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so many yesterdays
sacrificed calendars,
penciled dates
and whimsies called
dreams
Lake Sep 2019
i need to find some strength
to get through today
cause the more that i wait
i might make a mistake

cause everything happens for a reason
and flowers never bloom out of season
it never goes according to plan
with my feet still stuck in the sand

it's all just target practice
i miss and miss till i got it
i never really aimed correctly
but once in awhile i get lucky

most of the time i'm tired
of all these shots i've fired
and i don't have what's required
and the date has now expired
The Dybbuk Aug 2019
"Be All You Can Be," says the television.
"1800-USA-ARMY."
I almost chose it, the life the TV tells me.
I almost went away,
To be a brother-in-arms.
Now, I'm thinking about being a brother-in-a-frat-house,
it hardly compares, but here I am searching
So I can be happy.
An 8 year plan for self-actualization.
Maslow would laugh; at the Army ad, at me, and at everyone who follows a path they didn't carve into rock with a spoon.
Noah Rein Aug 2019
‘I just need time’
Is a thing I say pretty often
But the thing is
I approach everything with caution

I’m not spontaneous
I can’t just jump into new things
I know it’s weird
But I need to know what each day brings

Every new thing
is a mountain for me climb
So I just need to plan ahead
You see, I just need time
Jack Radbourne Aug 2019
what they said to do
she said to do
he said to do
wasn’t what you did at all
it may not have been
what you wanted or
even the thing they wanted
from you and beyond
that believe or know
or think it so in truth
time will say this or that
happened and the eventual
consequences
were that it worked out
just fine for someone
and was it you or was it them?
or was it something beyond
that saying unseen only
starting now to work out
fine for everyone?
Breon Jul 2019
The weight of a dream
Broken up against the rocks
Of my distractions:
I'll abandon this one, too,
Content with the same old things.
An inability to plan and budget is a surefire way to destroy your own hopes before they even begin to form.
Hurricane Apr 2019
I can plan out a lifetime based on one look,
A glance in my direction,
Though disputed,
Can prompt my imagination.

Our life would be happy,
Without harsh judgement,
You'd hold me close,
And laugh when I made the coffee wrong,
But we'd be happy.

This disputed glance,
Probably aimed at her,
Not the deeply loving girl,
Slightly to the right.
for the conscientious , hard worker always sat in the corner
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2019
-for Zukiswa Mvunguse~
and for
~ Jul,
who once again,
loved each line best~


having already deduced that:

“the unplanned is his plan,
it’s his faceted flaws
that refract his coloratura”^

the titled alliteration teases him into thinking
there, is more to be said,
more to be prayed,
the unplanned lesser lesson is as-of-the-yet unlearned,
and the sunburst of a full fledged
lying-in-bed born from a static spark of kinetic energy,
awaking in an unfamiliar bed
or a too familiar state of mind,
begs for birth and vainglorious death-by-anon/amity
of another poem  

I have written poems commissioned,
“write about suicide,” asked a friend,
“take this word and artfully knead it,” once, was once an oft request,
twisty manipulate your scheming resources into
finely assaying a field rock raw,
laboratory mind-mine it into an essay that delve dives
where you fear to treacherous tread,
resultant, an awkward prayer, now, a valued mineral

no poem is truly planned and no prayer ever truly answered,
but as you compose, pushing the last, next word
ever farther to the right,
you self-confess, expecting no absolution, that the poem,
this one as well,
and the next, and the next, and the next

has always been planned since your inception,
always a prayer asked, and in creation conception,
answered even if not directly answered,
for
in the bare minimum asking,
is the answering,
is the planning,
is the poem and the prayer,
is his owned
alliteration
spontaneously born at 7:57am on
Sunday, March 24, 2019
^ https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3021583/being-a-poet-is-not-planned/

read her poems. https://hellopoetry.com/Zig1/
Isabel Aghahowa Dec 2018
how am i to breathe?
without knowing every breath
and every second that comes with
the one after the next
for the absence of expectation
is nothing but fear
when every moment could be sacred
and could be known to the millisecond

i am precious with your time
i count the steps you take and the ones that will come with it
for i don't know when you will next step
with me there to count
and for me there to think about your every precious inhale
and exhale
Inspired by T.S Elliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"
Meticulously making milestones,
Don’t chase me,
Dripping dropping side roads of thoughts,
My train is racing,
Until it's up ended by life,
Hum’or’catastrophe
The beat and time I’ve worked for entirely,
Dies
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