"shakiness" poems
Anxiety
I can feel it coming
That shakiness in my hands that begins to spread throughout my body.
My heart beat begins to pick up speed. Getting louder & louder, until it's all I can hear.
Anxiety
Worry fills my every thought
And those thoughts consume me.
(a.d)
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
Is it wrong to crave the hands
That no longer desire
The warmth of mine?
Despite the shame, guilt and tears
I can recall the texture of that skin;
Unkempt and rigid.
Street lights in the summer;
My favourite place in the city,
Strengthened by the grip between 10 fingers.
Turns out those hands had bigger plans;
A craving to explore and discover,
With new eyes and a deeper soul.
Left mine to wallow in self-pity,
Getting flustered upon failing
To pluck aged guitar strings adequately.
Sometimes I like to think
That the shakiness my hands feel
Is just my fingers shivering, naked and cold, without yours.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC
death bursted into my room tonight
awakening a deep slumber
outstretching a cold boney hand
as if offering for me to go with him
I felt no fear or sadness
I have been waiting for death to greet me
I have admired him from afar
a lover who took no chance in courting me
Until he was ready to give me an embrace
That could be defined as loving and warm
but it was sinful and alluring
flickers of sparks in his eyes
ignited a fire in my soul
a passion that I had longed for
as my hand grabbed onto his
he pulled me close in the middle of the room
he began to dance to the tune
of our heartbeats synchronizing
a beautiful symphony rang love in our ears
craning his neck
he leaned in close
inhaling the shakiness of my breath
moonlight illuminated the poison dripping
from his puckering lips
as an offering to taste
what afterlife was
it held soft undertones of an earthy aftertaste
but an overpowering intoxicating sweetness left me hungry
for just one more dip
in his suicidal serenity
moving in one fluid motion
sweeping behind me
a boney hand placed on an unclothed forearm
slowly slid up my shoulder
as another arm was placed around both hips
he pressed himself tightly against me
icy breath grazed across my neck
making hairs stand up on my arms
as a moan escaped between closed lips
he whispered a seductive I love you
as he tucked hair behind my ear
the words I longed to hear
were met with a sharp knife
placed in open hands
and a crooked smile
spread across his face
it was at that moment
I came to the realization
to become his fully
my beautiful souls light
must burn out
to match his souls decayed state
no persuasion was needed
I longed for this moment
now the time was finally right
steady right hand raised
the elongated blade
"together forever..."
death breathlessly whispered
as a swift motion
punctured my abdomen
breath was taken out of my lungs
knees buckled
as death dropped me to the floor
tears of bliss flowed from my eyes
staining mascara streaks on flushed cheeks
I peer around the room to greet my lover
in another embrace with my final breaths
but im alone
left with a bloodied knife in hand
but this forbidden passion of a deaths dance
was only used to take ones soul
not give it the life it craved
laughing through the flood of tears
not even in death was I loved
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 8:21 PM UTC
On the screens...
In the model scenes...
In the magazines,
In the places we believe are unseen
We have all the *********** we could want and "need"
It's in our hands, at our finger tips, your flesh is filled with greed
Hastily eating all you can **** out of what your distracted eyes see
Satisfied? Never, Then continue to watch that **** view, then wash that history clean
You know you the ***** feeling you desire!
That shakiness that makes your heart grow mad and burn like insanities fire.
If responsibility did not exist, that would be your main priority, fall lewidly into the dark
To feed that starving flesh the images it need's to get that spark
Enjoying it?.... Tired of it yet? Too Soft? Too Hard?
Too Slow? Too Fast? Watch whatever actions you want, you're the one playing the cards
But listen to a different side of ***********
A "beauty" in those pornographies has laid a target on my type of beauty
I didn't ask for it... I didn't desire it... I didn't want it... I felt filthy...
Several men who thought they had the complete authority, physically abused...
Mentally harming with words, because of conviction, because of being accused
Refusing to give up their poison because it gives them the attention that makes them moan
Sometimes.. watching things aren't enough... time to give varginity a loan
....Almost have been ****** assaulted more then once... and forever my soul have been torn
Some girls and boys have experienced much worse... ***** killed... suffered.. WHY ALLOW ALL THIS ****
WHAT IS MORE IMPORTANT!? YOUR ****** EMOTIONS?
