Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#sideways
It's like walking on PINS and NEEDLES, which is very, very HARD to ENDURE, While going through TRYING TIMES, and HARDSHIPS, Looking for HOPE but just NOT TOO SURE. When LIFE is GIVING you LEMONs or You are just HANGING on by a THREAD, or looking for a SCAPEGOAT or, MAYBE IT ALL IN YOUR HEAD. Whenever there is a PROBLEM,   an ISSUE or NO RESOLUTION, JUST ALWAYS REMEMBER: THOUGH IT ALL!!! There will always be a SOLUTION!!! When Your NERVES are on the EDGE, and YOU'RE COMPLETELY LOOSING CONTROL, Your MIND is GOING SIDEWAYS, As if you have NO PLACE ELSE TO GO, When your NERVES are GETTING THE BEST of YOU, and THOUGHTS are going TO and FRO. Just TAKE in a FEW DEEP BREATHS L, A give a STERN GLANCE, LET GO of your FRUSTRATIONS and Here comes your BIG CHANCE, To LET GO OF the NERVES and the TENSION, For, this FEELING IT WILL NOT LAST, IT WILL SUBSIDE and then GO AWAY, and Your ANXIETY will be in the PAST!!!! B.R. Date:  10/31/2024
0
Oct 31, 2024
Oct 31, 2024 at 10:19 PM UTC
On Pins and Needles
At times one has to go sideways before they can go forward when attempting to reach that place they’re heading toward. ________________________
0
Jan 31, 2022
Jan 31, 2022 at 5:39 AM UTC
Simple Observation #350 - At times one has to go .....
_Love travels sideways, Down dark alleys, Along winding country lanes; Arrives late, Hesitates too long, Leaves early; A journey to take, A destination unmapped, An invitation to linger when we least expect it._
0
Mar 1, 2020
Mar 1, 2020 at 12:00 AM UTC
Sideways
_Papa always said, ‘Parallel lives meet when love travels sideways.’_
0
Oct 24, 2019
Oct 24, 2019 at 10:27 PM UTC
Sliding Doors
Sometimes I prefer you looking at something else Instead of me. Not because I'm shy Or you look better sideways, But because of the way You wonder at things. I love the feeling of thinking That if you can look At lifeless mountains in too much awe, How much more passion do you give Looking at the person who owns your soul?
0
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 7:39 PM UTC
Sideways
Reality comes in flashes Waves of inaudible screams Weightless in a body of regret I inhale this false world Imprisoned in a vast beyond I know that I am trying To awake from this criminal comatose All I have is a key To a lock I'll never find.
0
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 1:14 AM UTC
Sideways
Dangerous roads and starless nights a/c out and faulty lights squeaky brakes a seat that bites you can take your truck and stuff it endless circles lonely bi ways without a net on the highway it's time that i just did it my way you can take your truck and stuff it you can take your truck and stuff it sideways right there where the sun don't shine you can take your truck and stuff it sideways it's not your life that's on the line you can take your truck and stuff it sideways right there where the sun don't shine you can take your truck and stuff it sideways i'm on my way....and that's just fine paperwork time delaying canvas straps constantly fraying you ***** to me but i hear naying you can take your truck and stuff it life's short i'm not waiting takes too much to keep berating i'm getting ******* and we're not dating you can take your truck and stuff it you can take your truck and stuff it sideways right there where the sun don't shine you can take your truck and stuff it sideways it's not your life that's on the line you can take your truck and stuff it sideways right there where the sun don't shine you can take your truck and stuff it sideways i'm on my way....and that's just fine
0
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
take your truck and stuff it....
Living life on a slant.  Things keep slipping   Just out of reach,    Looking like they are far,     Too far to be here or there.      Everything is unobtainable,       People seem like they        Plot against what you         Want for them and for your life.          Smiles seem crooked,           Sidelong glances lengthen,            And frowns look fake.             Nothing is clear when              The only perspective is               Sideways.
