"responsibilities" poems
As the sun slowly sets
The precursor to the week
With deadlines,
Orders,
Oh so bleak
The calm before the storm
Too restless to enjoy
For everybody knows
It's sunday's melancholy ploy
Responsibilities loom overhead
Our heart as heavy as the air
The world has now gone silent
We sit in subtle fear
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 4:44 PM UTC
Masters of the Universe,
tender me thy resignation,
if but for
a day,
a millennia,
no matter how measured,
any being,
you, purported supreme
or otherwise,
are tired in ways
hard to comprehend
*tender me
thy responsibilities and dilemmas,
have studied your resignations,
solutions that provide no resolution...*
I can do better.
Why?
not obligated by parenthood,
rules of randomness superimposed,
all I got is human kindness
the eyesight that
colors kindness,
tolerates no injustice,
milky white light,
no longer recognize
"there for the grace of God
go you and I"
have no name,
but if you need one for me,
call me
<human>
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 8:01 AM UTC
Hi there.
Sometimes it hurts to think.
I'm driving around in my hometown
I saw this old park that me and my friends would run and laugh and play at all the time.
We played cops and robbers
Lava Monster
Freeze tag
We acted like knights in strong armor and princesses with glittery dresses and we all slayed the dragons
Well now here I am staring at this old swing set that no one swings on anymore.
I used to think that I could touch the clouds with my feet if I swung high enough.
There is something so lively about a group of kids laughing and playing on a playground.
There is something so eerie about an old empty playground where no one goes.
That playground used to be so alive.
Now the swing creaks as it sways in the slight breeze.
You can almost hear faint whispers of the kids laughing from years before.
Now all those kids are adults with lives and responsibilities that are much more important than slaying a dragon.
The wood has splinters that get stuck in your fingers.
It is not shiny and fun anymore.
It used to be new
But I have found that everything changes eventually.
I wish people didn't leave so unexpectedly.
Anyways I am just rambling
but next time you see a playground
just try to look away.
it hurts to think too long
Bye.
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 7:10 PM UTC
I'm struggling with what it means to be a woman.
Does it mean that I am always in competition to be the top of my species?
Does it mean that I need to be perfect without a single curve out of line in order to find love?
Does it mean that I am only defined when owned by a man?
Does it mean that I can only find purpose in childbirth?
Does it mean that I will forever live in the shadow of men?
Does it mean that I am an object invented solely for a man's pleasure?
Does it mean that I'm forced to confine to gender roles and live in someone else's story?
Does it mean that I'm supposed to accept it when I'm harassed from across the street?
Does it mean that I'm supposed to lie there silent when he puts his hands up my skirt?
Does it mean that I am only worth 77 cents to a man’s dollar?
Does it mean that I am defined by my looks rather than my intelligence?
Does it mean that I will never be capable of holding a major position of power due to my mood swings?
Does it mean that I am defined by how many men I have had *** with?
Or does it mean something else entirely.
It's difficult learning to love being a woman.
Obvious and damaging disadvantages are visible to observers.
We are regarded as second best, property of our man.
We are erased from history, our pain is minimized and forgotten.
We are oppressed and have to fight for our rights.
We are afraid to walk the streets at night, afraid for our lives.
We are harassed without care and without penalty.
We are ***** and murdered for refusing proposals.
We are expected to live on the sidelines as a housewife whose only priority should be her children.
We are expected to keep quiet in situations of domestic abuse.
We are expected to be perfect, and pretty, fresh for a man’s picking.
We can’t even advocate for our own equality without being demonized.
There are times where I wish I wasn’t a woman.
Being a woman comes with innumerable expectations, pressures, and responsibilities.
My existence is not defined by a man, or by the patriarchal expectations that have been placed on me.
I am breaking free of my confinements and I’m not afraid to admit that,
I'm struggling with what it means to be a woman. And that's okay.
//sarahmann
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 3:10 AM UTC
They drove me across the country,
from the busy city where we departed
to intimate villages where they recessed,
and spent a star filled, moonlit night
singing songs,
their bodies casting long, wavy shadows
from campfires they huddled around.
Just as I got too cold and my wheels
couldn't turn anymore
did they finally turn the spark plugs,
revving and igniting my despair and sensitivity
producing heat.
