
Poems:
- A Day Full Of Anxiety
- A Letter To Anxiety
- Another Trigger
- Anxiety
- Anxiety
- Anxiety
- Anxiety
- Anxiety
- Anxiety
- Anxiety
- Anxiety
- Anxiety
- Anxiety
- Anxiety
- Anxiety
- Anxiety A Portrait
- Anxiety Attack
- Anxiety Bread
- Anxiety Of The Body
- Anxiety Of Young Love
- Bottles Of Anxiety
- Cause Of Anxiety
- Dad
- Guilt & Anxiety
- High Anxiety
- Little Exercise
- Moth Anxiety
- Music Of Wakefulness
- Mysterious Pain
- Sexy Anxiety
- Social Anxiety
- Social Anxiety
- Social Anxiety
- Speech: “To be, or not to be, that is the question”
- Test Anxiety
- The Effects Of Anxiety
- The Fire
- The Price is Right: A Torture Wheel of Fortune
- The Problem of Anxiety
- The Second Coming
- Where Am I?
A Day Full Of Anxiety
A day full of anxiety,
my thoughts meandering around,
like a kite rafting in the sky.
A puff of wind in my mind inside,
as if there’s no one to guide.
My emotions dumbfounded,
I love not, nor hate,
I weep, I cry, unaware of what is getting by,
I am all isolated, no friends beside.
My feelings rushes and crushes,
tears from my eyes they stream,
as if I am accused,
and my sentiments about to blow.
I know not this feeling,
nor am I hurt by any,
a day full of anxiety,
has left me depreciated by thoughts many.
By Priyanka Bhowmick
***
A Letter To Anxiety
A feeling beyond words
Ruled only by our minds
No logic or importance
Though inside it feels defined.
Trust your intuition
Has always been my rule
Though anxiety can trick,
Any living fool.
Listen it says, believe
Trust nothing but your gut
Do doubt your hesitation
It’s trying to drive you nuts
I know I say, but really?
Logic defies your words
You tell me I should worry
My heart says you’re a curse.
You infiltrate and rot me
You bring chaos to my world
My friends they start to doubt
The truth behind my words.
I hear you and I trust,
Your intentions are all heart
Though your over zealous prison
Is tearing me apart.
Don’t cry for me I say,
I love you for your concern
But I am ok, please trust
Sometimes we need to learn.
Life is tough and undecided
Danger lies in ever step
But please trust that I can navigate
To avoid untimely death.
I love you and I hear you
You care for no one but myself.
But rest assured I know enough
To do this by myself.
By Alison Eeles
***
Another Trigger
A storm is coming, my chest is tightening and it’s hard to breathe.
Like a giant noose, life is smothering me.
I would do anything to not feel this pain.
Make it stop, I want to laugh again.
The thought of being scared is so frightening.
Another trigger, it’s happening again; is everyone watching?
Everything matters, nothing matters, my life will be ruined again.
Paralyzed, afraid to move, the walls are closing in.
Everyone has disappeared, they think I don’t care.
Truth is I don’t want to be alone; I am so scared.
Please be patient, I know I can be withdrawn.
I need all of you more than ever; I’m not really gone.
Grab my hand, I can feel the ground; please don’t let go.
Having you with me helps more than you will ever know.
Let me talk, let me be silent, listen either way.
Thank you for understanding; I think I can make it another day
By Jim D. Prime
***
Anxiety
Chest tightens,
Gets hard to breathe.
My only escape
Is when I drug myself to sleep.
Constantly I wear a mask.
Constantly feeling afraid,
Worrying if the monster will attack me today.
But sometimes I’m at peace
With myself and everyone around,
Or maybe
It’s just another pretense
And I wear the mask all over again.
By Jade .S. Aka Shane
***
Anxiety
Anxiety,
I’m miserable because of you,
making plans and not following through.
You have me feeling as though I am alone.
I don’t feel safe unless I’m at home.
I see a stranger on the street,
want to say hi but too scared to speak.
What are they staring at?
Something must be wrong…
Is there a stain on my shirt?
Is my nose too long?
I’m shaking, find an exit, I must retreat!
Here they come! Here they come!
Quick, I must flee!
People keep telling me that I am fine
but I am not,
not in my mind.
A lump in my throat makes it so hard to swallow.
Pains in my chest consume me with sorrow.
I lay awake, restless, hoping maybe,
just maybe this will all be gone
tomorrow.
