"overburdened" poems
They came into this world
Starving, pathetic, and in need of work
Computer beings seeking profit,
We called them millennials and,
Like bacilli to honey,
They will eat themselves to death;
I’ll be waiting with an open casket.
When the time comes,
Issued as both punishment and reward,
Fitted just for lazy things,
And it shall be translucent,
As all human desires are
An empty display
Of material just as ubiquitous.
I’ll be the funeral director,
Engorged by suffering,
When the time comes
I’ll be waiting with an open casket.
The skin that does not bleed
When struck, requires only a few
Strikes more,
The arms which do not tire
When pushed, require only a few
More loads,
The will that does not break
When overburdened, requires only a few
Lashes more—
When the time comes
I’ll be waiting with an open casket
And let the ocean, in pacificity
Carry them to the collective
Dead of this world, to churn in anonymity
For eternity; a true hell to the ego,
I’ll be waiting with an open casket
Just to send it off with a nudge.
Sep 29, 2019
Sep 29, 2019 at 12:34 PM UTC
The White Whale
She swam the gauntlet
Six times, seven
Then took a chance on love
And was rewarded
Far beyond her hopes and dreams
But now this eighth trip south
Much harder than before
And she so weary
Overburdened
Unesteemed
Then it went wrong
The water
Kind no longer
Tainted and impure
Took first her child
And then, no longer caring, she
When soon she came to rest
Among the rocks
Almost as if to say
You’ve cared not for my ocean home -
Now you must deal with me.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 6:28 AM UTC
ESKOM
Where do I start?
Writing this by candle light;
Yet today we are lucky,
Load shedding came early
The system is done,
Its broken, corrupt,
Time after time,
Excuses one after the next
Us we are lucky,
In some ways anyhow;
For we have a few means
To keep warm for now
Others are not,
In fact most are not,
They suffer, they die,
But ESKOM - care they do not
Yes it was once ok,
to be totally without,
But once electricity is introduced,
Its difficult to go without
Those who have the means
Have done what they can,
Generators, gas, solar,
Options are endless, but only if you can
To most the expense is impossible,
Of course we want solar,
We want clean energy,
Just like we collect rain water
Its nothing new,
Its now been decades,
Leaving people to suffer,
ESKOM one problem after another
Winter after winter
Just when its needed most,
ESKOM takes it away,
Light, warmth, taken away
People light fires with paraffin,
Then bring them indoors,
Just to keep warm,
In the morning they dont wake up at all
Where is investment in alternatives?
For ESKOM cannot go on,
As one of my cousins said -
The grid is often more off than on
I cannot complain,
Not for myself anyway;
I choose to live here
I'll do things my own way
But I do see suffering
Knowing a long winter is ahead,
With an overburdened health system,
Knowing every winter leaves people dead
How much longer will it take?
For ESKOM to finally close,
To open doors for others,
Its time to get rid of the coal
In a Country basking in sunshine
nearly every day of the year,
The lack of solar power is saddening,
And shameful, but ESKOM doesnt care
Yes we have fire,
But we also have rain,
Those two dont mix,
Cannot cook on fire in the rain
The saddest things is this,
That ESKOM just dont care;
Lives dont matter to ESKOM,
Anyway - they have their share
The few that can make do,
They can afford to.
So everyone else is forgotten,
Nearly 80 percent of the population
Its cold, its wet,
We cannot light fire,
If we do its outside,
Buildings no longer designed for fire
How much longer ESKOM?
Will you allow people to suffer?
Will you eat all the money?
Will you do this to South Africa??
