Digression On Number 1, 1948
I am ill today but I am not
too ill. I am not ill at all.
It is a perfect day, warm
for winter, cold for fall.
A fine day for seeing. I see
ceramics, during lunch hour, by
Mir6, and I see the sea by Leger;
light, complicated Metzingers
and a rude awakening by Brauner,
a little table by Picasso, pink.
I am tired today but I am not
too tired. I am not tired at all.
There is the Pollock, white, harm
will not fall, his perfect hand
and the many short voyages. They'll
never fence the silver range.
Stars are out and there is sea
enough beneath the glistening earth
to bear me toward the future
which is not so dark. I see.
Click here to view the painting this poem was written about:
Jackson Pollock's "Number 1 (1948)"
poem by Frank O'Hara
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Related quotes
Remarks About Kings
"God said I am tired of kings." -- EMERSON
God said, "I am tired of kings,"--
But that was a long while ago!
And meantime man said, "No,--
I like their looks in their robes and rings."
So he crowned a few more,
And they went on playing the game as before,
Fighting and spoiling things.
Man said, "I am tired of kings!
Sons of the robber-chiefs of yore,
They make me pay for their lust and their war;
I am the puppet, they pull the strings;
The blood of my heart is the wine they drink.
I will govern myself for awhile I think,
And see what that brings!"
Then God, who made the first remark,
Smiled in the dark.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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I'm Tired Of It All
I am tired of it all
I am tired of today
I am tired of the summer heat-
I am tired of all the years of trying to be something
And still being nothing and no one
I am tired of myself and my ambition
I am tired of reading the great poems of others
I am tired of Poetry
I am tired of being old
I am tired of no longer having the means to help those I care for-
I am tired of having written for so many years
And having so little to show for it-
I am tired of being an old man getting older -
I am tired of being afraid of what is going to happen to me
And those close to me
I am tired of having so many sick friends-
I am tired of having more and more people I have known who are dead
I am tired of a world in which violence and stupidity play such a great part
I am tired of all the problems that should have been solved years ago
And yet persist-
I am tired of cruelty
I am tired of rudeness and petty selfishness
I am tired of seeing the evil get away with it
I am tired truly tired
Tired of being tired also
Tired of myself and my complaints-
And my failure all these years
To make things right-
And yet and yet with all the tiredness
I know there is so much else even in myself-
I still want to live and dream and hope and help those I love
I still want to write still a few lines of poetry
that will be read by others
And help them
Dream to begin again
I still want to give to those I love
The little I still have to give
I still want to live
For life itself is life itself is still good
Despite the tiredness.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I'm Tired
I'm tired of people messing with me
I'm tired of people treating me wrong
I'm tired of people saying I stank
I'm tired of people remembering the past
I'm tired of black people
I'm tired of stupid people
I'm tired of selfish people
I'm tired of being the target all the time
I'm tired of feeling sad
I'm tired of people thinking there better than everybody else
I'm tired of people not appreciating me
I'm tired of being tired
I'm tired of being tired
I'm just tired
poem by Shawanda Polk
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Manners
For a Child of 1918
My grandfather said to me
as we sat on the wagon seat,
"Be sure to remember to always
speak to everyone you meet."
We met a stranger on foot.
My grandfather's whip tapped his hat.
"Good day, sir. Good day. A fine day."
And I said it and bowed where I sat.
Then we overtook a boy we knew
with his big pet crow on his shoulder.
"Always offer everyone a ride;
don't forget that when you get older,"
my grandfather said. So Willy
climbed up with us, but the crow
gave a "Caw!" and flew off. I was worried.
How would he know where to go?
But he flew a little way at a time
from fence post to fence post, ahead;
and when Willy whistled he answered.
"A fine bird," my grandfather said,
"and he's well brought up. See, he answers
nicely when he's spoken to.
Man or beast, that's good manners.
Be sure that you both always do."
When automobiles went by,
the dust hid the people's faces,
but we shouted "Good day! Good day!
Fine day!" at the top of our voices.
