BOREDOM in retrospective shades
It mostly rained mid afternoon
Pressed against the window
Dark dreary
Feeling nothing
Listless sad damp saturdays
Curtained off from the day
And sunless
Full of football league results
And muttered conversations over steaming tea
Football saturdays full of rain and nothing
With winter pressing in like night
Midday and waiting
For the boredom to sink in!
The hot cat slinks in
Lazy in summer pose
Limbs stretched over half read papers
Leaving pawprints across the broad sheet in repose
Forgotten bodies lie abandoned on the lawn
Waiting for post mortem
All thoughts of tomorrow suspended
The ice cream thawing slowly the thermostat is blown
Who wants to know about the weather?
There in the graveyard for the idle
Birds have nested made their home
Boredom
Belongs to the masses
The dissatisfied 'writer'
Of romances
And pulp ficition
The lottery winner who has it all?
[and ponders nothing]
To the factory and office worker
The bodies moving between
Shifts of day and night
To the old and lonely
But never to the child?
The cat is curious
The dog indifferent
The mouse is sly
And boredom comes to us all
Don't ask me why?
So many catch the train
So many rush on buses
Complain in queues
Push for seats
disconnect the senses
To the ipod and the phone
Leave their thoughts
of love and life behind
But take their boredom home!
yvette m smith poet of uk
july 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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Related quotes
Boredom
Boredom is not something that comes easily to me
Infact I have to work at it
Wishing it to slink in like lazy cat on a hot day
I feel the heat
The sting and the sweat of working up to a 'symphony'
Of half baked plans
Frustrated 'goal's
Of dissillusionment
My attempt at boredom has failed
The weather never ceases to amuse me
So I tune in, instead of out
There's something great about [other peoples] the news
Don't ask me why? ,
I haven't got a clue!
yvette m smith july 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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War is Boredom
War is Boredom
War is Boredom
War can be defined as long periods of boredom, short burst of terror, seemingly lasting forever, To those who are there, Waiting for another outburst, which never seems to cease.
You Pray, you count all your blessings, the outgoing not what you fear, its the incoming that can't be trusted.
War can be defined as boredom, for those who's life was spared, as the days in between that matters, on those who life spent there.
2008
poem by Charles Garcia
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In Memory Of The Unknown Poet, Robert Boardman Vaughn
But the essential advantage for a poet is not, to have a beautiful world with which to deal: it is to be able to see beneath both beauty and ugliness; to see the boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
T. S. ELIOT
It was his story. It would always be his story.
It followed him; it overtook him finally—
The boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
Probably at the end he was not yet sorry,
Even as the boots were brutalizing him in the alley.
It was his story. It would always be his story,
Blown on a blue horn, full of sound and fury,
But signifying, O signifying magnificently
The boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
I picture the snow as falling without hurry
To cover the cobbles and the toppled ashcans completely.
It was his story. It would always be his story.
Lately he had wandered between St. Mark’s Place and the Bowery,
Already half a spirit, mumbling and muttering sadly.
O the boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
All done now. But I remember the fiery
Hypnotic eye and the raised voice blazing with poetry.
It was his story and would always be his story—
The boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
poem by Donald Justice
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Young Couples With Sagging Eyelids
'Beat boredom out with more boredom, '
She says, grinning—then vomits in her hands.
He wonders why, but never understands.
She thinks she's been living her life post-mortem.
She hates her coffin's fluffy decorum,
And wonders why he won't dig up her grave.
She says she deserves heaven, 'She behaves, '
But she's been buried in place where she stands.
He is uneasy, but doesn't complain.
He watches her decay in the marrow.
She has thinning blood, a festering brain,
But so does he. He doesn't notice though.
Like a dripping nose, they've become crusted;
They're so full of snot and maladjusted.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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The Long Afternoon Became Longer
THE LONG AFTERNOON BECAME LONGER
The long afternoon became longer-
Time had no end and boredom also-
We all know it will eventually pass
But in the middle we are marooned waiting
Without any idea whatsoever of what to do-
I write these lines because I know
Boredom too has its beauty-
And waiting for nothing also its dream-
And out of nowhere there may come
Long into the long afternoon
Far after all the work is done and nothing remains
While waiting is still going on
A small poem to break the monotony
And give meaning back to life.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Boredom Is Death's Luxury
BOREDOM IS DEATH'S LUXURY
Boredom is Death's Luxury,
The idle wasting of an idle life.
