"repetitiveness" poems
Boredom #2
I’ve never seen so many synonyms for one small noun,
Blocking maturation and enjoy-dom:
Boredom.
“Weariness, ennui: frustration;
Restlessness, dissatisfaction, unconcern: frustration;
Lethargy, lassitude, flatness and frustration;
Dreariness, repetitiveness, apathy: frustration;
Tedium, monotony, dullness. yes, frustration.”
Can it be overcome, this boredom?
No more war - the boredom won,
Exchanged for something more like fun?
It can.
A friend who, when we speak, says,
“It’s a part of nature…has no answer...”
Reasoning fallacious,
She is wrong as wrong can be
And her reasoning a fallacy.
Awake at night: hormones, full moons;
The glut of light: electric gadgets and devices,
Radios that play a song too strong, too long..
A trick I’ve learned that’s brought results;
A knack, a shortcut worth consulting
Is to train the brain to focus on/in/with the brain;
Travel round in, sense and feel…
Make it real – as if you really feel
The part you aim at, frame then tame.
In seconds you’ve an object that’s becomes a subject.
Boredom fled, you freed,
You and your mood well pleased, released
And taken places least expected,
Un-objected to by you,
The burden boredom’s through.
And doomed!
Boredom 11.24.2016/ #2 revised 2..16.2017
Revelations Big & Small; Definitely Didactic;
Arlene Corwin
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 6:30 AM UTC
I'm afraid to slow down, as if loss of repetitiveness allows for sediments.
Mind races, paces.
Over works its self in the wake of new faces.
I'm begging for acceptance to follow this direction.
Harvesting all this love, gaining gems of affection
Scarred and torn my flesh is my own,
I'm grown.
Up, I climb further into danger's soothing catacombs.
The shells of un-fulfillment shed with precision.
I'm dreaming of blackouts with a blurred vision.
Steeping tea of poor decisions.
Wasted, wasting, weightless.
Repetitive, sediments, settling into broken dreams.
Filling the corners of my mind, spilling hope,
Tethering seams.
Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 10:19 AM UTC
The idealisation of the far-fetched reality ,
Doesn't make it right.
The happiness coming from someone else's pain,
Doesn't make you thrive.
The insensebility of taking wrong decisions,
Doesn't make you look cute, just cruel and naive.
The passing on of the confusion,
Shows your incapability of commitment or in general Life.
The repetitiveness of a command,
Doesn't make people oblige.
It's a simple game...
A game of what's wrong and what's right!.
Of seeing things you ignored ,
Being a self-centred blind.
It's an opportunity to open yourself up,
For the things you've done to others,
and putting yourself in their shoes...
And.....REALISE.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 5:24 AM UTC
Sudden
Abrupt
Unexpected
These words describe a sensation
A sensation that fashions the soul
Molding, sculpting
The person I am today
Hyperventilation
Nausea
A sudden rush
Adrenalin
Slamming doors
Crowded, congested
Populously packed into a box
Air tight
Repetitiveness is a quality this one sensation possesses
Repeating
Over and over
Repeating
Fearing it
Fearing it's repetitiveness
Repeating all over again
Preventing me
From opportunities
Simple, basic, opportunities
While I'm still stuck
In the box
That populously packed box
All alone
Shouting
Till my larynx
Rip and tears
But I'm left
Abandoned
With no response
This sensation
The panic
Has no end
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 3:26 PM UTC
I move kind of slow
And I'm not sure why
I do not know
Perhaps it is
The repetitiveness
Of this absurd show
Nowhere to rush
Nowhere to go
There was
A woman
At the gym
So strong and ****
Who deadlifts
Almost as twice as me
Kind and compassionate
What could be wrong
About breastfeeding
From her
All day long
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 2:47 PM UTC
Through peach coloured faded blinds, you watch him type on ashen keyboards
Low music playing, he used to cut her hair, she was breathing
Words from a soul, or words from dictionaries faded as the blinds and walls and clothes on his back
A team of typists, all in a line (factory work and the repetitiveness of city living)
You notice the desk, cheap and flat-pack, worn markings exposition of veneer and wood
Did you spot the reference, or did it pass your eyes,
- are you a fan?
His derivative verse of Bukowski and the like is painful to eyes and corroding of the soul
Have you seen the bees flee?
Watch as the lights turn dead, and the oven burns red
I'm not sure if one could call it homely; his home
The way darkness arrives early each night above that house alone
and the way rabid foxes walk in large circles to avoid the shadow cast
You hear him cry at night
(and I feel ashamed at noticing you)
He sets himself alight, to feel something new
You watch from your couch and flip the channel
Are the old haunts getting older still,
by the night's final adieu, a wild dog scampers home
To lay beneath the old car with grass in the engine
and we both know the house is burning
The flashing lights in the street and the coked up vagrants dance rhythmically
Smoke contortions over the grassy morning dew
A girl with a vacant stare, from a bench afar, watches and flicks broken nails
Everything you are is nothing you want, still watching from the window
Pacing. Pacing.