OR A HURTING NATION THAT IS BEING DESTROYED BY THIS ****** DEVOTION!!!!
....The more you feed it... with your mastrabational retuals
Or whatever... the more it'll want to consume... it won't stay netrual
....It has burned up families... marriages... friendships... and relationships
And even has devoured the heart of those who enjoy it... Who think it's a fun strip
...I am warning you... we are tempted left and right.. it's every where we see
We are not strong enough to resist the temptations... we are of the flesh; weak
Please don't waste your treasure filled bodies or lips...
We Have **** At Our Finger Tips...
*Only God can save the death of humanity... And help us end these ****** struggles...*
And Only He...
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC
there’s always been a certain feeling
quite difficult to name—
discomfort, most likely,
or a vague,
blurry,
unhurried sense of fear.
a worry
that perhaps you can tell
that the floor was swept
and the carpet vacuumed
only minutes before your arrival ,
anxiety
making suppositions
about your x-ray vision
and delicate opinions.
perhaps you can see
the layers of sweat and blood
behind every painted wall,
perhaps you can hear the sound
of arguments and sweet nothings
seeping up from the floorboards.
i’m sure you mean well,
that you’ve brought some sort of lasagna
and cheesecake for dessert,
yet i cannot shake the feeling
that you are invaders
from a foreign land,
here to take
and take
and take
and take
everything your eyes land on.
this shakiness is formidable,
this unraveling so easy to do,
but i am not one to succumb
to anxiety’s follies—
so i open the door anyway
dissect the chambers of my heart,
throw open the shutters,
offering every bit of my soul,
my voice echoing
off every beam and wall and ventricle,
the word soaring into your ears:
“welcome!”
Jun 18, 2020
Jun 18, 2020 at 1:19 PM UTC
"Do you want to be with me"
sorry I don't know what to say--
as I hold their hand, it ripples
it is the rush of anxiety
but feels like water combing through my hands
as I get shampoo out of my hair; in the shower.
There is a tremble in their breath
reminding me of catching droplets of water
in the canal of my ear
and having to tilt my head
for them to drop back into obscurity.
Their smell is fresh an aroma so soothing
feeling the clean scent of oranges and apples
a flourishing sample I briefly enjoy
when I pour a quarter sized dollop of shower gel.
Their eyes are watery
while they struggle to hide the parchness of their smile
is a somber reflection of hot water running out
and not having any heat left to turn towards
so the only option
is to get out of the shower.
Their words are mumbled, but I can understand "why"
trying to hide the shakiness in their hands and breath
I can't help but imagine the endorphin's frantically
trying to take control; to fight or flight--
A similar feeling I have when rushing
to get warm after a cold shower.
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 7:20 AM UTC
I remember the shakiness of hands
held within mine (i was shaky)
Or the falling hair strands
drifting into the space of time
or in my spare bedroom
where our love once bloomed
let’s start off where we resumed
to Japanese back translate
I remember the trembling of the hands
Is held in the mine (I was unstable)
Or falling hair
The drifting in time of space
Or in my spare bedroom
Place our love, it bloomed once
We’ll start where Resume
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
With lights in the sky
And cheer in my heart,
A drink in my hand,
A toast to the past
Treasure my memories;
Some triumphs were lost,
Now facing forward
But never forgot
I look to the future,
This one is for me
Year TWENTY-THIRTEEN
For wisdom and glee
Laid out before me
Adventures to come,
With laughter and smiles
I'll drink from the sun
Shining so brightly
Three weeks passed - still pleased,
Work arrange training,
One seat kept for me
First Aid Course progressed;
I wished to forget
The news I received
Before last years test...
(...As irony leaped
'Twas taught to save lives,
My mobile had beeped
With news my friend died
The shock had set in
I had to pull through,
Third day of the course
The test was now due
I pulled it together
My shakiness passed
I saved Annie's 'life'
I gave 'CPR'
I bandaged a 'cut'
I tended her knee,
I showed them I could
Help competently
I passed with "Well done"
But my heart broke in two,
Inside I was numb)
Old memories! Not new....
So, I focus today
With smile on my face,
DEFIBRILLATOR-
It's time to embrace!
I wait in the queue
Examined to be...
Bells chime, the phone rings,
My mum looks at me
(We work together)
She speaks to our Boss
"Can Karen go next?"
