"regroup" poems
I've been running on empty
Skipping on dregs
Cycling on morsels
Jumping on egg
shells
It's time to recoup
regroup
renew, restore,
build more
reserves
Surrender to slumber
And swerve
Away from activity
Simply
pause,
And deeply breathe.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
I search, but I rarely find
The reasons they say that I'd be fine
Fine is perspective I say with a wink
First amused then confused they stop and they think
"What does he mean," they say through closed teeth.
I'll tell you what I think and believe
See no one ever gets out of life alive
So I find it inexplicable why someone would try.
That might seem negative in practice or thought
But life hands out lemons or so I've been taught
But the second half of that statement I never have bought
Don't make lemonade be happy with the lemons you've got
Cuz each one you get teaches you something you see.
Just embrace life for itself what will be, well, will be.
Some risk the now for future's sake
Spend all their time planning just to get raked
Over the coals by the pressure they've placed
On themselves trying to force their lives into shape
I learned early on that square pegs just don't fit
In round holes, so what's the point in forcing it.
Life ebbs and flows, steals, lies and cheats.
If you aren't ready for its storms you'll be blown off your feet
To weather the storms of lightning and sleet
You'll need recover regroup and repeat,
The lessons you learned when you were so young.
Yes, plan a future but in the now, please, have fun.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 2:16 PM UTC
Moved by the guiding hands of the wind,
While avoiding the living room box's trend.
Although fixate with this generation's iPad,
Or impulse to explore the Xbox's dungeon,
And glimpse the pages of the Forbe, the Facebook, and the likes.
Make time to be in the moment of solace,
A time to dream to explore ideals,
Like floating in nebula avoiding the all powerful black hole.
Navigating the void of the sense of inner torment,
Or charting the boundries of the next voyages of personal task.
One does need to depart from disparity of news,
Or lose sense of humanity by deprived reality TV,
For satirical movies like Idiocracy prophesied seem realized.
One does need to regroup in personal cocoon,
Meld by the silent melodies of beating chest,
Like metronome syncing the keys of the piano to Bach,
While breathing upon the horizon of rebirth,
And find your enshrouded foggy path by beacon of self enlightenment.
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
What makes it so easy to ponder about lost admiration than newly found attraction?
It must be that we have so much more time to ourselves after realizing that our lost love can be compared with a pair of old tennis shoes.
We have journeyed to distant lands of pleasure, happiness, communal pain, hard work, and satisfaction. We have shuffled through the ever changing seasons of the emotional storm. At some point, it is almost unimaginable that we will someday be replaced. Some tennis shoes never get replaced.
But do the owners of those shoes ever have the chance to regroup, grow, and renew?
The soles and linings and laces of shoes begin to wear out. Soon, patches are needed. Sometimes a newborn child can serve as a patch and sometimes an exotic vacation will do the trick.
Surely no one believes that the patches are permanent…
It is easier to ponder about long lost attachment because, at the end of the long walk that we have taken with our shoes, we often come to think and wish that we had taken better care of their owners.
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 4:55 PM UTC
Heart, Pound, Race, Touch,
Kiss, Smell, Feel, Watch,
Wait, Relax, Caress, Secure,
Stroke, Chest, Heave, Exhale
Jump, Tremble, Hands, Sweat,
Passion, Heat, Rise, Degree,
Stay, Think, Breathe, Listen,
Light, Wings, Float, Whisper
Four, Play, Tease, Arouse,
Lips, Part, Suction, Moisten,
Lick, Slick, Excite, Swell,
Taste, Pelvis, Buck, Flow
Expand, Enlarge, Protrude, Enter,
****** Easy, Grab, Slow,
Gentle, In, Out, Ocean,
Up, Down, Around, Receive
Spank, Rhythm, Slap, Tickle,
Ride, Grip, Squeeze, Please,
Heavenly, Faint, Dizzy, Elation,
Ascent, Peak, Climb, Axe
Shudder, Descent, Collect, Regroup,
Melt, Hold, Mold, Entwine,
Envelop, Smooth, Relieve, Soften,
Linger, Love, Live, Laugh!
-----ChawzzyScript
Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 3:40 PM UTC
Thank you.
I have no place to stay.
I need to regroup;
to organise my life.
I really appreciate this.
**** you.
I feel humiliated.
I need to be independant;
to stand on my own.
I feel really ashamed.
Thank you.
I am learning to be humble.
I need to shed my pride;
to lessen my arrogance.
I accept this humiliation,
on the road to humility.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 9:22 AM UTC
Scatter your thoughts like a broken mirror.
Bad luck you say? Toss me a beer.
Stumble and grumble, dance and stray.
Tell everyone what you want to say.
Regroup your actions and ease your mind.
I'll take back what was once mine.
A utopia of peace. A sliver of violence.