(I am on the rooftop, and I saw it all.)
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
as i walk through the empty hallways
i fix my gaze on the worn floor
each footstep is heavy
and drags across the hardwood
the movements have become involuntary
a product of repetitiveness
not passion
i cannot raise my eyes to the photographs hanging on the wall
these black and white remnants
of what seems to be a life of mine
lived so long ago
that I cannot recall the details
but I remember
I remember the girl
who grew up learning hatred
so ashamed of what had been given to her
and so afraid of a life untouched
I wanted so desperately to give her the world
but she destroyed my heart
and left it black and blue
and I remember
I remember the boy
with wild black hair and a voice like honey
who told me everything I thought I wanted to hear
who pulled me in so quickly
but I drew away with little pause
and so I left him
because I am just a girl and cannot give you the world
I remember the boy
who I watched settle for anything
and everything that crossed his path
wondering if I too
was just a commodity
if his plans of seeing me in a white dress
were fixated on the dress
or the soul wearing it
so he destroyed my heart
and left it black and blue
and I remember the girl
who loved everything too much
who looked at me with wonderstruck eyes
and convinced me that I could be so much more
but the skies are never clear for long
and as the dark clouds rolled in
I learned that she hated the rain
as I watched her run inside
to someone new
as I stood amidst the raging storm
while she destroyed my heart
and left it black and blue
and I remember
I still remember the boy
who looked me expecting nothing
except me
the smoke envelopes me
whistling my name
and I move in closer
closer to this warmth
this all consuming
all encompassing fire
but I am scared
I am so scared of the thought of burning out
or becoming engulfed
only to discover
that these flames are not what I want
so I run
I run far away
to safe
monotonous
empty "love"
and as I watched him fall in love under the autumn leaves
tending my scorched soul
dragging my feet along these empty hallways
realizing I destroyed my own heart
and I left it black and blue
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 10:01 PM UTC
I. nope.
II.
long-windedness verbosity
diffuseness prolixity
wordiness rambling
circuity discursiveness
redundancy tautology
tediousness verbiage
verboseness length
longevity permanence
garrulity windiness
volubility circumlocution
expansiveness babbling
periphrasis gushing
blathering protractedness
waffling lengthiness
iteration repetition
prating prattling
jabbering digressiveness
dreariness tedium
deadliness wandering
repetitiousness repetitiveness
pleonasm convolution
logorrhoea boringness
maundering superfluity
duplication tiresomeness
monotony reiteration
gabbiness informality
mouthiness diffusion
logorrhea wordage
blah-blah dryness
dullness boredom
sameness loquaciousness
talkativeness loquacity
freeness orotundity
roundaboutness breadth
gobbledegook gassiness
wittering multiloquence
perissology big mouth
gift of the gab garrulousness
staleness tallness
Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 9:38 AM UTC
You are a photographer, your flash is extremely bright, people use to tell you to turn it off, but you wouldn't listen so they stopped speaking. You don't come around that much anymore so people either gather around in excitement or hide under there covers in fear. Your pictures are close to being rare.
You are the co-existent crowd, your clapping, roaring and cheering is often misleading. You are invisible but if you weren't I wonder what you would look like.
You are the muted out firecrackers your repetitiveness is calming over time. You make some people have the urge to run outside and dance.
Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 12:39 PM UTC
**** it happened again,
where I pull my feelings out,
and put them back again,
my feelings shouldn't matter,
but apparently they can still get shattered.
comfortable, uncomfortable, and comfortable again,
it keeps happening the same, is it a shame or just lame?
I got it stuck in my head that all I wanna do is go to bed
holey socks shocks my classy mother,
who asks if I still wanna be a mother
Repetitiveness runs through me,
Obsessiveness comes ruining this so-called "life"
that I've come to live,
Cheers, I made it through another year,
is it really that important?
It's like shittin' on all my dreams
whenever I open my eyes,
let the pendulum swing
till it tells everything
feels like a little kid today,
but I keep hatin' away
police make me nervous,
maybe a little curious,
it's nice outside,
********
I like when it's like ice outside
hide your scars like you hide your feelings,
no one ever sees them,
everybody thinks you're fine,
and no one knows you're lyin'
hatin' on your body,
hatin' on your insides,
don't try callin' me,
you won't make it better,
shoot me in the foot,
it would hurt lesser
than the feelings I keep feeling,
**** I don't even listen.
I say things won't help because I've already tried them,
don't say it, I'm stubborn
I'm not gonna let you help
because I'm just a ******
**** this *****
roll a blunt, and just give up.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
Shivers pass through
Your every breath
Uncontrollable fear
Nothing is clear
Shivers pass through
Your every thought
You could run away
You could stop and stare
Slow-mo sickness
Know all the grains of sand
Repetitiveness
Destiny in your hand
Shivers pass through
Your every word
Soul-stained, taint
Incoherent and quaint
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
These days are different,
don’t ask me how;
there’s only one way for you to understand what I mean.
