean,
jump,
plummet
and plunge.
I wanted to feel something, a pain that wasn't already carried within me.
I could imagine the weightlessness I would have felt as my body relaxed,
how time would have appeared hampered as if altered by my sudden descent.
That numbing pain as each step would buffet my spine and finally the ominous silence that preludes my last breath while my misery pools around me glistening for all to see.
though sadly...
. I live in a bungalow
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 6:24 AM UTC
Sidestepping shadow-plays
boxed in bonus-sized portions
for garden-varietal religions,
I've had these scuzzy intimations
great big (voids) lie behind
most altruistic inclinations
and the biggest news is,
we're still expanding
with-in-exhaustible potentials
to be eternally filled greater.
Now I'll admit to being
hampered in my cognitive
capacity for meaningful
pattern recognition
by my debilitating
predisposition toward
concentrated forms of myopia,
ergo, I can't shape
a formless mess into anything
but incoherent flimflam.
I've tried alleviating this
condition with meditative
concoctions and palliatives
of sensory deprivation,
yet I fear I'll need
a silicon-chip-enhanced head
before I can glimpse
the cosmic legerdemain spinning
its paradoxes of endless
surfaces but no top.
If I finally do, I'll smile big
as a great-white gull winning
his first demonstration hand at
the three-card monte of not-to-be
reconciled contradictions.
May 15, 2010
May 15, 2010 at 9:41 AM UTC
This lockdown has refashioned everything.
Not only our daily work schedules,
But reduction in pollution and demand of fuels.
Yes it made us shut our places to worship.
But has opened a window to evaluate our personal relationships.
Now queues outside restaurants and cinema is absent,
But we have got time to ponder on our future and relishing our present.
This lockdown has refashioned everything.
Definitely you cannot travel and be social,
But this has taught you to go 'Vocal for Local'.
Yes it has hampered the growth rate.
But now we value whatever we have on our plate.
We have been quarantined in our own homes,
But now we know life is more precious than thrones.
This lockdown has refashioned everything.
May 31, 2020
May 31, 2020 at 3:20 PM UTC
Even at my young age I was suspicious of the easter confectioners.
Even while feeling the excitement rise, breaking into the thin cardboard casing
and unwrapping the fragile patchwork of chocolate,
even as I found the seam and tried and failed to make a clean break
even at that first crack, in my child-like cynicism I felt the disappointment
of the hollowness of an easter egg.
The half shell cradled the fallen fragments,
allowing me to collect every flake with a wet finger,
but still I felt cheated, more so as my mother insisted
that we save the rest til later,
her words somehow conspiring
with the glass and a half chocolate makers,
seeking to dress up the thin, brittle shell
to appear more than its fragile inadequacy.
Then grandad came
with a two pound purple brick of a bar,
fresh from his fridge,
and he challenge us to a bizarre dressing up feast
where we'd attack the mountainous chocolate
armed with a knife and fork, hampered by hat, scarf and mittens,
gambling against the next throw of the dice, against racing siblings,
to hatchet chunks from the heavy tablet
and shovel as many broken shards into our mouths
before, at the roll of a six, the woollen regalia was wrenched from us,
leaving us with only the prospect
of our empty shell of Easter disappointment.
Happy Easter.
Feb 13, 2023
Feb 13, 2023 at 3:17 AM UTC
Sleep is my greatest misfortune,
sleep...? Is my aberrant torture
Never been consumed by something like this before
My body is at war, overwhelming gore
My eyelids are folding over my body
As I roll into my flesh bed
I'm forced into a slumber,
my eyes are obliged to unnaturally stay vexed
I dream... or am I graveled?
My intellect is gulled, it affronts,
it soars into my heart
This is infernal, am I dreaming, or am I awake?