I can now take this lingering silence.
It took me less time than I concluded.
But only a couple days were excluded.
Thank you kind sir, even if it lasts only a short trot.
You have helped me the most, believe it or not.
Hidden well, secrecy is reason.
I'm over this act of what I thought was treason.
Jan 25, 2011
Jan 25, 2011 at 8:10 PM UTC
It’s always a strange feeling
when the kids pull away
on Christmas morning to
open anew their presence
at mom’s.
Only to return indoors
from seeing them off
to find my more recent kids
equally pulling away to
play with their new toys
and gadgets.
Inside, my wife pulls away
retreating from years of
holiday shopping and cooking and regrets
and I retreat to write
a poem or virtually connect
with others.
And I realize that retreat
is normal, not a casualty of divorce
just refreshing and treating ourselves to
quiet rejuvenation.
And tomorrow we’ll regroup anew
and begin the count toward
next year.
25.xii.10
Mar 5, 2011
Mar 5, 2011 at 3:12 PM UTC
Honestly,
I find it rather cruel to leave me lingering.
Lingering like unwanted taint from a long, hard day of work.
You should of just crushed me.
You should of told me there was no hope.
You should have told me that it all was just a fallacy.
You should have made me hate you.
Even then, after I would regroup my dignity after being such a fool,
I do not believe my heart would wish ****** harm against you.
How pathetic do I sound right about now?
All I pray for is to have a stronger heart,
A stronger mind.
Already, I grow tired of pining over you.
The one time I decided not to shut someone out
And in return, I am left with a much larger void.
I greatly dislike my understanding personality.
It is something that I never possessed,
But I did not expect to find someone similar to me.
I simply wished that I was burdened
By the ignorant naivety of today's youth.
I am finding it quite factual that I am deemed cursed.
That real love or an ideal relationship,
Has forsaken me.
I am aware of the obvious.
I am aware of my own youth.
I am one who survives on the care for others.
Only for ones I see fit.
Alas, here I am rambling on about the usual.
All I must say, is that my feelings were true.
Surprising, actually,
For I was only seeking company
And found something much more.
I find it a burden to know that
Someone as good as you, is out there.
I simply wish, I perhaps will count the days,
That one day, I can call you mine
And I, yours.
We all know that is just the latest crazy talk
That mind-fuckery builds when we
Are alone, yearning for the things we cannot have.
**** this hopeless romantic heart of mine.
**** being weak.
**** being vunerable.
**** being understanding.
Just, **** everything.
I leave you with:
You should of just crushed me.
You should of told me there was no hope.
You should have told me that it all was just a fallacy.
You should have made me hate you
Yet, knowing I,
I want to linger.
I wish that I will linger in your mind.
If not, I simply hope that peace with shroud every inch of you
And that you will find what your heart seeks.
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 10:24 PM UTC
Frustration is only a sensation
Don't let it change what you think
If you do so,
then it only shows
where you're weak.
Your motivation
will shrink
when you feel
you're on the brink.
Regroup, get in sync.
Sensation comes
and goes
with a blink
of an eye
Hold your breath
and continue to try.
Why are you frustrated?
It's because of how you've
decided to classify.
What do you think
that signifies?
Identify then simplify.
Irrigate your irritation's
stimuli.
Instead of frustration,
look towards it with
gratification.
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 12:25 PM UTC
Nordri, Sudri, Austri and Vestri
Jumped right off of the castle tapestry
Lithely they run to the cardinals post haste
And cannot regroup or the dragons they’ve chased
Would hem in the map again, like long ago
When the world’s termination at mount, cliff, or snow
Would imprison folks fearful of fathoms in fright
And torture the thoughts of the children at night
Our heroes hold up the corners of sky
They've all said hello, and politely, goodbye
To a remnant who seek to look outside their square
Compelled by their heartbeats and chilled foreign air
There may be dragons outside of this dome,
But we shall slay them! And leave hearth and home
To illumine the darkness and know our own worth
To fulfill what's been destined for all since our birth.
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
Modern man unpacks his woes
He'd have us call it progress
The way back to our cave is paved
Several million ante-deluvians
drowned under the same delusion
How high do you need the ziggurat?
Asks ****** at Babel
Time wasn't ripe back then for God
He disabled their default accord;
their demon intent to destroy His plan
Three thousand years it's taken to regroup
Time enough for His time to be right
For the time of the end of the curse
So please, can the clever caveman thoughts
next time you imagine shuttles in space
a reflection of how superior we are
He'd downgrade us again in a flash
if it wasn't just about the time
we get to blow ourselves up anyway
Wiseup weasels, remember the reason
our playpen was restored in seven days
from Lucifer's null and void revenge
We have seven milenniums to learn to love
To take up our parts in Father's plan
or blow away like the wind
Six of them are practically over
Six billion souls in six thousand years
Created on day six, the number of man
We're at point six point six point break
Day seven's about to dawn.
