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Ralph Akintan Feb 2019
Whirlpool of whirling quaint
Inequality brewing in the
Winepress of smithereens
Fragile polity.
Voices of weariness cried
Out from the wasteyard of
Waste for succour,
Pointing fingers of
Recrimination towards
The abyss of drouth ,
Entangled in conflicts
Of interest.

Winds of improvised emblem
Bearing hunchback of
Woes,
Raising hands from the
Drowning deep sea
For rescue like
A dejected beautiful
Vigaro in a
Turbulent ocean of quarrel
With her spouse.

Whereas reddish fluids of life
Runs across the same veins
And arteries of haves
And haves-not but
Cottage of interests
Hoisting avalanche of
Rainbow-coloured flags
Standing aloof on the
Pole of misrule,
Demarcating their interests.

No accommodation for wants
In the corridor of affluence.
Wants on a trade mission
With wealthy but caged in
The confinement of wealth.

Winds of inequality blew
Whirler of wants into
The marrow of the
Haves-not.
Rains of inequality passing
Through a lockage of lack
Into the improvised,
Doling-out poverty to
Gain the control of
Wealth.

Alas! Blindness sees inner
Vision of darkness from
The households of political
      lamia.
Alas! Deafness hears
Discordant vague voices
Of failure from the forest
      of frustration.
Alas! Dumbness speaks
Language of gnomes out
Of the vale of forgotten
      treasures.
Alas! A four year tenancy
      turning into decades
      of challenges.

But we shall revive our hope
      and raise our voices
            tomorrow.
Terry O'Leary Jan 2014
as the PROPHETS of profits, WE lead and WE’re fair
while WE’re living the life of the poor BILLIONAIRE
– silver yachts, pearly castles, cash (plenty to spare) –
with the world on OUR backs... ah! the burdens WE bear!

being HAVES (not the have-nots) as nature decrees
means WE’re certainly the better (they’re vermin on ******).
if they pray for a lift in their dark fantasies,
WE just kick ’em downstairs, get ’em off of their knees.

yes, WE offer great jobs (much too busy OURSELVES!)
for maintaining the toilets, restacking the shelves,
and WE teach ’em to fear god and play with the elves,
thus dispelling ideas where the dark demon delves.

though they build mighty bridges, twin towers and more,
peddle pizzas and popcorn, sell guns door-to-door,
still they gotta have BOSSES to tell ’em the score
else WE’d never be needed, WE’d thrive nevermore.

when OUR profits are plunging, they do their part too
for they dine on the dole! yes, no hullabaloo!
soon OUR fortunes  redouble, rebound and accrue –
since WE fare well without ’em, WE bid ’em adieu.

’stead of wishing for welfare and standing in queues
or parading with pickets (look! holes in their shoes!),
they’d be better off scabbing to save union dues.
while WE whistle and warble, they’re singing the blues.

whether heroes or hoboes, like spiders and lice
they just crawl all around us in life’s paradise,
but WE’re patient, big hearted and oft sacrifice,
spewing charity, kindness (though each has its price).

if they’re beaten or punctured or suffer assault,
are unhealthy or crippled or walk with a halt,
or ******* or helpless, it’s all their own fault –
just like US they should worship the DOLLAR exalt’!

protesters and loud mouths, you’ll find ’em aplenty
some older, some younger, the worst not yet twenty.
they’re shameless and brazen (unwashed, soiled and scenty)
impugning the prestige of brave COGNOSCENTI.

if they’ve got clashing colors (or shades in between)
or opposing beliefs in the hidden unseen,
well, WE’ll always exploit it, deflecting their spleen,
for with god on each side, would WE dare intervene?

WE maintain many methods to keep ’em in chains –
daily rags and the tube spin OUR circus campaigns:
“to pretend you’ve a voice”, an announcement explains,
“you can vote and decide on which ONE of US reigns”.

OUR policemen protect US, they stay on the ball
(they arrest ’em, no questions per law’s protocol,
and then jam ’em in jail with their backs to the wall) –
if you’ve lucre for lawyers there’s justice for all.

down the ROYAL road of justice WE march all alone
– WE condemn their defiance, set ways to atone –
since WE’re sinless, unsullied, WE cast the first stone
(while WE cloak REGAL fetor with eau de cologne).

politicians, bald bankers, grand idols galore,
attend meetings, fete banquets in which they explore
how to rid US of rodents (the weak and the poor) –
well, just round up the riff-raff, dispatch ’em to war!

ah! OUR wars are, well, just...... just a thing of the past
........... and the present............... and future... WE sure make them last!
if they frown as they gaze (Armageddon!) aghast,
then WE smile back with pleasure, OUR treasures amassed.

useless ranting and raving (in rags, when they’re clad),
leads to losing their teeth (my! their gums are... egad!).
WE’re unselfish, indulgent, WE’d never be mad
if they drowned in the sounds of themselves feeling sad.

as the paupers are princes in midnight’s domain,
they have pipe dreams to lose, certainly nothing to gain
if they’re hoping OUR fortunes will wither and wane –
for “WE’re here by god’s will” as WE often explain.

yes, they wish to be US, with OUR wisdom and grace,
keeping up with ol’ CROESUS, maintaining the pace.  
but perverseness or rancor? they’ll see not a trace –
for WE hold ’em at bay with a fist in the face.

