Boredom is a finicky creature, never around when you need it, and always popping up when you want it the least.
quote by Lewis Ward

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Origins
The plaster continues to crumble
It's because of the light!
That blasted light!
I see the floors are sinking in
In the derelict of light.
I am a creature of comfort
Because of the light!
Oh, that blasted light!
Lavish me in the finest of things
Without the curse of the light.
The horror within is now revealed
Why, because of the light.
Oh, that blasted light!
And with the darkness, my beauty is healed.
Because of the light, oh the light.
Do you find I have cause to lie?
Yes, I do.
It's because of the light!
For all that my soul is suffering
And I am a creature of night.
I am a creature of comfort
I am a creature of fright
I'm a creature of sensual pleasure
I'm a creature with just one little bite.
I am a creature of legend
I am a creature of night
I'm a creature that stalks in the shadows
I'm a creature that hides from the light.
I am a creature unwanted
I am a creature with might
I'm a creature seduced by the hunger
I'm a creature of mischief and rife.
I am a creature so sadly
I am a creature, that's right
I'm a creature without soul
As low as it goes
I'm the creature to end your life
poem by Katherine Clark

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Origins
The plaster continues to crumble
It's because of the light!
That blasted light!
I see the floors are sinking in
In the derelict of light.
I am a creature of comfort
Because of the light!
Oh, that blasted light!
Lavish me in the finest of things
Without the curse of the light.
The horror within is now revealed
Why, because of the light.
Oh, that blasted light!
And with the darkness, my beauty is healed.
Because of the light, oh the light.
Do you find I have cause to lie?
Yes, I do.
It's because of the light!
For all that my soul is suffering
And I am a creature of night.
I am a creature of comfort
I am a creature of fright
I'm a creature of sensual pleasure
I'm a creature with just one little bite.
I am a creature of legend
I am a creature of night
I'm a creature that stalks in the shadows
I'm a creature that hides from the light.
I am a creature unwanted
I am a creature with might
I'm a creature seduced by the hunger
I'm a creature of mischief and rife.
I am a creature so sadly
I am a creature, that's right
I'm a creature without soul
As low as it goes
I'm the creature to end your life
poem by Maura Herboldsheimer

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Inept Man
An inept man is a man who really swears,
The horde of men who really swear carry flags;
This age is vast to deliver a thought of wishfulness,
May the ages of a finicky man be sworn to him,
So that years and more years appear on him.
This inefficient man or woman is ready,
Fulfilling demands and fretting, filling.
The worries of an era of disorder are against us,
But the finicky people have lately been against us,
Like the worries of a prior age that destroyed us.
This fussy man is a fussy man of strength,
Lulling the road ahead like a given way so strong,
This fussiness is ineffective and never alive.
poem by Naveed Akram

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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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A silente creature
The silent creature
populates the human
minds
A silent creature
is invisible but
reliable and fizzy
This creature is
silent because she
needs to be
understood, refined and
she wants a
lot of aids
A silent creature
is an explosion
of life
To be a
silent creature is
a fresh and
wonderful sensation
A silent creature
is an angelical
messenger
She is a
happy, ancient, colorful
and vital imagine
A silent creature
tells many different
and interesting stories
Sometimes the silent
creature deceives to
defeat the racism
A silent creature
is defenseless from
the not curious
A silent creature
is a desirable
but desperate and
suspicious person
A silent creature
can be an
alter ego
She is a
guide of dignity
and human values
poem by Laura arwen

