"peevish" poems
Four walls; a pair of cupped hands.
Jaundiced like an open eye; an open cove
Prescribing solitude to those whom solitude cannot withstand,
And I choose this cold corner which is furthest from the door,
To be where I am not, before
Your proclivities become my own, I write. I write,
My window holds my breath and frosts the world,
The moon in his amber gown, dressed in chatoyance and spite,
Godspeed; dark, dark shroud for naked skies!
Six floors, walls, doors from you am I.
I couldn't write when the sun peered in,
Her inquiry evangelizing the specks of time left upon the glass -
I've heard it all before; God's shining face leaves none unloved (unseen)
but his spotlight has no starlet; so who can see me up here?
We can't see from windows, dear.
I'd live and sing for the cloudless hall
The nursery of misanthropists crawling on the grey cobblestone
And the lilt of the wind on the rose; through squares nice and small -
The peevish moth shudders at the sight of itself obscuring the day through the glass.
It seems we're always in the way.
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 5:40 PM UTC
Ignorance is bliss,
really,
more like Stupidity.
an aspect,
benefiting a person,
like cold sore,
irritating,
an annoyance,
peevish to your life.
Face it, honey,
you’re as fake,
as your personality.
You’re plastic,
I could melt you,
if I truly desired,
setting a lighted match,
to your artificial body.
Please, take some advice,
lay off the make-up,
you look like a clown,
maybe a **********
Tanning is acceptable,
but looking dark orange,
is outrageous.
There is no need to look,
like you just rolled in bag of Doritos,
that’s Snooki’s Job.
There is more to life,
besides appearances,
waking up like P. Diddy,
sweet heart, don’t like be Kesha,
it’s ******
Partying is enjoyable,
but not necessary every night,
consisting of drinking,
frat boys, jocks, pretty boys,
saying “oh my god”,
or “I broke a nail”,
and precarious ***
I know you were raised with Barbies,
but you don’t have to be one.
Barbie is a piece of plastic,
containing no originality,
with an unfeasible body,
and isn’t real,
much like yourself.
Stop with the act,
no one wants to be,
around a person,
who is often intoxicated,
narcissistic,
and a ditzy *****
You can be a girly girl,
but be genuine,
stop being a follower,
if everyone jumps off a bridge,
then you’ll be splattered,
upon the ground with them,
no use to anyone.
My words are probably useless,
going right through the holes,
of yours ears,
attached to the plastic head of yours.
Anyways, I tried,
as excruciating as it was,
to reach out to you,
who are living this life,
of alleged greatness,
more like a travesty,
in my eyes.
Hopefully, you’ll change,
wake up from this social stupor,
become yourself,
regain your individuality,
and cease to be,
a Barbie doll.
Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 2:54 PM UTC
Inside the bearded man,
The crying baby lies
The disarming face is gone
The flowery flesh is worn
And nobody wants to rush in
To his peevish petulant cries
And wipe his bottom or eyes.
He's in a pitiful mess
But the middle-aged man
No matter how hard he tries
Cannot command the love
That came free with his innocence
He bawls in vain in his pain
Such comfort will never never come again.
4.1k
Peevishness is an indigo plant
How could it not be peevish?
It's supposed to be green
How is it absorbing sunlight?
Where is the chlorophyll?
How is this happening?
This isn't what is supposed to happen
What the heck will its flowers look like?
Will THEY be green?
What creature would eat or pollinate
An INDIGO PLANT?
A manticore? A kelpie?
...
Calm down, indigo plant
You have a purpose for being this way
Let it be
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 6:41 PM UTC
College Life……!
My heart peevish for some time, so beautiful were college life,
No one can ignore to discuss, That how was his college life,
At the time of admission we said, so long is our college life,
The first step was to admit at college, The second was to retired from college life
Then to sat in class first year, We take start for college life,
But after very little period of time, First year were ignored from college life,
Then on promoting of next class, I felt the beauty of college life,
But the time has to go on and so on! And never wait to enjoy college life,
Now before ending the session, To shares activities of college life.
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 2:11 AM UTC
"Are you mad at me?"
"I wouldn't say 'mad.'"
