"nitpick" poems
staring at the blank page
i find myself thinking
quite low of myself.
wondering to myself
absently muttering out loud
as if adding more sound
to the white noise
will give me a sense of validation
that i still exist.
the hum of the laptop
and turquoise hexagon sun
mixes with the sound
of the car doors closing outside
and the people sitting
in their chairs, lazing about
staring at the television screens
what else can i hear?
closing my eyes, i stop
taking a moment
to let my worried mind rest
forgetting about my financial crisis
to bathe in the sound
of my silence.
with my eyes closed
i type with confidence
i don't fear my words
when i can't see them
my eyes feel hot
under my dark eyelids
as heavy as they are
i am surprised i don't
slouch and fall into slumber
right here in my chair.
in the second it takes
to flutter open my eyes
and reread the words i just wrote
i have to remember
to stop myself before i nitpick
and change what came
from my heart
and at the time felt right.
if only
i went through life like this more often
then maybe i wouldn't feel so down
or hard on myself
because honestly i'm not that bad
nor am i as dumb
or silly as i feel
and maybe next time
when i go ice skating
i won't be such a little *****
about how i look to other people.
Nov 6, 2012
Nov 6, 2012 at 9:07 PM UTC
Can't talk about, can't write about, a single thing but loving you
Don't mean to schmooze, my shameless muse, always down for aimless cruise
stare through window glass at tunnel lights that zoom straight past our heads
I walk on air, dodge solar flares, ignites my mind when I'm in bed
I can't stop, cotton to moth
brushstrokes swirl upon the backdrop
slumping over center console
dream about centaurs and scary monsters
shake me awake and tell me its okay
I know it is but it feels better that way
And I feel a nostalgia a sense of old security
the same I got when I was young and fell asleep to the TV
underneath the afghan with unwravled threads and fraying ends
hold onto me while I nitpick the same old **** inside my head
I can't stop, cotton to moth
brushstrokes swirl upon the backdrop
slumping over center console
dream about centaurs and scary monsters
shake me awake and tell me its okay
I know it is but it feels better that way
Tell me baby is it true?
Should I ride or die for you?
can I be your passenger?
or do you find me lackluster?
I can't let it be the thought of you and me
scared that our future is tragic history
and every time I find myself ready to shift gears
something holds me back, some aching type of fear
I can't stop, cotton to moth
brushstrokes swirl upon the backdrop
slumping over center console
dream about centaurs and scary monsters
shake me awake and tell me its okay
I know it is but it feels better that way
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 6:03 PM UTC
We’ve been herded by hook and crook,
To obey convention, and read textbook.
The uniformity is maddening,
And the subjects are baffling.
The whole wide world is grand and open;
Why cordon the mind off in a tiny token?
Rules were meant to be broken,
To usher change and issue motion.
Creativity, art, they build up cultures,
Not to be picked at by robotic vultures.
They always nitpick and they scavenge,
Intent on making things a challenge.
Passion is the cornerstone of all,
It survives when things are squall.
It’s the sun that rises within you,
Makes you things you never knew.
Question everything, for your good;
You’ll find more than you ever could.
Explore everything, be curious;
For the world out there is glorious.
Challenge everything, be skeptical;
Your brain is knowledge’s receptacle.
Think outside, and break the rules;
Don’t blindly follow, like the fools.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
It takes one to know one swift fell swoop
like a bat out of hell and certainly the belfry.
If you've something to prove to the birds and the bees,
I won't bat an eye at your rhinoplasty.
I'll take two hoots, 'cause I sure won't give them.
Find somebody else to get up and go;
I cry like I fly like a carrion crow
and I've two left feet and no time to tango.
It takes three strikes 'til it's not just company
any more — it's a crowd and my agoraphobia
is making this worse, so I might disperse.
If you don't quite care, let's put two and two together;
playing pretend we're birds of a feather.
I could commend, but that's such a no-no;
you're more like a doornail to me, less like a dodo.
And if you don't much mind, I might just take five.
I'm chicken-livered, but at least alive
though I feel like a dead duck, dusted and done.
I won't be there, I'll stay fair and square,
right back at square one.
Now can you see how this is cyclic?
Makes me feel one sandwich short of a picnic,
up the wall, and driving me sick.
Apologies, I don't mean to nitpick,
and I know I've a number of bees in my bonnet,
but I've zero interest in your haiku and sonnets.
So here's one for the road,
turn by the way the devil drives you home,
and one good turn deserves
another.
