"unrewarding" poems
What are you going to do,
When you become the wicked?
The sick.
The twisted.
When you can't manipulate your little girls?
When I get sick of this unrewarding lifestyle,
Living for your word?
What are you going to do,
When you become the wicked?
What are you going to do,
When you lose me?
What girl would still take you?
After all,
All you do is compare her to me.
The wicked,
That's you.
The submissive,
That's me.
I'm all you've looked for,
I'm the kind of *** you need.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 1:58 PM UTC
To have a fling at work is accepting a lot of adrenalin running through your veins. Mostly unrewarding, seldomly paid off and heartbreaking.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 10:35 AM UTC
Charity and love
go hand in hand
From my perspective,
it's two breeds of the same species
To love encompasses the desire to give
yet charity has its limits
But what limits can be placed on a charity of love?
Endless giving even as much as my soul
and the purity that's left of
which you never turned away
greed is your sin
consuming the broken pieces of me
as if it were a buffet
But wait Hey!
if you consume all of me
what is left of me
the parts you control
in fear of being alone?
How is it possible to fear
what we've already experienced?
Is the experience that horrific and unrewarding
horrendous to the mind and eye
daily disrespect is ok and warranted
Warranting questions of common sense and more
dare we say even sanity
all in the name of love and charity
because what need do I have of me
without giving to the one I love
because he needs
more than me
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
Do you ever sit and dwell on thoughts
of your old, unrewarding crushes?
They're always the world at first, but over time
their personalities begin to decay.
And sadly, I still believe
I caught a glimpse of something real
through the seams
of a stitched-up heart,
even though many truths were spoken in jest.
I will continue nail-chewing,
nervously,
'cause I can still taste their salt on me;
Never regretting-- yet, denying-- the deafening growl
of my chainsaw libido overpowering theirs,
as it cut right through,
leaving our bodies in a lifeless spoon.
This somehow helped me to overcome that kind of rejection
when I was still tangible to the elitists I wished would keep
out of my reach.
But now, I've paid my dime
to come to terms with the cool of the discomfort
crashing down around me, like
a black raspberry avalanche.
Aug 25, 2011
Aug 25, 2011 at 11:45 PM UTC
Your sleepy eyes and broken smile,
Little messages on my voicemail box.
Your smashed guitar and nights binge drinking,
Smelled your fragrance in my sheets.
Unrewarding look, burned your toast,
So apathetic, let's just go down the street.
You're admiring bagels and counting the flavors,
Ripped jeans and leather boots.
I'm glad I'm not dead yet,
Infinite playlist and a song called 'Robbers'.
You spilled your coffee and smiled,
Horrible delivery of kind words.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 11:03 PM UTC
Tell me what it is
About the trees
Dusty grey and gloomy in October
That resonates so dearly with a heart
Melancholy and somber
This rain is soothing
Like the soft white I line my walls with
A golden haze playing through my veins
And flames to match the essence
But not the calefaction
You can watch me drift into a paralysis effortlessly
A debilitation cold and lingering
Like lifeless trees awaiting the worst
Some sun
Does not change the course of nature
And I wonder what flavor of future
Nature holds for me
I feel like the trees
In the middle of a foggy autumn afternoon
Comfortable
And content
Living in the shadows of a world
Too engulfed in regurgitated highs
To contemplate or appreciate struggle
A world utterly ignorant to individuals soft spoken and inherently
Harmonious in the ways of authenticity
And naturalism and realism
We have the endurance to undergo lifelong tempests
But lack the energy to speed through
Trivial phases of Insatiable beauty
Our growth is goddess enough
Tell me what it is about the moon
Majestic and nostalgically haunting
A calming through night's terrors
And unforgiving traumas
Silver whisps of validation shine into a heart
With love looking a little too much like silhouettes
An ebony void seeping into the cracks of joy
And pain becoming an obvious pattern
And the moon is there always
Watching the molding in a resentful awe
What happened to the life of the young
Happiness looking like summer nights
And chrismas lights and vintage pop bottles
Fading into an uninviting outline
Through that type of half reality
Half fantasy version of time
Months feeling like hours
But unrewarding years all the same
Childhoods disappearing into insomnia
And I'm not very hungry
And I don't want anything for my birthday
Kind of aloof answers
We get it
We're all just tired
Tell me what it is
About the stillness of autumn
That induces a numbness in our hearts
Watching our desires blow away with the wind
One by one
They sing their remorse through aeolian howls
Uncanny and ghost like
Or the early nightfalls
That strangely feel more intimate
Than our last touch did
A type of familiarity rather profound
And lacking in any form of resentment
Maybe it's the significance in vulnerability
The stripping away of irrelevant priorities
To see the real
To see the roots
Tell me what is is
About the trees
Dusty grey and gloomy in October
That soothes a tired soul
A vagabond in search for more
And a heart a little too in love with loss
May 31, 2020
May 31, 2020 at 2:21 AM UTC
Hey there girl
you know it's been awhile
since we road down back roads
just rackin' up the miles
you are so very beautiful
I love that turquoise blue
black and pink accentuate
your frame in subtle hues
the rubber we were layin'
really brings me there
remembering the miles
wind blowin' through my hair
I really miss the rides
that brought you to the end
if an unrewarding Journey
this wish to you I send
One that we could travel
behind that steering wheel
bringing lovely thoughts to me
in which you made me feel
that engine why it purred
and sounded badass loud
drivin' 'round with you
it always made us proud
Perhaps one might have guessed
you're really just my truck
I'm sorry that your engine died
For running out of luck
I can still remember
our favorite fishing trips
Way out in the woods
You always kept your grip
down some rugged roads
kept us safe from harm
I hear you got a new life
You didn't bite the farm!