The number of perfection and rest
Tormented earth groans anticipation
Mushroom clouds and lawlessness
pose no threat to YaHWeH's timeline
Null and void is on His Just In Time list
Every eye will see Meshiach come
Every knee will bow for
The Ancient of Days
Sep 28, 2009
Sep 28, 2009 at 12:01 PM UTC
This man, oh, he fights all alone.
He’s fighting so far from home.
Every day he bears his gun, he risks his life,
Fighting in hellish worlds plagued with strife.
He’s not in this for your revolution.
He’s just here of his own volition.
He doesn’t care if things get worse.
He just wants your gold in his purse.
Each and every time he fires,
Death comes, hangs ‘round the shires.
He’s borne witness to immense misery,
But after so much, rarely is he teary.
His brothers and comrades fell all around,
But he has time for neither cry nor frown.
In the town, he’s burnt, he’s looted, he’s *****
And, into the night, his shadow’s shifted shape.
The dogs of war, they’ve never stopped;
Even when they’re sliced or chopped.
They just go to hell, where they regroup,
Then come back as yet more troop.
Time and guilt erode this man’s visage;
He’s still haunted by infernal image.
He still remembers his prime, young days;
Oh, how he wasted his youthful phase.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 3:13 PM UTC
Inside a written scribble,
of a poets mind,
sometimes a roadmap
to another world unfolds.
One where eyes
carry reader inside grace.
Ocean waves crescent in mind.
Melodies dance in sea of sky.
Colorful gate keeps troubles away.
Wind quenches lungs and heart.
The perfect place to wander in
to regroup and align
with light of a new day.
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 9:13 AM UTC
You know it’s time to go
Don’t amp up your ego
Don’t worry about the romance
You know you’re the definition of a real man
Focus back on your dreams
People depending on you, focus on that team
Just regroup and relax
Your wife will reveal herself, and you know that
I know your heart’s scarred
Yes it ***** but it must end
Just trust me, Zay, you don’t belong to them
Let go you’re not the problem
Look in the mirror and smile
There’s know need to be angry
If it’ll be awhile, then it’ll be a while
Remember you got God, Jesus, and me (you)
Mar 21, 2022
Mar 21, 2022 at 1:27 AM UTC
Did you know they pay people to study here,
to stay here after studying? It’s the human
capital flight of the tech-smart who type faster
than an entire room of secretaries in cardigans and pearls.
But the bigger question is, if all the brains
are draining out like spiders in a shower, then who is still here
weighting the state lines down with stones
if not zombies? Brainless bodies hungry, crabby, and without
an appropriate sense of boundaries.
They lure you in
with home values and cheap houses—the tired ones
who are getting old for their age, who don’t run as fast or as often
and want an easy life with chubby children and a yard,
or those who are sick of being felt up ‘accidentally’ on the 22 Fillmore bus.
This is how they get you.
And you stay because it grows on you
the way everything grows in Indiana, effortlessly and way too fast.
Plus, let’s face it, you’ve gotten lazy and don’t
make enough money to one day move away
with the kids and the yard and all.
So the zombies win.
But being Indiana,
the neo-conservatists would swoop in to save the day
against the zombies who hate us for our freedoms
and the liberation of our women. And sometime after
the "Mission Accomplished" banner is broadcast
to all 50 states from a ship safely tucked away
on Lake Michigan,
the zombies will regroup again
and pick us off like old ladies at the bus station.
Then with even more determination and hatred of the living
they’ll get fat on intellect until they’ve eaten the last,
and the un-dead of Indiana will die of starvation.
Feb 11, 2012
Feb 11, 2012 at 9:55 AM UTC
When the day squares off neatly:
No flex in the coating.
No chips or cracks,
Nothing to catch in my breath;
Why do I find myself here,
Where a smile grates?
When I connect to the grid:
Fumble through smalltalk,
Have a pint or two,
And learn my place (in that order);
Why do I find myself here,
Where the panic waits?
When Spring cuts the chill:
A simmering sun inhales the frost.
Fog retreats to regroup
As stoats skitter across busy back-roads.
Why do I find myself here,
Where pressure propagates?
Maybe my perception is warped.
It's sometimes warmer here,
(where a smile grates).
It's sometimes safer here,
(where the panic waits).
It's sometimes easier here,
(where pressure propagates).
Maybe I'll stay a while.