By Kristal McDolgle
***
Anxiety
The hoar-frost crumbles in the sun,
The crisping steam of a train
Melts in the air, while two black birds
Sweep past the window again.
Along the vacant road, a red
Bicycle approaches; I wait
In a thaw of anxiety, for the boy
To leap down at our gate.
He has passed us by; but is it
Relief that starts in my breast?
Or a deeper bruise of knowing that still
She has no rest.
By David Herbert Lawrence
***
Anxiety
Standing still, feet planted
Body frozen, mind racing
Fear takes over
Like another entity
That controls all
It pleasures in knowing
No advancement has taken place
Nothing has been overcome just stillness
It delights in knowing
How much power it has
Over that insecure body
Manipulation will be easy
Soon anxiety sets in
Causing the body to tremble
The more intense the trembling becomes
The more the certainty declines
As the body gets sucked down
The path of anxiety
Fear becomes overjoyed
Its job is done
That little seedling it planted
Developed and blossomed
And is taking over
The body
As the body realizes the fear
Needs to be expelled
The body doesn’t know how to
Get rid of it
So the insecure body
Succubus to the fear inside
Fear is overjoyed it did little
The body did the rest
By Kaitlin Schmidt
***
Anxiety
The beginning of this story,
starts with an overwhelming worry.
The constant feeling of something wrong
gnaws and eats away at my insides, strong.
It makes my stomach feel sick,
and my poor heart almost skip a t tick.
My body runs hot but somehow I’m cold,
it’s making me ache like I am old.
The Thud-up of my heart is off beat,
making me uncomfortable in my seat.
My eyes are teary, and my head falls heavy,
then comes the blackouts which are always scary.
This feeling last for hours,
draining me of all my powers.
This happens any and everywhere,
and most seem to be unaware.
I have to get up and leave,
so my heart can be relieved.
my tears leave trails, as my body shudders,
which then triggers an embarrassing stutter.
I want to live anxiety free.
I just want to be the old me.
By Crystal Pierce
***
Anxiety
Denial, will only increase your anxiety,
while honesty, could bring peace of
mind! This to me, is the best policy,
one can find. It pays to be honest, as
the more you’re in denial, the worse
off, you’re going to be. You get in
deeper and deeper and you don’t
want to lose, your sanity! Dealing
with anxiety, is not pleasant and
could cause, a lot of distress. If you
don’t bring it into the open, it then
becomes, a great big mess! To have
peace of mind, is truly a blessing! It’s,
what all of us need, to pave the way.
So, when you’re honest and have
nothing to hide, you’ll be able to keep,
your anxiety, at bay!
By Audrey Heller
***
Anxiety
She was alone in a crowded room
with no room to breathe,
compelled to leave
with a sense of impending doom.
She makes her excuses and rushes to the exit
as the blood gushes to her head,
My goodness I must be bright red she thought,
fraught she hurried home,
alone, safe at last, aghast at yet another anxiety attack.
She flopped onto her bed and sobbed,
robbed of a social life, robbed of fun
she did not feel safe around anyone.
It was morning when she awoke,
she spoke to the cat, her only friend.
He was her one and only constant in a troubled world,
she curled upon her sofa and fiddles with her hair,
relaxing at last now the panic has passed!
By Rose Garden
***
Anxiety
In the middle of this concrete and re-bar jungle teeming with death and life,
I think of you, Cadereyta. This maddening jungle is shocking, choking,
I think of you Cadereyta, I seek escape.
I come to you in dreams of flight, running away from the other side,
From its jungle of concrete and rebar, I come to you,
And you take me to the other side before time,
You give me your ethereal architecture, gossamer delight.
Floating on a jungle with death and life,
I walk through your streets with my most recent friends,
They are all from this side, from this time.
Do you remember my time in your time?
Such expanse in your space, did it mean anything?
The answer to that I know. The question is better served unasked.