Sometimes they pushed
until I shoved
and scraped my rubber
on asphalt,
on rocks,
on sand,
on boulders big and small,
and I hit a flat-line;
the air I could hold in
no longer.
They rode me into a forest
whose undergrowth was as thick
as a bears' fur during the winter,
and redwood that spanned the horizon
you thought it could pat the constellations.
A forest teeming with life that
one would react like Wendy from Peter Pan--
never wanting to leave Neverland.
And I could see it in their
soft faces and squinting eyes,
bright and lit up with joy,
every detail apparent
as if I burst my headlights into high-beam,
directly on them.
It was there I ran out
of gas and my engines
parched for oil,
from the endless adventure
that was exhilarating and memorable.
One could, as a result,
easily forget responsibilities.
There was no service or refill station nearby,
so I was abandoned where I parked,
flat tires, rusty hood, broken chassis,
dilapidated suspension.
I've proved my worth
from when I was brought in
and over time
it wasn't enough.
Only repairing, never maintaining.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
Life is a lifelong
Balancing act
Time that's wasted
Never comes back
But hear my quandary
It's really quite queer
What happens when my job
Conflicts with my career?
What happens when my schooling
Disrupts my education?
When federal government policies
Keep me from graduation?
What happens when my GPA
Keeps me out of universities?
What happens when what I need to do
Conflicts with my responsibilities?
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 5:27 PM UTC
So I just did some math.
This week,
according to the numbers,
I've consumed on average
375 calories a day.
Call it 500.
I have no appetite;
I'm stressed;
It's hot;
I'm ill.
This relapse is
not like the ones I know.
It's so subconscious
I'm drowning
trying to fix it.
I tremble as I write this.
I don't know how I get through the day.
But I do know,
there is a mountain
of responsibilities
that I must manage
regardless.
I can't just over medicate
and play games
when I'm stressed.
I can't rest when I'm sick.
I must bare it all,
for both of us.
I'm being crushed
by this mountain.
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 7:36 PM UTC
As the sun navigates the sky
Ages will pass and time will come by
When the stars were shining, I was growing up
Responsibilities had settled in
And before I knew it,
I forgot about the stars
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 9:47 AM UTC
every hit i take
is a step closer to happiness
the higher i am
the less i feel
push all the conflict away
my responsibilities
are no longer
being faced
falling faster and faster
i cant stop
they forgot to mention
the higher you are
the further you fall
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 1:32 AM UTC
I love you
because the Earth turns round the sun
because the North wind blows north
sometimes
because the Pope is Catholic
and most Rabbis Jewish
because winters flow into spring
and the air clears after a storm
because only my love for you
despite the charms of gravity
keeps me from falling off the Earth
into another dimension
I love you
because it is the natural order of things
I love you
like the habit I picked up in college
of sleeping through lectures
or saying I’m sorry
when I get stopped for speeding
because I drink a glass of water
in the morning
and chain-smoke cigarettes
all through the day
because I take my coffee Black
and my milk with chocolate
because you keep my feet warm
through my life a mess
I love you
because I don’t want it
any other way
I am helpless
in m love for you
It makes me so happy
to hear you call my name
I am amazed you can resist
locking me in an echo chamber
where your voice reverberates
through the four walls
sending me into spasmatic ecstasy
I love you
because it’s been so good
for so long
that if I didn’t love you
I’d have to be born again
and that is not a theological statement
I am pitiful in my love for you
The Dells tell me Love
is so simple
the thought though of you
sends indescribably delicious multitudinous
thrills throughout and through-in my body
I love you
because no two snowflakes are alike
and it is possible if you stand tippy-toe
to walk between the raindrops
I love you
because I am afraid of the dark
and can’t sleep in the light
because I rub my eyes
when I wake up in the morning
and find you there
because you with all your magic powers were
determined that
I should love you
because there was nothing for you but that
I would love you
I love you
because you made me
want to love you
more than I love my privacy
my freedom my commitments
and responsibilities
I love you 'cause I changed my life
to love you
because you saw me one friday
afternoon and decided that I would
love you
I love you I love you I love you
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 10:21 AM UTC
Oh, the oldest sibling.
Be it your brother.
Be it your sister.
Somewhere in your life you'll be reminded of your parents.
Whether it was your mother.
Or simply your father.
When they speak.
Instantly by the things they say.
You know, who they got them from?
When they tries to be disciplinaries of the rules.