WE’re la CRÈME de la CRÈME, yes! the proud UPPER CRUST,
and OUR clothes are the finest, OUR hair never mussed –
WE imbue ’em with piety, duty and trust
and they’re fed bread and water (if feed ’em WE must).

but they’re thieving, aggrieved, want a piece of OUR PIE
and request WE endure ’em, see EYE to black eye.
since they live in OUR land where OUR strict rules apply,
they must feast on the crumbs that We cast to the sty.

though OUR largesse and bounty WE don’t mean to flaunt,
yet the pittance WE pay ’em they surely can vaunt –
salty peanuts and pretzels (what more could they want?)
thereby keeping their kiddies so healthily gaunt.

yes, there’s room for the rabble (the back of the bus)
’cause WE treat ’em like equals, so what’s all the fuss?
all can rise to the top (yes! it’s always been thus),
to the suites in OUR penthouse (to sweep up and dust).

while OUR CHILDREN have tutors, the finest of schools
(being bred for the forefront, THEY’re nobody’s fools),
their own school of hard knocks teaches: “follow the rules”,
building brawn ’stead of brains and broad backs strong as mules’.

and to keep ’em in line (to ensure WE prevail)
WE now monitor phone calls and read all their mail
(civil rights? what a notion! at best a detail!)
and if worse comes to worst...... well...... guantanamo jail!

WE’ve OUR quandaries and questions and headaches full blown
(like deciding design and decor of OUR throne...
whether diamonds or rubies... to gemstones WE’re prone) .
when WE deign to appease ’em, WE chuck ’em a bone.

now you know all OUR problems, OUR pains and travails
– like preparing foreclosures, evictions  and sales –
but WE’ve no need for worries or gnawed fingernails,
’cause WE’re sailing OUR yachts through tempestuous gales
(with them bailing OUR banks when OUR stock market fails)
sipping daiquiri sours, champagnes, ginger ales.
:-)
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Do you really think
everything you
see and touch or
love with such care
Has your name on it
   *      *      *      *      
*Divinity meet the Great

     *      *      *      *      
Lifetimes healing two freaking amazing feet


The house Mr. and Mrs.
   I suppose?
I double dare them
Great Play "Domino"
Where art thou freaking
match
Lover of all time Romeo

Prince and the Pauper her lovely
peasant dress the big catch of the day
This is the fisherman
All hooks and bait of
workmanship
The naked play Julliete
begin
So totally wherein

The spiritual home
never doubt I love

Shakespearian historian
Two Love DovesVictorain
Spiritual growth

Unconditionally
Freaking Great Earth

Defines your passion
The best creation your birth
Our defeat nothing turns
automatically sweet

This is our
"Great Expectations"

What to value anymore
Constitution versus the
Freaking Show Institution

Full bloom maturity growing
adventure unknown
On the same wavelength
He still dresses the same
In the Same town
New York Serendipity
Ice cream cookie dough mix the
freak shakes

That's great no time for breaks
The Baskin sin Robbins
Robin Bob Bobbin

People are not surviving
Their world is too weak
They cannot stretch to hold

The French connection kiss
fourteen carats of gold
Making a rise in good stock
Cattle sold
The Trump Tower fall out stars
The great year for puzzles

The worlds are full of moments
when we shouldn't be laughing
Not a great time he meets your
sadness
Round star of tears kindness

In her movement happiness walk
The worst times bring out her
   freaky nature  

Never aches either to change
Furniture looks modern cold
freaking great hot she was told

To be bonded in a marriage
Feeling older like her antique
wicker baby carriage
Eiffel tower the powerful
romance hour meeting her
happy hour

He is shopping for suits
Going back to his Brooklyn roots
smells of food feeling good

Getting into someone's mind
Meet Robin Hood
If I can turn back time the vessel
The Joker wild fossil

Like a freaking booker
there is no guarantee
The Suspense is killing me
don't freak out

Not paying your rent on-time
Those specks marked up your glasses
Time passes but your making a
spectacle of yourself


Imagine the world all alone
Brillantina smiling at
the Mona Lisa petite ballerina
Great Professor brother
Freaking out sister
Two-headed circus the Freakshow  
The haves or
the have-nots week went slow

The trees someone's apple poison
Gives someone such pleasure
companion what a complicated
mission