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 3:58 AM UTC
I am the awkward treble cleft resting against your crescendo heartbeat
All the while thinking "I don't think Mozart could have ever written anything as beautiful as your breath"
And I bet when God made you, part of the angles choir found itself nestled in your vocal chords
Comfort
Like a down blanket you wrap me in the silk strands of your forearms
And all I want to know is how you got these scars
My guess is you fell to hard for a girl who was never your favorite song
And you had to nitpick the sour notes of her broken promises from your skin
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 11:09 PM UTC
One small gripe dropped
On me over our morning meal
Unusual coming from
Across the breakfast plates
Your grimace
Accentuated what was labeled
A slight beef
To begin the day
About last night
When all of our world
Was supposedly sleeping
Most of the covers
Gathered on my side
Of our sleigh bed
Tucked around me
At least this nitpick
Was something tangible
Unlike the night before
When I danced all night
With your sister
In your dreams
While you were
Left sitting
on the sidelines
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 12:37 PM UTC
twiddle, nitpick, hyper aware
look around, distracting sound
simmer down, hair twirls around
finger fidget, anxious stomach
look around, distracting sound
concentration, familiar loss
finger fidget, anxious stomach
quick to pass on own comfort
concentration, familiar loss
staring, story supposition
quick to pass on own comfort
skip the line, go hungry
staring, story supposition
crowds, cliques, an anxious tick
skip the line, go hungry
unacceptable alibi
crowds, cliques, an anxious tick
butterfly squirms, I choke on it
unacceptable alibi
crazy claim, you're insane
butterfly squirms, I choke on it
hate, hate, hate; I choose to quit
crazy claim, you're insane
help me function normally
hate, hate, hate; I choose to quit
perseverance; out, not in
help me function normally
love me unconditionally
perseverance; out, not in
something's wrong, help me mom
love me unconditionally
twiddle, nitpick, hyper aware
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 11:28 AM UTC
This man is sweet-tempered.
He can fill a whole room with nice aroma.
When others are in need of closure,
You can always count on him to take you to rosier.
In perspective of others,
They like to nitpick on his features.
His voice, his appearance, his everything.
Their behaviour is simply captious.
What I see is an angel descending from above,
A heavenly aura seemingly palpable.
With his winsome smile and his feathery wings,
His figure is outrightly unmistakable.
I love his cordial behaviour.
Whenever he talks to me,
I can’t help but release sweet laughter.
In a room filled with tenebrosity,
He can light up the room with his jubilant energy.
In the tranquility of the night,
He is the moon and stars.
In the amidst of darkness,
He offers bountiful open doors.
Life without him wouldn’t be the same.
In the darkest of times,
He’s my guide to my pride.
The only person to keep my sanity high.
Mar 30, 2025
Mar 30, 2025 at 11:45 PM UTC
And they say we're rude
But we're shaking in our shoes
Anxious "Hellos" and "Goodbyes"
Quivering lips dribbling "Thank you's"
And endless "I'm sorry's"
For breaking outdated unspoken rules
In old, weathered eyes
We're just young, disrespectful fools
You had your struggles
We have ours
Now you sit and nitpick
While our world's still vast and far
From waitresses juggling plates
To secretaries scheduling dates
Please be patient, just wait
In this moment, we're carrying all we can take
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 9:48 PM UTC
Being silent
Against adversity
From the small minds
That chatter about
Nothing but your character
The elephant in the room
Left unseen
Rather nitpick on how
The ant across the river
Goes about its routine
High fives for the small
Minded individuals that gather
Being silent
There's nothing wrong
With being quiet
It's an art which
Many have yet to master
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 7:02 AM UTC
By the way.
I'm not doing anything later.
If you don't have any plans, why don't you throw on some sweats.
Your favorite ponytail and we'll find something on TV.
A little Netflix and chill.
A little takeout and random channel flipping.
A stimulating conversation about old times. Inspiration.
Our dreams. What we hope to be.
I'll call you soon as I settle in.
Hop out of the shower.
Nitpick about the way that you've been on my mind.
The smell of incense and cocoa butter rubbed smooth on your skin.
It doesn't have to be anything spectacular.
A moment filled with the click of heels.
Just the simplicity of a moment filled with you
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 6:10 AM UTC
so I take a break from being profound , a
minute to be whom I am,
a minute to be real for you,
for all no favors needed,
if not for all you nice people here
on Hello Poetry,
there is no telling where I would be,
so take heed again, at my admonishment,
perchance or don't, you
all are great people , even those who nitpick or make
sly remarks,
that is part of life
and you have given
me one. Thanks!
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 6:39 PM UTC
I hate my birthday
It’s never been about me or what I want
It’s always been about accommodating other people
And after spending a week trying to find a restaurant that will fit everyone’s needs
FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY
They still have the audacity to find something to nitpick and voice their annoyed opinions
I hate my birthday
Everyone expects you to be happy and cheery
If you're not exactly what they need you to be to make them feel good about themselves then they give you **** for it
I should get an Emmy for my acting skills
I haven’t had a good birthday since I can remember
My family doesn’t know that
They think I love my birthday every year
They notice what suits them
My birthday has been a dreaded day since I can remember
I’m a good actor but keeping up the act non-stop
And amping it up on special occasions it gets really tiring
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 11:47 PM UTC