I'd say
captious
petulant
furious
acrimonious
irritable
querulous
sour
acerbic
peevish
ornery
livid
vicious.
No, of course I'm not mad at you.
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 7:40 PM UTC
It’s not unknown, I’m not perfect.
And I doubt I am the only suspect.
Yes, when it comes down to, I’m a little fat.
Take this stand with others; we can’t have any of that.
Down to the nitty gritty,
I’m not all that pretty.
And I guess when you start to think,
My words all come out in an eyes blink.
Apparently, I am much too straightforward.
It’s better than sullen, sour peevish and forward.
I’m told I'm much to cynical,
It’s not my pedestal, nor my pinnacle.
I’m definitely not that girl,
Who in her hair has that perfect curl?
But in all my imperfection, there is purity.
Just don’t make me call the security.
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 5:22 PM UTC
by Damon G
. glum, morose, surly, sulky, crabbed, saturnine, gloomy mean showing a forbidding or disagreeable mood. sullen implies a silent ill humor and a refusal to be sociable
I'M BECOMING UNWOUND
. glum suggests a silent dispiritedness . morose adds to glum an element of bitterness or misanthropy
I NEED SOMETHING TO HAPPEN
. surly implies gruffness and sullenness of speech or manner
A VIOLENT THING, EVEN
. sulky suggests childish resentment expressed in peevish sullenness . crabbed applies to a forbidding morose harshness of manner
THE CRUSH OF A BREAKDOWN
. saturnine describes a heavy forbidding aspect or suggests a bitter disposition
A REASON TO WANT TO
. gloomy implies a depression in mood making for seeming sullenness or glumness .
GET UP AGAIN
Jun 13, 2010
Jun 13, 2010 at 9:51 PM UTC
1449
I thought the Train would never come—
How slow the whistle sang—
I don’t believe a peevish Bird
So whimpered for the Spring—
I taught my Heart a hundred times
Precisely what to say—
Provoking Lover, when you came
Its Treatise flew away
To hide my strategy too late
To wiser be too soon—
For miseries so halcyon
The happiness atone—
1.6k
I USED TO THINK THAT DOGS THOUGHT IN ENGLISH,
BUT, OF COURSE, IT COULD BE GERMAN OR SPANISH,
IF YOU TELL THEM TO SIT, THEY MAY NOT RESPOND,
JUST RUN AWAY TO THE BACK OF BEYOND;
I'M LOOKING UP 'SIT,' IN RUSSIAN, 'GET OFF
THAT ****** CHAIR,' IN CROATIAN AND 'COME
HERE, THERE'S A GOOD BOY' AND 'WELL DONE,'
PERHAPS WE JUST NEED AN 'ESPERANTO' SO
THAT THEY WILL ALL DO AS THEY'RE TOLD,
OTHERWISE WE WON'T LET THEM COME IN FROM THE COLD,
'STAY,' IN SWEDISH COULD MAKE THEM PEEVISH,
'FRIEND,' IN SWAHILI COULD MAKE THEM AN ENEMY,
WE DON'T WANT THEM TO BARK, MOPE AND PINE,
DON'T FORGET THE MAGIC COMMAND - 'NEIN, NEIN, NEIN!'
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 12:58 AM UTC
She's tall and gaunt, and in her hard, sad face
With flashes of the old fun's animation
There lowers the fixed and peevish resignation
Bred of a past where troubles came apace.
She tells me that her husband, ere he died,
Saw seven of their children pass away,
And never knew the little lass at play
Out on the green, in whom he's deified.
Her kin dispersed, her friends forgot and gone,
All simple faith her honest Irish mind,
Scolding her spoiled young saint, she labours on:
Telling her dreams, taking her patients' part,
Trailing her coat sometimes: and you shall find
No rougher, quainter speech, nor kinder heart.
1.2k
I was the queen in quest of your dreaming teens
You were in race to trace my grace of beaming beauty
Your shower of love was to catch my fragrant flower
Life was like amusing laser show for a major glow
A fresh breeze of life I felt in your lifelong lease of love
Your fast love at first sight was forthright, I saw it so
Your love was on a broadband channel, I surmised,
On high frequency at matching wave length you promised
Love was in fairy air you craved, cared n’ carried thru’
I molded to your mauls, for I rejoiced your choice
I was mild and yielding as you stepped up wielding
Rendered and surrendered to your shabby game of love
You left the fruit of your lust in my lap in a decade’s gap.