  Too deeply dwell in the possibilities

Each morning we are born again
Broke some blood capillaries
Or time will tell the Vampire Diaries

Tomorrow is another day
How you wish every day was payday

Almond eyes creaminess
The pick-up color of your dress
What is curdling freaky spooking
No time to Hail the Mary
Milk Soy what a cute
little miracle boy

Even talking on your
Light up tree ringtones
Out of your comfort
high cheekbones
Egyptian Camels sandstorm
Kiss your Mother just feel

His smile fireplace candescent
With your lover, he could
paint your body how
time just went in a heartbeat

The world is moving but
you're losing some gravity
But he lifts some parts
Sinking your teeth into the
best corn on the cob

Medieval times his
sword is taking
Anew freaking shape
Emerging and peeking out
Hair is French braided fine
knotted

He zooms out freaking great
one of a kind Corvette
Calling to you your name
He told the world
standing like a God
We are all freaking great
  
Poets* Just start to know it
This is freaking great or not we laugh sometimes when things aren't funny but that's okay we need to move on and make it the better day even if our prayers are not answered its in our hearts the best parts are you-you are the freaking great
Del Maximo May 2010
mortality's taste is bittersweet
as death's brush paints life's new lease
impressionistic could haves, should haves, would haves
minimalist suprematism shapes dreams
surrealistic hopes
time's urgency hammered home by temporal clarity
top 10 lists glazed to topography
as future blends to present amid trees
a familiar CICU
a family gathering
beds with tubes and wires
monitors flashing and beeping
refreshing past's distance
with updated parking prices
will the ending be the same?
© May 31, 2010
Eryck Apr 2018
I try this job
         I try that      
         they tell me
         That's not where I'm at
"Your not college grade material."
"Try a trade school."
         I feel the fool
        down- and- out sad
         I get the same
         from me mom and dad
"Some times tryings  not enough if your not smart enough."  "You'll have to work two jobs to everyone else's one."
          I slog on
         Shuffle my feet
         Beat the streets
         to The work man's beat
"Good jobs are for others, take what you can get." "Don't expect a lot out of life and you'll be fine."
         I try my best
         ain't good enough
         Hurled in the world
         where it's rough and tough
"Get you a bus pass and some free government cheese."  "You'll get ***** hands and need a strong back."
          Food, rent, clothes, life
          On minimum pay
          No way no way
          can this work day to day
"Find a roommate, sell your blood, collect cans, get to love 29 cent ramen noodles, you'll  be o.k."
           Thousands upon thousands
            In every city
            Ain't  pretty, real ******
            And zero pity
"Sorry but there's the "haves and the "have nots", welcome to the lousy end." "Buck up, other countries  are worse."
            While the rich get richer
             and the poor get poorer
             How did surviving in
             America
             Become such a horror
"Your the working class, blue collar, the modern day slave, get used to it. Now shut up and get back to work!!"
I was driving along the M4
Mind wandering when I saw
The Chrysler 300C
That you used to drive.

I remember walking past the car
Every morning
And dreading seeing you
And falling for you again.

But today was different
There was no pain
No memories cutting my mind
Missing you.

I was numb
Body and soul turning blue
Choking on my regrets.
Lindsey Cira Feb 2013
left from misplaced lovers
lead many different lives
capture the trinkets and
hide them in the bottom
drawer until spring
cleaning once a year
a time capsule of could haves
and should haves

in the heat of the dual
we want to pass the necklace
to his hand or drop it like
a love note floating into
a grand canyon
swimming in the deep blue
of blue jean pockets
until a deep sea diver
finds the treasure

selling the metal for some
change will not put a red
sold sign on his forehead
for another to take away

i put the key to my heart
on a chain  under my pillow
so i will not lose it while
you are away
Thandiwe Mar 2014
Since then...I allowed my heart to take whatever form it wanted.
I trusted the process, letting the heart mould itself as it is supposed to.
I had ample faith that the end is far....little did I realise the end is right next to me.

At first, it felt like a bulldozer had savaged my entire being.
Your words left my mind empty, without a way forward.
A deep grave of hate slowly formed...that is where you would end up.
As appetizing the thought...I want nothing to do you.
Even you residing in my den of enemies is not worth it.
I have done a thorough clean up of hoodlums and heartbreakers like you.
You seem so pointless. This anger towards you is pointless.

I look forward to the treasures that will bloom from this. I'm convinced there are treasures.
You have no hold over my dreams and I refuse to allow my heart to slump in your filth.
It was hard, felt like the world was dumped on my shoulders, soul dark and heavy, mouth dry and tears flooding my living room.
But after a serious self-talk....I remembered my worth, remembered you mean nothing to me....you have no hold on my destiny.
The love you spoke of was and is fake. I don't need it.

I don't need that sort of make-believe love which has no truth...
The kind that loves the idea of love...yet despises love itself.
I have no place for thieves and liars....robbers and fakes.
My mind keeps telling me this is for the best and that better days are to come.

I feel sorry for the one you chose, she knows nothing of your hoodlum ways and smooth tongue.
Coated with every lie possible yet disguised with a fake-romance finish.
She knows not of your empty heart...
your inability to be real...
your other side...
your effortless ways of hurting another...
precious time which meant zero to you...
your exhausted yet experienced hands..
your over used 'I will wait for you'....
your conniving ways disguised by caring efforts...
your smile and charm packaged by pure deceit.

She is clueless. And so in love....I shake my head in despair for you dear sister.
I trust you will not endure the heartache I did.
I hope he will see you a better person than I.
I trust he repects you. Genuinely loves you.

She will bear the brunt of your heart smashing ways.
I am done and over the 'could haves & would haves'...
New day brings new opportunity.
Time to listen to my soul and feed my mind.
Re-enjoy the beauty of living and re-mind myself of may chosen path.
O'Reily Aug 2014
Always a man to believe,
Always a man to dream a dream,
Always a man it seems and it seems Always a man he breaks out,
Takes his chance Always a man.

Always a man significant,
Always a man he's brave and decent,
Always a man who haves and havenots,
Favours his chances Always a man


Always a man who believe's that he can't,
Always a man a deep thinker then shalt,
Always a man in no shadow of doubt
Always a man pours out sensible,
Learns his rights Always a man.

Always a man a gambler he can,
Always a man lived life and he won,
Always a man risk, twist, stick craps up his tricks,
Always a man watches his mind all about,
A beat to his dance Always a man.

Always a man Sinatra he sang,
Always a man with a dodgy plan,
Always a man that's for sure,
Always a man short sharp ponders out,
In any circumstance Always a man.

Always a man peaceful and proud,
Always a man targets his pay,
Always a man working harder each day,
Always a man in with a shout,
To no shadow of a doubt Always a man.

Always a man he drinks lemonade,
Always a man look what he made,
Always a man with his masquerade,
Always a man with his dollar and bill
Send him on as Always a man,

Always a man not paid what to do,
Always a man to figure a fool,
Always a man safe safe and he saved
Always a man in an ocean of shout.
Sailing calms a human Always a man.

Always a man with a God given skill,
Always a man with a will and a will,
Always a man who leads a private suitcase,
Always a man with a bit of clout,
Then angel shy silence 'Always a man'

Doctors Orders.

O'Reily@21082014
Thinking of You Jan 2013
I don’t want to die a repeated flame of the should haves, would haves, could haves, to live a life of potential that is never acted upon. I do not want to stand at the resounding end, after my heart has pumped it’s last liter of blood and my lungs have taken in their last gasp of air and wish I would have done more with the ones I had. Wish I had loved more, gave more, hoped more, allowed myself to dream more; about the possibilities and complexities of life. Refusing to settle for a life of ordinary and average. A life of the almost.
Idiosyncrasy Apr 2017
We were merely
could haves
should haves
and *would haves.
You are worth the risks. We will happen. /cab/late/kiss/home/
5/30
Jocelyn Robinson Mar 2014
America needs a poor, ***** mother for president.
We need a Muslim for vice president and a feminist to lead the army.
America needs a homeless man with no health insurance and AIDS to allocate food stamps,
gays to run the senate, and lesbians to run the house.

America needs a president who’s been shot at,
*****,
and ****** on his whole life.
A person who has held their dying child,
losing a battle that cancer has already won,
buried up to the knees hospital bills.

America should be run by a person that wakes up every morning with no heat or air conditioner.
Who has fought in a war,
shakes in the night,
and lives on minimum wage.
Someone who takes the bus,  the subway, and owns one pair of sneakers,
There is no time or money for anything else.

We need an inner city teacher for president.
Someone who spends 4 hours on Sundays preaching for president,
Just to go home and put on his wife's dress.

America needs a straight talker and a street walker to head the FBI.
An illegal for the CIA,
And a transgender for the DOJ.
But that will never happen.
What I have realized is that there is no longer a distinction between what is right, and what is real.

Real, is a leader is one that has been to the free clinic,
waited in line at the DMV,
and buys clothes from Walmart.
Real, is a president that is no stranger to violence.
A vice president who has been to county.
That has been fed jail food,
strip searched,
and wasted years that they will never get back.

We, the people do not fly around in private jets,
Puffing on Cuban cigars.
We, the people do not solely consist of old, rich men,
Making decisions for young, poor women.
Telling us what we can and can’t do.
Who we can and can’t love.
Widening the gap between the haves and haves nots.  

We the people know hard work,
We know blood,
We know sweat,
We know tears,
But what we do not know,
Is how to engage ourselves in the goings on in the world around us.
Take responsibility,
hold your own,
and question everything.
People that have it all think that
two halves make a whole
but I beg to differ.
I believe that
two haves make a hole.
Those that have it all
don't realize what they lack therefore
they have a hole.
F A Pacelli Apr 2019
my love burns brighter
when i must reach for my lover’s hand
my heart grows fonder
when the distance between us expands
my wants burn with desire  
while my haves are lost to the fire
Mike Hauser May 2014
Conspicuous Consumption
Look at all I have
I've got money burning
In this power grab
Between the haves and have nots
I'm one of the haves
Enjoying this life of luxury
Sitting in its lap

Conspicuous Consumption
Take a breath and breath in deep
Take as many as you want
Although this stuff ain't cheap
Money is no object
It means nothing to me
Now that you ask, yes Virginia
Money does grow on trees

Conspicuous Consumption
In this world of give and take
If it's no longer suitable
It becomes throw away
Even if you tire of it
No need for it to break
Conspicuous Consumption
The phrase of the day
taia Apr 2016
i ask for what i
know i can never possess
do i never learn?
There are tears that fall in the ocean
and tears that fall from the sky
there are tears on the faces of loved ones
don't ask me
I can't tell you why.

In this bltzkrieg I see only compulsion
and the desire to see so much more
In compulsion I see my destruction
Tell me
what is it all for?

I look but can't find
perhaps I am blind to what stares at me in the face
but the forest's no place to play hide and seek
it's so dark and so bleak
and the creaking of trees become the creaking of decks on lost ships on high seas
and I am so weak
can't be bothered to hide or to seek any more.
Tell me
what is it all for?

Is it the lust that burns deep within, for a pipe of tobacco and a pitcher of gin
and do I win when I win or is it the gin?
I lose some
choose some
confuse many
any one could
which brings me again to a knock on the wood for luck.
****..
..superstition time
yeah that'll do me real fine
let me throw down the runes in the ruin that I am
let me talk to the man up above
let him lend me some love
let it fit like a glove.
but send an umbrella
the tears will come
they always see
another self fulfilling prophesy
that ties me in knots and would haves and could haves and I have lots of excuses and ruses
and time on my hands
life's metal bands have put me in chains
Link by a link of the words in the ink and bound by a round about
where I never get out
to begin again and to sing again
caged birds
caged words
tired lions
in irons
all in the mess of a life.

I confess it's not good
in the forest you'd think I'd at least see the wood
but blind again
I find again
only the dead bits that fell onto dead ground
and round and round I go again.
Wipe away the history
     Of tomorrow!
Heavy lead lids
Covering
Coffee stained eyes
In the darkness
The yesterdays are
Revealed scintillating
Sprouting regret
Remorse digs deeper
With steel roots
Eating its way
In this chipped heart.
The flesh is stubborn
Bearing the scars
And the scabs
Of feelings no longer
Comprehended.

     **Undo the marching
     Of uncaring time!

Dead earthen soul
Descending
To new dimensions of
Uncharted abyss
Memories splinter
Fragmenting, dispersing
Millions of pieces
Of faces forgotten
Littering non-existence.
Gone is the season of life
Flashes of
Could haves
Or should haves
Or would haves
Scattered in lofty
Nothingness.

     *Set the unforgettable faces
     On fire
     The unfinished house,
     Burn that too down to ashes
     The fire is to devour
     Even the final hour.
     Bring on the fire
     To torch the desire
     Bring on the flames
     To set it all ablaze!
Tim Knight Apr 2013
She said she liked her coffee cold and dark
like the seas separating her bed and Denmark:

harsh and bitter and brown in the largest
cup we own, so when drinking it
your nose would drown
into an abyss of cheap-coffee-granule-
buy-one-get-one-free ****;

and delivered with it upon the stolen tray,
taken from that shop's Kitchen Must Haves display,
was a plate with two triangles of lightly toasted
toast laid out like the ankles of my late Grandma
(but we weren't together then so, to you,
it just looked like some toast arranged nicely on a plate for us two);

also on the stolen tray from that shop's Kitchen Must Haves display,
was a lovely array of cut of up fruit arranged liked
canapés at every cheap-wedding-buffet:
grapes cut into unfathomable shapes
and slices of kiwi our fingers could never negotiate
and avocado which was there just to cure invisible
weight gain and bad morning breath,
but that's what Google told me so
I can't take it as a guarantee;

and in all of this I was apparently making a fool of myself
because serving you a delicious breakfast
to the sound of Frank Sinatra's Moon River
is not what we discussed, ever- even last night or last week,
in fact, we never talked about this horrendously
unique breakfast.

Happy Anniversary.
Read fast.


from CoffeeShopPoems.com
Eliza Jane Oct 2013
it’s the night for an escape

for some book thievery,
some german sweat,
some silver eyes and hair like feathers

it’s the night to pretend that none of this happened, that no-one’s hurting or afraid, that i’m not equally filled with protective rage and ridiculously nauseating terror.

the could haves
should haves
would haves
they’re whispering evil lies inside my mind

oh yeah, it’s time to escape.
Krysel Anson Sep 2018
Clothes of all kinds
on the sidewalks
sold for crazy cheap prices.

Kids and old people alike
scramble fast towards through mountains
of bargains, this once inaccessible
and highly prized scene of Fashion sense,
separating the haves and the have-nots.

I was born with skin color, names, and belongings
that no longer made sense when the time came
to decide and become.  I ran to meet a friend at a corner
a long time ago when the Ukay surplus clothing stores
were just starting out.

He carried a plastic of hiking boots
and a pair of stylish jeans. Laughing and smiling
at the exchanges. A pair of running shoes
and a jacket that was already too big for a woman.
Thinking of You Sep 2015
Doubt
So easy to say.
So hard to get past.
I've always had a little bit of it reflected inwardly because I've never been able to attain the appearance I wanted. I've never been quite thin enough. My hair has never been quite long enough. My skin never quite clear enough. And because of this its caused me to doubt other areas. If I can't get in peak physical shape, what makes me think I can become financially independent?  Get a good job?  Start my own business? If I can't control something as simple as a complexion, hair follicle or calorie, how do I think I can take on the outside world?

It's the doubt that eats you.
It's the doubt that tucks you into your grave with the could haves because you cancelled yourself out.
You're problem is not in your thighs or uneven eyebrows. Your problem is you think they're your problem.

Stop taking yourself out.
You are worthy.
You are so. worth. loving.
Lucas Lowman Feb 2014
Do not live a life of have nots and what ifs
Of should haves, could haves, and would haves

A routine life is no life at all
So jump blindly into the void that is the future
And never look back

And with the loudening boom of a million voices scream at the face of uncertainty

Do not doubt us
For we do not doubt ourselves

We will be left smiling
Happy with the chances we took
the pitfalls we jumped
And the mountains we climbed
SE Reimer Jan 2016
~

bits and pieces,
lines and creases,
dusty shelves
of storied past;
where could-haves
turned should-haves,
make half-lives gone by.
haunt in our reticence,
expressed in our sigh;
they hide in our silence,
betrayed by our tears,
from missed opportunities
     down through the years.

this is no stroll
o’er memory’s lane,
but a ***-holed, hard-roll
on a boulevard unnamed,
     where deepest regrets
          must defend against shame.

~

i make my peace
by drawing a line,
before it can fade
shifting with time.
i say “enough!
this far and no more!”

i give it my heel
and walk out that door.
past the garden,
past the fences,
to the edge of my mind,
resolve saying, “goodbye”  
      to this pain i have known.

then for reasons unfathomed
i turn at the bend,
to see what i'll miss
as if that place were my friend,
yet that house where i lived
so long and knew well,
was standing no longer,
up in smoke, gone in flames,
     now just ashes and bricks
          are all that remained.

~

so homeless i felt,
with no place to return.
no basement to bury
the ghosts of my past;
no attic to wander,
no hallways to creep,
no corners to ponder,
no front porch to weep,
lost without home,
     now no pillow to sleep.

“please turn around,”
spoke, a voice on the breeze
“there's a new life ahead”
and then, to my relief,
“you're not homeless, my son;
you’ve a new windowed view!
square your shoulders
to the pathway,
see the journey anew!
in promising thoughts
so hopefully wrought
of brand new can-be’s
that only dreamers can see
these, are your new life
you're not abandoned, but free.
     let regrets turn to fuel
          build steam from this fire.”


~

as i turned back to thank
the voice offering these words
i found no sage of advice
but here’s what i heard.
"offer thanks to your own heart,
to strength buried within.
the matches lay dormant
’til your heart found its stremgth.
the mere act of leaving
was the spark for your fire;
     for in striking your new path
          your past built your pyre.”


~

*post script.

after much stirring, much wrestling, we are now with anticipations imagining what will change as we light the fire.  i’m excited about the possibilities as we let go.
Anika Nelson Jun 2018
How is it that some people are able to get over someone whom they “loved” in a matter of days?

It took me weeks,
Months,
Years,
And a whole new coat of skin,
Just to have a day where his name didn’t cross my mind.

I continue to wait,
To remember,
To change the could haves,
The would haves,
And the should haves.
All for a different ending.

I wish you could take me back to the first day.
Simplicity.
You,
Me,
And a bus.

Magic was made in the most unusual place, yet it transformed me into someone I wish I could be again.

When I told you I loved you,
I wasn’t lying.

My tongue will only speak those words truthfully to you.
My lips, forever yours.

Until my new coat of skin.
Random *** poem about my depressing heart break ✌
Cedric McClester Apr 2015
By: Cedric McClester

The ruling oligarchy
Says it’s middle-class malarkey
To suggest they differ starkly
When it comes to the poor
Whom the rich try to ignore
Cos the haves now want more
Than they ever did before

The strong vanquish the weak
As the oil prices tweak
To the stratosphere they seek
And the profits are obscene
As they pick our pockets clean
That’s why most of us are hurtin
Not the case with Haliburton

Bush is a disgrace
But he does support his base
They’re the rich – in any case
We have challenges to face
And we are gettin queasier
Cos it’s not getting easier

Now we hear
The Green House gases
Threatens all our *****
But the legislation passes
That deregulates the gases
Which pollutes the atmosphere
That’s why global warming’s here

Bush is a disgrace
But he does support his base
They’re the rich – in any case
We have challenges to face
And we are gettin queasier
Cos it’s not getting easier

The ruling oligarchy
Says it’s middle-class malarkey
To suggest they differ starkly
When it comes to the poor
Whom the rich try to ignore
Cos the haves now want more
Than they ever did before


(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.
The haves have.
The have nots want.
Waste not want not.
Have nots have not to waste?
Haves waste and want not.
Who wants have nots?
Haves want not.
ANGELINA

By Williamsji Maveli

Waking up next morning  in a fairy dream
She is swimming **** in the water  stream
an adorable, elegant, celestial beauty
She is in her teens  looking  naughty
Seeing her own innocence and perfection
I convert her into verses with an inspiration
Sweet, seductive, natural,
She is tempting, shy,
desirable,  admirable
my own
ANGELINA
wandering  next night  along the sea shore
She is feeling the touch of  the waves roar
She  has particular tastes, talents
Things have to be just right for moments
And one of her must-haves is a pool
Where she can enjoy the tides of cool
lovely, elogant, ******
She is sensual, seductive
innocent, adorable
my own
ANGELINA

By Williamsji Maveli

www.williamsji.com
The Kallettumakara Gblobal Association (KGA), UAE Chapter has announced their first poetry award for excellence to Williamsji Maveli's  third  poetry collection   titled as “Arramviralthumbath …”  (On the tip of the 6th finger,  published by H & C Books, Trichur) .The award has been declared  by Mathew David, Chairman of KGA at their Executive Committee meeting held recently in Sharjah Emirate of United Arab Emirates.  The award has  also been considered for his poetic works scattered in his recently published book named  as “Maa Salama."  ( means "With peace"  in Arabic). The poems have been gathered from different desert sketches,  focusing on his real-time life experiences ,while he was working in UAE for more than 30 years.  Williamsji, (Williams George),   former Ras Al Khaimah based Journalist and lyricist of tester-years has been nominated for a literary award for the first time for literature. The Award is being formulated by KGA  (Kallettumkara Global Association, UAE Chapter) for  outstanding contributions to literature  from the native writers  of Kallettumkara,  a village town in Trichur, Kerala in India.  The award will be presented by the KGA’s UAE Chapter on the grand occasion of their 11th anniversary, which is being scheduled to be held during November, this year,
according to Mathew David, Chairman of Kallettumkara Global Association.
www.kallettumkara.net

Related Links:

www.williamsgeorge.com
www.williamsji.com
www.moonmakers.com
Remy Luna May 2017
One
I'm sorry.  
Of course, you'll never know it.
I'm writing poems to a ghost by proxy, 
Gone before you even had fingernails or looked like a
Tangible thing and not some alien parasite.  

I heard once
That a soul can't inhabit a body
Until it takes the first breath of
Oxygen into it's lungs,
And if that's the case,
I'm sorry I stole the taste from you.

Two
I built a monument for your martyrdom
In the city of my thoughts, somewhere
Between the Relationship Trauma District,
And Motherhood Gardens.
It is a bronzed sunflower held in a mangled fist.
Your older sister takes me there in her laughter.

Three
You have to understand,
The man that put us both in this predicament
Didn't know how to keep his hands to himself
Or know how to fight his own demons without drawing
Someone else's blood trying to shadowbox with them.
How could I choose to potentially
Give him the opportunity to ever draw yours?  

Four
I'm sorry that we were careless,
Played Russian roulette with a loaded pistol
One by one slid five bullets between six chambers,
Haphazardly I spun the cylinder.
Placed the barrel to the roof
Of my mouth for good measure
Pulled the trigger, heard the faint click
Of my future, and then it was his turn.
I didn't think through the repercussions of
Lying in a grave before it had even been dug.  
Sharing blame and co-dependency
Intrinsically fed off of each others pain,
We entwined and made something out of hatred,
And I'm sorry that was you.

Five
Even now I hear myself say these words and,
It sounds selfish parading itself as selfless
Why didn't I say no or protect myself with
Contraceptives or just not have *** with him?
******* adoption, HELLO?
Or at the very least swallow.  Right?  
Right. I blame myself a lot too, there's really no
Reason to tell me things I already scream
At myself about inside of my head.  
Or is it my mother's voice?  I can't tell anymore.
She had a lot of opinions about you,

Six
There are so many hoops I had to jump through,
Contortionist poses to assume, to do this.
I'm sorry it's the most flexible I've allowed
Myself to be in all my life.
But,
Do not think I didn't mourn you.

Seven
For  years after I will run my palm over my stomach
And feel the concave of your absence inside of me
The less than, The empty
A hollow cavern that crumbled bit by bit, eroded by
Wave after wave of guilt in hightide
During a tropical storm,  
The malestrom that howled within now
Only taunts me anymore, with a constant hum,
The echoes of the pitter-patter
Of a light rain. The heartbeat I only heard once.

Eight
Would you hold me in a different light
If I told you that despite
All the darkness surrounding how I feel
About it, I don't regret the choice?  
Lamentful, burdened with
Would-haves and could-haves
But rooted in affirmations, knowing full well
That the heartache would have been far worse
For everyone in the long run,  

Nine
That I feel like I saved you.
That I feel like I saved both of us.
I'm sorry.

Ten
Sorry.
The word  falls from my lips like a void purport
To a forgiveness that I will never receive.
Meg Dec 2015
Let's call a *****
A *****,
Shall we?
Let's stop
The games
The deception
The lies
The could haves
       should haves
       would haves
Let's stop the pretending
The façades
The false promises
Let's tell the truth
For once,
Shall we?
Just a suggestion :)
JP Nov 2018
Why economics
is confusing??
If you implement a plan
to bring the
"Have not to Haves"
Somethings happens behind
"Haves become Have not"
due to business failures and
bad vices..
Incurable..
the structure of the society..
Julie Grenness Oct 2015
Yes, it's the racing carnival,
Fashionistas so topical,
Significance trivial,
Eye candy,
Drunk and silly,
Studs in suits,
Looking beaut,
Glitterati,
Haves and wannabes,
For the paparazzi,
Doyens of the racing industry,
You all look fabulous,
Gambling magnanimous,
Thoroughbreds' gloss,
Media hype and dross,
Great racing day,
*****, bets and babes,
Stuff the plebs today,
Our city's public holiday,
Melbourne Cup Day!
A tribute to our racing public holiday. Feedback welcome.
Vicky Richards Aug 2014
Sometimes, you’d rather sit there and sob into eternity
Than feel a joyful ecstasy.
Your body wracked, your wit’s end is endless and you stay there indefinitely.
Looking over into the gorge, all you want is to throw yourself over, to give in to the pain and live out your days a hollow, hurting skeleton.
But you love the view too much to do it,
So you stand and you stare
Into the seabed of your tears
All the reasons why
And why not
And the could haves and should haves and days you hated yourself
The things you could not do, the times you were not perfect.
It is an ocean of self loathing full of salty, unrealistic expectation.
But in this sad desert, this raging storm, this churning sea – that is where you find it.
That is where it finds you.
Lying helpless on the ground, spent and shaking, eyes shut so tight they may never open again.
All I can feel is the rhythm of my tears pounding out the beat of my life force,
I want it to end,
I never want it to end.
And then one moment you’ve hit a wall
And the world falls away
And then I can feel it.
This tableau still laid out all around my, my hands touch earth and I find a plateau
And above me I can see it.
Myself.
The part of me that is most me, stand there waiting, strong and stoic and full of grace.
A weeping willow with arms outstretched, leaves twining together to lift me, safe, out of the storm.
Waiting to embrace this shivering mess of humanity it says,
“Come here, now, little one. All is not lost. Stay a while with me, you’ll see.”
It is in these moments where I find my strength.
When I hate it all so much that the clouds roll in and the air supply runs out,
When my constant, blessèd life turns into a string of cursed regrets
And good runs away
This is where it runs to.
If you wait long enough, it finds you on the edge
If you listen well enough, it will call you back from the places you wish didn’t exist
If you want it bad enough, you’ll never lose it
So long as you live, it will find you.
But you must live.
To live is more than to just exist. Pursue.
alison Jul 2015
The things that
make me sad the most
are the people
who break promises
and the what ifs,
should haves,
would haves,
and could haves.
The Heart-of-Promise, filled on his Wanton Day
Sorted the Journal to fix his Dates ahead
But the Noise down below would get in his Way
To record this Occasion; And the Dread
Of another Year before his License
To join the main and raucous World of the Teens
Each page A-Party; Each Chapter A-Spotting
And every Mouth speaks of Haves and Have-Beens
This is the Juice which every Child must Drink
Sour enough to turn his Locks into Stress
But the Door came A-Knocking; Mum held the Cake
Sixteen Candles he blew; And Hope came to Bless.
His Heart now strong; His Promise just fulfilled
And left his Room sweeping the Dust he killed.
#benjdaley

— The End —