A vulture took my brain and put it on a stake
I took the "dream" and buried it all around
As I come back from my excursion
I am hampered, not manumitted
I'm underground
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 4:20 AM UTC
Vanquished by my hopes and dreams
Held hostage by reality
I stumble through this thing called life
A prisoner of mortality
I know not what tomorrow brings
My mutinous dreams have fled
My hopes have long since passed away
To never know where they led
Humbled by my crippled past
My spirit, weak and weary
By casting lots, I choose my path
My future, bleak and dreary
Hampered by my lack of faith
I wander to and fro
Absent from my hopes and dreams
I know not where to go
An abyss of hollow understanding
For nothing's as it seems
A life no longer worth living
That's barren of hopes and dreams
May 19, 2011
May 19, 2011 at 6:43 PM UTC
I miss her. That is all I have to say.
A single picture is all that I hold.
The night is not night, and the day not day.
When the story is left to be untold.
I silently beg for a second chance,
back into the lost and beautiful past.
My maladroit feet have halted the dance
and it has hampered the length it shall last.
Shakespearean Sonnet, a structured set,
for all the chaos that entices me.
The impending Omega sure will let
the cold winter tides return from the sea.
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Or shall I let thy anger push away?
Dec 16, 2011
Dec 16, 2011 at 7:53 PM UTC
Denatured barbie dolls bowling
over boys donning construction caps and
destruction maps making a highway
over natural habitats holding the
handle of cellar doors open and shouting
"dissent no more" please
implore me to bore you and
spit shine your mirror toe shoes
I know you once we met on the avenue
sector of humanity devoid of trees and
afraid of honeybees traffic tinged memories
haunting back down the street
hampered under sweaters and smelly socks wondering
how many feet beneath rocks something can escape
half baked holy water holding the cure of all curses and
worsening purple pillars of preconceived pastry dough
growing moldy head to toe finding flow
amidst garbage between sinking archipelagos
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
We walked through our youth filled time
Along a common path through life
I oft paid your tolls, you oft paid mine
Together we mastered our trail.
And you stood by me despite the wild and the sea,
Through both the straights and twisted routes.
And when off I forged for a new road home
You walked beside this fool, this me.
And next to you, I was glad to be,
As from your many storms you fought to break free
Though ruts and roots and thrown debris
Hampered your path, we cleared your way.
Then came that cross-roads, that vexed choice
Of different paths to follow ahead
And without even waving good-bye
We took our divergent roads away.
There was that day, I missed your voice
I forged the wood to find you on your path.
But I arrived on a path so strange to me,
I could not chart the course to you.
So back I walked to my own path.
And I missed you and I feared you lost,
So then, at each new crossroads I'd yell
For my old friend, but only silence came in reply.
Then ahead of me on my same path,
One day I met the one who'd share this walk with me.
What a joy to meet her on my same route,
Walking the same trail I had chosen.
So know, please, old friend, though our time
Met it's end, I walk now in joy
Hand in hand with a lovely soul
Who lights my path as I light hers
We chose separate byways long ago
But still I would like you to know
I found joy along my new path
And I pray that you have found it too.
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 11:31 PM UTC
Now is not a time for
Scissors
Threads woven here are not
hampered by distance not
distracted by the great bulk of
time's slow passage between their
Two keepers
The prevailing viewpoint:
Life is moot
Stands to be swallowed by
something
soon
Something wonderful with a
Fuzzy heart
Jul 21, 2011
Jul 21, 2011 at 12:02 PM UTC
*His eyes widened as he struggled for breath,
Almost as though he could see his approaching death.
His young face, puffy; his veins bulging out completely,
As he looked at the nurse seemingly begging for mercy.
But she didn't care, she only did as she was told,
As she removed the oxygen mask & the blanket that shielded from the cold.
And in that state he shivered and shook,
Labouring even harder with each breath he took.
His legs lay motionless, his arms hanging by the side,
Saliva dripping from his mouth down to his thighs.
His eyes searched mine, as though in [a] silent plea,
"Do something! Please help me!"
But alas! I was as helpless as he,
Powerless! Hampered by inability.
For the Fates had decided before hand,
To afflict him with a condition incurable by Man.
His eyes formed with tears clear as glass,
As though he realised the next breath might be his last.
Suddenly he let out a groan probably of desperation and pain,
And I beheld the life from his body drain.
His chest stopped heaving and suddenly everything was still,
His limbs had lost their vitality and will.