Embroiled in undue deal, you now embraced
Unhealthy wealth than wealthy health
Lavish lust, peevish love and selfish life
Lo, love is to collate not to collide n’ collapse
I feel sad when our lad says my dad is bad
My love was one popped up from heart
Your love pepped up from crazy corner
The kid is keen to pick up your kiss
Welcome to hold me to your fold, don’t miss
All I need is your towering love
Not your quivering ivory tower.
All I wish you is not to rewind
Your tampered tape on kin akin
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 7:31 AM UTC
545
’Tis One by One—the Father counts—
And then a Tract between
Set Cypherless—to teach the Eye
The Value of its Ten—
Until the peevish Student
Acquire the Quick of Skill—
Then Numerals are dowered back—
Adorning all the Rule—
’Tis mostly Slate and Pencil—
And Darkness on the School
Distracts the Children’s fingers—
Still the Eternal Rule
Regards least Cypherer alike
With Leader of the Band—
And every separate Urchin’s Sum—
Is fashioned for his hand—
1k
A percentage of me has to hell been consigned
by the ever raging zionists' war machine.
To each livid soldier, a mandate is assigned
to uproot terror where multitudes are confined.
Torrents of explosives have swept my landscapes clean.
Churches, mosques, schools have all to mighty vengeance bowed.
Stricken mothers wail uncontrollably aloud.
Itinerancy pervades my horror stricken crowd,
whilst my kids toy with explosives, carnage and ruin.
Survivors will take shelter from snipers shooting
death ***** and lead from peevish and portable guns.
Horror unprecedented the people outruns.
I have metamorphosed to nothing but a morgue.
Lice and bugs have infested hoodies lined with borg.
Disease and maimed limbs have no remedies in sight.
Let not the world be unmoved by my sorry plight.
Why must I this price pay for a thousand or more killed?
My morgues are beyond their capacity filled.
The deaths of innocents are nothing but unjust.
My once-populated streets have been turned into dust.
Jan 9, 2024
Jan 9, 2024 at 2:51 PM UTC
My mouth opens but nothing comes out....
I am not sure why but I am unable to speak now.
Instead the willful arrogant one shows you her face ~ the one you call 'petulant'. You do not understand how much pain there is inside of this body, how could you, when the parts who hold the pain are no longer allowed to speak to you. Instead the ill-tempered one talks; you find her to be 'annoying' and peevish, in fact, it seems as though she feels the need to be on defense all the time. She is contemptuous in her behavior shielding any feelings of vulnerability from you with her supercilious speech.
She stands behind the wall that has been rebuilt between you and her and the wall is made of brick, the mortar solid and unforgiving. If you could see behind the icy blue of her eyes as they tell you confidently that she is doing well…if you could see behind her, you would be able to see that all is not okay. You would be able to see that she is not a petulant child, but rather a frightened girl, teenager, woman. You would be able to see that the arrogance and cockiness of her speech and stance, her willfulness…is a defense tactic. If you could see behind the brick wall you would see that she feels like she has tumbled backwards and she has lost her voice.
BEHIND THE WALL:
*She is not defensive...she is scared.
She is not petulant...she is guarded.
She is not confident...she is uncertain.*
If you could see behind the wall, you could see that she waited years for someone to come into her life and tell her that it was okay to tear down that wall. Behind the wall she chokes back tears of sadness and shakes in fear. Behind the wall she hides in dark corner...afraid she has now become one more casualty in this ****** war as she struggles to once again find her voice.
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 2:59 PM UTC
my muscles are singing for one more gallop,
my thighs, bruised and swollen, need a
bang.
my back is popping and creaking, but it’s yearning
to arch.
*i need a ****
not gentle, not serene. do not take your time with me,
(let’s get straight tothepoint,
your point, please)
i am sore (always)
but it is the pain i thrive on, the pain that makes me
grin with a cheshire smile each morning.