We all hope for a brighter future; quite literally...."brighter" .. :)
Nomkhumbulwa **
May 21, 2022
May 21, 2022 at 12:13 PM UTC
Fat people canes
They buckle and break
Fat people canes
They smell faintly of steak
Fat people canes
Always arched
Fat people canes
Holding up the heavily starched
Fat people canes
Struggle down the street
Fat people canes
An aid for battered feet
Fat people canes
Support poorly distributed weight
Fat people canes
Caught within a sewer grate
Fat people canes
Can't handle the load
Fat people canes
Easing movements slowed
Fat people canes
Used to skewer crumbs
Fat people canes
Used to butter buns
Fat people canes
Prop for a hefty handicap
Fat people canes
Can't fit within a taxi-cab
Fat people canes
Deserve a wage
Fat people canes
Traded in for a Rascal with age
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
Marched in step
Toting a little red wagon
Stride carried pep
Dragging that little red wagon
Weathered in rust
Creaking in the sun
Covered in dust
It weighs a ton
Overburdened by basic trinkets
Remnants of Christmas 05
Macaroni made cumulonimbus
From school days off winchester drive
Photo of family for evidence
Not that it means a thing
Victim of malevolence
Thrown out in early spring
Winter brought about the cough
Toting a little red wagon
His whole system seems off
Dragging that little red wagon
He's feeling old
Went and turned lethargic
Held onto the cold
Wallowing in hardship
Deterioration apparent
There's something horribly wrong
Behavior aberrant
His strength is gone
Innocence in tow
Holding onto reactionary bliss
Writing name in snow
...Blood marked abyss
Death encroaches.
He falls before his little red wagon
A young boy approaches
And steals that little red wagon
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
little pink pills
designed to soothe the
overburdened mind
sleep never escapes me
serotonin has
or was I just a hamster
running in a wheel of
self destruction?
your imprisoned pet
to play with
only
when you felt like it
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 11:00 AM UTC
Although life makes me overburdened with A lot of loads of pains and a lot of sufferings,but I will not give up at all ... Always those one-thousand of miles of my long trip Start difficult ,but Everything will be better and wonderful ... Although people bother from all sides,but My faith in God will not let kneel down to anyone Except to the Al-Mighty God anytime ... I know that way is Very long in life ,but I will struggle to suppress all those bad factors That will let bend down anytime ... I am not that one who easily kneels down to circumstances,but I will stand up facing life with bravery of a fighter Who looks for that good way in life ... I never give up and I will not give up Simply because I have my own persistence and I have my insistence on my continuation in life Till the end ...........
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 3:47 PM UTC
There are those ugly burdens of life and We are greatly overburdened with those Absurd,ugly,and sad pressures of life ... We try to overcome those ugly pressures Of life ,but all in vain and hopelessly .... Unless we are standing on a hard ground, Then all we do is useless and absurd anytime ... Life pressures us to fight back its atrocities,but All comes uselessly and all in vain anytime ... _____________________________________________________________
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 9:51 AM UTC
Nat writes:
so many eddies colliding on the surface of a mighty river
yes, there is something otherworldly here
yes, even sacred,
in the finest sense of that overburdened word
Ah, what you speak of is
the very eye of God.
I see it in a Kaleidoscope of color
perfectly balanced yet
confusing all the same,
and the beauty of it!
A chaotic comfort like adrenaline.
The simple confidence of the knowing
held together by a single point of reference.
His bright eye the Fulcrum
o_________________________o
^
between:
The Sacred and Profane,
teetering in perfect balance
(For now)
between:
Respiration (The In) and Exhalation (The Out)
He resides in the pause between breaths
between:
Air and Water
(The Earth hovers within)
between:
Eyes Open and Eyes Closed
We live and die within the blink(s)
between:
Connectivity and Breakage
(Our true desires at the watershed of)
between:
Out Loud and Silent
(One without the other drives men mad)
Again Nat writes:
*we exist,
we edit,
our eddies,
our overlapping lives,
in a never ending series
of Venn diagrams
all delicately balanced
at a single point*
So perfectly stated.
The very eye of God.
Here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=rVKRRzaf21U
Sep 20, 2023
Sep 20, 2023 at 1:56 PM UTC
The god from the past came stalking,
Came clambering over the hill,
He’d woken first thing in the morning
With a hangover, fit to chill,
Those Roman debauches with grapes and wine,
The reds and the whites of the Tuscan kind,
The fruit of an overburdened vine,
Were sapping his energy still.
He’d rubbed at his eyes in the dawning,
And wondered where everyone went,
For nothing remained of the Roman baths
Not even a soldier’s tent,
And where was the maiden he’d last embraced
The sweet Lucina, so fair of face,
Whose long held virtue was laid to waste
When the force of his love was spent.
Invidia’s green and brooding eyes
Had watched as he laid her down,
Had mixed her potions to match his lies
As they struggled, there on the ground.