What Chance do we have to dream
When inside all is
Empty and Ended
Lost?
Oh we will begin again somehow, somewhere else.
But today now inside
Is only this Nowhereness
This Endless Stillness
This Nothingness.
Boredom is the Horror of Everyday Life
I feel this now so deeply
as I write this.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Waiting In Boredom
Waiting in boredom
for something to get done
is the greatest enemy
to a very active mind.
It is the curse that affects us all,
making us lose our patience
over the simplest tasks
we have to perform.
Waiting in boredom
eats away at our soul
making time drag
within everything we try to do.
It is the curse of humankind
of which there is no cure,
just to be patient
and wait to see it through.
2 July 2010
poem by David Harris
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Lonely:
Lonely,
So, so lonely,
I feel like that flower I seen today,
It was in a yard surrounded by nothing but weeds and grass, none of his flower friends were out with him swaying along with him in the breeze,
So he was swaying all alone in the breeze.
Lonely,
Lonely,
So, so lonely,
Along with the loneliness, comes along boredom,
To make me feel even worse,
Great!
Fabulous!
My boredom is growing old,
So, so old,
I am about to scream,
So as not to be board anymore,
Who is with me?
On this road of pure boredom?
poem by Sherry Painter
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Only the most acute and active animals are capable of boredom. - A theme for a great poet would be God's boredom on the seventh day of creation.
quote by Lewis Cass
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stardom or Boredom! A LONELY RED BIRD Flies in My Natural Kingdom!
I am eight and twenty, a lonely rose – no one close to sit with;
Here are no companions nor kin and kith, I live in lonely myth!
Sitting in the empty hall by myself at the day dawn in the white;
I feel awful – awful beyond all – crying gently dusk in the night.
Stardom or boredom! A lonely red bird flies in my natural kingdom!
Harum-scarum! Humdrum! A solo bird beats the lonely drum!
Aloof I am, sitting in the dark; aloof I am, with my lonely bark;
Aloof I am, butterflies helter-skelter in me at lonely gaze!
Aloof I am, there is a void; there is a vacuum in my lonely daze;
Aloof I am sitting with empty ache; aloof I am – a lonely lark.
Stardom or boredom! A lonely red bird flies in my natural kingdom!
Harum-scarum! Humdrum! A solo bird beats the lonely drum!
Aloof I am, these many shocks, lonely talks only for me, tell me why?
Aloof I am, I beg thee – don’t enter my only soul everyday, I say....
Aloof I am, I don’t want to be aloof in anyway – even on holiday;
Aloof I am, I say thee – I don't want to live, I want to die for lonely sigh!
Stardom or boredom! A lonely red bird flies in my natural kingdom!
Harum-scarum! Humdrum! A solo bird beats the lonely drum!
Aloof I am – a sole flower in a field; a sole child does not shield;
Aloof I am – a moonless night, stormy weather sets the tone…….
Aloof I am in turbulent weather, me a solo feather in deserted scene;
Aloof I am, in lonely battle, with a fresh cut I gave up! I yield!
Stardom or boredom! A lonely red bird flies in my natural kingdom!
Harum-scarum! Humdrum! A solo bird beats the lonely drum!
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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The life of the creative man is lead, directed and controlled by boredom. Avoiding boredom is one of our most important purposes.
quote by Susan Sontag
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Drag
conversations at night
when you cannot sleep
arrive at a drag, not like
the one we had nights and
nights before
when we still do not know
much about each other
our bodies and
pasts, our way of projecting
ourselves to a certain future,
we begin to search for
the meaning of a present
and i realize
there is nothing much to
meaning, just a drag, to let
the hours pass, without killing us
neither tickling us,
boredom works full time
and we do not ask when will
this last. we are the experienced
class, the category that asks no
more, because we think we know
for sure, we think we already know
what we do not.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your true traveller finds boredom rather agreeable than painful. It is the symbol of his liberty - his excessive freedom. He accepts his boredom, when it comes, not merely philosophically, but almost with pleasure.
quote by Aldous Huxley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grey Skies In July
We are now well in to the month of July,
But above my head, there's a leaden sky.
For days on end, it has constantly rained,
And I must say that it's a right old pain.
Every time that I step out of my door,
The Heavens open and it begins to pour.
This awful weather is getting me down:
My once sunny smile has turned to a frown.