*i need a ****
animalistic, disorderly,
as the peevish thoughts in my brain.
i do not want flowers, diamonds, chocolates,
i want the blue of your fingers, the red of your teeth,
the overwhelming thunders and oceans
that rest between your thighs.
*i need a ****
tonight dear, right now, dear,
let me hear you
growl.
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 1:47 PM UTC
A boy asked God
"Could you please
give me patience? "
God to the boy
"I will send to you challenge! "
The boy to God
"I think we are not
On the same page
When I asked
You for patience
It is not for a change! "
God to the boy
"Patience presupposes hassle,
In the remoulding
Process to render you
Tolerant and gentle!
Boy to God
"Yes hassle
To change
The peevish
To gentle
I shouldn't forget
Your omniscience mantle!
You break
Anew to make! "
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC
Sudden kisses, in ***** stealth - warming as morning sun - unmasked favors to allure and added heat to deep affection.
Those eyes, fair heaven should be spangled with such stars - and those radiantly concupiscible lips perform witchcraft.
Slow hours of marriage-like joys soon followed - lover’s tongues tanged from the sweetest flowers not of the field.
In that dear company, I surrendered, like eve's apple, that treasure - peevish, proud and idle whose natural enemy is man.
What I find now haunting my sleep are the nights, the years of lost and unused benefits - knowing that fault was mine.
Aug 14, 2021
Aug 14, 2021 at 9:51 PM UTC
My heart is severely bleeding
My brain is sincerely pleading
Both are by my soul affected
And by cruel World are infected
All are selfish to the core
Justice all blatantly ignore
They use ways that are unfair
All insults they want me to bear
I can surely call them highly peevish
As they make me terribly feverish
I am forced to suffer huge loss
Deepest regrets they easily cause
Their hearts contain poison
They hate me under the Sun
In case I throw a sad protest
My action they seriously detest
My sorrow has alarmingly grown
Away from peace I am thrown
My heart feels the worst pressure
My anxiety cancels all the pleasure
Ultimately to God alone I appeal
I hope via Him I will win the deal
God alone is my last resort
I believe in His giving comfort
Though at times I use profanity
I know God makes my life pretty
Only when God is by me trusted
In life I get truly interested
Human beings will easily cheat
But, God alone will kindly treat
That powerful force will act
After gathering every fact
To Him when I wholly surrender
He will take care of my blunder
He will surely offer great solace
Safest path my life will embrace
All evils God will finally massacre
He will no doubt give soothing succor
Only God will never double-cross
He will definitely arrest every loss
So I now pray and hopefully wait
A solution via God I will soon sight.
M V VENKATARAMAN
Sep 5, 2010
Sep 5, 2010 at 12:23 AM UTC
Love marriage is not a delicious thing
Sometimes It is a little bit more salty
And more pungent than is required
To be easily galloped
The couple are not contented with the stuff
For both had told their own earlier
Then it was beautiful snow fallng in the moonlight
And the romantic raindrops kissing the blossoms
Now it is hackneyd or cliche
Or a haggard leaf crawling not to be liked
Here ushers in pain that is suppressed
And peevish get their nature and
Both lose their cool so soon
And It happens daily till they bid adieu to each
Or one of them kicks ths bucket
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 6:35 AM UTC
Flickering like a tentative alpenglow corraded from profaned time
A whisper jostles through a crowded rumpus prescient of teleology and design
Jolting with pangs of panic a screech emanates from the brontides of tomorrow
A chagrin outpaces the gingerly apprehension of a peevish sorrow
Among the ruffled plumes quaffed from pedigree and put to disuse
A banausic electricity galvanizes the ****** of the amalgamated acuity pinched from the sordid, the obtuse
Refracted like off a darkened moon that clenches the darkness in an abstruse tomb
Combs through sentience of Saturn presiding over ineluctable doom
A silence louder than a plangent ****** of phantasmagoria debased
A looming victor erodes with the putrefaction of sworn and utter distaste
How to obtrude on the evening with triaged fulmination
Is an affront to the rudders of a piecemeal civilization in tatters with exacting doddering calculation
Graveyards bustle with the eidolons of scurrilous spite
Congregating around a blackened epitaph on an alabaster palace gilded in the swanky pinnacle of light
Scuttling the outmoded flanks of an abortive war
Against a henchman of state too ostentatious to hardly ever ignore
We clamber with insistence hoping on fortuitous deliverance
Yet we are deranged of the clasped distance between the crevasse of the clerisy and the satisdiction of futures passed with meticulous diligence
Absconding with furtive furrows on a wizened guild an entrusted world we helped build
We witness the silence creep over us like a trepidation contained as lethal killers of the cartel willed
That which frightens a self-fulfillment is a fatalism gone awry
Someday soon omens excavated from immolated tombs will beseech a more universal backlash, an alienated sorrow that will one day cry
But until that fetched disaster occurs
Let us meditate only on the process of emanation among wayward words
That dance with a destiny that the hegemony of momentary circumstance much prefers
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 2:19 AM UTC
Just why in the world can't I write a poem?