When we came to Hustler Hill,
he said that the mare was tired,
so we all got down and walked,
as our good manners required.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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Sick And Tired
Im sick of pretending its all perfect
Tired of living a lie
Sick of loving you
Tired of the tears I cry
Im sick of giving you my love
Tired of getting nothing in return
Sick of all your other girls
Tired of being unable to learn
Im sick of running back to you
Tired of returning hurt
Sick of been laughed about
Tired of being treated like dirt
Im sick of living this life
Tired of being blue
Sick of thoughts about giving up
Tired of the stupid things I do
Im so sick of it all
So sick Im going do it
So tired of been stuck in the middle
So tired Im going to quit
So Tired
Well, Ive been on the road
For a year or more
And Ive done a lot of things
I never did before
Now I want everyone
To listen to my song
And you can tell me
When youve heard it
If you think Im wrong
cause Im so tired
Of everybody staring at me
Yes, Im so tired
And Im so uninspired
Please help me
Well Ive seen em rise
And Ive seen em fall
And I use to think that
I was having a ball
But I was kiddin myself
For a long long time
But now I got myself a spoon
And Im feeling fine
But Im so tired
Of everybody staring at me
Yes, Im so tired
And Im so uninspired
Wont you please help me
Where can you go
Where can you go
When there is no one
To show a guiding light
What did you say
What did you say
Have you been thinking about me
Day and night
cause Im so tired
Of everybody staring at me
And Im so, so tired
Im so uninspired
Please help me
Wont you please me ...
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Recuerdo
We were very tired, we were very merry --
We had gone back and forth all night upon the ferry.
It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable --
But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table,
We lay on the hill-top underneath the moon;
And the whistles kept blowing, and the dawn came soon.
We were very tired, we were very merry --
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry;
And you ate an apple, and I ate a pear,
From a dozen of each we had bought somewhere;
And the sky went wan, and the wind came cold,
And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold.
We were very tired, we were very merry,
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.
We hailed, "Good morrow, mother!" to a shawl-covered head,
And bought a morning paper, which neither of us read;
And she wept, "God bless you!" for the apples and the pears,
And we gave her all our money but our subway fares.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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The Arabian Shawl
"It is cold outside, you will need a coat--
What! this old Arabian shawl!
Bind it about your head and throat,
These steps... it is dark... my hand... you
might fall."
What has happened? What strange, sweet charm
Lingers about the Arabian shawl...
Do not tremble so! There can be no harm
In just remembering--that is all.
"I love you so--I will be your wife,"
Here, in the dark of the Terrace wall,
Say it again. Let that other life
Fold us like the Arabian shawl.
"Do you remember?"... "I quite forget,
Some childish foolishness, that is all,
To-night is the first time we have met...
Let me take off my Arabian shawl!"
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Forget Today
Forget today my tired soul
imagine you never said those destructive words
another person no longer sees your worth
but tomorrow brings a reason to hope
Forget today my tired soul
pretend you hadn't created your own downfall
you've lost the chance to make a friend
but there's always a chance to make ammends
Forget today my tired soul
wipe the tears that fall from your eyes
Love has once again overlooked our door
but one day her sweet face will be seen again
Forget today my tired soul
don't dwell on the pain that lives within
the clouds are bleak and the sun seems so far away
but I promise you someday we'll have our moment to shine
poem by Deana Rode
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Night and Day
Night is bleak and my bed is warm.
Dark is dismal and my home is safe.
Today was torture and happily, I live alone.
The day has ended and I yawn.
The day has ended, but I am holding on.
Today everything went wrong- as it did
Yesterday and the day before.
Nights are dismal and my bed is inviting.
The day is over- I am tired.
I am tired but am trying to keep my eyes open.
I am fighting sleep although
Today was hell on earth.
I can hear voices inside my head saying
“Tomorrow is another day.”
Nighttime is dreary and today was
A fight to stay alive.
Today is over, and I yawn and keep my eyes open.
If tomorrow is another day and
Night is bleak, dark and relentless-
What am I holding onto?
No matter how dismal is the night and
How filled with pain today was-
I cannot let myself fall asleep and awaken, then
Find myself in hell’s brushfire only to
Begin another day…
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Sick And Tired
Got no time to be on the run,
Got no holes in my shoes,
You're the reasong all my friends have gone,
But I won't run from you.
So many promises, and you broke them all,
Oh I'll forgive, but I can't forget,
You know you're a fake, but I just can't take no more,
Cause I'm tired of it.