When it rains, it rains nearly all the day long;
For the middle of summer, it feels so wrong.
In July, we should be getting long days of sun,
But, so far, this month, we've had hardly none.
I hate these days which are dreary and dull;
With this wet weather, there is hardly a lull.
It was on the radio, that I heard one morning,
Half of Britain had severe weather warnings.
Around the sodden streets, everyone rushes.
Packed to full capacity, are our local buses.
I dare not leave home without my coat.
Very soon, I'll be needing to buy a boat!
Like many others, I don't mind confessing,
That I find this weather pretty depressing.
I want this weather to be over and done:
Rain every single day, is certainly no fun.
They say that sunny weather is on its way,
And I'm really looking forward to that day.
Let us all hope that, for the rest of July,
We'll see some sun and bright blue skies.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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I'm very lonely,
Im very lonely,
So lonely I'm I,
So lonely,
That I thought of metaphysic's,
So lonely that I thought, I sit boredom,
Is metaphysics a sense of boredom,
So lonely like the moon,
Is it because other's are hell, ?
So lonely like the sun,
Is it because of no man to trust, ?
Very lonely,
So lonely,
That I can only trust the earthly volition,
So lonely,
That these people Increased my afflctions and agony,
So lonely that I think of the official thought's,
Is time so Official that it gave us another chance to survive.?
Egoism and vicissitude's,
Don't take me there,
Take me here,
No where are we going, ?
Do we human's really know where we be going, ?
Or are we just guessing and living it up.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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Saturdays Child
By david gates
Monday had a sad child
Always feeling low down,
Tuesday had a dream child
Shes always on the go
Now Im in love with saturdays child
She drives me wild
Gonna spend my time
Makin sure that saturdays child is mine.
If you love a wednesday
Youll live your life apart now
And if you love a thursday
Shes gonna break your heart,
So Im in love with saturdays child
She drives me wild
Gonna spend my time
Makin sure that saturdays child is mine.
Seven days of the week made to choose from
But only one is right for me
I know that saturdays got what it takes, babe.
I can tell by the way she looks at me
Friday likes the good life
Shell take you for a ride now
And sunday makes a good wife
But she wants to be a bride
So Im in love with saturdays child
She drives me wild
Gonna spend my time
Makin sure that saturdays child is mine.
[repeat 8 bars 3 times then fade out]
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am A Cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche you've seen before
I am a cliche that lives next door
I am a cliche you know what I mean
I am a cliche pink is obscene
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am A Cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche you've seen before
I am a cliche that lives next door
I am a cliche you know what I mean
I am a cliche pink is obscene
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Day
Dont get me wrong
I think Im in love
But the feeling in the word is more
Than your crystal eyes will ever see in me
Dont get me wrong
Open your eyes
Although I cannot show my heart
Ill watch and hope while you are near to me
One day Ill capture you
And call you to my side
One day Ill take you from
The boredom of our lives
One day well fly away
To the kingdom of my dreams
One day Ill find myself
And wrap it in my love for you
Birds of the sky, may I borrow your wings?
Very soon Ill ask my love
To travel with me to the world outside
Cherry trees, may I borrow your bloom?
Very soon Ill ask my love
To come inside the nest Ill build alone
One day Ill capture you
And call you to my side
One day Ill take you from
The boredom of our lives
One day well fly away
To the kingdom of my dreams
One day Ill find myself
And wrap it in my love for you
Animal friends
Help me decide
When should I ask my love to leave?
Ill beg of you that shell say yes to me
Breathe in deep
Now is the time
She looks at me and gently smiles
As if she knew Id ask her all the time
One day Ill capture you
And call you to my side
One day Ill take you from
The boredom of our lives
One day well fly away
To the kingdom of my dreams
One day Ill find myself
And wrap it in my love for you
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Facing The Sun, Late Afternoon
driving back home
at the white bridge
the light of the sun
that later afternoon
blinds me, like
what i feel today
i close my eyes
see shadows
let them all inside
my heart,
i open my eyes
half asleep
letting all the shadows
simmer like
i am a dry earth
receiving a little rain,
thoughts run like water
boredom is the dryness
the ennui
fleeting memories
haunt like thoughts
coming back at me
with swords and scales.
'what am i doing here? '
i stop the car, get out from there
and stand on the side of the
white bridge.
'i am doing nothing'.
the water below is silent.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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