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William Eberlein Feb 2013
Oh, how they war.
The small soldiers of Thought and Action,
in the dome of my mind.

Who will win the battle,
to go down in history?

All for and nothing more
than for a thing once said...
Or a thing once done.
Mary Zollars Oct 2017
Before I looked forward, I looked at the sky
I looked at birds whose numbers will die
I looked at the plane threatened with tragedy
I observed the moon conquered by humanity

Before I looked forward, I looked to my right
I looked at the gas stations that filled me with fright
I saw the grass littered with trash
I looked at the stores begging for cash

And before I looked forward, I looked to the ground
I looked at the bubblegum blackened and browned
I saw the asphalt crumbling fast
I looked at the coal which once was vast

So before I looked forward, I looked right behind
I looked at the coal burnt sky drifting high
I saw the foundations of our nations
I looked at people ignoring the implications

Then I looked up, and I looked straight forward
I looked for an end to all our horrors
I saw that soon it would all be done
And I looked forward, and I saw the sun.
I am not worried about the past
Because I don’t live there anymore
I invested in the future
That’s where my heart wants to go
Richard B Shick Jun 2018
Why do we self destruct,
When we're so close to our goals.

Some find it hard to interpret,
Why  others  seem to know.

We can be our worst enemy,
Our souls seem
filled with doubt.

We must continue on our journey,
It's what Life's all about.

Conquering all our emotions,
Conquering all our fears.

Sometimes for a brief moment,
While other times it takes many years.

Never giving up,
Always pushing forward.

Never losing hope.
Never being cornered.

Our journey will be long.
So always stay true to our self.

Never giving up on hope,
BY placing
our struggles upon a shelf.

Always keep pushing forward
No matter
how hard it gets.

And keep on living life,
With love and no regrets.


Written by
Richard B Shick
sara Jan 27
I'm writing less
but posting more,
confusing what's
sure and unsure.
I'm missing windows
and shutting doors;
in vain, for all that's been before.
f o r w a r d
Bharathi Devi Aug 2015
I can say I will climb the highest mountain for you,
But the highest I have climbed may be my neighborhood tree!
I can sing I will swim the deepest ocean with you,
But I always swam at the shallow end of the pool!
I can say I will run a marathon with you,
But, since I always walked, I may continue doing that.
I can say every day I will write a poem for you,
But, the last poem I wrote backfired magnificently.
So, all I can say is if I started it, and if you want it,
I will carry it forward as far as a human like me could…

©Bharathi Devi
Whittney May 2018
open the door and lift your flip flop over the threshold
One step takes you to where you can’t look back
Snap off the rear view mirror like a pull tab on a soda can
and block out your peripheral vision
So you can’t Contemplate turning around
Or flashing your eyes to the side
The second step is easier as long as you don’t trip over your regrets
Sam the lynx Feb 14
Take me with you,
back to land of dreams.

Where you’re queen,
and I your king.

Your sweetest voice,
guiding me home.

Don’t leave me behind,
let’s escape our torment.

Together forever,
until we wither away,

my blossoming viola.
Chris Slade Dec 2018
I’ve O’D’d on Glucosamine Sulphate, so much I’m mentally scarred.
It’s escalated now I’m 70… I’ve mainlined on my Senior Railcard…
I bow down to the Norse God Voltarol… He eases all my pains…
and there’s Deep Heat, Germaloids, even Anusol for the other stresses and strains.

The wondrous Winter Fuel Allowance! That’s what lights our lamp these dark days - ahh, those twilight hours!
But after the logs, it’s not Leccy or Gas we crave? No! We buy ***** with ours…
the Whisky, Gin, *****, Wine, a drop of Brandy too. It all helps us numb the cold
whilst memories of happier times gone by - brighten up this ****** growing old.

Supplements, sterols, statins, aspirin, beta blockers… All the heart meds - life’s a battle.
In the 60s it was *** and Drugs and Rock ’n’ Roll… Now there’s less *** and a lot more rattle!
****** fails to make it now - “no more”, after the last time - she said!
These days the only thing it does is stop me rolling out of bed!

The bus pass lets me roam the world… from John O’Groats to Land’s End.
But these days I travel locally Southwick, Lancing, Steyning; oh yeh and a cousin in far Gravesend.
Further afield; abroad perhaps? Well no…Back then it was Newhaven for the Continent.
But now I’m over 70, well, it’ll just be Worthing for the INCONTINENT!

And… did I say? Not that I was ever in the habit of measuring it you understand - or straightening out the kinks
I’m pretty sure that these days - and ’no’ it’s NOT just the cold… but, your once adequate **** - it shrinks!

I'm sorry...Your *******! It ain't so long!
First poem I read in public as a poetry ******... It went well enough for me to decide that I would do it again.
Matt Shaw Sep 10
Damming myself from the silent omen
That slips off the skin of the brave and broken
I miss the way my skin was last spring
I miss the things I'll never be
I twitch in the sunlight and stare
I will never be a king

Hang love up in the open air,
You were never meant to be just a wall
On your windowsill,
Chips of bone and broken teeth from last fall.

