#toil
Sometimes,
I wish I had the power
like Joshua did
when he made the world
stop moving
for a whole day.
Just that I don't want it
for killing enemies
or conquering cities.
No, I don't.
I have enough chaos
already going on.
I just want it,
so that I can stop the world
for a couple of hours,
maybe even a whole day;
just to catch my breath
and take a rest
from this thing
called living.
Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 8:57 AM UTC
Tucked under watch of a recent town,
Nourishing raindrops trickle down,
Steady on, a boy works the land,
For none here would eat, 'cept by his hand,
Through the night and on to the morn,
He works alone as a new day is born,
Digging, raking, and sowing,
Soon labor's fruits are growing,
Dread spring flood or autumn gale,
He tends the earth in heat or hail,
To find to reap, the sweetest feat,
To give others, his crop to eat.
Feb 9, 2025
Feb 9, 2025 at 2:20 PM UTC
Let the weight of the world go,
Like morning frost
Beneath dawn's tender touch.
Spread your worries over the earth,
Not as stones, but as seeds.
Watch how fresh roots
Will comfort your despair,
Nurturing it into strength.
Then emerge with resilience,
As daybreak’s first steady breath
Calm, enduring and inevitable.
Do not dwell on others' requests;
Your heart knows its needs,
Longing to become more
Than just something.
Wishing to be whole and unbroken
By time's constant haste.
While adrift with your name
on the wind's tongue,
Carried by the breeze
That understands the truth.
These winds have carved mountains
And have ridden the tides
Of wild, untamed oceans.
Take a moment to compose yourself.
Your respite is not submission,
But the gathering of thunder
Within the lull before the storm breaks.
It is a deep breath before your voice
Awakens the sleeping sky,
The dawn holds its breath in waiting,
As the burden lessens with time.
©️Lizzie Bevis
Dec 5, 2024
Dec 5, 2024 at 2:49 PM UTC
.
i launch from within
the critical business of sleep and dreamwork
and into the pre-furnished day
mucus skin
like the first gobbed up evolver to get turfed up on the beaches
i let go the veils of those true solving agents
the motions those treasurable scenes
of bloom and swoon tidal theatre
they disperse
and i tough out a self applied
measured and subservient routine
a hasty and unrewarding approach to 'productive' business
it brings me distaste
but cements me in shared society
passer bys throw up their greetings
and i heave 'hellos' in return
Aug 14, 2024
Aug 14, 2024 at 10:05 PM UTC
The King sits on his throne
After another long day of work
Resting
Providing for the people
Deciding for the people
His hand reaches to the outskirts of his kingdom
To call his reign tyranny would be absurd
For who would question a leader who benefits most from their own decisions?
And who wouldn't be happy to have to toil a little more when mistakes are made and his lack of care becomes purposeful?
And when his entitlement to the land that he tires himself for day in and day out means that you cannot question his perfect authority, cannot begin to even suggest discussing his non-existent faults?
For people these days do not want to hear advice, do not wish to work hard enough, are lazy, and if these words come out as harsh when you're trying your hardest, that means you can't handle the truth and no other truth exists but that of the one and only royal Highness.
For what plants grow under shadow,
And what trees stand tall without roots firm in the ground?
What should the King do when the people lose their will and turn their backs on what security that has been offered to them
Feb 6, 2024
Feb 6, 2024 at 8:39 AM UTC
Blood spelt sweat
Poisoned stick at my throat
Rush of adrenalin as I stand at the edge
Here's to being at this place again
The place, a false flag of declaration
The place, a false red light when it's green
The mind is detached from the body
And declares harm and evil is on it's way
The battle begins and I push against an invisible enemy
The first attack leads to no victors
The second like a punch in the gut
I kneel in pain, but the body is not hurt
Rotten forest leads to rotten homes and rotten people
Passing through the swamp of social deity
I cross a bridge with breaking timbers
Suddenly light breaks through a small gap and the toil ends
Mar 20, 2022
Mar 20, 2022 at 2:59 PM UTC
(With regards to International Workers’ Day)
Who said workers are only workers?
They are a gift of heaven
They come for social good;
But return with lots of deterrence
You may treat them like engines
But always remember
There is also a worker
Somewhere within you
Who is keen to protect the dignity
Of these outdoor workers.
Workers are not only workers…
Above all, they are humans
Just like you and me.
Jul 12, 2021
Jul 12, 2021 at 1:25 PM UTC
The battle has died down
I arrived at this bed with a frown
I lie to slumber in this nightly dress
I cower in this silken mattress
As my eyes of umber are weeping hidden under my palms
Sweeping the tears while humming my psalms
The throbbing in my head is louder than of my heart
Or to pierce it with a dart
So, fully conscious mind, this rest i plead from you
Rather than to bind this pain that you grew
And by these pills
Shall it rid me of these chills?
Yes! And by the minute, the dull dusk darkened
Alas, there is no further need to bargain
Opening the door for the long-awaited drowse
With the easy eyebrows
Before closing the lights
In this long night
Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 10:58 PM UTC
Earth
Our Mother
With our care - we now cover
Rebuilding your soil
With intention and toil
We are sorry
To make you cry
And drain your rivers dry
Our Mother
We now strive
To help you to revive
That all can prosper
And survive
Thank you
For teaching us
That every drop of water
Every blade and leaf
Every creature
Makes a difference
Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 10:37 AM UTC
Seed and soil
Water and light
Toil included
Day and night
Time and patience
Rise and repeat
Hope is planted
And Hope is reaped
Jan 14, 2021
Jan 14, 2021 at 3:30 PM UTC
What we did not see
From the dark fathom
Now a moment in time
Survived as proof
We can survive
Nov 21, 2020
Nov 21, 2020 at 3:39 PM UTC
Take away these brick and stones,
that we seek shelter in.
