Frustration
There are days of great frustration
when you want to do something, but can’t.
The more you try the worse it gets,
not giving up you keep trying repeatedly
only just to get the same reply.
The more you yank at your hair,
the balder you get,
until finally your iron will snaps
and you say that is that,
I will come back another day
and try all over again.
Hopefully I will have more success then
with fingers and anything else you can cross.
It is your only hope for survival
from the frustration that you feel.
12 November 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Iridescent
You were standing in the wake of
devastation
And you were waiting on the edge of the
unknown
And with the cataclysm raining down
Insides crying 'Save me now'
You were there, impossibly alone
Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failure's all you've
known
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go. Let it go
And in a burst of light that blinded every
angel
As if the sky had blown the heavens into
stars
You felt the gravity of tempered grace
Falling into empty space
No one there to catch you in their arms
Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failure's all you've
known
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go. Let it go
Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failure's all you've
known
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go. Let it go
Let it go
Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failure's all you've
known
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go. Let it go
poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Frustration
Frustration sits on the top of the wardrobe
blinking at me, ears twitching,
tail up.
Frustration follows my every move with her eyes,
green as emeralds, alluring
but aloof.
Frustration is my black cat, purring,
knowing that I can't reach her,
arching her back.
I make a grab for her when I can
but she leaves me breathless
gritting my teeth.
She always has the upper hand,
always rules the roost,
my cat.
We ignore each other for a while,
she'll stare at the wall, pretend to plot flies,
all hypnotised.
The she'll come and sit on my lap,
on her terms, never mine
to butter me up.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Problems At PH
At times PH is plagued with problems
and new ones crop up everyday.
However, its appeal is irresistible
no matter what we say.
It gets to you at times when you log in
and it logs you out again.
You make a comment on a poem, post it
and when the page refreshes
the comment isn’t there.
You post it again and again
and the recipient of the comment
wonders why you posted it a half a dozen times.
Then there are the times when it just won’t let you in
and your frustration grows.
Each day is a new adventure
whenever we log in again and again and again.
If you ask the powers to be a question,
it is months before you get a reply.
You say that you are going to leave,
but the draw is irresistible
and therefore instead of saying goodbye
you should be saying is see you later
when I can log in.
We must love the frustration that this site brings
and one day hope the powers to be
might eventually get it right.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love The Word Hope
I love the word hope 'tis a great word it keeps reminding you when you are down
That in many ways you are lucky you are not the worst off in the town
Compared to some you are quite lucky and though you may not be one of the privileged few
There's hope and comfort in the thought that many are worse off than you.
I love the word hope it seems positive to hope for the good days ahead
For life for you is scarce worth living if the hope in your heart it is dead
To hope for a better tomorrow is the thing that keeps us keeping on
For you do not have much to live for if hope out of your life is gone.
I love the word hope it's uplifting for those who are feeling quite low
For as they say hope springs eternal and out of hope success can grow
And one can only see a dark future for one who is struggling to cope
If that person has lost the great gift the gift that we all know as hope.
I love the word hope it's a great gift those who have it in them have fight
They keep on going through the dark tunnel till finally they reach the light
And when you retain hope through your hard days you are telling the World I'm alive
For without it life on you much harder and you find it so hard to survive.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Use My Frustration As a Means For Your Motivation
We seem to always seek that need,
To find a comfort feeding to please.
Wishing we were given space...
When it is wanted,
And when it should take place.
Use my frustration,
As a means for your motivation.
You always bring me there,
Without concern or care.
Use my frustration,
In re-inactments as libations.
Use my sweated brow to rehearse...
How to implement your curse!
We seem to find time to criticize,
Those close to us and on our side.
Nit-picking everything they do...
With a disregard of loyalty,
And a devotion shown that's proved!
Believing we 'must' be satisfied,
Or a temper tantrum undenied...
Begins to break through,
With pouts and shouts and cussing spewed!
Use my frustration,
As a means for your motivation.
You always bring me there,
Without concern or care.
