All poems found containing the word day
Sam Hawkins "on this new day."

Buildings for the most part are boxes square.
But Pentecost circles and spirals,
they turn and burn wild.

Of those who likely would propose
to make tame and comprehensible any fire--
apt tongues go titch titch and beautiful catch
'til text and musics and parlor diplomacies
have fortified much which is untrue.

Fear has no finish, even in our dying.
The path is a cliff edge.

Release all of Earth's children far into the forest world.
Water shall love and receive us, as it always has.

Listen to the tongues of the wind.
Loosen the hinges of the body.

Let all creation fly,
on this new day.

David Ayres "dazzling displays amaze you more by the day."

There's no rest for the wicked. The plot thickens. The blood thins, then bleeds out onto the thorny thickets biting at bare shins, which sickens you to death times ten. Now you're feeling like a tiger in human skin. You begin setting off on the prowl for substance and the meaning of your life akin to the World's splendor. It's sustenance revealed to your awoken third eye of insight. The mind's eye of you and me, sees bountiful trees breathing and leaning towards your sweeping winds of change. Swaying towards every gaze, starstruck and amazed, chasing the dreams of completing this crazy maze of madness. Tears of joy, tears of sadness, tears that lubricate the gears that moves giant machines for years to come. May they be for peace, safety, and fun. Genes of the spirals behind our tattered, denim jeans holds molecular machines within us. Tiny gears set into motion, creating particular love potions, pouring out into vast oceans of debris floating in currents aligned. Strive for hopes and meanings sublime. Finely layered lines of poetry shine out from the beating hearts of timely martyrs chiming, rhyming, and climbing up the never-ending step ladder of the divinely. Ascension from the tension of the rotting vine of hatred, did I mention the sign of sacred love, which swoops down from above? The dove from it's perch of light, stares directly into your sight. Bright, dazzling displays amaze you more by the day.
Chasing and facing the challenges of anxiety, stress, and worry, obstructions of a 10 story building crumbling down all around you. Dust-bellowing clouds to choke and blindly block your steps around the destruction. Using torn limbs as bloody crutches, stumbling amongst dozens of slain wretches. Bets are placed for survival of the quickest and fittest. The wittiest guy you know is fastidious as the insidious destroyers of tomorrow.
This poem I borrowed from my soul and mind. The lines have spilled out onto shining paper reflecting the light from the mind's eye. All these meaningless rhymes will move tides that waves to you goodbye.

Derek Scott Darling "From the day he arrived"

From the day he arrived
Each inch nervously shook
I could only surmise
The beatings he took
The abuse rendered still
By only raised voices
Yet humble and still
in everyday choices
Each morn he'd surround
the perimeter of our hearts
Wrapt in safe ground
Playing the part
His pastoral wag
Enlightens the day
Never to brag
Always to play
So now layed to ground
To univeral nest
The goldest of downs
Heel boy, and rest

The only Scottish yellow lab that I ever knew.  He was a dear friend.  He was put to rest May 19th, 2013 after suffering shortly from a brain tumor.
Anubis the Philosomancer "Clear as Day,"

I feel so much more at home
when the Sun isn't shown;

Walking the streets at Night
while my side of the World sleeps.
Not for some sought after seclusion,
but rather because I just like it.

Billions of specks perforate the blackened sky
as billions of Neurons fire and forget.

Nighttime is mystical;
the inner self has more space to fill than in the daytime,
wherein the gaps are filled for us
by assholes in fancy offices we pay for
who weave tapestries of demagoguery
in front of nice cameras
and behind closed doors:

Clear as Day,
Clever as Night.

Though Day has it's place,
Night is it's balance.
Night is the supple ripeness of potential
where Day is the actualization of potential.

Nyx is the Goddess of the Night;
mother of Sleep, Dreams and Death.
A strange and shy Goddess of Occlusion,
Keeper of the darkened Gateways
of deeper and truer Understanding.

Night is a Dream;
a magical time of mythical atonement
for both Body and the Mind:
a time nearly separate from time,
a time of my own.

Alas, daybreak is neigh.

rained-on parade ", going back into the time to that very day"

I took a paper and a pen and sat down to write
A plan on how I was going to make a time machine--
Because I had to, I had to go back in time and change your mind--
But I flew past papers and entire diaries and I know there is no more ink
Left in this world to continue writing
Yet, I still have no more than a mite of sense in a huge mathematical mess
Of fractions, functions and graphs, and sad handwriting

I put together my math with metal and I scoured the earth looking for the
Exact things to perfect my monster creation and satisfy the algorithms--
Time was not going anywhere and you are awaiting my perfect words that I actually tell you
And stop you from taking the step outside the door--
I spent years to just put together the courage to finally plug the machine
Into the socket-- a humble four-point in the wall and all it took was the turn of a switch

I spent years and all my time and all my youth
All my mind and all my life creating a time machine
So that I fly by the light, going back into the time to that very day
When I first saw you and take a the seat in the corner of the class
Instead of the one next to you
I would take the one opposite to where you sat and refuse to even look at you
Because then, we will not begin something we would never be able to end

I am here now and all it takes is the turn of a switch,
A time machine to end all of the worries
A turn of a switch and I would be able to fix all my life
I created this thing with all my life, so that I can forget you

And glory! am I successful
I forget you, but not by the power of a time machine
But I do forget you
I set my room on fire and jump out of the window

X the unknown variable "But in the end of the day"

So you say I’m harsh
Very well.
I admit
I am not very nice
At any point in time
But I try.
I try to make everyone happy
I try to help
But in the end of the day
I’m just a bothersome pest
A shallow, annoying
Pest.
Yet when I don’t reply
You say I don’t care.

