"reprioritize" poems - Hello Poetry

Most days are an empty worn Out house On 1300 south block It sees all the wealthy From Costco to it's front door - If, you heed the need. No one pays attention Or spends on empty houses with broken boards for steps or bed springs to sleep on. Most walk by thinking something like, That house did it to itself. To get to where it is. But they would be dead wrong. It takes years for a house to empty out Because of neglect from all sources, for a time, For misfortune, no matter all the life inside. This was a yellowbird house proud to be built. People, a cat or two, maybe an obedient dog walked in and out Someone cared enough to put a roof on It thought complete. Some people are like empty houses, Neglected, cobwebs and sticky. But, people bleed, that get torn down by so many things. One thing in common though, houses and people are eventually demolished if no one cares. Someone may crash into your car of goods as you exit the fancy box stores that make you think more is better. But then your son collapses at home from an overdose. You, clueless. What were you paying attention to? Just barely 26. What was, your yellowbird home, will now be remembered When the sound you heard of your son's thump as he hit the bathroom floor, as you readied for work. Split in half. Someone dies. You didn't plan on being an empty house now today, did you? So, what will you do about it? Abandoned like an empty parking lot Sorrow the only true begger Grasping for something, A currency To take you back. So stop flirting with birds As they come and go. Time is not for sale.

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Aug 12, 2025

Aug 12, 2025 at 2:06 PM UTC

Highwireart

Time Table

Most days are an empty worn Out house On 1300 south block It sees all the wealthy From Costco to it's front door - If, you heed the need. No one pays attention Or spends on empty houses with broken boards for steps or bed springs to sleep on. Most walk by thinking something like, That house did it to itself. To get to where it is. But they would be dead wrong. It takes years for a house to empty out Because of neglect from all sources, for a time, For misfortune, no matter all the life inside. This was a yellowbird house proud to be built. People, a cat or two, maybe an obedient dog walked in and out Someone cared enough to put a roof on It thought complete. Some people are like empty houses, Neglected, cobwebs and sticky. But, people bleed, that get torn down by so many things. One thing in common though, houses and people are eventually demolished if no one cares. Someone may crash into your car of goods as you exit the fancy box stores that make you think more is better. But then your son collapses at home from an overdose. You, clueless. What were you paying attention to? Just barely 26. What was, your yellowbird home, will now be remembered When the sound you heard of your son's thump as he hit the bathroom floor, as you readied for work. Split in half. Someone dies. You didn't plan on being an empty house now today, did you? So, what will you do about it? Abandoned like an empty parking lot Sorrow the only true begger Grasping for something, A currency To take you back. So stop flirting with birds As they come and go. Time is not for sale.

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Moving On from Moving On June 11, 2014 at 11:36pm Musings by Vivvy Walker When I got divorced people were helpful and understood I was moving on. They knew it was a BIGGIE A big, huge, ginormous time in my life I was moving on. They helped me. I helped me. Everyone was familiar with the process. The pitfalls. The backtracks. The wins. The successes. I was moving on. And now I am firmly entrenched in vague territory. I have moved on. And I need to move on. From moving on. I moved. I packed. And unpacked. All the baggage. Physical and emotional. I am post-moving on I am done. I no longer need to work ridiculous hours. Or raise my girls alone. Or be alone. I always thought it would be easy when I was done Moving on. But it is hard To reprioritize yet again. To reorganize my life & thoughts (yet again) To adjust To be laid-back. And free. And funny. I have to constantly remind myself I'm no longer moving on That chapter has closed. It is time for my voice To be heard. For my dreams. To be realized. For me I think of the men and women who- like me Have moved on And I raise a glass Coffee, wine, beer, ***** Drink with the little umbrella I toast you The changelings, the chameleons The doers, the movers And shakers Those crazy laughing' probies' Of life post divorce I toast you The tortoises The 'long run' winners Those plodding wonderful people Of life post-divorce I toast you My fellow butterflies My new wing-having friends All those who cried And then didn't anymore Post-divorce I toast you For bravery And audacity And showing me how to move on From moving on Post-divorce ~Vivvy Walker 6/12/14

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Aug 5, 2014

Aug 5, 2014 at 3:22 AM UTC

vivvy-walker

Moving On From Moving On

Moving On from Moving On June 11, 2014 at 11:36pm Musings by Vivvy Walker When I got divorced people were helpful and understood I was moving on. They knew it was a BIGGIE A big, huge, ginormous time in my life I was moving on. They helped me. I helped me. Everyone was familiar with the process. The pitfalls. The backtracks. The wins. The successes. I was moving on. And now I am firmly entrenched in vague territory. I have moved on. And I need to move on. From moving on. I moved. I packed. And unpacked. All the baggage. Physical and emotional. I am post-moving on I am done. I no longer need to work ridiculous hours. Or raise my girls alone. Or be alone. I always thought it would be easy when I was done Moving on. But it is hard To reprioritize yet again. To reorganize my life & thoughts (yet again) To adjust To be laid-back. And free. And funny. I have to constantly remind myself I'm no longer moving on That chapter has closed. It is time for my voice To be heard. For my dreams. To be realized. For me I think of the men and women who- like me Have moved on And I raise a glass Coffee, wine, beer, ***** Drink with the little umbrella I toast you The changelings, the chameleons The doers, the movers And shakers Those crazy laughing' probies' Of life post divorce I toast you The tortoises The 'long run' winners Those plodding wonderful people Of life post-divorce I toast you My fellow butterflies My new wing-having friends All those who cried And then didn't anymore Post-divorce I toast you For bravery And audacity And showing me how to move on From moving on Post-divorce ~Vivvy Walker 6/12/14

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Always and never at the same exact time, infinitely wondering about you in rhyme. It's painful and numbing, and soothes me to sleep yet keeps me wide awake, dry-eyed until I weep. A memory of nothing that was everything to me- such a little long time amidst the grand scheme. A golden ticket to rot in hell, a barren fate I'll accept very well. An altering strand in a web of conscience, my previous beliefs now all make me nauseous. A single star with no constellation, believe it or not- my soul’s favorite destination. I wish it never happened, but I’d do it again just to reprioritize the time we would spend. It’s not quite missing, and I wouldn’t call it an ache; my heart is perfectly fine until she starts to break. But if I unknew you- if you just stayed a dream- I’d know I’d never have to deal with the relieving pain of your leave.

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Aug 14, 2025

Aug 14, 2025 at 12:36 PM UTC

Kalliopie

Pain's Paradox

Always and never at the same exact time, infinitely wondering about you in rhyme. It's painful and numbing, and soothes me to sleep yet keeps me wide awake, dry-eyed until I weep. A memory of nothing that was everything to me- such a little long time amidst the grand scheme. A golden ticket to rot in hell, a barren fate I'll accept very well. An altering strand in a web of conscience, my previous beliefs now all make me nauseous. A single star with no constellation, believe it or not- my soul’s favorite destination. I wish it never happened, but I’d do it again just to reprioritize the time we would spend. It’s not quite missing, and I wouldn’t call it an ache; my heart is perfectly fine until she starts to break. But if I unknew you- if you just stayed a dream- I’d know I’d never have to deal with the relieving pain of your leave.

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