My son was born to be a warrior
Busting through time
Woven from nothing
Kitt Jul 2017
The Wheel of Time continues on
the damning repetition of a spindling Journey
slaving away on the Wheel's unforgiving madness
caught on the Spokes of Eternity,
just a piece
an arc hardly arching in the grandness
hardly varying in the vastness of forever
your entire Existence contained in a Segment
of the Wheel that drives us
Driah Jan 23
The sun sets upon another day
She looks up at the stars and contemplates
Why her? Why make her go through such things?
And what would she have to do to change it?
Unbeknownst to her, the stars were listening
And answered her pleas
They sent her faith and hope
Faith that she would see a better future
And hope to drive her towards it
Now she looks forward instead of up
Forward to the future she deserves
This was made by my boyfriend, and I thought I should share it.
CK Baker Jan 2017
I can’t wait
to be a hundred
turning over the thoughts
and plots
of Caledon
on Zimmer inserts
and dusted Florsheims
three steps forward
in a dream woven
summer afternoon

Through the
barn doors
and bee keeper flats
assimilating voices
from Sachems
and Forbes
and Hope Healers
coming and going
as the countryman
and goes

You can feel it
in a place like this
the 3 in the tree memories
from Allis Chalmers
to combine parts
of Sundrim poppers
to shallow carp fields
the patterned lawsons
and fading caulk
(on ripped and rolled
frontier seats)

it’s a wishing well
for the peddler
and bold hydrangea...
both peeking their way
the rusted
grinders wheel
Arke Aug 2018
do not read this poem
it is not made for you
this poem is a secret untold
of a memory I rarely think of
that was resurrected today
and I am the only one who knows it
and this poem is for me alone

I was maybe 5 years old and I both
do and don't remember her falling
spilling out of the giant porch window
like a slippery black fish out of water
and I do and don't remember seeing blood
on the snow and sidewalk and the sound
first of the fall, then someone opening the door
and I didn't understand where she went
instead, I stayed with my grandmother
who told me it was my fault she jumped
she didn't love me any more and I was bad
that she wouldn't be back for me
and I believed it, of course, it made sense
some of us are just born wicked, I knew
I have always been wretched, inhumane
she said she first noticed the evil in me
when I was very little, behind my dead eyes
that it was always there inside of me
so I knew the only way to rid myself
of my own evil was to do the same thing
she had done, all those years ago
so I wrote a letter and labelled it
Do Not Read
the last letter I ever thought I'd have to write
and it's a sad sort of irony that I would be
paying homage to someone who hated me so
but the black fishes and spirits from beyond
never came for me, and I wondered if
the worst punishment of all would be
to continue to be haunted and survive
just as she had all those years ago
sara Jun 2018
I stopped waiting for letters which never arrived;
when it started costing me minute per mile;
per smile;
per song that I'd skip for a while.
Making it rain with my valuable time
-wearing a coat in the summer time.

Stopped avoiding my postbox,
to the relief of my landlord,
and happily paid the bills so long ignored.
Drank less, ate more,
much more- self-assured
with one less page in my passport.

I stopped "letting you know,"
popping up,
"just to say hello,"
and "wondering if you fancied coming
or going
to some place relatively unknown."

Cleaned out my head;
cleared out my lungs;
wrote once again, for myself, just for fun;
listened to every song on the album;
all whilst lying naked
underneath the summer sun.
About 10 months ago I moved to Thailand for my studies- had such a massive year this year and learned so much about self love and happiness  ^.^
This piece is from the second journal in my trip
Nathalie Aug 31
Crossing paths with him
was fate; a piece of
the puzzle in my life
that I had yet to find
Only I had not a clue
of what was incomplete
before that whimsical
day when his
eyes looked right
into mine
A familiar feeling rose
to light from which my
soul overflowed with
dormant memories
of love to share...

I was tired today.
A long night it was.
He tossed and turned.
I tossed and turned.
The room was hot.
The room was cold.
It seemed the sun rose too soon.

Up the stairs
With Creaky knees.
At least the left hip is not sore yet.
Mind over matter, "Walk. Walk. Walk!"
Commanding myself to Step on the floor surely.
Keep going
Just a few more steps.
Keep it up,"Walk, walk, walk!"
Keep moving hip!
Maybe the pain will go away.

Why am I so sore?
Louis Hayes says,
"Fear of going forward in major decisions.
Nothing to move forward to."
Hum, is this really so?

Yes, I do feel like I am being still.
After all, it doesn't hurt when I am still.
Or does it?

Yet, I keep moving
In spite of my musings.
It is interesting what comes up in my mind when I am sitting still through pain.
Poetry comes at the end of the day
When the lights are turned low
And the sun goes away

A poet writes best in the mid-afternoon
With birds in the trees
and mud on the boots

A poet rises in the morning
Even if it might be storming
Oh we write in the rain, if it be pouring

A poet thinks in the evenings
Because we write better when dreaming
And because sometimes
it's better than sleeping

A poet cherishes every part of their day
Beacause each one is never the same.
Writing poetry means you can leave the ground
And never have to come back down
Sam Jul 2018
|A sequel to 'Firefly days'|

Now it seems to me
that there's nothing I could be
if going back to past
is something I would dream.
I miss all those days
and forever it will stay
as memories in my head
to comfort me
in times of gray.
Today isn't just another day
this is a new day
to create a history
along with the mysteries
that leads me to a victory.
I should think of today.
Though I lost many
back that 'days',
I realized that things
do change
and forever will be.
Today I will work hard.
Today I won't be sad.
Today I'll ease the pain.
Today I'll do things right.
Today I will be change,
but still I will be me.
Today is a new start
to stroke the brush
and paint an art
This is the golden age
of living bright and free.

Noises in Mind, Copyright © 2014
Sam N. de la Rosa
All rights reserved.
It's not wrong to reminice but, still, focus on the things in front of you. There you'll find bright ember.
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