Her voice almost lost
I ask her "What's up?"
She said "It's bad news,
Was Grandad who called,
About your Nan Sue..."
She's hours to live
We must get there fast
But first you must go
And start Annie's heart!
© Karen L Hamilton, 2013
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
So how did I become the kind of person that I am
By changing every part of me I couldn't understand
I wonder what I'll find inside the skin that I suspend
Or maybe what I've lost is more apparent in the end
And where is all the evidence I carried on my back
The weight of it has turned it into something inexact
A haziness pervading what I once believed to be
The only inconsistency I wanted to perceive
Secure in all my shakiness but never unaware
That I was going down a road that wasn't even there
And maybe in my head I thought I'd save a place for you
Until I came to realize that's something I can't do
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
in the spinning circles of mass disorder
and the emotions that run rampant
in the inconsistency of the love I deserve
and the ones who want to love me but can't yet
in the influences that taint my blood and mind and will
the caffeine, the smoke, the alcohol that sits for days distilled
in the fluidity of these numbered days
and memories only made beautiful because they're gone
in the never ending collapsing of one thing into the next
with my bewildered mind never escaping from itself to get some rest
Within the whirlwind that is my life right now I am anchored, I am humbled, I overflow with gratitude that in all the inconsistency He waits for me the same. The sameness in His presence; the unchanging, unwavering, unalterable presence that is Him.
He will always love me; always forgive me.
He waits.
And in the shakiness of growing up, He gives me stability.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
Smoke filled his beautiful tan skinned cheeks with dimples so cute along that innocent face. His eyes were glazed with love or amusement or pain I couldn't quite be sure.
He kept his teeth white and his hair slicked back. He kept his clothes neat and his shoes polished and he smelled of the midnight sky; I was always a sucker for a well dressed man.
Love wasn't an option but no one said I couldn't be infatuated with his deep voice and dark words that taunted me so easily.
Lusting after you was easy as pie... And just as sweet. You licked your lips and whispered words of ecstasy in my ear. Grabbed my hand and off we went to explore the charming unknown.
He drank whiskey and cheap beer but that didn't stop him from being ever so dashing. I wasn't sure where this was headed but it wasn't smart.
He choked down the shakiness in his voice as he said his goodbyes. He had to get out, move on like those bad boys in the movies often do.
But I realized this wasn't a movie and he would soon be gone. I guess love was an option for me.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 10:09 PM UTC
being in a dark place gives you
plenty of time to think
so as I sit in this closet I wonder what
would happen if I opened the door.
would my mother still be able to call me
her daughter knowing that she likes girls and guys?
would my father go to an AA meeting one day
and never come home knowing his daughter
could one day get married to a woman?
would my brother not understand or would he
understand but not accept it?
would my grandparents still hug me knowing that
one day I could wake up in a woman's arms?
would my aunt and uncle drag me to the nearest
church and ask God to forgive me and then go home
and pray for me before eating dinner?
would they ever let me near my little cousins again
thinking that they could turn out like me?
being in a dark place gives you
plenty of time to write.
so I write about what I think life is
like outside this door, I write about
the slivers of light that come through
the cracks in the door and how wonderful it
must be to see it in all its glory.
I write about the shakiness I get in my hands
whenever a distant relative asks if I have a
boyfriend yet I write about all this and tuck
it away like a child trying to hide a
broken item from their parents because
they don't want to get in trouble.
being in a dark place gives
you plenty of time to hope
although it is hard to come by,
it's all you really have.
so as I sit in this closet getting ready
to endure another sleepless night
I hope that one day my hands will stop
shaking long enough for me to
finally open the door and be able to live
in the light I have only seen in small pieces
and I hope that when this
day comes, if it ever comes
I won't be alone like I am right now.
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 12:43 PM UTC
I'm tired of pretending to be okay
when I am not.
I'm tired of hiding how broken and scared
I feel.
I'm tired of the shakiness
in my hands.
I'm tired of feeling like I am
drowning.
I'm tired of keeping it all
in.
(a.d)
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
I can feel myself slipping
From this world
And slowly sinking
Into the depths of darkness –
Watching those familiar faces
Fade from my grasp
Instead becoming consumed
By confusion,
Fear
And muteness.
The iron bars of my cage.
Plunging into my thoughts,
A never ending sea of blackness.