0
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
Wamble
It's like this, and then there was total recall. Fast like a safety plan made wrong and then bouncing in and out all the way down the hall. Up through cable cars, Korean fast food market, wet fish, soupy street, concrete cracks filled with crab meat and **** heads. Just a square, a five block, two street, sideways quadrangle, beat of the Tenderloin, hour of the dove. Every one's dead on these loose ends. Hills of the back of her backside, skin of the back of her neck. Rapture is the grave of the sunset, memory is that thing that I said. No one cans in carnivores, no one runs moves like a shepherd. Sunday, daft as candy, luck in the ways of the prophet. Canon of the blaze of every woman that died today. The sleep setting, the motorcycle bending the hollow, the ravines noisy interlude, up through the rough and the tangles, huddles in a six pack, three or four walking up the block to meet the rest of them. The skin doesn't fit right, it wears wrong, the shoulders stiff, the masseuse excuses himself. Buckets of flowers hang from the ceiling like stripped cat christmas decorations in suburban mastermind serial killer resort town. Everyone is quiet because they gotta. They move their feet like they were hurrying death into a red volcano, like they were the errand of red from the top bell to the bottom of the town. I sit on a roof top, baking in the noon day sun. Stripping sticks and stems off the side to sideways, just roasting away, laying, low in the afternoon light. I see a girl with her hands on her skirt, wobbling, scooting a priest card on a periwinkle terra-cotta. I move my head, turn it upside round to take a better look. No one counts to ten when they see me. The gangster that woke up isn't the gangster that went to sleep last night. My wickedness ended my words mean your bright decay. So I ride the pavement exhausted, burying my coughs in an L-shaped arm
0
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
Sunday Morning
It's like this, and then there was total recall. Fast like a safety plan made wrong and then bouncing in and out all the way down the hall. Up through cable cars, Korean fast food market, wet fish, soupy street, concrete cracks filled with crab meat and **** heads. Just a square, a five block, two street, sideways quadrangle, beat of the Tenderloin, hour of the dove. Every one's dead on these loose ends. Hills of the back of her backside, skin of the back of her neck. Rapture is the grave of the sunset, memory is that thing that I said. No one cans in carnivores, no one runs moves like a shepherd. Sunday, daft as candy, luck in the ways of the prophet. Canon of the blaze of every woman that died today. The sleep setting, the motorcycle bending the hollow, the ravines noisy interlude, up through the rough and the tangles, huddles in a six pack, three or four walking up the block to meet the rest of them. The skin doesn't fit right, it wears wrong, the shoulders stiff, the masseuse excuses himself. Buckets of flowers hang from the ceiling like stripped cat christmas decorations in suburban mastermind serial killer resort town. Everyone is quiet because they gotta. They move their feet like they were hurrying death into a red volcano, like they were the errand of red from the top bell to the bottom of the town. I sit on a roof top, baking in the noon day sun. Stripping sticks and stems off the side to sideways, just roasting away, laying, low in the afternoon light. I see a girl with her hands on her skirt, wobbling, scooting a priest card on a periwinkle terra-cotta. I move my head, turn it upside round to take a better look. No one counts to ten when they see me. The gangster that woke up isn't the gangster that went to sleep last night. My wickedness ended my words mean your bright decay. So I ride the pavement exhausted, burying my coughs in an L-shaped arm
Continue reading...
4
Tsk tsk tossed go out Your suggestions. Whisk whisk washed flow south Your directions. Hiss hiss sorry no time for sage reflections. Songs you sang will not be sung Nor any tales of strength believed. The brain embodied in such young Must think it he first to perceive. Ask every man Who first made sparks? From rocks to barks? Blinding night and fooling fear? Wholly gone ghost Our first bright creature He harnessed fire Then disappeared. Realizations when thought anew Seem to skip from us awry. So no Salutes nor an ovation For those who fostered Us will be spied. Gods truth your lips bespoke to youth Yet still it's not their time to hear. For these ears are full of magic And your end rolls Crushing near.
0
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
Degrade Satisfaction (take two)