Use my frustration,
In re-inactments as libations.
Use my sweated brow to rehearse...
How to implement your curse!
Use my frustration,
As a means for your motivation.
And when you've completely exhausted me...
Tell others how I am selfish.
How difficult it is...
To live with 'me'.
Use my frustration,
As a means for your motivation.
Create those scenes how I've treated you mean...
And when you pack and decide to leave,
Don't be surprised if no one believes your grief!
Everytime you bitch and whine...
Noticed very few listen to you each time?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I don't think I could play a character that I couldn't relate to somehow. I'm not unfamiliar with frustration, anger, shame, helplessness and a load of other emotions that make up our psycho-soup. I try to focus on that frustration, that sense of unfairness, and multiply it.
quote by Terry O'Quinn
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In Veronicas Head
He lifted her face from the pillow and said, baby such is life
And then he pushed his suitcase out through the door
And givem something to talk about
The door slammed, left a scar
Shed be damned she could see him in his car
So much for marriage and the good, good wife
Well, maybe its a fact of life
But in veronicas head the wheels were burning
Turning out of frustration
Veronicas bed mocked every private
Thing she said to the bastard
She dyed her hair black in the bathroom mirror
Hed liked it blonde on his wife
An act of independence, a small victory
Hey, it was something to shout about
Cause at night, shed crack
Shed feel his strong fingers raking down her back
Shed wake up angry, but turned on like a light
Yeah maybe its a fact of life
But in veronicas head the wheels were burning
Turning out of frustration
Veronica said, she would never be the same, no
But in veronicas head, the fields were burning
Burning down the destruction
She turns around, hes there
Confusing her with his promises
And crying on the telephone
She twists and she turns in circles
With all of her strength, she breaks free
She stumbles and she nearly falls
But in veronicas head the wheels were burning
Turning out of frustration
Veronica said she would never be the same, no
But in veronicas head the fields were burning
Burning down the destruction
Veronicas bed, she lies there listening
Late at night to her heartbeat, oooh
The wheels are turning
And in veronicas head the fields are burning
The wheels are turning
The fields are burning
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Iron Cross
THEY pass, with heavy eyes and hair,
Before the Christ upon the Cross,
The Nations, stricken with their loss,
And lifting faces of despair.
What is the prayer they pray to Him,
Christ Jesus on the Iron Cross?
The Christ, neglected, dark with moss,
Whose hands are pierced, whose face is grim.
Is it forgiveness for great sin
They plead before the Iron Cross?
Or for some gift of gold or dross?
Or battle lost, that they would win?
With eyes where hate and horror meet,
They pass before the Iron Cross,
The Cross, that ancient words emboss,
Where hangs the Christ with nail-pierced feet.
His hair is fallen on his face.
His head hangs sidewise from the Cross —
The Crucified, who knows all loss,
And had on Earth no resting place.
'O world of men,' he seems to say,
'Behold me on your Iron Cross!
To me why kneel and tell your loss?
Why kneel to me and weep and pray?
'Have I not taught you to forgive?
And bade you from my Iron Cross
Believe, and bear your grief and loss,
That after death you too may live?
'You have not followed at my call!
You keep me on this Iron Cross,
And pray me keep you from all loss,
And save and comfort you withal.—
'You ask for love, and hate the more! —
You keep me on this Iron Cross!—
Restore to me my greater loss,
The brotherhood of rich and poor.'
They pass, with weary eyes and hair,
Before the Christ upon the Cross —
The Nations, wailing of their loss,
And lifting faces of despair.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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A Poisoned Chalice
Education
breeds expectation.
Expectation
leads to frustration.
Frustration
is a suicide bomber.