Take away the promises you once
pacified us all with.
Take away the blue skies above us,
and replace it with grey clouds.
Take away the land that your fraudulent
minds apparently amass.
Take away the nature which grew
it's roots deep into our souls.
Take away our property, wealth and trophies
that still reek of our sweat of ages.
Take away the media that we see
and blindfold her with injustice.
Take away but you can never take the soul
that keeps this land alive.
Take away but you can never take the knowledge
of your people.
Take away but you can't wipe the smile off
our children of soil.
Take away but we don't forgive nor forget.
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 2:23 AM UTC
The sun blares upon me,
as I gather my fruits
from the tree of life.
My body aches and
perspires and I go on,
picking them for my future.
The gloom of this mundane,
sets into my mind,
as I toil in the heat.
I yearn for the rain,
to come and cleanse
me of this toil
and let me enjoy,
the fruits.
Jun 13, 2020
Jun 13, 2020 at 9:18 AM UTC
enormous and graceful hands reached out
hands glistening with sweat and pain
pain from years of hard and intense toil
searching the world for his one authentic desire
the desire to save me....
me, the one item in his life that did not need saving
who is he to think that
who am I to refuse
Brian Hill - 2020 # 38
Feb 7, 2020
Feb 7, 2020 at 10:27 AM UTC
The summer sun's an auger drilling deep
To sap my will and hasten my decline,
And by the time night falls, I'll pray for sleep.
From when its faintest rays begin to creep
Beyond the long horizon's boundary line,
The summer sun's an auger, drilling deep.
When morning comes, I'll buy my living steep,
But living wilts me 'till I can recline
And by the time night falls, I'll pray for sleep
As if I died, as if I'd get to keep
The scrapings that I'd earned, as if they're mine.
The summer sun's an auger, drilling deep.
Each moment sowing seeds I'll never reap
Comes twisting down around my brain and spine -
And by the time night falls, I'll pray for sleep.
All wisdom, wits, and words ring hollow, cheap,
Some wilted offerings at a broken shrine.
The summer sun's an auger, drilling deep,
And by the time night falls, I'll pray for sleep.
Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 2:23 PM UTC
I know a man who locks himself inside
His head, his conversations, tucked away
Behind a maze of cheer. Each day, he's lied
A thousand times. He clocks out for the day
And, free but weary, sheds the mask for sleep.
I start the day with coffee, bitter, black,
Which suits my mood just fine. I earn my keep,
then turn around and give until I lack.
The coffee doesn't last, and by the end
I've found myself a stronger, harder drink.
I watch him bottle workdays up, my friend,
And brew himself instead. I'd like to think
We both get by. That doesn't do much good.
This place devours us and drinks our blood.
Jun 26, 2019
Jun 26, 2019 at 11:41 AM UTC
Dust, dust, infernal dust:
Mocked! Mortality mocked!
Toil, toil, burdensome toil,
procrastinator born.
I don't see, it's still clean.
I don't see, I don't care.
I don't see, just the wind.
Oh no! Now I see,
I cannot unsee, woe is me!
Dust, dust, infernal dust,
with vacuum be gone!
Toil, toil, burdensome toil,
Adam's curse, is there no escape?
May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 6:11 AM UTC
Hearts polished like porcelain
Shined so peers perceive no flaw
Then placed upon the shelf
Perfectly perched and priced
And in struts the buyer
Fresh from running with the humans
A mass of muscle, tail swaying slightly
Hooves as shiny as the horns
Brandishing upon its neck
A great ruby scarf
Won in a fierce and frantic fight
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 7:14 AM UTC
Now that you’ve been sold, what thing
will bring you back to us?
Arches of waver-lust, departuregrams
inform those on the freeway lam
and send us crashing gates and exit maps
as transit days dump rain
and what we know we’re in for gets too big.
Hurry to racing pits,
a bit of shelter huddled under heatlamps
pecked with pigeon dust & and odd late chills
that cracked the April. Plucky in
the clothing bone, we shiver, bide,
relent from marking make-up time
on coldwire sheets
We fold
and put work in our purse all wrong.
Some smarmy song New Yorks us, whinging on
where rent wars rage. Code-shifting blocks
of solace to the kept while crushing
others under debt - a glacial chill,
a respite, magnet phones left smartless,
calling on our wits
to ride those twists
through money-makers’ gauntlet.
Out of harm’s way, donning gowns
and Never’s hand-me-downs from
Stalling Leisure, Merry Ways - cinch up
and see what stays, what juice
the cosmic strain can free
when anger walls re-tighten down
to shape, or **** without a sound.
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 10:27 AM UTC
I put her to sleep every morning with the birds.
My little blanket darling.
She sleeps while I brave the worlds agony.
My sweet blanket darling.
One day, her eyes told me stories of solitude.
She never actually slept while I was away.
Her eyes showed fatigue and weary.
My poor blanket darling.
Now she's laughing away the responsibility of her promise.
My little blanket darling ran away.
Our hearts are frozen in time from the moment.
My blanket darling lives on in my dreams forever.
While her body lay in the mental institution.
I lay her away.
As I steadily go insane.
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 7:18 AM UTC
I toil away everyday
I rise in the early morn
I feel my youth slip away
And life away from me flow.
I work like a mule
I get paid like a dog
I serve snakes
Who think we are all cogs.
And why do this?
Why cut my life short?
For Meaning? Boredom? Love?
It´s for freedom, freedom and nothing more.
To break away from the machine
To break out in my own path
The hope of it keeps me alive
As I toil my life day and night.
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 3:31 PM UTC