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Early This Morning
before any coffee
i swear to myself
that i am the man with
a new story to tell
to throw away
all these cliches
and be what
i really am
there is no word yet
nothing is popping up
.................
so back to usual
i write something that
repeats itself
like an echo of
another boredom
form that same
mountainside
to wait for long
is crazy
i know
........
i will have my coffee now
and sip what i must accept
oh, there is nothing new
regret what you have just read.
i think you must go now
and this i must tell you:
write your own regret
do not read me again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Stopping Shopping
Aren’t we ever satisfied by shopping?
Just the thought of popping
Or, as some do, bopping
To the supermarket gets me hopping
Mad. Since my bag burst, popping,
When I was struggling, clopping
Home with the shopping
And distinctly dropping
And predictably plopping
Food on floors, with milk slopping
And smashed eggs dropping,
Making everywhere sopping
So it needed mopping
For, if I didn’t, they’d be stopping
There, where they’d be copping
Some unprintable whopping
Rude words that were popping
Out of my mouth. I’m lopping
Some out of this, not to offend topping,
Polite folk like you. And I’m chopping
And also quickly cropping
This poem short ’cos I’m flopping
With exhaustion. And I need propping
Up. So now I’m stopping -
Stupid shopping.
poem by C. Richard Miles

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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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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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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

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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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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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Bone's Patterns Popping Ribs
By Ombuge M moses
Bones an' ribs goes Popping
Popping by
Ribs form patterns, skeletons alike
Meat goes hiding,
dry and bony
Ribs patterns goes forming
Forming by
Energy goes weak
Weakens by
Sickness comes calling
Calling by
No food persisting
Persists by
Children goes unconscious
Dead dry
Death carry them weary
In coma dead asleep
Children wake up in spirits dry
Dead dry no food for termites
No energy in spirits dead
To convince termite why dry
Termites convene weak
No food for termite colony
Bones an' ribs goes on popping
In life death and spirit
Popping by
poem by Ombuge M Moses

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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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The Creature Crawling
The creature crawling don't know when he'll arrive
Don't know if creature is dead or alive
All of god's creatures have the will to survive
Did you know about that ?
Did you know about all that ?
The creature crawling
The creature crawling
The creature crawling and he's coming up the road
He's crawling over to your area code
Crawling through the grass of your little abode
Did you know about that ?
Did you know about that ?
Did you know about all that ?
Whatcha gonna say ?
Whatcha gonna do ?
What goes around it comes around
One fine day
Look around
There will be nothing but you
song performed by by Frank Black

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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What Creature Is This
What creature is this,
That decides to begin explicit conflicts?
Doing things the opposite...
And spreading contagious disease.
That feeds on hypocrisy,
With such amazing ease!
What creature is this,
Existing in our midst?
Allow to persist with displays of sickness!
Poisonous is the water...
And the air this 'thing' pollutes!
Unsatisfied with its reflection seen...
It destroys anything Mother Nature 'salutes'.
What creature is this,
That can not sit to fit in?
Why is it like a cancer spreading,
With no cure to stop its end!
What creature is this,
With a mind that defines?
And looking for a way,
To slay all goodness that it finds!
What creature is this...
Insisting to plant chaos remembered,
And not to be left behind!
What creature IS this?
Making attempts...
To discourage wishes of peace,
It declines!
What beast is this watched...
As it craves with venom seeking to unwind!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Since boredom advances and boredom is the root of all evil, no wonder, then, that the world goes backwards, that evil spreads. This can be traced back to the very beginning of the world. The gods were bored; therefore they created human beings.
quote by Soren Kierkegaard

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lyrically Maneuvered
Lyrically maneuvered.
That's the only way I move.
With content and something meant...
That puts me in a mood.
I'm lyrically maneuvered,
Grooving in a cool behooved.
There has to be a need in me..
To soothe my attitude.
And I don't need a finger popping rock,
To get me started.
And I don't need a cushioned beat...
To pat my feet!
And I don't need a finger popping rock,
To get me started.
And I don't need a cushioned beat...
To pat my feet to a meter.
Lyrically maneuvered.
That's the only way I move.
With content and something meant...
That puts me in a mood.
And...
I,
Don't need a finger popping rock...
To get me started,
No!
And I don't need a cushioned beat...
To pat my feet,
To keep up with a meter.
And...
I,
Don't need a finger popping rock...
To get me started,
No!
And I don't need a cushioned beat,
To pat my feet...
To keep up with a meter,
If the lyric keeps my heat up.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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