Your time in my time is monumental, encompassing
By Juan Alvarado
***
Anxiety
This feeling that is trapped in me
I cannot seem to catch
It’s always there and mocking me
My emotions rose to match
It stings, it stabs, it lingers on
Often fades but then floods back
It forces me to lose control
Pushing me off track
I wish that I could get a grip
But it slips just out of reach
When I think that it is gone
I feel it buckling my knees
With its silent hand around my neck
It squeezes out my breath
With terrible force it wrings at me
With a fight I’ve never met
With every ounce I struggle on
But it stops each move I make
The anxiety it takes control
And my spirit it does break
By Haley Akin
***
Anxiety
The smile from anxiety
that rumbled your ability
the fear of man
away he ran
the challenges in place
and the needed grace
all the impediment
leads to establishment
going like a gladiator
in contest with alligator
now a commando
who is ready to grow
negate nefarious thought
and purity is all you got
when you frowned to anxiety
hope and faith to your ability
that is the grace
and you ready to face
the forces of distruction
you have all the instruction.
By Samuel Francis Leumas
***
Anxiety
Anxiety sucks.
One minute, I’m fine,
But the next,
I can’t breathe.
My hands shake
And my heart races.
And it feels like everything is
Happening too fast around me.
My head spins
And death feels
Both Imminent
And too far off.
And it sucks
Because I feel like
I can’t tell anyone
About it.
By Hannah Diane Williams
***
Anxiety
Anxiety slowly lingers all around
Blue-grey thoughts rush here
Worries come again and again
How to know?
What to think?
So it is, feeling down
The day is long then gets longer
Born in hope then lived in despair
Because, simply it is so
Worrying is this or even a bit more
Business often prevents us to drown
Yet, we are edging the breakdown
Anxiety again or just lightly more. Here
By Marilyn Jean
***
Anxiety A Portrait
Smiling sharks beneath the sea,
Never ever worried me.
Now I’m afraid of all I see…
Surrounded by anxiety
I try to breathe
breathe out..breathein.
Relax and let the peace begin,
but what I get no one can see…
I’m drowning in anxiety
My chest goes up, but lungs have ceased,
and air can never be released.
The hands of fear all claw at me….
I’m ruled by my anxiety
By Lodigiana Poetess
***
Anxiety Attack
slowly beating
gasping for air
you’ve blown me away
and you’re not even there
my heart races
then slows down
as i hear each footstep
thudding on the ground
i know it’s coming
i can feel you at the door
and i want to scream
say, ‘please, no more’
but yours they degrade me
as if i were not seven
and i keep begging to God
‘please Lord, take me away to heaven.’
By Lorena Walker
***
Anxiety Bread
Trying to go out shopping.
Having issues with my head
Trembling thighs
Screaming eyes
But I need that loaf of bread.
The shop I nearly reached
Ten feet and i was there
But I Had to run
From the paranoid gun
Avoiding a pretentious stare
Fighting the battered relic
It badly wants to win
Countless tries
Frustrated cries
I want to kick it in
Back in familiar chaos
Stomach in a manic dance
Hunger screams
In demented dreams
Desperate for a chance
Embracing my wounds with Prozac
Concealing a bone or two
A clearer head
Still no bread
Therapy must be due
By Peter Bain
***
Anxiety Of The Body
The life, in the beginning travel along road.
The body and mind moves to the wider
Direction, anywhere, everything goes.
The strength continues to the sense of action.
The body got tired, the mind thrown into confusion
To any point of direction.
The mind speaks and the body moves.
The muscles continue trembling because of fatigue.
The body feeling restless need focus of attention
The mind needs relaxation,
Something similar to meditation.
The spirit goes along way with body and mind to rest.
The main part that needs treatment and healing
With focus of attention.
By Jocelyn Sumido Dunbar
***
Anxiety Of Young Love
With the birds chirping ever so softly in that afternoon sunshine
And the streets buzzing with cars going zoom zoom
The crescendo hit peak and went dead silent
When you suddenly appeared
I could hear the crackling of the spring leaves
As you marched forward from a distance
Your every step, I counted
13 in all
‘Hello’, you said
Then followed the gaze
You held it long enough to plant seeds of you in my heart
I was transfixed, speechless and filled with joy
Your lips went up and down
I heard nothing
Voice so sensual and soft like velvet the attraction was chilling
Presence, so magical, it kept my heart going like respirators
I wanted more of you
You pleasured my reason
And tickled my fancy with your dazzling swag
How could I resist
You had me
That night your thoughts blossomed in my heart like flowers do in the spring
Went to bed with just one thought
I want to see you again and again
By David Beckham
***
Bottles Of Anxiety
Genies in Arabian Nights serve our curiosities,
and the monsters we read about in school-
books of fairytales, too. But we aren’t kids
to who grown-ups still will be kidding, not
even the ones we were, always scared of ghouls,
yet eager to listen to them from Grannies –
sweethearts sweeter than mums. This world
replaces them well in our hearts – corked
bottles not of Scotch but of anxieties.