Now things are changing, no longer simple but more complex yet all the same repetitiveness of the day before.
What changed might you ask, and personally I will tell you, EVERYTHING. It all happens in small amounts, the change, from new seasons to new haircuts, the little thing you don’t notice much. However there are a few times that the change is really noticeable, like when you move from place to place or when you wake up on a Saturday morning before everyone else and you simply lay there, the warm beams of sunlight shining on your face and you just think about how things are
and how they used to be.
That is when it hits you on the head like a ton of bricks, this change is dramatic, its huge and complex.
"But that’s ok" you say to yourself, change is good.
Or maybe just maybe it might not be.
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 10:40 AM UTC
As always, I'm laying on my bed
That is not yet used the way it is supposed to be
Instead of sleep, it supports my unsettling weight during nightly activities
And even though it appears unliving, I feel the need to apologize for my actions
Despite my repetitiveness
And insanity, that others would perceive uncontrollable
My motions, although unchanged and just as chaotic
Are now paired with a head more secure in its place
And I went out, a shock, isn't it?
The company of voices didn't win my attention completely tonight
Opposing their guidelines, I found others to interact with
And in returning, i was met with long faced whispers
Why the invisible frown, I would ask, if question would receive answer
But I know fully well that conversation in their dictionary is commenting or narration
And I know well the gist of their answer
From insults jealously thrown, in attempt to dim my replenished glow
They can't give me that happiness
Even worse, they can't possess it for themselves
So they try to distract me by provoking emotions, sadder in impact
Hoping that I disembark this roller coaster of pure delight
But tonight, as I said before
My head is secure, holding mind safe within
No tricks or reverse psychology can prevail
I'm enjoying the ride, and I'm not getting off.
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
There is no such thing as repetition
Set in stone necessity of self choice
What's here today in space around you
Wasn't same yesterday,
Leaves fall and our creations
If good ones
Are here to stay-
To fall back to enjoy whenever we want
Which in no way is repetitiveness
For instance
To fall asleep with these pajamas to wake back up to
Does not make my sleeping a waste because I wore those same pajamas
Just last eve,
repetitive repetition blissful bite
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 5:52 PM UTC
Washing sand from cuts on my
feet
Wiping grains from the corners of my
eyes
A hundred stones, bouncing together
musically
Tossed back and forth by rushing salt water,
seaweed
I sit here in silence, waiting for the last
puff
Off a cheap cigarette, pulled from cellophane,
cheap wrapping
Adorning your arms with a ball point
pen
A human canvas, framed by smiling green
eyes
And the ocean crashes with tired
repetitiveness
While we are still unaware that we even
exist
Or that we will someday, maybe even today,
cease
Jun 19, 2011
Jun 19, 2011 at 4:13 PM UTC
i’m staring at this blank page again
wondering what to write
when the words lock themselves away
and i am left with nothing but myself
how lonely that is
how e m p t y i am
my fingers twitch as if to reach
for something
my feet itch to run towards a better life
but every morning
with the rise of the sun
i don the same garb
walk the same walk
until i am drowning in the repetitiveness of it all
until i wonder why i’m even here
“there must be more to this life“
i think
and watch everyone move on without me
at a speed so great
i am coughing up dust
coughing up the lies i told myself
so that i could remain a shriveled thing
instead of swimming towards the light
but the light hurts
it blinds my eyes
and pulls sobs from little nooks and crannies
i thought were vacant
Esther L. Krenzin
Mar 6, 2021
Mar 6, 2021 at 10:08 PM UTC
You can stop knocking
On the door
Announcing what you made
For the **** dinner
I know there is food in the kitchen
I eat when I please
You are a nobody
To me you do not exist
I delete the holidays
I delete these obnoxious people
From my memory
Go watch the news
One who "exists"
And makes dinner.
Go plan tomorrow's dinner
You'll have all day to do it
While you watch the news
F****** idiot
It's the repetitiveness of it
Go away
You are not welcome
As far as I am concerned
This room is a different home
Go away, go away
Away, away, away,
Stay away from me
Village idiot.
And I do not like
To be negative about people
But some get on my nerves
They do not change
They do not live
They simply exist
Truly sad.
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
Theoretically speaking I'm constantly seeking for truth.
Waving white flags and truces even when whites are hanging nooses, buildings of blockades an aid for destruction mentally constructed to keep our eyes blind a constant excuse for freedom.
When sometimes I think freedoms a disease the way so many armed forces are forced over seas to siege a way with an extra arm to squeeze at enemies abroad for things unknown just to drop a nuke.