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 8:45 PM UTC
Bad News *****
I received news today that really really *****
although not totally unexpected I know
circumstances beyond our control is what we say
isn't that what we always say when we don't know
the end has come and the end has gone
and I sit her now searching for the truth
I mean a much deeper truth about you about me
should I be in search of a confessional booth
where I had settled into a way of acceptance
a spark emerged that breathed in new life
dancing had once again become real super cool
but part of the chorus removed with a carving knife
now the damage has been limited in part
and disaster control has taken an interest
the team will regroup and come here often
even though that might not really be the best
my mind will wander from time to time
past old McDill for the upteenth reoccurance
the object may one day be spotted found again
but I may have to accept total disappearance
on to other projects I hope to fill me up
old baseball gloves and even some hockey pucks
but looks like another stretched and sprained ligament
dam all I can say is boy Bad News *****
Gomer LePoet...
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 12:26 PM UTC
Thugs and tyrants tempting fate?
Fallen kingdoms threatening war?
Hordes of immigrants at the gate?
Hang this placard on your door:
good intentions cannot fail;
liberal smugness must prevail !
Children ***** while cities burn?
Tortured corpses, sudden blasts?
Armies surge, regroup, return…
your gentle snowflake counsel lasts.
Smug and godless never falters;
smug will save your sons and daughters.
Hilarious, this global village.
Flags of doom unfurled on high…
throats are slit as death-squads pillage;
****** madness stains the sky.
What matters most: you’re open-minded
(smug beholds the world unblinded).
Christian faith? You blow a fuse,
babbling to your New York Times;
crusades with jihads you confuse
apologizing for their crimes.
Hashtag snark will save our day
smug, enlightened, global, gay…
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 6:59 AM UTC
Giving you a lot of space
Not communicating and realized trying is futile
Friends need to back off and regroup sometimes
Wishing you the very best of everything always
When you are ready to reach out an understanding ear or welcoming door awaits you
For now, take care of yourself
C@rainbowchaser2023
Jun 20, 2023
Jun 20, 2023 at 4:06 PM UTC
The leaves, flittering like birds, birds that have been attached, captured, leashes of fishing line around their neck, allowed to float in the breeze, tasting the freedom. The taste rolls off their tongues, down the back of their throats. It tastes like more. But there is not more to have. Tethered in groups to their branches, swaying, holding the branches up like balloons. They bring such pleasure to those watching them, watching at the zoo of nature. Occasionally, these visitors will throw a crumb, a disturbance in the air, sending a breeze to them, scattering the birds, only to regroup momentarily as they are ****** back by their leashes.
(Yet only the flitteringest of leaves are birds. The needles, poised like popcorn of green starch, stick out from their branches, frozen after their explosion into the air, paralyzed at their first breath.)
May 1, 2012
May 1, 2012 at 6:06 PM UTC
Words just lay scattered for long
Strewn all over the mind in pieces
Unable to gather from the corners
In the darkness, they lost relevance
Scattered thoughts waiting to regroup
But the mind had wandered elsewhere
The room locked away and forgotten
Where once the heart and soul resided
Looking for happiness elsewhere
A chance incident was a commotion
And once again looking for safe haven
Standing in front of the locked room
To gather the lost pieces of words
Depraved of attention, they lost weight
Not fed with the feelings and emotion
But once again it was time to gather
The strewn away pieces, neglected
And it was time to align them
With the ink that bled within
The pen was waiting for this moment
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 10:30 AM UTC
Optional is not an option anymore.
I will roam
and I will writhe.
I will rally, rebuild.
I will pave a road,
I'll launch a ship.
I'll race a train, I'll run like hell.
I'll **** the marrow from my spine.
I'll hold my head above the moon.
I'll dive in the deep, I'll chase a bullet.
I'll wander out,
I'll slide away.
I'll lead an army and bomb the past.
Declare unrest and start new rule.
Crown a new king,
I'll carve a new stone.
I'll turn a new leaf and I'll sing a new song.
I'll make a new wish
And I'll burn a new bush.
I'll write a new page
And jump in with both feet.
I'll love a new lover
And befriend whom you hate.
I'll start a campaign.
I'll torch down our home.
Then move heaven and earth one inch to the left.
I'll shake. I'll regroup.
I'll push and I'll ****
Reincarnate
Regurgitate.
I'll weave... I will tide.
I'll bend, and I'll bob, and I'll steal,
*I WILL TAKE! *
Because optional's not an option...
Anymore.
Sahn 6/8/14
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
Listless airwaves
wreak havoc across
my sun scorched
landscape.
I bend into
snapdragon
position,
lilt like August wheat
and regroup,
regenerate
my amphibious
limbs.
But I am not bold
or strong
or any of those things
that you said
when you were trying
to talk me back
from the precipice
of my jagged mind.
I am pigeon toed
and meek,
stuffing sticky sweet
secrets
into the cracks
of my palms
and turning my face away
from the lights.
I am not,
I am not
any of those things
that you said,
but I'm trying;
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 12:03 AM UTC