If uncorked for a moment, they do things
more dangerous than bloodletting. Now
in charge of the world’s store of tricks, follies
and what it stands for, we end up adding
something to it. The chat, for instance, you do
with your ex-lover in the name of friendship;
it sets my heart cataloguing fears on a page.
Lies in love often turn out to be Cyclops
cooking dishes of us for dinner. But remember
we embraced our Grannies tight on scary nights,
in afternoons went for beetles, dragonflies,
and their memories made us forget mums’
rebukes for not being attentive to our studies.
Now the grown-ups we are – forced to think
of dashes, commas, colons, stops and other signs
as pauses more than necessary in our love;
of our breathing as what gets shorter each time
we make bouquets of lies, yawning. There are
fireflies we can still dream of, and let’s not
uncork all the bottles we have of insecurities
and let’s cuddle, skin to skin, till breathes end.
By Sofiul Azam
***
Cause Of Anxiety
Determined to cause anxiety, a fellow of the wind
Comes home in order to promise us whatever we want.
Forming issues of blindness, he is a man of repute
Now never that, now the opposing one, the ready.
I see him in my pair of eyes, in my distressing cries
As a little laughing man, so oblivious of my call.
The surrender I impose is a proposition
Opening before all in my way, the way of the dragon.
This drama thrilled me as a baffling subject of mine,
The offering or sacrifice remains still in my habits;
The art I endeavour reaches out to explode
And then shatter into even more pieces, such is art.
By Naveed Akram
***
Dad
I know you may not think so,
But I’m trying really hard.
I don’t do it on purpose.
I did not pick this card.
I’m trying my very best
To get this hurtle jumped,
But no one else is there
To help me out of this slump.
I don’t know what you want from me.
Give me a hint or clue.
Please give me a sign.
I don’t know what to do.
If you only knew
How much I struggle in this war,
Maybe you would be there
To pick me up off the floor.
It’s time to stop pretending,
Time to open up your eyes,
To give me a hand
Instead of looks and sighs.
It’s not that I don’t love you,
And it’s not that I don’t care.
The fact is I need help too;
I need somebody there.
By Sami Chester
***
Guilt & Anxiety
The Lord delights in nourishing our needs
His promises defend our hopes and fears.
When we’re lost and alone and beg for answers
It’s Jesus we trust as our Savior in tears.
Man’s methods of dealing with guilt and anxiety
Only distract their wickedness, sorrow and distress.
When we heed God’s call and live by His will
We inspire others to heal, love, confess and bless.
Listen to the words of God’s wisdom of choice
That elevate our mind and heart within.
When we obey His teachings to overcome wrong
We’re more honorable, faithful and mindful of sin.
By Tom Zart
***
High Anxiety
Thank goodness, the yellow ball is hanging from the rope
If it weren’t there, well I really don’t think I could cope
Oh no, it’s now the red ball swinging in the breeze
My hands tense up, I start to sweat, my whole body’s in a freeze
Oh what relief, I can see now the yellow ball shining like the sun
At least for now, just for a short while, I can really have some fun
But just as I thought, the red ball has come and displaced my yellow friend
My anxiety returns, my calm has now come to an abrupt end
All those emotions sparked by coloured balls of complete irrelevance
The relief, the anxiety, the calmness, and then so tense
Just like a smoker whose emotions constantly whirl and spin
Around irrelevant, useless sticks that hang above their chin
By Alessandra Liverani
***
Little Exercise
Think of the storm roaming the sky uneasily
like a dog looking for a place to sleep in,
listen to it growling.
Think how they must look now, the mangrove keys
lying out there unresponsive to the lightning
in dark, coarse-fibred families,
where occasionally a heron may undo his head,
shake up his feathers, make an uncertain comment
when the surrounding water shines.
Think of the boulevard and the little palm trees
all stuck in rows, suddenly revealed
as fistfuls of limp fish-skeletons.
It is raining there. The boulevard
and its broken sidewalks with weeds in every crack
are relieved to be wet, the sea to be freshened.
Now the storm goes away again in a series
of small, badly lit battle-scenes,
each in “Another part of the field.”
Think of someone sleeping in the bottom of a row-boat
tied to a mangrove root or the pile of a bridge;
think of him as uninjured, barely disturbed.