She thought, ‘No god should be so remiss
As to offer a rival a tainted kiss,
From now, I’ll act as his Nemesis,
He’ll sleep while the world turns round.
She poured him a draught of her potion then
The last of his thirst to slake,
Though Empires rose and fell again
She vowed that he’d never wake.
The buildings crumbled and turned to dust
As the god dreamt long of his love, and lust,
While Nemesis thought her scheme was just
And the field turned into a lake.
The ages tired and the gods retired
To their mansions, high on the mount,
But he continued to sleep and dream
More years than he could count,
The god slept through in a dream sublime
While generations were buried in lime,
Two thousand years was a blink in time
For the gods in their banishment.
He woke on a chilly Autumn day
And found himself in a lake,
Shivered once, and then strode away
For his heart had begun to ache,
He walked down into a valley plain
Green and fresh in the Autumn rain,
When out of a tunnel streamed a train
With a scream, and the squeal of brakes.
‘By Juvenal!’ cried the god in shock
As the carriages streamed on by,
Then up above, like a giant gnat
A vehicle flew in the sky.
‘The world has changed since I fell asleep
The gods have fled to the mountain keep,
And men have conjured a giant leap,
The world has passed us by!’
He ran headlong through the tunnel
Hoping to find Lucina again,
And that was the great explosion that
Nobody could explain.
The diesel engine was rendered flat
With carriages piled on top of that,
While Nemesis on the mountain sat
Her tears flowing like rain!
David Lewis Paget
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 8:49 PM UTC
It is here at the point where no life exists
where shadows lurk and life is made
while Creation does nothing but watch itself
in a hole that never ends
Ether dances and joke at beginnings of dust
as we bring to life that which longs to smell
misty dew, try luck and fate on stages of illusion
Here we eat pomegranates in custard
apple skin, breathing in salty spice from
pink peas in tunnels of horns
here throats are channels of finality
columns of joy in hope
Here silence is the loveliest sound
sights contest to bloom on trees of golden chandeliers and flimsy nightgowns after
dinner mints
At this point of open fluid blueness
sightless serpents mingle with lights down
their spines
bracken love is made then broken like
crockery on a shelf overburdened with fear
At the beyond orange magic exists in
hair without roots, round and round
in bones without marrow, mouth to tail
as God puts together noses and arses
makes granite curves with candy floss fingers
Here man is woman, woman man
goddesses in curls and red sequined
slippers witness Tarzan at work eating
pineapple with prickles, tongue to tongue
Here a point becomes the only space
space falls into time, time into circles
numbers into letters, letters into nothingness
while black Persian cats cavort on blankets
of faith
At the beyond things jump and don’t move
spring by standing still, guitar notes run
along in blessed focus, locked in flights
of danger
Here you fall and fall, scream a soundless scream ~ blond lashes in a teacup filled
with **** and ***** where a flame is
not a straw to hang on
At the beyond it is so !
Sep 9, 2025
Sep 9, 2025 at 6:13 AM UTC
You stole my breath
but needed only ask.
Gave love freely
and demanded the same back.
You took no ****
so never gave one.
You showed me the way
- my eyes followed you -
to feel no regret.
You were bold and brazen,
I was empathetically italicized,
leaning on you
in times of duress.
You gave and gave and gave and gave and gave
two-bit trinkets
half-assed like alimony.
I took and took and took until
I was overburdened and
rooted in place.
You walked away like an action hero
and never looked back.
You showed me the way
- my eyes followed you -
straight out the window.
Yesterday you gave
me a call. Said
you were fine.
I didn't ask
if you felt my eyes
searching you out
in dreams,
digging deeper through memories
to us, together.
You teaching me to love
selfishly,
showing me the way you did.
My eyes followed you,
followed yours
following her,
and you showed me the way
you felt no regrets.