Sorry if it hurt you
Sorry if it added on to your problems.
But harsh?

Everyone’s had it tough
Not only you.
You’ve definitely had it really rough
With him out there
Doing God knows what.
Sure, your life hasn’t been really happy
Well you know what?
So hasn’t mine.

My books
The stories I lose myself in
To escape
You took them away.
My connection
With all the friends I adore
You cut me off
The things that I enjoy doing
You turn them into work
Making me loath them
My emotion
You ban them
Make me suppress them
Making me pretend that I am
Once again
The cheery, innocent little girl
From years before
Who will never
Return
Keeping my guard up
Even at home
Only till I am safely under the sheets
In the dark
With the door closed
Alone
And yet, I still do as you please.

Fine.
Say that I’m selfish
Say that I demand too much
Say that I do too little
Say that I’m hopeless
But I’m only human.
Am I?
Who knows.
Probably a monster.
A leech.
A burden.

So.
Harsh?

Paige Nicole Davis "hear from you all day."

I heard somewhere
that the more you talk
about a person the more
in love with them you fall.
I believe this is true
as my mind
wanders,
the more it hurts when I don't
hear from you all day.
For now,
I will be the girl
that doesn't give a fuck,
until one day,
I really do.

meuxicalprodigy "It was Valentines Day any moment college students like her wo"

"Ate kahit 400"
"Hindi po talaga ito pinagbibili eh" Said Carla apologetically as she smiles with half of her teeth shown  
"500, sige na please. Bibigay ko rin po sa boyfriend ko eh" pleaded the girl wearing sandals as she pulled out a blue colored three headed paper bill from her leather wallet.

From the looks of things Carla had a hard time to decide.
After giving her the change. She then tiptoed to remove a clip that attaches a teddy bear to a plastic rack
and had it put to a cardboard box for her.
It was the only thing out of place from her little stall that sells for Class-A jackets and school bags.

"It was a good deal" Carla thought as the girl wearing that sandal left and put it near her car
She was planning to give it to someone else but deduced that he might not be that fond of stuff toys like her anyway.

She remembered about almost a week ago when she accompanied her mother to their supplier to purchase secondhand merchandise that they were going to resell. She noticed that teddy bear in a really bad shape and got the suppliers permission to keep it. She then mending it was easy for her exceptional stitching skills.

"A few more hours" she thought as she looked on the wall clock and sat on a small wooden stool barely six inches high and fanning her sweaty chest. In parallel to older vendors  who are unlike her reading tabloid newspapers and watching Will time Big Time merely dissipated fromwhile eating fish variations and kamatis.

It was Valentines Day any moment college students like her would all come rushing through the gates and turn the business table of that lazy afternoon.
True enough. Moments later.
The sidewalk gradually begins to be congested by students as much as the road.
She could
__

About Eight in the evening. Carla then decided to made the trade off between taking advantage of the occassion or closing down the shop. Afterall, she had more than enough to buy her mother the medicine which she badly so needed and was suppose to take her place that day. She then took out a few hundreds from a rusty ton box (which was once a kiddie meal toy a few years ago).
Went inside KFC's and perked herself up.

Lawrence Steinmetz "Back in the day, before I knew I had a heart"

It's been the longest year of my life
In terms of struggle, in terms of strife
Not in a way that's measured by time
No, this year was measured in rhymes

From the choices I've made along this road
To being one step closer to the shore of our goals
You can talk with the ghosts inside your head
Or wake up and realize their already dead

Back some time ago, I nearly fell prey
To the zombies and demons leading me astray
To the vampires and werewolves tearing me apart
Back in the day, before I knew I had a heart

I would talk to a phantom I thought was me
An image of who I thought I could be
But that illusion grew dim as time marched on
And the picture was clear that I was wrong

The mistakes I made, believe it or not
Paved the way out of that parking lot
Of space in my mind and space in my soul
Made entirely of spiritual pot holes

But I wouldn't be here, making my way
To somewhere I promised you every day
And we'll be right there, hand in hand
As the cosmic symphonies resonate with our plans

I'll make it one day, with you arms
As we crawl out bed to silence alarms
And we'll see our child's smile on his face
I'm so grateful for all the mistakes I've made

transparent "not a day goes by that my thoughts"

you asked me to write a poem about you
and i am honestly, for the first time,
at a complete loss of words

i think it almost impossible to write
a poem to match and compete
with your flawless beauty

and i am afraid that if i even bothered
to try that it would be incredibly
pathetic and dull in comparison

so i guess all i'll tell you is that every
waking moment, i am thinking
about you, and loving you

and wishing for your beautiful form
to be completely vulnerable and
fall asleep in my arms again

i fell in love with the way you loved
and the way tiny lights danced
in the glimmer of your eyes

not a day goes by that my thoughts
are not revolving around you
my love, i have fallen

for you
and only you

 
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