Flowers of the Void
are not so easily destroyed
Insubstantial from the start,
they shine on in each empty heart.
poem by Brian Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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GINGER SNAPS...by talile ali
ONE OF THE STRANGEST TRUTHS, I GUESS
I ALWAYS KNOW GIRLS THAT I WANT TO UNDRESS
IT SEEMS KINDA STRANGE, BUT WHAT CAN I SAY
IF THEY LIKE GINGER SNAP'S, I KNOW THAT I'LL GET MY WAY
CHORUS
GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
I AM SUCH A FAN OF THOSE GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
SEND ME THE WOMEN I NEED
I SAID IT WAS STRANGE, BUT I'M NOT MAKING IT UP
IF THEY LIKE GINGER SNAPS, I'LL BE EATIN THEM UP
MAYBE IT'S JUST MY THINKIN, BUT I CAN SAY I FEEL
THE SIMPLE FACT TO ME STEPS INTO THE SURREAL
CHORUS
GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
I AM SUCH A FAN OF THOSE GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
GINGER SNAPS
SEND ME THE WOMEN I NEED
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anger And Frustration
Sometimes we get angry
over the silliest of things,
but it is not anger,
but frustration
over something we cannot do.
If we could have done it,
there would have
been no anger there.
There is no easy solution
to get over it.
It is part of our nature
I am afraid to say.
The sad thing is
it will never go away.
We will always suffer the frustration
and the anger that goes with it.
9 May 2008
poem by David Harris
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Different views on life
you see a strong girl fighting through,
I see a girl try to excape,
you see me taking life as it comes,
I see me as bearly passing by,
when are you going to see,
what I see,
life not all full of rainbows and butterflies,
my world filled with demons,
your world well lit,
mine is dark and angry,
can you see?
we are not the same,
you can't understand my pain,
just like I will never understand yours,
I wish you did,
than you can see,
what I see,
and feel what I feel,
but, you can't!
you can only imagine,
I can be on fire,
but that still won't match the pain I feel inside,
I can punch a wall,
but my anger will remain the same,
I can pull my hair out,
but my frustration still won't ease,
and you will never truely see,
the things I face on an everyday basis.
Copyright © 2009
8-27-09
poem by Mona Martinez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sickness, Life
Anger, frustration, pain
All the symptoms of life
Life is not easy
Life is not supposed to be easy
Life is a giagantic lesson to be learned
Life is sucess you must earn
Even through the Anger frustration and pain
There is somehting to gain
Sucess is not handed to you
Sucess is earned
Life is not easy
Life is like an illness
You cant get through it without pain or frustration
This is how life is
This is how life always will be
poem by Poetic Flower
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Frustration, although quite painful at times, is a very positive and essential part of success.
quote by Bo Bennett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Personal Paradise
'What's Up? ' You ask as I walk into the shop.
I tighten my coat a bit, smiling oddly.
A dozen thoughts, old humor, buzz through my head.
My blood pressure, the hair on the back of my neck,
The cost of living, The sky, the ceiling, my &*^%,
and invariably...
My heartbeat at the sight of your hair,
My frustration level; you've never looked at me twice!
The pulse behind my eyes that screams out I love you.
'Time, ' I reply. My own failings, I think.
I look you in the eye, a last lingering appraisal.
Then raise my arms high, letting my thumb slip,
and smile as the ground falls away, the world burns,
and Allah carries me to paradise.
There, I will find you again, I have burned for you.
As I have burned others for the sake of my god.
For my own personal paradise; my own reward.
poem by Poet Dragon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early Works - In Friendship
To Maurice Callard
The days were marked with frustration
each getting more than the last.
A friend with a proposition
an opportunity that might last.
Along dark corridors to an almost empty room
a light for ambition awaiting there,
a mere mortal with friendly words.
The days seem shorter than before
the frustration begins to decline.
A thought rears from the subconscious
is spurred on to a climax.
A year of tension
and seemingly impossible task,
but its ending is enjoyment.
Years pass almost unnoticed
the light is now a friend
someone whom I think highly
who’s prompting never ends.
Someone to identify with
whom my reward is regarded as friendship.
I ask no higher accolade
from him or any other.
For friendship is a bond
for which my life has purpose.