I'm so tired, so tired,
Sick and tired of it all,
I'm so tired, sick and tired,
I'm so tired, sick and tired of it all, yeah.
You turn the truth, then you turn your back,
You're a victim of yourself,
The hate remains, the hurting still exists.
I'm so tired of it all.
I'm so tired, sick and tired,
So damn tired, sick and tired of it all, oh yeah,
I'm so tired, I'M sick and tired of it all
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tired Of Me
You say hold on to the reigns
I say let them go tonight
My brain waves
Confused between what is and aint
She cries groundless and free
.
Tired of the water
Tired of the wine
Tired of the future
Tired of time
Tired of the madness
Tired of the steel
Tired of the violence
Tired of me
.
Used steel
Used steel am i
What was pliable in love
Is now hard and crystallized
The intellect is fine
For counting money
And recalling times
That she cried,
Groundless and free
.
Hope is a letter that never arrives
Delivered by the postman of my fear
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm So Tired
i'm so tired (lennon/mccartney)
I'm so tired, i haven't slept a wink
I'm so tired, my mind is on the blink
I wonder should i get up and fix myself a drink
No,no,no.
I'm so tired i don't know what to do
I'm so tired my mind is set on you
I wonder should i call you but i know what you'd do
You'd say i'm putting you on
But it's no joke, it's doing me harm
You know i can't sleep, i can't stop my brain
You know it's three weeks, i'm going insane
You know i'd give you everything i've got
For a little peace of mind
I'm so tired, i'm feeling so upset
Although i'm so tired i'll have another cigarette
And curse sir walter raleigh
He was such a stupid git.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Tired
Scent on a postcard
A memory left behind
Warm hand, cool look but no time...
Winsome lose some
Hung up on old flame
My heart depends on fire
So who am I to make demands on love?
...relax and walk on by
So tired
So tired
Beaten like a drum
So tired
Living life alone
So tired
Beaten like a drum
Kiss the right faces
And tap the party line
Short measure of cheap skate pleasure
Easier said than done
Sip the night water
But not too drunk to say
Well just who am I to ever hope to love you?
Id turn and shy away
So tired
So tired
Beaten like a drum
So tired
Living life alone
So tired
Beaten like a drum
Once upon a bed
You said you loved me
Once upon a bed
Those eyes of blue
Now what am I supposed to do?
So tired -
So tired
Beaten like a drum
So tired
Live my life alone, so alone
Once upon a bed
You said you loved me
Once upon a bed
Those eyes of blue
And what am I to rhyme with you?
Now I lie alone and so defenceless
Dream of love in sunny daze with you
So tired...
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tired Of Waiting
tired of waiting
I've been waiting up all night
tired of waiting
I've been waiting since midnight
tired of waiting
just to give you an insight
tired of waiting
I've half a mind to walk away
and half a mind to stay
I'm tired of waiting
I'm tired of the lies, baby
too many broken promises
am I the only one who cares
I must be dreaming
are you for real today
oh, look at the bed we made
woe-betide the friends that I betrayed
god only knows the price I paid
you can't imagine
I gave you time and space
but love still leaves you cold, no time to waste
let me be your saving grace
I'm tired of waiting
alright
tired of waiting
hate to see you so uptight
tired of waiting
let me give you an insight
tired of waiting
with the benefit of hindsight
tired of waiting
when your father ran away to sea
he was running to be free
I know the feeling
'cause you put the hurt on me
I try so hard to compensate
all you do is make me wait
times are changing
you can lean on me
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sick & Tired
Got no time to be on the run,
Got no holes in my shoes,
Youre the reasong all my friends have gone,
But I wont run from you.
So many promises, and you broke them all,
Oh Ill forgive, but I cant forget,
You know youre a fake, but I just cant take no more,
Cause Im tired of it.
Im so tired, so tired,
Sick and tired of it all,
Im so tired, sick and tired,
Im so tired, sick and tired of it all, yeah.
You turn the truth, then you turn your back,
Youre a victim of yourself,
The hate remains, the hurting still exists.
Im so tired of it all.
Im so tired, sick and tired,
So damn tired, sick and tired of it all, oh yeah,
Im so tired, Im sick and tired of it all.
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Got Chocolate?
