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He's Bothered Again!
Where are they?
Do they have him?
Will they know?
And troubled is he
Disturbed is he
Am I troubled?
How much bothered can his soul get?
Bothered about his own life
Bothered about bothering about his life
Bothered about wealth
Bothered about bothering about wealth
And weaker and weaker he is as the day go by
And worse still shall be his story
Because he is bothered about nature
And things in it
But he is never bothered about aiding nature
Or the things in it
Such person,
I am bothered about
Because he bothers to effect no change
And bothers that he hasn't effected a change
And why he did not effect any change
But not how he could effect such change
He also bothers about those who aren't bothered
He bothers for them
His stupidity is the source of their livelihood
He bothers why they do not bother
He bothers about those who effect changes
He bothers how long it took for such change
He bothers the risk taken
He never bothers how they do it
But he bothers if they were a bandit
And everyday, he keeps bothering
And knows not that he bothers his life
And his health
And his sanity
But those who bother aren't stupid
Except if they bother like he does
poem by Ivan Chizurum Ezeigbo

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Someone Keeps Moving My Chair
Mr. horrible
Mr. horrible
Telephone call for mr. horrible
But before he can talk to the ugliness men
Theres some horrible business left
For him to attend to
Something unpleasant has spilled on his brain
As he sponges it off they say
Is this horrible?
Is this horrible?
Its the ugliness men, mr. horrible
Were just trying to bug you
We thought that our dreadfulness
Might be a thing to annoy you with
But mr. horrible says, I dont mind
The thing that bothers me is
Someone keeps moving my chair
Would you mind if we balance this glass of milk
Where your visiting friend accidentally was killed?
Would it be okay with you if we wrote a reminder
Of things well forget to do today otherwise,
Using a green magic marker, if its alright
On the back of your head?
Mr. horrible
Mr. horrible
Were not done with you yet mr. horrible
You have to try on these pants so the ugliness men
Can decide if theyre just as embarrassing as we think
We have to be sure about this
But mr. horrible says, I dont mind
The thing that bothers me is
Someone keeps moving my chair
Someone keeps moving my chair
Mr. horrible says, I dont mind
The thing that bothers me is
Someone keeps moving my chair
song performed by by They Might Be Giants

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rondeau at the Train Stop
It bothers me: the genital smell of the bay
drifting toward me on the T stop, the train
circling the city like a dingy, year-round
Christmas display. The Puritans were right! Sin
is everywhere in Massachusetts, hell-bound
in the population. it bothers me
because it's summer now and sticky - no rain
to cool things down; heat like a wound
that will not close. Too hot, these shameful
percolations of the body that bloom
between strangers on a train. It bothers me
now that I'm alone and singles foam
around the city, bothered by the lather, the rings
of sweat. Know this bay's a watery animal, hind-end
perpetually raised: a wanting posture, pain
so apparent, wanting so much that it bothers me.
poem by Erin Belieu

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What bothers you isn't so much whether you're beautiful or not. What bothers you is the way that people stare.
quote by Carole Bouquet

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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If something bothers me, it bothers me for a long time until I find a way to work it out. Music provided me with a means of working things out.
quote by Iris DeMent

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Trouble Livin
Dont talk to me bout life problems or
How you wish that things could be
cause I dont have no trouble livin
Its jus dyin that bothers me
Dont offer me no sad stories or
Tell me that youre all at sea
cause I dont have no trouble livin
Its jus dyin that bothers me
You doin great
You gettin straight
You get your call
Thats all
So dont tell me your misgivings
Or not to be or not to be
cause I dont have no trouble livin
Its jus dyin that bothers me
You doin fine
You sippin wine
You feel a pain
Last train
So dont tell me your misgivings
Or blame it on the referree
cause I dont have no trouble livin
Its jus dyin that bothers me
song performed by by Van Morrison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thermostat
When the hands that operate the motor lose control of the lever
When the mind of its own in the wheel puts two and two together
When the indicator says youre out of oil should you continue driving anyway?
Theres a thermostat that regulates the temperature
That might not be reliable
That should be disconnected
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up when the cold brings you down
When the heat bothers you turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
As I was just saying
As I was just saying
As I was just telling you a minute ago
I was just talking and someone interrupted
Or was it a loud explosion?
Or is the thermostat engulfed in flames
Or is it just me?
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up when the cold brings you down
When the heat bothers you turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
As I was just saying
As I was just saying
As I was just saying
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up when the cold brings you down
When the heat bothers you turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up when the cold brings you down
When the heat bothers you turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
song performed by by They Might Be Giants

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As I Sit Here In Pain And Write These Words
As I sit here in pain and write these words
I tell myself it is only a minor pain
Two on the scale of ten
I can bear it-
But it bothers me
It wakes me at night
It makes my walking that I so once loved
Not pleasant-
It interrupts my thought
It makes me less patient with others
It simply bothers.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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If one thing that bothers me about acting, it's that there's no clear-cut number one. The closest you can get is winning an Academy Award, and I'm going to work on that if it takes me the next 50 years. To my peers, it will mean that I'm the best!
Science is Boring
There's something bothers all of us
And that is this thing called calculus
At school we wonder why on earth
This subject might have any worth
Yet when we use our mobile telephones
Or watch TV or at home
Each thing we do is largely governed by
A mathematics that's the reason why
We may live here upon this earth
Yet touch the sky.
For science is boring
And well worth ignoring
It has no use! It has no use!
Of that we know!
So when you're exploring
The net or just something
Just realise that science
Is but just a word for everything
That we do know.
poem by David Keig