By ELIZABETH BISHOP
***
Moth Anxiety
One result of Evolution
is that two small moths and I
are in this room now. They
live on my wall, gray flecks
on pale paint. Maybe they
move when I sleep. When I’m
awake, they’re still.
I’ve seen moth-holes in sweaters
but never caught moths eating.
Why don’t moths live amongst sheep
and cut out the middle step of knitting?
Is there such a thing as a moth-idea?
Do those new to English wonder
about “moth” and “mother”?
What’s the name of the enzyme
allowing moths to digest wool?
My wardrobe-door is open.
The moths remain,
composed, upon my wall.
By Hans Ostrom
***
Music Of Wakefulness
It is in the dark of night
When insomnia sings me awake
To the tune of lullabies
And the rhythm of mindful blight.
It is the spotlight of the watchful moon
And the flickering of uncertain stars
That cradle my fears
And anxious thoughts they croon.
It is in the view of the sunshine,
Where my unwanted thoughts stem,
Waiting and ripening in my head
Until around my throat they twine.
And echoing in my mind
Is the blissful song of insomnia,
Sewing itself into my skin
As daylight leaves me behind.
By Caitlin L. Stafford
***
Mysterious Pain
With her head hung low
and nowhere to go,
she can’t explain
this mysterious pain.
It comes on so fast.
How long will it last?
Her heart is just pounding; her head starts to spin.
Please go away; she does not want you in.
She’s uncontrollably crying.
It feels like she’s dying.
Her body is trembling; her hands start to shake.
She feels so helpless with this horrible ache.
Someone, please help her; make this go away.
She can’t stand to feel this way one more day.
Someone, please help her; she’s down on her knees.
She’s scared and helpless and hopes no one sees.
With her head hung low,
not knowing where to go,
she tries to explain
this mysterious pain.
By Peggy Stewart
***
Sexy Anxiety
I’m hot look at me
I’ve got anxiety
I’m skinny cuz I don’t eat
Don’t laugh that’s not funny
Check, check, checking me out
Standing out of the crowd
Drowning in my own Doubt
What does it feel like to be proud
I’m in control of me
And my choices apparently
Missed two meals I’ll just have tea
Shh don’t tell anybody
Broken Hearts are tuff to fix
Losers, hustlers, and Pricks
Cupid get lost with your tricks
stab yourself with your own stick
Lightheaded me
Hiding up in this tree
My body I cannot feed
Unspoken words that I speak
Falling to the ground
Is this peace that I found
When will love come around
When will I be safe and sound
My scars are apart of me
My hurt is what you don’t see
Unaccountable me
My sexy Anxiety
By Jay Bunny
***
Social Anxiety
When I need words most
The seem to drift away
My brain as their host
Doesn’t know the right words to say
A panic sets in me
And everything becomes overwhelming
My self-esteem starts to drop
It feels as if my head might pop
It’s scary unexpected
It like I’m infected
I feel as if I’m always being tested
I feel like I’m always being rejected
Why can’t I talk
Why can’t I make that scared feeling stop
I barely ever leave home
I’m starting to wonder if I’ll spend all my life alone
When will this end
When will I start being okay again
By Jessica Stubbs
***
Social Anxiety
Thanksgiving Day… time to eat
Through the door will come many feet
But no… my disorder will defeat me well
And here comes another story to tell
People are talking to me
No! Please leave me be!
I go to the bathroom for comfort
But the knocking on the door causes more anxiety to insert
Not just here, but also in the town
They like me, trying to give me a crown
I can’t look at their faces
The old, the young, that kid with the braces
I want to be normal and sane
But so far there has been none to gain
I want to live alone with my imagination
Away from all earthly sensation
By Dillon Gay
***
Social Anxiety
I’m not hungry, I’m hurting,
This isn’t nonsense I’m spurting,
Eye contact is averting,
My body is reverting back,
Into my organic shell,
When they begin to scream and yell,
I must’ve went off and fell,
Down the deep hole that leads to hell,
Where demons tend to dwell and,
All of the events smell fishy,
You’re either high or tipsy,
You go from itchy to dizzy,
Couldn’t see you were tricky,
The atmosphere is Misty or,
I just won’t open my eyes,
If I do then I’ll see some guys,
That stab me and hear my cries,
Then I wake as my ego dies,
I can see through your lies now,
Now my vision is all clear up,
Please stop, just slow down, hold up,
There’s no need for you to speed up,
At this pace you will blow up,
You’re too far ahead, back up, stop,
My girl don’t dance to my bop,
But she is one I cannot drop,
Although my love is nonstop,
I can’t direct it to a spot,
Love is the root of my depression,
Creates joy as well as aggression,
Mainly sadness because suppression,
Of having a physical session,
Definitely to my discretion,
Obviously there’s no possession,
I need love to be my expression,
If my body is the impression,
Then all my heart is in secession,
This will be my final confession,
Though might be beyond comprehension.