Snowflakes the size of marshmallows fall to the earth;
Frosty icy winds play havoc with her red curly hair.
She delights in frolicking in snow so deep;
Bundled up in bright green coat and leggings,
pink hat, scarf and gloves
she brightens up the gray day.
Grandpa dons his own snow gear, dark brown coat,
black ear muffs, gloves and red Santa hat;
shovel in hand he begins to clear the path
when 'she' playfully jumps into it re-snowing it
to Grandpa's chagrin as he grins
pretending to be annoyed.
but he re-shovels again with great patience.
The worst of the storm has passed. The white stuff
is the perfect setting this day, this Christmas Eve.
Cold, wet and tired Grandpa and granddaughter
come in to warm up to hot chocolate with marshmallows
and it reminds curly head of the snow fall today.
Grandpa's white mustache is chocolate dyed.
Curly Head's mouth says: 'Got chocolate? '
Bedtime has evolved, Santa's on his way.
Curly head has left him a treat in a cup.
Santa arrived;
he put Curly Head's presents under the tree
Santa's white mustache gave him away;
he looked at himself in the mantle mirror
and laughed a hearty, 'HO, HO, HO'
His white mustache was chocolate dyed
and he cried aloud:
'GOT CHOCOLATE?
'HO, HO, HO! '
© Mel Patterson,11-2011
poem by Mel Patterson
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My Fairy
I have a fairy by my side
Which says I must not sleep,
When once in pain I loudly cried
It said "You must not weep"
If, full of mirth, I smile and grin,
It says "You must not laugh"
When once I wished to drink some gin
It said "You must not quaff".
When once a meal I wished to taste
It said "You must not bite"
When to the wars I went in haste
It said "You must not fight".
"What may I do?" at length I cried,
Tired of the painful task.
The fairy quietly replied,
And said "You must not ask".
Moral: "You mustn't."
poem by Lewis Carroll
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I Am Too Tired To Write A Good Poem
I AM TOO TIRED TO WRITE A GOOD POEM
I am too tired to write a good poem
I am too cold also
I have been out all day in the cold and the rain
I have been doing errands since early in the morning
I babysat for four hours in the afternoon
I went out again in the cold and rain to buy a few groceries
I tried to write and could not
I read and overate a few times
I tried to write
But I could not
I am very tired now
A poem should not be a simple clear description of one’s own mood at the moment
I am too tired to write a good poem
But I try to write
And this is the result
A poor poem indeed.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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On a Wet Day
As I walked thinking through a little grove,
Some girls that gathered flowers came passing me,
Saying -- "Look here! look there!" delightedly.
"O here it is!" "What's that?" "A lily? love!"
"And there are violets!"
"Farther for roses! O the lovely pets!
The darling beauties! O the nasty thorn!
Look here, my hand's all torn!"
"What's that that jumps?" "O don't! It's a grasshopper!"
"Come, run! come, run!
Here's bluebells!" "O what fun!"
"Not that way! Stop her!"
"Yes! this way!" Pluck them then!"
"O, I've found mushrooms! O look here!" "O, I'm
Quite sure that farther on we'll get wild thyme."
"O, we shall stay too long; it's going to rain;
There's lightning; O! there's thunder!"
"O shan't we hear the vesper bell? I wonder."
"Why, it's not nones, you silly little thing!
And don't you hear the nightingales that sing --
Fly away, O die away?"
"O, I hear something; hush!"
"Why, where? what is it then?" "Ah! in that bush."
So every girl here knocks it, shakes and shocks it:
Till with the stir they make
Out scurries a great snake.
"O Lord! O me! Alack! Ah me! Alack!"
They scream, and then all run and scream again,
And then in heavy drops comes down the rain.
Each running at the other in a fright,
Each trying to get before the other, and crying,
And flying, and stumbling, tumbling, wrong or right; --
One sets her knee
There where her foot should be;
One has her hands and dress
All smothered up with mud in a fine mess;
And one gets trampled on by two or three.
What's gathered is let fall
About the wood, and not picked up at all.
The wreaths of flowers are scattered on the ground,
And still as, screaming, hustling, without rest,
They run this way and that and round and round,
She thinks herself in luck who runs the best.
I stood quite still to have a perfect view,
And never noticed till I got wet through.
poem by Franco Sacchetti
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