Couple of words can pull this crap
But none of a piece seems to come out
Why? Just why can't I think of a term
This gets me frustrated as this rant goes on
And to think of it, this **** is already bad as it sounds
Truly peevish as the name suggests
Oh why did I let this **** happen?
It seems to me that the words already left
Somewhen I don't even remember
While I'm too busy making much of this trash.
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 9:32 AM UTC
A frigid night outside the friary
Where only hears the sound of hearse
Insensible heart but with sadness
Liniment by loneliness and sadness.
Forever drown in this solitude fane
Clad with great shame
Mincing to wait yet groaning under pain
Her laconic eyes seems in chain.
A nightmare echoed as knell
An old cascade now pouring down tears
Can't find a way to be elated.
Destituted and chilled by many faces.
How lonesome you are!
You're dismal and with devious pride
You elude but always caught
A mariontte that always drift.
They repress you to fly
And a peevish child in you makes you cry.
Someone's flayed you but you denied
You only have one hop but they owed you a thousand strides.
They inflict you to 'kiss the rod'
Now you're a 'damsel in distress'
Your flimsy wings turns into embers
Reason why they taunt you and makes your dreams shutter.
But I know this knell will turn into a serenade
Though I have an embered wings, someday
I will reincarnate
I will bring back my glittering cascade.
I will leave this frigid friary and devastate their masquerade.
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 11:33 PM UTC
Meeting a stranger
In a bus station
A housewife became
Tempered to cheat
On her husband
"It is alright
As it will be
One night stand!"
She found
The adulterous fling
A nice thing
Which must be kept going.
She began to say
"What could my husband
possibly bring?"
The couples marriage
Went dangerously awry
When the husband continued
To beset her by
"Why, Why,...Why?"
"Didn't we vow
To stay united
Till we die?
I am afraid
In a fit of rage
I could make a revenge!"
The man who wandered into
Her life off guard to wholesale
Posses her
Continued to demand.
"After lunch we could
Attend a music band,
Before dinner
We could go to a cinema
In the village yonder,
For breakfast
We must drive
To the shore fast!
In vain she began to lament
"Do not hesitate
My peevish husband
Could 2 in 1 pierce us
With a bullet!"
So how can we
Go to another village
Or open
A new page?
Keep we better
Things under cover."
By the time
She got home with a bruise
And a fictitious answer
For ready use
To be accompanied by
The usual
"Give me a break?"
In their bedroom
She found her husband
With a noose
Around his neck
Written on his face
'Give me a break!"
Ironically
The rope was
The self same tie
Up on their marriage
She gifted him
"Forget you
I shall not
Till I die!"
Jun 17, 2019
Jun 17, 2019 at 11:01 AM UTC
Thou art, of truth, a foe
Woe betide thee, oh snow
Once thy fall shall thaw,
Thou shall stand in awe.
When open wide, thy mouth agape,
In the sun, dyed, thy drape.
When, dripping down, comes the rain,
Thou, acting, a frown, shan’t feign.
At the thievish color of night,
Thy peevish color of white
Shan’t, shouting, rant and rave.
Thou, mounting, might give a wave,
For only a night there could be
Thyself to save ahead of thee
’Fore clouds quickly drift and sway
And under the blazing sun, left, thou lay
For alas I’m old and my hair gone grey
And there ahead of me, approaching, is the day.
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 8:23 AM UTC