All poems found containing the word day
Stefan Ky Yves "For every day is a battle to convince myself,"

I wonder how it's like to be famous,
But I wonder how hard it could be.
To figure out how far I could go.

I'd probably lose myself in all the features,
And end up being somebody I hate.

Though ever since I saw her smiling,
in between the photo shoots.
Yes, I'm glad that she is happy.
I'm glad she never fell in love with me.

My dear, it's best if I just lay here.
To just love all of what I have.
And dream of the world on how it should be.

For every day is a battle to convince myself,
That I'm glad she never fell in love with me.

CC "but on that last day,"

I had so many chances
to to give us a chance,
I walked by you in the hallways so many times,
but I dropped my eyes to the floor,
and pretended you were no more than another boy,
but you were not,
Oh no, not to me.
We conversed with our eyes,
and they told me enough to know
that you wanted me too,
I knew, oh I knew
but on that last day,
I made a most detrimental mistake,
and instead I decided that my nerves
were worth more than my heart.

-cc

Sarah Writes "Your way to the next day sit and look at pictures be jealous"

Sleep deprived
Deranged just a little touch/just a little
Tip
Crack your
Knuckles work your bones
All around this town is shaking
Shiver/moan
All the ways we get horizontal
We get up to
Get down, always a little off
Always a half-second early, drop
Let it all fall off
Devolve your way to the light, we're so god damned enlightened here
Stagger on my wayward friend
We get weird but
It ain't so strange
Tie your hair up in tangles like you've been had on the ground
Alley dirt on your ass
Dance your way to the front
Alternate between confident and terrified/cigarettes naked fall
Asleep alone
On some weird couch
While your best friend
Fucks your ex in another house
Forgivable, forgivable
Can't be mad at the poet/drunk but it's okay just breathe
Your way to the next day sit and look at pictures be jealous
Of the you you used to be
Shower like you're poison
Fill your car and
Head South Head South Head South

Casaria "tears and the lost hope for a brighter day."

So what if I am crazy, like I would need to know.
People say the words I write and cry are cursed.
How would they know that? They don't even know me....
Maybe they are right. I only write for the loss of love and peace.
I have done things that the two lords of the world would not approve of.
The lies, the tears and the lost hope for a brighter day.
I just want it to end.
I am called crazy from my own mother, she says i'm a sinner.
I want to be dead... Cold, limp, still.
I am the beast I wanted to be, now that I am.... I am Horrid.
I can never change back. NEVER!
I am all alone...
The alone one I can trust and trusts me is my old cat named Fatboy.
Sometime I swear hes telling me to stop doing the sins and cursing the lords.

This is kinda like a diary thing lol.

DAY!
Too much!
--
Too much  DOING

----
----
          Thinking
DREAMING!
       Creating
---
-
That's what we need
---
--
--
Come child

LOVE!

It is your hour!

Bend Time into
The Patterns and the
Rhythms
You need
To
Hold your purest thoughts
Unto the World
--

(We have waited for you for so
Long)

----

Bring us the NIGHT
Child

Sweet
..
And it's Peace
-----
--
You are the Seed
We --- the soil
..
Pray oh pray
For the Rain!
---

Humbleness
---

Keep us still
--
And in pure thoughts' embrace
---
-----
Let us free
Our
LOVE!
--

And heal ourselves
Of all pain

..

Let us free
Our
LOVE!

Let us give
The world what it needs

Mae "Soon will dawn another day"

Time to sleep now rest your head !
You know you're weary, go to bed !
Soon will dawn another day
to jump right in and join the fray
Go curl up with your pillow dear
Surrender to this comfort near
Though turbulence exciting feels
Let dream time be the space that heals

Especially for you Embers, and for some others...including me.
Russell William Johnson "old mother's day cards from the kids"

I cleaned out an old drawer
of odds and ends.
    there were paperclips and the door to a battery case on some remote
    an orange candle stub, from Halloween I think
    lots of batteries and four flashlights, though only one worked
    and parts of things which I'm sure made sense to keep at the time
          I have no idea what they are now

I cleaned out an old drawer
  of thing I've forgotten
      pictures of my daughter in a lost setting
      a letter of gratitude from a friend, but for what?
      a postcard from Barcelona
      graduation announcements for our friend's children
           I don't think I sent a gift

I cleaned out an old drawer
  of memories and my past
     a ticket stub from an evening with Isabel
     a newspaper clipping of my son in scouts
     old mother's day cards from the kids
     subway map of New York City from October 2001
         Memories of adventure and love

I cleaned out an old drawer
  and sorted, straightened and remembered
     batteries went together in a small box
    rubber bands and  coins in their proper place
    memories dusted off and replaced
        out of the drawer and back into my head

My life is a little like cabinet drawers
   stuffed with junk and trash mixed with treasures and tools
   I think I'll clean my cabinet more often
     I'll organize some things that I'll need
         like my mom and dads affection and support
         my friends kindness and playfulness
     I'll throw away the useless things
          like anger, resentment, and regret
          to make room for my treasures
And I'll be reminded of what has been
         a childhood of play, security, discovery and love
         my magical children  and the wonder at every age
         my beloved and her steadfast love and respect
         faith, hope, joy, compassion, service

MeaganKathryn "hinking about you every moment of every day."