He died at a tender age with no family at his side,
With his final moments beheld by this stranger's eyes.*
R.I.P my dear. You will not be forgotten.
#BlueRain
iv. 06/10/16
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 8:05 AM UTC
Let me sing you to sleep
Let me have you to keep
Let me let you go
Help me let you know
You are free to fly
You are free to go
Spread your wings
At anytime
My butterfly
Let me caress your wings
Let me share with you the finer things
No one else ever has
Let me take the chances
Everyone was afraid to have
With you
Sing you
A song
Of love
A lullaby
A coo
Your fluttering flight
Through life to fight
To spread your wings
To greater heights
I am humming
To the beat of your heart
To let you know
You are safe here
You are home
Your colors never
Have to compromise
Your excitement
Will be not dampened
Your light
Will be not hampered
Your cup
Will be not empty
You are free to fly
Any time that you are
Tempted
Life is too short
To prevent you
From living it
That's why I'm
Giving it
All to you
A song
A chant
A lullaby
Of truth
As your wings develop
May my love envelop
You
Careful not to suffocate
Gentle is your transformation
Changing, growing
Becoming your
Incredible
Hue
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord your soul to keep
My butterfly, my lullaby
My sweetest sweet
If you should ever need to leave
Ever feel the need to breathe
Take my hand
Feel the release
Of being free
Free to return
Free to adventure
Just as I mentioned
Into the wild
The great abyss
I will give thee
A butterfly kiss
Twice on your cheeks
Once on your lips
Follow your heart
Around the world
My love will never wane away
My feelings will not shift for you
Tomorrow, Ten thousand years, or today
This unconditional vein of love
Will always be here
Waiting for you
To sing this
Lullaby
Of truth
Let me caress your wings
Let me share with you the finer things
No one else ever has
Let me take the chances
Everyone was afraid to have
With you
Sing you
A song
Of love
A lullaby
A coo
Remember the sound
Remember the song
Remember the humming
The drumming, the buzzing
The one that I've been singing
All along, your lullaby, your song
Flap your wings, feel the beat
Let the rhythm be the wind
Beneath
A song of liberation
Embracing the
Freedom within you
A lullaby for my butterfly
Fly away if you must go
As you spread your wings
Remembering
You always have
A home
Here
With
Me
© tHE tERRY tREE
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
he tries to appear
brave
pushing against
the updrafts
and when
he swoops he
appears as graceful
as ever
but I see his
struggle,
his panic,
where to go?
where to go?
what to do?
oh god
oh god
oh god
he thinks
I walk back
inside and watch
him for a time
he flies away
hampered by the
wind
and I wish him
god speed
home
Feb 28, 2011
Feb 28, 2011 at 12:00 PM UTC
The situtation shaken, he hampered
he destroyed , he bankrupted
he lost, he is dead, alively
Hope is there
Sunrays, Sunshines
Whirlpols
agendas
and the aims
Nothing can beat and take
the pop and genre of music
hips and hops of dances
lights and nights of a day
you have to live
and show
how one
must have to live
days might be brutal
nights might be cruel
worstness may **** you
****** the future of your wills
but don't worry
this time will go
to come true time
luck and chance
walk hand by hand
luck might have ******
but you will get another chance
that time
people might have said you
“Murderer ! Killer !”
But remember
you killed the insane
who must have to get killed
he destroyed your family
one by one
he finished you as being
step by step
you became demon from civilian
second by second
you are now in prison
your life is black
your surrounding is black
your oxygen, your carbohydrates
your **** , your blood
just black , black and black!
but don't forget
black is also color
from where universe has began
there was nothing
still there is nothing
you born as and with nothing
you have to make a change
in everything
society , your country
needs you
let your thoughts
influence and allow
them to taste of freedom
you have to set free
your body and soul
you have to live for
them as a member
of their extended family
Post Script
They killed his and like his
thousands of other families
he fought the freedom movement
against inhumanity and demons
the thought of change
has changed everything
prison bars have never
stopped his thoughts
but supported in building them
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 7:13 AM UTC