Perhaps sometime I can show you
how I find my way
straight out the window
and let your eyes follow me
down.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 9:35 PM UTC
We reach a time in our lives
Shuffling along our own dusty highways
In the warmth of a whisky stained dusk
Watching the honeyed heat of our future seep along the horizon
Into bruised sky of overburdened past
We each meet the same crossroad of decision
The two sides of our soul extending welcoming arms
As we stand, a prize in the feud between mind and heart
Practicality and passion
Security and sensuality
Who am I to choose which gravelled path to follow
Whether to take the wrinkled hand of prudence
And crunch the stones of wisdom and logic with each familiar step
Does my future lay ahead
At that point where the sun kneels to kiss the ground
And throws its glowing arms across the earth in a blanket of safety
Not in passion, but affection
In the comfort of routine
The reliability and purity of what is, and what has always been
Or does it sit within the flicker of a fiery heart
In the sigh of breath that creeps along with the breeze
That trickles down my spine
And dares me to turn my head, to look down roads of impenetrable darkness
To embrace the possibility of the unknown
And the leaping tongues of flame that might lie where those paths end
To be engulfed, and to know myself within that destruction.
Is it the voice that whispers inside my veins
"should there be more than this?"
I stay static
Leaderless
A spectator to the conflict of the soul
Stuck fast in a deadlock of inertia and indecision
Awaiting that moment
When the last glimmer of sun has bled through the cracked earth
And I open my blurred eyes to icy silence, shapeless and pure in its clarity
To see, without obstruction
That the decision is clear.
My future transparent.
That there was only ever one road I could take.
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 3:46 PM UTC
Along the far wall
beneath the outstretched
limbs of jacarandas
I see him walking
each morning at
his constant time
even when the sun still
half asleep hides behind
overburdened clouds
Sometimes he
waves and
sometimes he
smiles but
mostly he just
walks on looking
down the road to
where I wonder
And I only
watch him briefly
now and again
on days when
I am able and
on days when
I am not I know
that he is there
Until the day when
I look out and see
that he has reached
his destination traced
by constant footsteps
beneath the outstretched
limbs of jacarandas
along the far wall
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
If it were up to me,
I'd let myself rot here
Drowned in my cotton sheets
And allow my skin to finally sink
In between the gaps of my rib cage.
Rot and
putrefy and
fester and
ooze,
Flesh dripping off bone,
So this stink of my own decay may be apparent to me alone no longer.
Senses overburdened by defeat.
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
I collect my tears
Never to loss that emotion
To the floor below,
Happiness
Sadness,
Pain,
Joy,
Stored never to let them go,
When ever I feel
Overburdened,
I take a drink
Droplets
Clear,
Pure,
Transparent,
Emotions, an elixir
These tears sooth the pain,
I have shed so many,
Some moments,
Others for days,
I never let them evaporate,
Collected them once again,
If tears ever decide to fall.
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
Cruelty and savagery explodes upon our streets
violence multiplies in every part of society
nobodies safe in the urban jungle or their homes
promises to cure the soaring carnage has failed
deaths go on as the young rule many no go areas
where is the law and order to protect the people
why are the taxpayers pockets endlessly drained
there is still too much ground left blood stained!
Emergency services being attacked on their call outs
hospital staff assaulted in Britain's A and E units
trying to help all the thousands of drunken revellers
as those giving support are being put under pressure
decision makers seem to live in a different dimension
as their statistics down play just what is happening
out in the harsh concrete and tarmac jungle no control
if gangs and criminals power grows evil will take its toll!
Law and order has been dissipated society breaks down
as with official bureaucracy we all shall drown!
This could apply to anywhere on our overburdened earth!
TheFoureyedPoet.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
Drops of salt stayed on
Un-wiped on her hollow cheeks
As if to bear down her overburdened life
With the load of un-shed tears.
Her trembling hands, were weak from work
Her palms felt heavy, as her kids held on
Her chest was filled with love and warmth
Her eyes kept winking, as if to keep away fear.
Her kids - her treasures, how could she preserve
Her only refuge now was her mother's lap
And that was where she headed now
To mark an end to the troubled souls.
She bought them balloons, candy and ice-cream
As they walked towards the welcoming beach
She walked slowly, clinging tiny arms
And soon the salty waters, were licking their feet.
Nov 18, 2011
Nov 18, 2011 at 8:48 AM UTC
The way we don't joke.
The way we sometimes never do.
The tendencies of overburdened humans.
Internalizations.
Expanding walls.
******* up what matters most.
Never playing host.
Chicken flavored gummy toast.
Rhyming **** that don't make sense.