By Sketcher Ridpath
***
Speech: “To be, or not to be, that is the question”
To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to: ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there’s the rub:
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause—there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th’oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of dispriz’d love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th’unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovere’d country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action.
By WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
***
Test Anxiety
My heart begins to race
As a sheet passes before my face
Anger begins to grow
The fear of faliure begins to show
The anger forces tears
I finally know the deepest of my fears
I can’t handle it
I just wasn’t cut out for this
I try my best as my anxieties show
I let the words on the paper flow
The test is finished the best I can
I turn it in
The fear is gone
By Amber Kangas
***
The Effects Of Anxiety
Everything,
Caving in,
Spinning all around me,
Trying not to think about
What will freak me out
Feeling so unsafe and insecure,
Knowing that there isn’t a cure
Only my mind’s
Ability to trick itself,
I get so scared,
Especially when I begin to doubt
It’s not fair
That I have to feel this way,
I wish that I could just make it go away
To no longer panic,
To no longer fear,
Illusions that my mind creates
Seems inevitable when I’m here
I train myself to cope
With my worst fright,
Can’t someone please
Make things alright?
By Jessica Goudreault
***
The Fire
The fire that rages
from within my rib cage is
weakening the bones
that should make me strong.
The feeling creeps for every dark place.
It fills up my head; it’s invading my space.
It’s melting me from inside; I think I’m burning up.
I can’t breathe or move or talk. I’m hopelessly stuck.
As people pass by, they give no second glance.
I cry out for help; this is my chance.
The fire claws at my throat; it’s burning my tongue.
I think it’s too late for help; the damage is done.
I down some water, which brings calmness and peace.
The fire has settled for a minute, at least.
Eventually it’s burning as hot as before.
The fire rages back up from my very core.
The fire inside is one you can’t see.
The fire inside, it’s my anxiety.
By Sarah Gray
***
The Price is Right: A Torture Wheel of Fortune
The show did not start off
auspiciously, the contestants
were nervous and kept fiddling
with the wires attached
to their privates, the men
being especially anxious
over the question of balls.
The women were more querulous.
The first question, a medical subject,
was why had the anti-abortionists
not mentioned, let alone commented on,
the Baboon Heart transplant?
One terrified contestant guessed
it was because the moral majority’s
nervous concern with evolution
precluded their bringing it up.
That hopeful contestant’s face
reflected the malicious light
in the eyes of the host who
immediately threw the switch
A powerful surge shot through
the wires and both sexes screamed
and writhed, to the delight of
the vast viewership, estimated
at 100 million, all of whom,
presumably, were delighted
not to be on the show,
because not one in a million
knew the answer.
By EDWARD DORN
***
The Problem of Anxiety
Fifty years have passed
since I started living in those dark towns
I was telling you about.
Well, not much has changed. I still can’t figure out
how to get from the post office to the swings in the park.
Apple trees blossom in the cold, not from conviction,
and my hair is the color of dandelion fluff.
Suppose this poem were about you – would you
put in the things I’ve carefully left out:
descriptions of pain, and sex, and how shiftily
people behave toward each other? Naw, that’s
all in some book it seems. For you
I’ve saved the descriptions of chicken sandwiches,
and the glass eye that stares at me in amazement
from the bronze mantel, and will never be appeased.
By John Ashbery
***
The Second Coming
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
By WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS
***
Where Am I?
Is there anyone there
to help me see,
help me remember,
remember to be me?
For I feel like now
I am someone else,
and I need some help
to find myself.
Sometimes my thoughts
might drift away
with the empty look
I may portray.
You think I’m doing nothing,
but I’m doing my best
to put my busy mind
to rest.
Always so tired
trying to find the strength
and keeping my loved ones
at arm’s-length.
Never wanting
my family to see
that a once happy woman
has turned into me.
By Christine G. McCloskey