Slowly suffocating
As the barriers fortify
Around my mind.
A cry, a scream for help
As I pound at the strengthening barriers:
Someone help me!
Let me out of here!
Before taciturnity robs me
Of my speech.
Routines and repetitions,
And my own world engulfs me.
Muteness and trembling.
Please, Taci, speak!
Your voice, the panic, the worry
As you grasp my shoulders
And shake me
With an unknown fear
As if to break me from this state.
Why can’t you speak?
My own eyes wide
As I stare at you,
Dumbfounded and fearful.
Sinking deeper into the depths
Of my mind:
Slipping further and further
Into routines and obsessions.
Voices are faded, from another world,
Alien and vague
Spoken in another language.
Incomprehensible and of no meaning,
No use to me!
You watch me on the other side
Of the invisible barrier;
Your hand blocked from my reach.
No matter how hard,
How much you want to help
And try,
Nothing can be done
To stop me from
Slipping through your fingers.
I gaze from afar
Through the tiny window of my mind.
Watching you all laugh, smile and cry.
What do your emotions mean?
What are they for?
What do your face expressions mean?
I am not built for this world:
Too fragile and brittle.
One hit and I'll smash
Into a million billion shards.
My obsessions
Perceived as ecccentric.
My way of speaking -
The shakiness in my voice
And the muteness
Deemed abnormal.
I am an alien becoming more alien.
My language and my mind
Both unsolved paradoxes.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 4:21 PM UTC
as i fell in love
you started to take control of me
you were suddenly released into my veins
in my bloodstream
flowing through me
thoughts of you
were spread throughout my body
putting a smile on my face
butterflies in my stomach
shakiness in my hands
and goosebumps on my arms
you are a piece of me
a part of me
i feel as if
you make me whole
i put my happiness in you
and that's where i went wrong
now
the feelings are even stronger
and to an even greater extent
and now
my frail and fragile
glass heart
is in your hands
please,
don't let it go.
-a.r.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 1:37 AM UTC
There’s a pressure building up behind my eyes
Will I release it if I cry? Will I release it if I die?
There’s a shakiness in his hands, in my hands
There’s a shakiness in the word ‘goodbye’
I’ve got fear, in puddles and petals
I sense men who disturb and unsettle
They lurk by my feet, they eat and eat
And threaten to make my body a vessel
And the devil is crawling between my lips
Offering me wine, offering me sips
Hands covering ears, chest covered in fears
My head feels heavy as it all takes a dip
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 8:53 PM UTC
“**Hineni, Hineni; I’m ready, my lord.”
(For Evangeline Ruth Hope**)
<>
*”Hineni is Hebrew for “here I am,” and is the response
Abraham gives when God calls on him
to sacrifice his son Isaac. It is also the name of a
prayer of preparation and humility, addressed to God”*
<>
*what you do not know
is that this word,
was spoken with a fist beating
a pin into the praying man’s chest
recited daily,
shades of hopeful, reverent resonance,
a shaded resolution, disguised as a quavering variable,
a statement, a questioning, an unsteady surety,
all of the above
this word, rooted in my genetic consciousness,
been ready repeated since my first whispering
was I ten years aged?
first time, full on bowing
on the synagogue floor, not fully understanding or
ready to confess my selfish need for forgiveness,
my forehead resting on my stubbed fingers resting on carpet,
worn thin by my predecessors ancestors,
who now comprehend more, but then, never enough
these same fingers, that write this collective,
Hineni,
a word repeated oft, flavoring of the who
of who I am, a training in soul fracking from
early childhood, its import, powerful beyond
today’s identity revisionist empowering
let me plainly speak, in the original language
taught to me with that other tag along, English,
a lingua franca, a dialect that can never capture
a soul presenting himself in substantiated readiness
for the whatever exists in between
hallelujah and hineni, where the rubber soul
hits the road, stumbling on hands and knees
on a forest path of roots and soil, where sunlight breaks tween
branches, are road signs to look up, look down, look within
I know your name,
Evangeline Ruth Hope
analyzed its components,
cleverly constructed Greek and Hebrew rooted,
bearer of good tidings, following Ruth in, to hope,
you a Moabite in Mormon Utah, preparing
yourself for exposure, practicing humility
unceasingly seeking
good
that is how it should be
cannot translate well enough
what was this gift given to me
learning as a youth, a wanderer, tribal member
where beseeching is second nature,
and accepting personal responsibility fully cardinal,
fiddling prayers while standing unsteady on
the roofs of extreme shakiness
hineni is then but this:
a prideful admission of strength
ready ready ready, here I am,
completely unready for the unknown future foretold,
hineni I know
here I am,
ready or not,
find me so I can be found,
cease, help me cease, my foundering,
confident in my willingness to
find a way*
netanel
9/12/19
Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 8:27 AM UTC
The musty smell fills my nostrils and I am
Frustrated.