Putting up with ignorance.
Thoughts of death and suicide.
Neglect on ******* override.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 1:51 AM UTC
She took a hesitant first step
Closer to bay.
Sand crunched under her toes,
And cold slapped her ankles,
As a wave broke upon the shore.
Receding waters,
Left her tilting like creaking post,
Overburdened with laundry.
Surprised, she jumped backwards
Retreating to the sane solid ground.
But sanity lost,
To the wild, tempestuous sea.
Jul 16, 2019
Jul 16, 2019 at 4:49 AM UTC
well, it was hardly or ever would be a respectable
musicology with mere rhyme; so we overburdened it
with ideas, those pit-stops of thinking,
those pivots of the former fluidity
that gave us Achilles... long gone
the respectability of not thinking,
so waiting awaiting the respectability of thinking
to un-think the existence of thought
rather than the existence of god...
i say forget atheism, and reading philosophical
books kept till old age of respectability,
those books are nothing but dust by then...
but i'm in agreement with the attack,
for who would want to sing a rhyme with mere echo,
the ulterior ego... to sing for a tennis match
of resounding a# a#, b b, c c, encoding our children
to merely encode rhyming patterns?
for fear of the loss of mimic or replica?
if i were a kid i'd love to rob her majesty's vessel
and encounter adventure than bookworms sneezing
dust for kindred death with Spinoza chiselling
optometric devices on a lesser scale in comparison
with telescopes - Amsterdam seen from a far far away
galaxy; if only you stood there, and experienced
the freedom that prostitutes govern in this city;
if only less legislative powers in your politics!
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC
You know for several weeks, even months
I lost the inspiration to put pen to paper
But since coming back here my mind is overflowing once more
Life is such simple thing
But now overburdened by technical things
Nature is such a simple process
But now overburdened by genetic improvisation
Love, the most simple and natural process of all
But now overburdened by the need to outdo the girl next door
Keep it simple for a better life
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 5:56 AM UTC
Sleep and wake in fear
Spirits cause everything
Consultations and exultation to a deaf God
Fast and pray lest you fail
God is hardest to please
God is dead to us
We buried him in ignorance
False prophets - our ancestors danced with them
False prophets - our parents fell victim
False prophets - we are enslaved
I see this
I see that
Our demons never fight
The salt and oil we douse at midnight
They protect us
False prophets- we listened
False prophets- we believed
False prophets- we are enslaved
Wives hide nakedness from husbands
Strip from cloth to thought for them
Faith overburdened with naivety
Knowledge that redeems,
Lost to teachings of captivity and unrighteousness
False prophets - our ancestors danced with them
False prophets - our parents fell victim
False prophets - we are enslaved
The greed that keeps them afloat
Sinks our soul and glory in muddy waters
Shame only comes at the end
The end comes at our loss
We fear those we should love and love those we should fear
False prophets!
Jul 6, 2021
Jul 6, 2021 at 8:39 PM UTC
Golden haired and handsome, Joe seemed to have it all.
He’d won a PAC 8 championship just that previous Fall.
Surely the Heisman would be his; another prize to win.
He started strongly, at least at first, but would falter at the end.
Joe Roth had Melanoma and it ravaged skin and bone,
It was a lonely battle, the hardest fight he’d known.
Joe Roth was a gamer who would strap his helmet on
and go out on the gridiron though his strength was nearly gone.
He knew that he would not grow old, or play the game for pay.
In this final autumn of his life he merely wished to play.
. Despite fatigue and nausea he still made every start,
Until his game clock ran out on an overburdened heart.
There’s a moment when the cheering stops, when a man feels most alone;
blind-sided by a tackle while checking down against the zone.
When game clock seconds tick away and the outcomes not in doubt
Joe stood tall in the pocket even when it was a rout.
He gave the game the best he had, then it was his time to go.
He was an All- American, and no ordinary Joe
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 8:55 PM UTC
Cloistered momentary sanctuary
Meditating adjacent action
Instancing outside existence
Breathing irritatedly
Situation seemingly undone
Overburdened concentration
Gathering what can be
Searching floor and sky
Nothing to be found
Bound to this place
Where we are to die
Dec 24, 2017
Dec 24, 2017 at 3:24 AM UTC