boredom
Learn more about other poetry terms
addled and broken
a heart still outspoken
another hazy day
someone, break down the curtain!
playing out a part,
like a puppet on a string
a bird without its legs
must rely on its wings
Tu te couches Manouche
Comme une mouche
Sans prendre ta douche
Très loin de moi
Où tu ressembles à une croix
Boredom is an interesting concept
We are both at the peak for creativity and at for inactivity
We have nothing (of interest) to do
Yet it is at this time, there is everything to do
Words rattle inside my head, and remain unsaid. Why can't I seem to get them out? It's as though my brain is having a drought. I sit and ponder as what to say. Such silence from my inner muse, brings such dismay.
Time drags on
Hours feel like days
I know I need this class
For my major
For my future
To stay in Hong Kong
But it’s so boring
Digger sleeps in comfy chair.
Mom is still at work.
Street light shines through the window.
I love you
Yes, I love you immensely but
the inevitable
is inevitable
Everyone gets bored.
People like you and me,
get bored so easily.
The most exciting people to me
Here's a poem-
Short and sweet.
I want a soda.
Do you agree?
Which one shall it be?
Coke... or Pepsi?
Boredom slowly creeps upon me,
Like a fog on top a hill.
My eyes start glazing over,
My brain is standing still.
I’m trying to take notice,
Education
Boredom slowly creeps upon me,
Like a fog on top a hill.
My eyes start glazing over,
I should be doing my work
I have an essay due in 12 minutes
Yet I’m writing this
A poem I guess?
I don’t really know
Just staring at the crack on the ceiling
Not knowing what to write
Two years stuck in the same chair,
On the same computer,
On the same website.
Two years speaking to the same people,
To the sane adults,
To my insane self.
Two years of homeschooling,
King Arthur
I use to imagine being a warrior
whose being was entirely engulfed.
With a silver knights’ suit like King Arthur,
I've realized it's really hard to write without having someone in your mindbecause, in your thoughts, they spend most of their time.
Problems
Modern questions
Things for solving
Some quandaries for unwinding
Queries
Puzzles
Of everything
A cat, still very wild, thirsts in a desert.
An island in a sea of sand,
an ethereal woman, too kind,
a thirst is quenched,
and past lives remembered.
The cat perches on a lap,
content for a decade.
I hate being bored,
It’s just so boring.
Do you know what I mean?
Doubt it,
Let me show you.
You’re sick of games,
Bloody Red, Forbidding Black
Lying on the white
The King, he frowns
The Queen, she cries
The Ace and Jack are grim
Hostile Frozen Faces glare
They take, they grab, they multiply
my eyes stretch the horizon...
the cigarette burns quicker as I drag the smoke deeper in my lungs
I ponder the events of this week
my wanderings, where are you?
When you're bored,
You intentionally decide that everything's a chore
You whore out your vitality to inanity, eventually causing insanity
Your vanity? Give up- it vanished into apathy
That's a clock.
Of course and it always is
a clock
and neither those plain numbers nor these gravels care
about a crash or a bag filled with sweaters,
scarves, a novel,
cards.
Same alarm clock every morning.
Same old bed in the same house.
Same old church around the corner.
Same old games of cat and mouse.
Chemical reactions determine how I shape my words on this page.
Internal flickers and quarks determine how many times I blink while processing my thoughts.
Boredom is friction.
If I could change anything...
I would change people's motivation.
Boredom cannot magically disappear.
But magic motivation makes boredom melt.
I sit and I stare
intense sunlight fires through the slits of my squinted lids
Like blinds I shutter out the most of it,
and trickling down are little specks of dust
Closer I look
It’s boring, it’s all boring.
That’s what I tell myself.
Then I remember a quote
from a source I never cared to research
that says
Only boring people get bored
A quaint platitude for the
It's a Wednesday in November
And I'm struggling to keep my eyes open
I must look a mess
My eyes are droopy
And my hair is unbrushed
I'll admit, I didn't try at all this morning
Alas! morning has come upon us.
upon us, has for us to go to school.
Alas, we await for the our carriage to come.
Alas! we arrive, dreading the stream of boredom to come
Everyone leaves,
for what reason I have no clue.
I always think it's because of
something I do.
Maybe I try too hard
or don't try hard enough.
I can be so close or so cold
Aggress! Aggress!
There is one place
A place I see
A place I always end up
I am not a child or a house wife
I am a woman from the rib perhaps
Of goddess divine for sure
It’s 1:15 in the AM.
The family’s asleep, and Mindless Self Indulgence is humming in the background.
Sometimes I can yet
Just can't help to address
That which I want to do yet don't;
My mind a blank slate
Fresh from the memories of before;
It is truly these thoughts that prove
That I'm just bored.
Sleeping in can have its Pro's or like friends, it can be a foe. Having nothing to do can be gruesome. No friends to hang out with, no boyfriend to call, no side-kick to hang out with at the mall.
Hot street and my soles are melting
Not a soul in sight and what a sigh of relief as my feet are on fire
A stroll across the sun would be nice today.
1. at the bus stop
with twisted tobacco at my feet
I watch as drivers pass,
chew gum,
with their radios low enough
to miss my ears.
Begin
wake up at five
then take a drive
flip a switch
and try not to bitch
fill the cups with ice
then try to smile and be nice
take the tips
of quarters and dimes
I care to sidle along
Numerous instances
Of lull and displeasure,
To more fertile grounds
Beaming with vitality
And sweet memories-
Nectar so impassioned
As to arouse my bones,