So let these visions be televised and in the future wise men become the eyes sequences in history repeating repetitiveness will seize but until then we live out America's Dream
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 11:24 PM UTC
You know when you stand at the edge of the water, feet in sand. Letting the water wash over your feet making you sink in the sand a little more each time. When we are little we make a game out of it. Running away from the waves as they try to catch you. But now we welcome it. Wanting the relaxing repetitiveness of it. Then walking further in. One step at a time. Apprehensive at first as it is so cold. Waves crashing higher than you want because you're scared. You keep going because eventually it becomes colder outside of the water than in. Finally you can't touch the bottom anymore and you have to decide if you want to keep swimming and explore the wonders of the ocean or go back to the shore where you know it is safe. You may not know what's beyond the horizon or under the surface of the water but you know there is more there than what meets the eye. Swimming further in you realize you are surrounded by water. Peacefully floating and letting the water guide you occasionally wash over you. Knowing wonders lay beneath you. Finding things you thought could never exist. Wanting to go deeper. Learning new beauties but you can only hold your breath for so long. Seeing somethings you can't unsee. Dark scary things that make you question if you should stay or go in another ocean again. It can be terrifying to find something that makes you question your love of the ocean and everything wonderful in it. I guess that is why we stay near shore. Never getting lost at sea.
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 2:59 AM UTC
Too loud too loud too loud
Click click click click
Tap tap tap tap tap
All I hear are those awful sounds
Muffled talking
Loud screaming
Typing
Chewing
Smacking
Eating
Gross please make it stop
This is real
Not just for me
But everyone else
I can’t stand sounds
The sounds of anything
Except music
Music is the only thing that saves me
Tones and repetitiveness
I can’t do that
But drums
And cellos
Guitars, pianos, saxophones
Those are all okay
I’m sorry
None of this is my fault
I wish it didn’t bother me
Trust me
I do.
But it does.
I hate it
Probably more than you do.
You should be thankful
Because you don’t.
It makes my skin crawl
I get hot
Dizzy
I shake
Every sound gets amplified
Please forgive me
I’m sorry
**** misophonia!
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 12:19 PM UTC
What I wanted to, to what I became its the
question that has haunted my years in
proximity of my thoughts and kind.
My passion of what was above my
mind, where there was specks of
nothing filled with glimmers of light.
I lingered on this thought of where I
wanted my mind to stretch to the outer
reaches of what was beyond my perception.
My life was a hurricane and I was a petal
swaying in tormented jest. I couldn't find
a star up above to end this constant anguish.
I only saw tears fall from above washing away
the thoughts of youthful jest. I could not see
what in youth was gradually washed out.
Now I an I shadow of my adolescent youth,
Now contained within a hollow shell.
I am drone like others that do the same steps.
I miss you innocent thoughts of youthful wanting
to be above my thoughts. I wanted to be in the
stars or at least be an astronomer of sights above.
But I languish in this time of repetitiveness.
adulthood has stolen my innocence of before,
I want to once again idyllically stare at the stars.
Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 3:50 PM UTC
I verse on the tracks of desolation, collecting the fares
of misinterpreted views. Distorted rails nearly derail
my motion onwards, the baggage of my life is strewn
in plain view.
A journey is only a fluctuation of tendencies,
Never knowing the repetitiveness of coincidental
meetings. I'm a hobo in a suit, trailing features of soiled
seats that's have memories of words spilt on them.
I lose myself in momentary views that like paper
trails flickering show me different afflictions outside
a window of opportunity that lasts moments.
I'm in a can of sardines waiting for my release.
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 6:34 PM UTC
.
Lost
I ( Think! ) I
Do
I do marry you on the subway
From manhattan into Brooklyn (!)
)(
When I was a kid I thought
YA KNOW
I THINK
If YA DONT MARRY A BAG LADY
YOU ARE WASTING YOUR LIFE !
& I was so right !
)(
Gene diversity is very high in these
Sorts of unions
And the kids are so superior
Because of if
)(
)(
Lost
In the madness of conformity
We squander our precious consciousness
To repetitiveness
And sleepiness
//
Ah
Me and my babe !
Holding hands
With each other
And you too
My friend
.
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 1:20 AM UTC
Everyday is the same
Same people
Same fake laughs
Same fake smiles
Same conversations
Every single day
The stories never change
The thoughts never go away
I hate it here!
This place makes me want to die
I'm so frustrated and irritated that I'm going to break down and cry
Same arguments
Same clothes
Same faces
Same words
All the repetitiveness is getting to me
Is today yesterday?
Is today today?
Is today tomorrow?
I don't know and if I did it doesn't matter
Because today is the same as it was yesterday
Today is the same as it will be tomorrow
I need something new
I need to be happy
I need a new conversation
I need exciting.....
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 1:38 PM UTC