So keep those people happy
and sing a tune for me
rembering the time
we raised ....
a family
I'll try not to be sad
and let this be farewell
they say you're just a thing
in this I must not dwell
If energy lives on
those memories never died
like you're beating engine
on which our lives relied.
Cherie Nolan © 2016
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 8:47 AM UTC
Quiet Morning
29 april 2021
Reflections on the sea of responsibility,
Realize the deficiencies of mood and logic.
Decisions selfish and unrewarding, impromptu,
Bring the prize of self defeat, pain and endless regret.
Burdens of debt in the baskets of life.
Unbalanced on the heads of the lost.
Struggling to find the way.
Conscience stirs then looks away, but all pay the price.
Lonely game hide and go seek in the stilled rising sunlight.
How to make call, “:You’re Out”?
Apr 29, 2021
Apr 29, 2021 at 8:21 AM UTC
.
i launch from within
the critical business of sleep and dreamwork
and into the pre-furnished day
mucus skin
like the first gobbed up evolver to get turfed up on the beaches
i let go the veils of those true solving agents
the motions those treasurable scenes
of bloom and swoon tidal theatre
they disperse
and i tough out a self applied
measured and subservient routine
a hasty and unrewarding approach to 'productive' business
it brings me distaste
but cements me in shared society
passer bys throw up their greetings
and i heave 'hellos' in return
Aug 14, 2024
Aug 14, 2024 at 10:05 PM UTC
'Pon this grand Stage we call "Life,"
t'is up to you, and only you,
to be a Character,
or to otherwise sink
into a stagnant state,
being just another Extra.
Which will you choose?
I know I've chosen:
seize what days I have.
You can be banal,
it's easy and unrewarding;
set up for yourself
a mundane Life;
letting each day
pass evermore begrudgingly
as redundant iterations and projections
of your own uninteresting Mind,
or,
you can defy that lull of Life,
you can deviate from the herd
you can be an exquisite piece of Art-
created by the very act of existing,
moderately uncompromisingly,
howsoever that happens to be
that you, alone, desire.
(Anyone seeking so much as to try
to stop, limit or discourage you
is unhealthy for your potential)
Will you find yourself
on the long list
of names so long forgotten,
or will you be
remembered, forevermore,
by thy peers?
Tell me, Self,
I'm curious:
which shall be thy choice:
a Path of a Character,
or that of a mere Extra?
Better still,
because talk is so cheap,
so superfluous:
show me.
Show me.
Show me who you truly are.
I want to be unable to disbelieve.
I refuse to be an Extra
in the story of my own Life.
I refuse to be an Extra
if I have any say in the matter.
Would you?
Do you?
Are you?
Well, show me:
we shall see.
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 2:20 PM UTC
i still haven't
found what
i am
looking for is
much more
complex,
much more
profound than
just a few things.
unrewarding
is a life
asea that
lives and breathes
within one's
dreams.
exhausted;
what i look for
may not
even exist
except for
what lies in
my subconscious
mind.
dubiously
just living
and seemingly
wasting time.
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 8:19 AM UTC
Among the weeds are seeds of hate
growing at an alarming rate
and strangle good intention's throat
until it's dead by aggressive choke
Hate takes flight and whirls around
never finding firmer ground
jumping like flames from tree to tree
unyielding in it's misery
Once unleashed it cannot hide
it tries to hold it's head with pride
but perfect lives it bitterly sours
powerfully destroying as it flowers
The devastation in it's wake
of happy dreams it does forsake
as hatred manifests itself
at damnation's stagnant lake
For those who hate in every way
a heavy bitter price they pay
as those who once believed
now know they've been deceived
No earthly good can come of it
as no one will offer it to sit
turning backs on those who hate
this unrewarding destructive trait
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
Waiting for some high ranking leaders of nations to grow up
can be a most unrewarding waste of time.
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 6:09 AM UTC
Some day I believe
There there will come
A time
In which I might think ,
That I ........
Retrospectively
Wished I would have
Seen this coming..
Then again that would have surely taken some of the fun out of it.
Cause knowing me....
If I had known..............
I dont think I would have done it
I know I would have done it anyway......
And there's one more reason why ,
Its so sorta unrewarding
To read books backwards
Mar 22, 2022
Mar 22, 2022 at 5:13 PM UTC