28 February 1980
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Luv Lies
ahh when you cross that line that you know you cant erase
to fall in lust not love aint no sin at all
and tell me when your with your bestfriends friend do you still feel out of place
no thanks I took that ride
God only knows I tried believing
I imagine everyone sometimes would cross their heart and hope to die
to tell I love you lies
I imagine everyone survives for giving up all that you got to tell I love you lies
the first time you look for love you find you dont know jack
yeah so much for mind games you play to win
cause first you lose your hearts desire then you get it back
but in the same place theres so much more behind the kiss I'm feeling
I imagine everyone sometimes will cross their heart and hope to die to tell I love you lies
I imagine everyone survives for giving up all that you got to tell I love
you lies
When lonliness and paranoia feeds me
god help the person who needs me
If ignorance is bliss than take me off the list I'm leaving
I imagine everyone sometimes will cross their heart and hope to die to tell I love you lies
I imagine everyone survives for giving up all that you got to tell I love you lies
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Desire Remained A Desire
My desire
Remained a desire
Never got fulfilled
So I decided
To make another desire,
I prayed to god
To give me strength
Not to desire
After few days
I asked god
What happened to?
My desire
Of not desiring
God said to me
Since you desired
Not to ever desire
If I fulfill it
You shall not get
What you desired
If I do not fulfill
Your desire
You shall keep on
Complaining
About unfulfilment
Of desire
So my advice is
Desire less
Remain contented
Do not expect much
As expectation breeds
Frustration
And frustration breeds
Anger
In anger one looses cool
Becomes
Rash and purposeless
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Endorsed Remorse
He was not shooting at the people.
He was shooting at the world.
He wasn't shooting in specifics,
It was from a random frustration...
He unleashed to unfurl.
And everytime I hear these excuses,
Made in the defense of these social misfits...
I've come to realize how quick some are,
To apply their comprehension...
For a call for all,
To forgive their embarrassments!
He was not shooting at the people.
He was shooting at the world.
He wasn't shooting in specifics,
It was from a random frustration...
He unleashed to unfurl.
And psychologists are called,
To calm a public fed on decadence.
With attention to examine...
Their lifestyles spent in ignorance,
But no one should pay at their own expense.
And with accepted intelligence,
The media gives them time to explain...
How certain people amongst them live...
Suffer from stress,
That makes them temporarily insane.
He was not shooting at the people.
He was shooting at the world.
He wasn't shooting in specifics,
It was from a random frustration...
He unleashed to unfurl.
And the business of depicting their enemies,
Continues with alerted threats.
Yet no one with this deluded mindset,
Is described as a terrorist.
With a face splashed over the news,
With a demeaning of their ethnic heritage...
Exclaimed to diminish and to disrespect.
But...
He was not shooting at the people.
He was shooting at the world.
He wasn't shooting in specifics,
It was from a random frustration...
He unleashed to unfurl.
And all need to empathize,
In reminded sympathy
With the giving to him...
Our endorsed remorse.
Especially in 'his' hour of need!
'Huh? '
He is not responsbile.
Our lack to befriend him...
Has resulted in his acts.
'And the others? '
What about the others?
They have the look,
We have decided as guilt.
They have that guilty presence...
They and the rest of their ilk.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unopened Doors
Many doors of opportunity
remain shut through passing time.
You stand at them,
but they never open to let you pass through.
You try and try, but with no avail.
The door remains shut to you,
but you see other pass through it
and your frustration grows.
You bang and shout
and never anyone answers you.
The years slip silently by
from your youth until your old.
Each time you try the door
it refuses to let you through.
Even with more wisdom
it refuses to let you in,
but you don’t give up
you just try and try again.
More time passes
and you’ve lost the will
to want to go through.
You reach that point when you feel the battle lost.
Turning your back you walk away
to let the sun set on your life.
You feel you have nothing now,
no more will to fight.
Someone suggests a different direction,
a different door to go through.
You are hesitant
in case the door remains shut to you.
Finally, you try it
and are amazed to find
the door opens easily
and you can walk through,
but you keep remembering
the door that wouldn’t open for you.
25 March 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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