I think the hardest thing to remember is that everything ends.

When times are great and I'm lying in your arms its so easy to remember
That you're going to leave.
I count down the minutes until you'll have to get out of my bed, pull on your shorts, pack up your bag,
And go.
Its easy to look at it in terms of time
And know exactly how many seconds I have
Until you leave.

But when the insides of my stomach are clenching and aching,
When there's nothing in the world that can make this pain stop,
It's hard to remember that this too will end.
This time there aren't a set number of minutes to count down,
But it will pass.

My friends tell me, "He wasn't good enough for you"
My roommate says, "There's only so many times he can make you cry before I write him off."
My mom says "You've been down lately honey.  Is everything okay?"
I start to perk up and think, You're right. I'm glad he's leaving.
Only a few more minutes.

I follow up with telling them that my psychic says I haven't met the love of my life yet.
I don't yet know the man I'll marry,
Which makes me feel better.
And then she says, "Have you seen her recently? How do you know?"
And I'm back to tallying the minutes left in my misery.

Its hard to remember that this pain will subside
That it will stop hurting so badly.
That I will stop thinking about you every moment of every day.

But then take me back to the flip side where things were perfect.
When we spent our first night together-
The build up,
The flirting,
The giggling-
To when we were finally in your bed, locked in each others arms
And you said to me, "This isn't going to be a one time thing."
Even then, I knew our time was limited.

I know eventually I will leave your bed permanently in the morning
To go back to my place.
And I know eventually my life will continue on without you in it.
Without our fingertips locked around each others.
But its hard to remember that
Its hard to want that.

And now you're leaving
And I so badly want to say the things
That you're not supposed to say to the guy you're fucking.
Will you ever talk to me again?
Can I still text you 24 hours a day?
Can I have your address?
Can I call you?
Do you want to call me?
Can we talk about doing more?
Can we talk about visiting?

I don't want to get a drink or coffee when I happen to be in town.
I want to visit for you.

But I'm afraid those are going to end things even quicker.
I know its going to end.  That's not the question.
I just want to hold out for as long as possible
With my fingers caught in your hair,
With your arm grasping my waist,
With our texts stretching late into the nights when we can't be together.

Maybe someday we'll meet in some city
And get that drink or coffee I want more than
And rekindle this flame (5 years?).
Maybe I'll text you one too many times
And you'll stop responding (6 months?).
Or maybe we'll meet other people
And forget about our short moment of bliss (1 year?).

Until then I will continue to tally how many minutes have passed
And I have left to suffer
Until something, someone, fills this aching hole
Until there is a happier ending.

Harley Rae "I need the thick air of a humid day,"

I need the sun and it's warm arms around me,
I need earth's sweet soil to stain my bare soles,
and soul,


I need the thick air of a humid day,
with the rain clouds hanging over me,
threatening to obstruct my evening plans of star gazing,


I long for the warm, dirty waters of the lakes of my home town,
the gargling bubbles in the back of my throat when I accidentally breathe underwater,
and I long for the pain in my ear canal when water gets trapped,
from pretending to be a mermaid for too long,


I am impatient for the ache on my shoulders and face, from UV exposure,
too much of a good thing does exist,
but it's nothing Aloe Vera can't soothe,


I am anxious for cold beers on the porch with my best friends
in the home we live in together,
and I am anxious for the mornings wasted laying in bed,
with the morning sunshine through my lace curtains as my only alarm clock,


I want the bruised legs, scraped knees, freckles, and dirty hands
that only these short lived summer months can bring to me,
I want the careless, reckless, "it's only 2 am" behaviors that come with a late sunset,
and I want the happiness that comes with the scent of flowers entangled in my hair,
a late sunrise, and warm winds.

Jessica Cushman "wishing the day could never end"

and then there are those days

when one minute your smiling
enjoying the gleeful moments,
wishing the day could never end

and then the next minute
you become a gloomy stew of sadness and pain
crying out for someone to hear you,
someone to relate to.

you begin to break down,
piece by piece
you remember the flaws
the nightmares
the torment
and you want it all to end

you dont want to do it
but its the only thing to do
though no one knows your internal sadness
they soon wont be able to fix whats been done

their words
their actions
they all come together
as a deadly force
that can and will take my life
and they call this
society

 
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