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So Tired

angry cars
exhaust, exhuast

homework, tests
exhaust, exhaust

LIFE, LIFE
exhaust, exhaust

poem by Annie Janine
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Something Suggested That Exchanges Mint

When will the same argument,
Exhaust the nonsense of its fight?
Backs have buckled from the strain of it.
And those in the midst of these conflicts...
Have proven themselves to be full of excrement.
In need to flush with a new diet meant.
At least one that cleanses.
To refreshen the air with uplifting sentiments.

When will the same argument,
Exhaust the nonsense of its fight?
How can anyone sleep peacefully at night...
Feeling clogged up with a blockage,
That keeps them uptight.

A continuation manifesting waste...
That leaves a bitterness on one's tongue to taste...
Does nothing to produce a good scented atmosphere.
Not if wishful thinking is there to have it cleared.
What will it take to change and maneuver these moods?

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Epilogue

Having forsaken all paths open to me
I come to you
Always.
And when for a while I am with you
I go beyond myself for eons
In measuring the distance of a single word.
I exhaust the breath count
Of my vanquished life-span
In the midst of your victorious centuries.
The single moment with you
Which becomes the digit of my fate
Remains deprived of any count.

The seasons exhaust all their four guise-embodiments
And snows of uncounted millenia
Continue piling up in heaps
On the poles
From beginning to the end of time
While you sit near the fireplace
Soaking yourself in the warmth

[...] Read more

poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Leave My Car Alone

By stuffing newspaper up the exhaust of my car
Somebody I do not know have taken their fun too far
I do not have a known enemy and I'm new to this Town
Why is someone I do not know trying to drag me down?

My car it felt sick and I rang the R A C V
And what the mechanic discovered a huge surprise to me
A newspaper rolled up blocked the exhaust pipe rear
By some not too nice person it was pushed in there.

I am not without sin I will not cast the stone
But if you do not like the look of me leave my car alone
You do unto others what you'd like them do to you
Those words not by me but those words seem so true.

Against the person who did this I could not hold a grudge
And since I am not meant to be anyone's judge
Of that karma will surely take care
What goes around comes around that does seem fair.

[...] Read more

poem by Francis Duggan
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The Ruined Abbey, or, The Affects of Superstition

At length fair Peace, with olive crown'd, regains
Her lawful throne, and to the sacred haunts
Of wood or fount the frighted Muse returns.
Happy the bard who, from his native hills,
Soft musing on a summer's eve, surveys
His azure stream, with pensile woods enclosed;
Or o'er the glassy surface with his friend,
Or faithful fair, through bordering willows green,
Wafts his small frigate. Fearless he of shouts,
Or taunts, the rhetoric of the watery crew
That ape confusion from the realms they rule;
Fearless of these; who shares the gentler voice
Of peace and music; birds of sweetest song
Attune from native boughs their various lay,
And cheer the forest; birds of brighter plume
With busy pinion skim the glittering wave,
And tempt the sun; ambitious to display
Their several merit, while the vocal flute
Or number'd verse, by female voice endear'd,
Crowns his delight, and mollifies the scene.

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poem by William Shenstone
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The Athenaid: Volume III: Book the Twenty-eighth

While lamentation for Masistius dead
Depress'd the Persians, undisturb'd the Greeks
To all their camp refreshment had deriv'd
From clear Asopus. To th' accustom'd edge
Of his abounding flood they now resort.
Stones, darts and arrows from unnumber'd ranks,
Along the margin opposite dispos'd
By Mindarus, forbid access. Repulse
Disbands the Greeks. Exulting, he forgets
Cleora; active valour in his breast
Extinguishes the embers, cherish'd long
By self-tormenting memory, and warmth
Of fruitless passion. Present too his chief,
His friend and kinsman, from a fiery steed
Mardonius rules and stimulates the fight,
Like Boreas, riding on a stormy cloud,
Whence issue darts of light'ning, mix'd with hail
In rattling show'rs. The enemies dispers'd,
Embolden Mindarus to ford the stream.
In guidance swift of cavalry expert,

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poem by Richard Glover
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Cyder: Book II

O Harcourt, Whom th' ingenuous Love of Arts
Has carry'd from Thy native Soil, beyond
Th' eternal Alpine Snows, and now detains
In Italy's waste Realms, how long must we
Lament Thy Absence? Whilst in sweet Sojourn
Thou view'st the Reliques of old Rome; or what,
Unrival'd Authors by their Presence, made
For ever venerable, rural Seats,
Tibur, and Tusculum, or Virgil's Urn
Green with immortal Bays, which haply Thou,
Respecting his great Name, dost now approach
With bended Knee, and strow with purple Flow'rs;
Unmindful of Thy Friends, that ill can brook
This long Delay. At length, Dear Youth, return,
Of Wit, and Judgement ripe in blooming Years,
And Britain's Isle with Latian Knowledge grace.
Return, and let Thy Father's Worth excite
Thirst of Preeminence; see! how the Cause
Of Widows, and of Orphans He asserts
With winning Rhetoric, and well argu'd Law!

[...] Read more

poem by John Arthur Phillips
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The office of drama is to exercise, possibly to exhaust, human emotions. The purpose of comedy is to tickle those emotions into an expression of light relief; of tragedy, to wound them and bring the relief of tears. Disgust and terror are the other points of the compass.

classic quote by Laurence Olivier
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Who can exhaust a man? Who knows a man's resources?

quote by Jean-Paul Sartre
Added by Lucian Velea
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Millions of hells of sinners cannot come near to exhaust infinite grace.

quote by Samuel Rutherford
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