Lines don’t go where they belong and the paint won’t dry.
I love the brush like I love the paint.
Solemnly and with respect.
Smoothness rounds my movements
Shakiness fills my hands.
I want to feel how the oil feels
Powerful; purposeful.
But what remains of me is the canvas.
Blank and achingly abismal.
Oct 22, 2019
Oct 22, 2019 at 1:38 PM UTC
The dark that fills my room at night
Holds me tight
For the shadows that make me fright
Eye contact
With the dark figure standing in front of me
We both know that I can see
The unknown figure standing in front of me
With no eyelids
Corners of its mouth twisting ear to ear
It doesn't move
Yet, I feel this eerie sensation that its moving closer to me
Trying to fall asleep
But no escape from the eyes that taunt me when I weep
Always feeling like someone was beside me when I wake up
Useless cries
Heart beating loudly in my chest
I know I try my best
To ignore
But it simply won't do
I turn around in my bed
I know it's trying its hardest to make my mattress uncomfortable
I see its head in the corner of my eyes
Its eyes are boring into mine
It looks so humanoid, yet so uncanny
My mind can't save me from this mess
My hands are in full shakiness
Please...
I'm scared
Yet, the only thing it does is stare
Feb 21, 2025
Feb 21, 2025 at 9:46 AM UTC
I know the fear is all in my head and the dizziness I feel is misleading
I know my heart is pounding does not mean i'm dying
I know the skipped beats are not threatening
I know no one is watching me
I know no one is listening
I know that its not real
I know i'm safe
I know
But
What if its real
What if I am dying
What if i'm having a heart attack
What is the dizziness makes me faint
What if everyone is watching me and noticing
What if everyone can hear the shakiness if my voice
What if my pounding heart in seconds away from stopping
Breathe.
Dec 1, 2019
Dec 1, 2019 at 8:36 PM UTC
clenching my fingers to tight into my ripped skin on my palm-
should i do it?
unsettling butterflies arising into my lungs-
will i be okay?
conflicting mind moments
gut feelings
sweat resting above my upper lip
liquefied drops of a pleasing heart
averting ocean blue eyes taking in every banged up locker
why do i even try?
large steps of pure shakiness when i see you-
can i tell what i really feel?
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
Sublime feeling,destroying
Ladders of pain,painstakingly furious.
A pure evening,she's dress'd,
Black and white,curious.
Candles,small lights flickering across the balcony,
My blood,colour disrupted,cunning.
The black thread on my left hand,running tight,
She'd say,to open it.
Lots of stories hidden inside that,how can I remove,
How can I remove?
My thumb,still feels weak,
Walls of my heart feels leak.
All the shadow running in my intestine,
feels like large is merged with small,
Her beautiful eyes,weird like marijuana,
feels like amphetamines,
Superhero I was.
Not frightened with sadness of darkness,
Frightened with the fake obligations of happiness.
Shakiness of my school streets has gone,
The taste,aroma of tarmac has gone.
Feels like she's still there with orange bar in her hand,
Lips orange,soul red and pure,
And I collected clay in the form of sand.
-Himanshu Chandra
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 3:14 PM UTC
I pinched my fingers
Formed calluses on the softer parts of my thumbs
Like you did on my lips once
I felt the lack of touch in the soles of my palms
Like hip bones just wanting to feel anything other than clothing
I've watched as my hands have trembled
Like the shakiness in a voice of denial
I've seen my hands wrinkle with time, soften with touch
I watched them grow
While they grew into the hands you didn't care of much
My hands were once red and yours blue
You touched mine and realized purple just wasn't meant for you
I stopped pinching my fingers
After realizing I shouldn't wait for a love that just lingers
But for a man that doesn't make me want to pinch my fingers
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC