Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"luckier" poems
I wouldn’t dare to guess The whole extent of The adolescent mess   Left upon the first broken heart.. Certainly you are one of those Who have overcome Those common blows     That tears a first timer's world apart... Or even luckier yet Perhaps your soulmate This time around Is who you met    Reflected in the passion of your art.... Being a poet Can be quite telling Aesthetically rebelling Sharing all the secrets    Of one's unique solitary heart.....
0
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 8:22 AM UTC
AESTHETIC REBEL
The star-filled seas are smooth tonight From France to England strown; Black towers above Portland light The felon-quarried stone. On yonder island; not to rise, Never to stir forth free, Far from his folk a dead lad lies That once was friends with me. Lie you easy, dream you light, And sleep you fast for aye; And luckier may you find the night Than you ever found the day.
0
6k
The Isle Of Portland
it was the second time this month catching the last metro from Charlevoix lugging my bike and a poor night's misfortune with sore feet and thinking about the lack of history that lay beneath Montréal how I longed for Sofia: an underground museum at every metro station, the time there waiting amidst the relics like a tree growing into its roots but here on the platform of Lionel-Groulx with its gaudy orange 60s bathroom tiles I must occupy myself, and so I reminisce about how some numbers make me feel how 6875 reminds me of what I’ve been putting off and 5359 used to be my go-to and 777 brings me cheer and 888 was supposed to be somehow luckier
0
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 11:09 PM UTC
the lack of history and my poor luck
Been a week since the new year arrived at dawn's door Seven sunrises had passed making way for many more Resolutions, wishes, aspirations cast into winds of new days In hopes they'd be carried forth on each dawn's new rays *Let us welcome the fresh air that come Inhale it deep as reminder that we're luckier than some Let us embrace the opportunity of time A privilege bestowed so we could still pen in rhyme Let us cherish the love from family and new found friends Shower upon them the gift of verse that never ends Let us strengthen existing virtual and physical connections Reinforce them with kindness, fortitude and good intentions Let us sieve past experiences that mar us black Dispense with animosity, ill thoughts and considerations that lack Let us trudge forward into the unknown together Hands in hands and hearts to hearts into the unforeseeable future* No matter who you are or where you've been We'll all get our fair share of twenty fifteen We've all been granted if you'd only take advantage In the great book of life, on a fresh, brand new page Do note that this is just ideal advice not so much as a plea I know the journey is long, arduous and never easy I hope these words I've penned would lighten your load Little bites of wisdom (I hope) for the long meandering road I can't promise the rise of the nightly moon But the sun will rise where you are; and it will arrive very soon
0
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
Twenty Fifteen
HOW should the world be luckier if this house, Where passion and precision have been one Time out of mind, became too ruinous To breed the lidleSs eye that loves the sun? And the sweet laughing eagle thoughts that grow Where wings have memory of wings, and all That comes of the best knit to the best? Although Mean roof-trees were the sturdier for its fall. How should their luck run high enough to reach The gifts that govern men, and after these To gradual Time's last gift, a written speech Wrought of high laughter, loveliness and ease?
0
2.5k
Upon A House Shaken By The Land Agitation
Dear Little Lilly, You're going to be very loved and cared for. Your dreams will one day be accomplished and you will soar, High above the mountaintops and clear beyond the seas, Lilly, you can be exactly what you want to be. Dear Little Lilly, You will be my sunshine, with a sweetness that won't end. And when you grow up one day Lilly, you'll be my closest friend. Don't be scared to be anything but the best, For my little angel, baby girl, you'll be my greatest test. Dear Little Lilly, You are luckier than most children, you see, Your mommy and daddy are the golden key. They are so wonderful and so bright and gay, They will help guide you, love you, and show you the way. Dear Little Lilly, Little girl, I can't wait to watch you soar and shine, Even in your darkest days, you'll pull through and be fine. With God's love in your heart and the world by its tail, You'll always be my winner, and victory will prevail. Dear Little Lilly, Do you know how much you mean to me, As you grow into what you will be? The next few years will so quickly fly, With laughter and joy, mixed with a few tears to cry. Dear Little Lilly, You're an angel. You left us your wings. Yet you have no idea how much happiness you truly bring. You brighten up my days with your wonderful smiles and laughs. You help me to remember all the blessings that I have. Dear Little Lilly, You're going to be very loved and cared for. Your dreams will one day be accomplished and you will soar, High above the mountaintops and clear beyond the sea. Lilly, you can be are exactly what you want to be.
0
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 6:13 PM UTC
Dear Little Lilly
Dear Little Lilly, You're going to be very loved and cared for. Your dreams will one day be accomplished and you will soar, High above the mountaintops and clear beyond the seas, Lilly, you can be exactly what you want to be. Dear Little Lilly, You will be my sunshine, with a sweetness that won't end. And when you grow up one day Lilly, you'll be my closest friend. Don't be scared to be anything but the best, For my little angel, baby girl, you'll be my greatest test. Dear Little Lilly, You are luckier than most children, you see, Your mommy and daddy are the golden key. They are so wonderful and so bright and gay, They will help guide you, love you, and show you the way. Dear Little Lilly, Little girl, I can't wait to watch you soar and shine, Even in your darkest days, you'll pull through and be fine. With God's love in your heart and the world by its tail, You'll always be my winner, and victory will prevail. Dear Little Lilly, Do you know how much you mean to me, As you grow into what you will be? The next few years will so quickly fly, With laughter and joy, mixed with a few tears to cry. Dear Little Lilly, You're an angel. You left us your wings. Yet you have no idea how much happiness you truly bring. You brighten up my days with your wonderful smiles and laughs. You help me to remember all the blessings that I have. Dear Little Lilly, You're going to be very loved and cared for. Your dreams will one day be accomplished and you will soar, High above the mountaintops and clear beyond the sea. Lilly, you can be are exactly what you want to be.
Continue reading...
35
what makes me saddest when i think of you, as i admit i sometimes do is the future we planned, that will never come true but i cant complain i'm luckier than most i didnt get the dreamhouse but i **** sure did get close
0
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
blueberry pancakes
You have imprinted all your memories here, And now you do not have to at all fear. You just tell me what and I will not just hear, With all my soul I will always strive to listen. You look beautiful in the night lamp dear, For all the beads of your sweat will glisten. You look gorgeous with those pearls there, From your forehead they all are descended. You appear youthful with those curls there, Around your ears they all are so nicely coiled. You appear deadly with those curvy eyes, Lucky me I'll cherish their charms for lifelong. You look fabulous with your lips quivering, Even in my dreams I have not been luckier.
0
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 6:10 AM UTC
Your Memoirs
He was born the year Babe hit 61, Baptized by the Great Depression, And confirmed in the South Pacific; They jokingly called him the Million Dollar Baby. No one knows why Because he was one of millions who did what Was right in a time when if they hadn't Our world could have gone wrong. And they expected not even a pat on the back for doing it. They were beautiful. He was beautiful, my dad. He carried me even when I was old enough to walk No complaints, no expectations beyond that I would Do the same for mine. I tried, but didn't do as well as he had done for me. Now the Million Dollar Baby sits in a geri chair, Cared for lovingly by his youngest girl. Fading like his memory of who he was and what he did But I will never forget. Heaven will be lucky to get him, I was luckier to have been his son.
0
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC
The Million Dollar Baby
Clickety clack, clickety clack go the perfect white plastic teeth as they clip together Reality bites like a pair of comedy dentures sprung from the pocket of a sad faced clown Look again; are they plastic? Or are they waterloo teeth plucked from the warm corpse of a cold friend Either way they are far too close to my face for this to be funny. For redemption he squeezes his droopy flower between finger and thumb But to no avail.....The comedy squirt is missing; it is as dry as the tears on his powder white cheek Squeak, squeak, squeak goes the wheel on his unicycle as he painfully pedals away But it is not he that failed you....No it is those that stole the part of you that used to be easily pleased Like thieves in the night, feasting on your happiness and enjoying the thought of wonderful you falling from your erroneously perceived perch Well let them take their pound of flesh, if they can rejoice in my pain it will only erode them from the inside out I renounce such bitterness because before long I will find me again, I will be stronger and better I will take flight and alight a pedestal far higher than the one they imagined I thought I was on “Just words!” screams that child in my soul...Actions are stifled like the image of a five year old you with a cloth clasped to the face; breathing on the anaesthetic evil of life. You want to help but you can only see him through the one way glass of time, what is done is done and can only be undone through reliving this terror and fixing the damage His struggle is short lived and the monsters descend, dragging him by a foot naked and bruised, head banging the contours of this corridor of depravity He cannot hear your screams but his fill your ears like the blood of a million paper cuts, not one measured but together a pain like no other Where was his saviour? Or was he always considered as a low risk category a misconception of strength and need Was his *** the white of his skin, the bread on his table, the money in his mothers pocket and the education he received render him ineligible for salvation In short...“Yes”...he was expected to save himself and learn to save others...Those less fortunate. Little do they know in some ways, once you’ve scratched the surface, they were far luckier Their vices were less harmful than his own devices, as a little knowledge is dangerous With great power comes great responsibility but some can be responsible for others without learning to take care of themselves.
0
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 7:37 AM UTC
Reality Bites
Clickety clack, clickety clack go the perfect white plastic teeth as they clip together Reality bites like a pair of comedy dentures sprung from the pocket of a sad faced clown Look again; are they plastic? Or are they waterloo teeth plucked from the warm corpse of a cold friend Either way they are far too close to my face for this to be funny. For redemption he squeezes his droopy flower between finger and thumb But to no avail.....The comedy squirt is missing; it is as dry as the tears on his powder white cheek Squeak, squeak, squeak goes the wheel on his unicycle as he painfully pedals away But it is not he that failed you....No it is those that stole the part of you that used to be easily pleased Like thieves in the night, feasting on your happiness and enjoying the thought of wonderful you falling from your erroneously perceived perch Well let them take their pound of flesh, if they can rejoice in my pain it will only erode them from the inside out I renounce such bitterness because before long I will find me again, I will be stronger and better I will take flight and alight a pedestal far higher than the one they imagined I thought I was on “Just words!” screams that child in my soul...Actions are stifled like the image of a five year old you with a cloth clasped to the face; breathing on the anaesthetic evil of life. You want to help but you can only see him through the one way glass of time, what is done is done and can only be undone through reliving this terror and fixing the damage His struggle is short lived and the monsters descend, dragging him by a foot naked and bruised, head banging the contours of this corridor of depravity He cannot hear your screams but his fill your ears like the blood of a million paper cuts, not one measured but together a pain like no other Where was his saviour? Or was he always considered as a low risk category a misconception of strength and need Was his *** the white of his skin, the bread on his table, the money in his mothers pocket and the education he received render him ineligible for salvation In short...“Yes”...he was expected to save himself and learn to save others...Those less fortunate. Little do they know in some ways, once you’ve scratched the surface, they were far luckier Their vices were less harmful than his own devices, as a little knowledge is dangerous With great power comes great responsibility but some can be responsible for others without learning to take care of themselves.
Continue reading...
22
What could my heart do, When I just fell for you, With all the love I had. Our union was long written, My mind refuses to wake up, Your voice put me in a trance. Time put you in my destiny, Unlucky no more I feel dear, None is any luckier than me. Romance is inborn they say, I disagree with these claims, We learn the romantic way.
0
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 7:28 AM UTC
Surrender
You have imprinted all your memories here, And now you do not have to at all fear. You just tell me what and I will not just hear, With all my soul I will always strive to listen. You look beautiful in the night lamp dear, For all the beads of your sweat will glisten. You look gorgeous with those pearls there, From your forehead they all are descended. You appear youthful with those curls here, Around your ears they all are so nicely coiled. You appear deadly with those curvy eyes, Lucky me I'll cherish their charms for lifelong. You look fabulous with your lips quivering, Even in my dreams I have not been luckier.
0
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 6:59 AM UTC
Your Etched Memories
We worked hard for these plans for so long these dreams, we feel, could never go wrong we have given them our all...they are nearly done, but, "nearly" doesn't mean it's been won deep inside, we keep alive their essence and we choose to stretch our patience... We wait... Notes have yet to be written on the bars the tunes seem to be playing among the stars lyrics are springing back and forth "pen-rubber-pen," is a cycle that can't be fought they are songs taking too long to be sung in the air, they fly, like arrows being slung in spaces too far flung... We sit on the edge, while waiting... They are verses that falter have yet to make it on white paper altered thoughts, words displaced lines, here and there...disorganized hanging... with unknown endings work is pending we desperately seek for the missing element to come up with meaty, meaningful contents... We console ourselves, and say, "maybe later..." They are faces that hide there, at the back of our minds smiling at us in our darkest hours they make us cry, laugh, turn our moods so dour keeping us company twenty-four/seven, we fervently wish, the odds would become even yes...we long for their physical presence but....it can't...it just doesn't...happen! they keep stalling courage could be waning... It is hard to comprehend why...we're still willing to wait. When most days of life have passed and while waiting, we breathe our last, our songs, our meandering loves, our dreams, our long written poems with scattered themes, like shredded paper, shall go with the final heave of our chests fly away, flee to the open spaces...to find rest, and, after wandering all over...they would then settle down to finally become the color of the ground. One day, things would fit into their proper places, people will wear smiles on their faces nothing would seem to be wrong the air would be filled with songs from new lives, new loves...risen from the fall from life's cycle....these unknowing souls their palms, with lines and colors, much brighter they could be luckier they have better chances...they show more courage the wind brings good fortune, they now have the edge... How are they to know, their most desired aspirations used to be other people's inspirations in the past generations? their dreams realized had once been, Things that were not meant to be. Sally Copyright JUNE 2014 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
0
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 7:49 PM UTC
Things That Were Not Meant To Be
We worked hard for these plans for so long these dreams, we feel, could never go wrong we have given them our all...they are nearly done, but, "nearly" doesn't mean it's been won deep inside, we keep alive their essence and we choose to stretch our patience... We wait... Notes have yet to be written on the bars the tunes seem to be playing among the stars lyrics are springing back and forth "pen-rubber-pen," is a cycle that can't be fought they are songs taking too long to be sung in the air, they fly, like arrows being slung in spaces too far flung... We sit on the edge, while waiting... They are verses that falter have yet to make it on white paper altered thoughts, words displaced lines, here and there...disorganized hanging... with unknown endings work is pending we desperately seek for the missing element to come up with meaty, meaningful contents... We console ourselves, and say, "maybe later..." They are faces that hide there, at the back of our minds smiling at us in our darkest hours they make us cry, laugh, turn our moods so dour keeping us company twenty-four/seven, we fervently wish, the odds would become even yes...we long for their physical presence but....it can't...it just doesn't...happen! they keep stalling courage could be waning... It is hard to comprehend why...we're still willing to wait. When most days of life have passed and while waiting, we breathe our last, our songs, our meandering loves, our dreams, our long written poems with scattered themes, like shredded paper, shall go with the final heave of our chests fly away, flee to the open spaces...to find rest, and, after wandering all over...they would then settle down to finally become the color of the ground. One day, things would fit into their proper places, people will wear smiles on their faces nothing would seem to be wrong the air would be filled with songs from new lives, new loves...risen from the fall from life's cycle....these unknowing souls their palms, with lines and colors, much brighter they could be luckier they have better chances...they show more courage the wind brings good fortune, they now have the edge... How are they to know, their most desired aspirations used to be other people's inspirations in the past generations? their dreams realized had once been, Things that were not meant to be. Sally Copyright JUNE 2014 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Continue reading...
62
because i always notice the little changes in my twos and capital As, the slant replacing a deceptive curve in the final letter of my name, the necessary angles and perpendicular attitude of my things, seeking control in unconventional places, because i can't seem to get a firm handle on anything else. incomplete people with little habits of a partner to smooth out their edges and fill in their flaws are luckier than those who have to do it themselves.
0
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 3:11 AM UTC
idiosyncrasy
That year I dug up too much, wore rose quartz memories and stared down too many sunsets, felt my edges soften and become sharp again, the continuum of freezing and thawing, in someone else's hands. That year I realised that a name itself can be a poem, or a will, or a sentence, that mirrors assess damage, scars resemble time, and bones are just splintered pieces of those I miss. That year I was an opportunity, a calendar choking on rotting number, a recycled version of events, already breathed by someone luckier.
0
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 5:37 AM UTC
MMXIV: an obituary
The grit under a shoe on a tile floor, is heard, an ugly sound, under duress, of a hardened sole,                 Or is it the soul that has no give,      No mercy, with which to live, Scapes of wrath, scratches on the superficial, Eke and etch an existence, where None, stood a chance, For None was luckier than most, and a Host of Others it appears, in relief. None, Other can I trust, None Other do I have. ©DWE022014
0
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
hello, let me introduce...my friend, None Other
How lucky am I you ask? I'm the luckiest guy on Earth To have the privilege...the blessing to know a girl like you. Why is it a privilege you ask? You are the most amazing girl on Earth And I adore everything about you. What do I adore you ask? Your smile, laugh, eyes, beauty, Your smarts, talent, humor, kindness, The list goes on and on. Why am I so kind to you you ask? In my eyes you're not just a girl, You're a queen, angel, goddess, And it would be wrong for anyone to mistreat someone so extraordinary. Do I love you you ask? The answer to that is simple: I love you to the moon and back, I love you more than life itself, And you are the light of my life, Joy of my world. So how lucky am I you ask? Luckier than winning the lottery, Luckier than landing a dream job, Luckier than being saved from death, Luckier than a four-leaf clover, All because I know you.
0
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 12:15 AM UTC
How Lucky Am I?
I would have said that I love you, If the situations weren't this way, If you are a bit patient & mature. I would write my odysseys for you, If I could then I would write them, If I was just a bit happy & luckier. I would often keep kissing you, If the air couldn't suffocate me, If I could have flown up to you. I would have loved you till sunrise, When they were never anticipated, And I could come up with a surprise. I would compose my songs for you, When they were most unexpected, When I would be loved back unto.
0
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 4:04 AM UTC
For The Most Beautiful Young Lady I Know
It seems to me that I am a ***** Cheap a ***** Perfumed flower of the Day... What else, what else I wasn't there... Here and there... I lost the one I thought too good, She had a mission, All too great... It's over, now. I may just die, from their end... True, true... They need no prayers, They need no rescuers of their souls, They're that good. Or' Maybe they have no soul, No soul they have... She May be just a ***** I am too proud for this... But would you care... Oh, yeah, you showed all the care. Maybe she didn't have a choice... I'm just a ***** among other things, I like to dance... I like to think... Your Perfume take, quite cheap, Cheap, cheap romance, Cheap romance Like an ocean breeze. ... Do you think she doesn't care, She has no feelings, o' heart, no brain. Maybe she didn't have a choice, Wish we were all much luckier... I'm Just a ***** dear, what did you expect?
0
Apr 16, 2021
Apr 16, 2021 at 10:40 AM UTC
Just a ***** (letter)
here's a barter to the gardener who made Eve then marred her who fathered the carpenter then martyred man's armour I spit at the sky but He spits back harder one roar and a flash and i'm a blurred charred marker and while I know I'm a carper to start a rant over rain, I'm cold and I'm tired and a little bit vain so to the almighty all awful why when you reign does it pour? naught but rain until dawn is this the law of the poor and lore for those born with a luckier draw? I cry to the alpha to compromise his plan and just for tomorrow, clear the skies for Sam
0
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 5:50 AM UTC
raining outside
When God indeed rubs a forehead with luck what on earth can hide that? For how long, how far eclipsing on the way can the clouds roam high? The wind will blow and will rain them down. Ah, the pure blue in luck, in abundance, up in the sky always shines out! That's a trait of the eternally blue The lucky colour sets the better backdrop for the shimmering sun in the sky. Luckier is a man with a righteous wife!
0
May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019 at 12:10 AM UTC
Lucky Blue Lucky Man
Eminently most nights you enter my dreams falling languidly within each moving ethereal scene The first light of morning feels cold and unwelcoming an imposing enemy waiting for me to rouse staring blankly carrying me away from my most precious clouds Sleep and the peaceful state of 'just being' has become my most sought after friend indeed upon awakening I recall with wonder who is luckier? you or me?
0
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 6:31 PM UTC
Clouds