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's a Puzzle
My friend
Is not my friend any more
She has secrets from me
And goes about with Tracy Hacket
I would get her back,
Only do not want to say so.
So I pretend
To have secrets from her
And go about with Alice Banks
But what bothers me is,
Maybe she is pretending
And would like me back
Only does not want to say so.
In which case
Maybe it bothers her
That I am pretending.
But if we are both pretending,
Then really we are friends
And do not know it.
On the other hand,
How can we be friends
And have secrets from each other
And go about with other people?
My friend
Is not my friend any more,
Unless she is pretending.
I cannot think what to do.
It is a puzzle.
poem by Allan Ahlberg

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dissed
Your turned back does not bother me!
What bothers me is your stupidity...
And your accepted ignorance!
You sink like those who refused to be told,
They've reached the limits of competence.
You think like those who are holding on very bold...
To lifestyles and thoughts,
Dropping quick into 'sinkholes'!
Your turned back doesn't both me!
What bothers me is many see
A definition of life that doesn't define clearly.
And when truth is ignored...
Because it upsets those abhorred,
I'm curious what 'freedom' is seen that frees?
Something isn't mixing like it ought to be!
Your turned back doesn't bother me!
As much as my lack of concern...
Seems to bother you!
And I have lots of that to offer.
I do not miss this dismissing I'VE 'dissed'!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Crucial Times
I'm glad to see the scene working so tight
a positive commitment we made to unite
but there's still one thing that bothers me the most
the rest of this world just isn't this close
End in sight We must fight Crucial times
there's a youth crisis
you better start to care
hundreds of kids going nowhere
so many kids not in the scene
let's spread our message
tell them what we mean!
song performed by by Youth Of Today

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Is It
Why is it when someone tells you something
it keeps repeating itself over in your mind?
It is a question I have no answer for,
but it does it all the time with me.
A very dear friend told me something
that happened in their earlier years
and ever since then it keeps
repeating itself over in my mind.
I keep wishing I had been there at that time
to help them through their ordeal,
but I wasn’t and I didn’t even know them then.
Therefore, why is it now
what happened to them
bothering me so much now?
Could it be I recognise something similar
that happened within my family
and I was unable to help
all the torment that they went through?
Why is it that it bothers me
when I know happiness they found.
The question bothers me for an answer
and that answer I cannot find.
If someone knows the answer,
could they please tell me
and put me out of my misery,
letting my poor heart rest for a time.
30 October 2009
poem by David Harris

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Tears In The Rain
Rain, it's a wonderful thing
Especially on days when I'm crying
I can just sit outside in the rain
And it feels like it's washing away the pain
To you rain might seen bad
But for me it's perfect when I'm sad
If it's falling heay
No matter how hard I cry, no one will hear me
When rain is falling
It never bothers me,
I feel comforted and cosy
It reminds me that someone still cares
Because when it falls, it washes away my tears
poem by LaTisha Parkinson

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Hemingway Never Did This
I read that he lost a suitcase full of manuscripts on a
train and that they never were recovered.
I can't match the agony of this
but the other night I wrote a 3-page poem
upon this computer
and through my lack of diligence and
practice
and by playing around with commands
on the menu
I somehow managed to erase the poem
forever.
believe me, such a thing is difficult to do
even for a novice
but I somehow managed to do
it.
now I don't think this 3-pager was immortal
but there were some crazy wild lines,
now gone forever.
it bothers more than a touch, it's some-
thing like knocking over a good bottle of
wine.
and writing about it hardly makes a good
poem.
still, I thought somehow you'd like to
know?
if not, at least you've read this far
and there could be better work
down the line.
let's hope so, for your sake
and
mine.
poem by Charles Bukowski

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Sometimes It Is Nice To Be Away
away from the usual colors
today he wears black from head to toe
it is hot and the heat stings and the black color you know
absorbs everything he feels
like he is blazing with fire
from his blackness
a black heart
a gray choice of the part of day
gloomy parks at night
with only one neon
sometimes you are on fire
and Holy Goodness
you do not want to put it off
you are like the burning bush
and your soul takes off
sheds off
its slippers at the entrance door
well, sometimes, sometimes
we like not to understand
we miss the mystery of our own ignorance
and we take pleasure
with what we hide
something like a burning heart
beside a volcanic magma
a different joy and yet so alone
making stones and instant cliffs
no one bothers
that is the ecstasy of it all
when no one bothers
when you become a child again watching through the glass window
on your favorite toy
the red one
with stripes of black
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Patch Of Blue
Clouds and fog in my sight,
Waiting for the sun.
Hope to see a patch of blue
Making the scene all right.
The troublesome thing that bothers me
is knowing the sun is there.
It’s behind the clouds and fog I see
And a glimpse beyond compare
is a tiny patch of blue
suspended in mid air.
Let that patch of blue become
larger in its size.
Allow it to soothe my eyes.
I need its color to intensify
on every brand new day.
I need it to burn the grayness
and send it on its way.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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If rain bothers you, you can always jump into the sea.