This is when they truly begins to bug you.
That they mostly must put up a defense for a fight.
Or hear they not mom or dad.
And they better lay out with the hands.
Oh, the oldest sibling.
They had a task of responsibilities to hold up.
All young ones know they was the symbol of being the role model.
Used to point out to the young ones.
Wasn't offer to much room to get into trouble.
But when you older.
You soon becomes to love them.
Yes, the oldest.
Who reminds you of so many others?
Who many of times was more responsible?
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 10:39 AM UTC
You-
you have a lot on your plate
and me-
I am just pushed in next to the others
that weigh you down while you're trying to carry
a thanksgiving meal of responsibility
and at the same time not be crushed by it-
You don't like it when your food touches.
So there I am waiting at the edge of all the chaos
trying not to step over boundaries or cross the line
I am just another thing thrown onto your plate
of responsibilities.
I am a shadow.
A walking disaster.
And I try to avoid all the things
that are so ferociously trying to bring you back down-
but all I do is end up making it worse
making all your **** end up touching
so it becomes a mountain upon your shoulders
that eventually turns into a chip upon it-
you have gone concave-
you became acute when you were once so obtuse
so full of life
so 180 degrees out of everyone else's ******* box
and I closed you in.
Made you realize what you needed to make yourself small
so you could eventually fit the plate just right on your shoulders.
I try to take the weight-
try to pick it all up myself and do something to help you get through
but I just end up touching everything-
You don't like it when your food touches.
You-
you are concave in my convex world
always looking inside yourself-
always hiding away inside of the parts of yourself
I will never see because I'm too busy looking outward
to find something I can do for you.
We are trigonometry-
which is the only type of math I was ever good at in school
but I can't seem to find the right angle anymore
you are too scalene and not enough isosceles
there's no symmetry in the way you look at me-
there's too many different sides to you.
I'd like to think I've seen them all
I'd like to think I've solved what degree
every angle you feed me turns out to be-
but it seems that the angles aren't what I should be finding.
You're just a circle-
I can find your radius
but I don't have enough of you anymore
to find your circumference.
We will always be abstract.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
I slip under with a cry
and am lost to the depths,
sinking ever deeper
into the blue
as though bound by
ball and chain
What I pass on my way down
is not glittering schools
of fish
or the benevolent
sea turtle,
but a circling, snarling
mob of responsibilities,
a sight more menacing
than even
the most cadaverous
shark
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
I truly believe that one of the reasons that the US is despised and condemned world wide is because of such views on such characteristics as: honesty, integrity, independence(this includes not thinking in a collective mindset which we do as a culture, everything is apple or windows, pepsi or cola, republican or democrat, people need to think for themselves stop claiming and just be), persistence, determination, morale, empathy, tradition/heritage, learning, chivalry, discernment, and humility.
Instead of utilizing and perfecting these people of this nation and similar one's have become: prideful, dependent, drive-less, imprudent/unwise, insulting, ignorant(willfully so), objective, biased, crude, mediocre, and surface oriented.
In turn we have neglected the responsibilities we have of ourselves. This has resulted in physical, mental, and spiritual capacity regression on a mass scale. Most people have no idea what they are consuming in their daily dietary intake(I mean really know what all the ingredients are and what they do whether positive or negative). Most citizens have also become, literally and according to the United Nations Education Scientific and Cultural Organization, mentally incapable and completely inane as compared to even 15yrs ago. We have forgotten how to have a community to the point that neighbors don't know each other anymore. We have exchanged the truly important things in life like knowledge and wisdom for wealth and appearance. We have completely forgotten how to survive without the aid of water treatment, electricity, and useless objects. One of the worst of all things we have stopped doing, is being involved with our government; instead, we have put our trust in them without oversight, and this is why we have been losing our liberties. I believe, just like Benjamin Franklin stated, that any individual who sacrifices even one liberty for safety/security... deserves to have all of their liberties eradicated.
In conclusion, it is time to return our societies to ourselves. We need to relearn the truly important things in life and start living with ourselves, each other, and nature as we must to thrive. It is on us as a people to repair what generations before us, and our generations are doing; lest, I am afraid, our children and grandchildren will inherit the same ideals and expand upon them until we regress to the point that insolence, ignorance, and imprudence is the common norm... we have already begun to accept these. Open your eyes to the truth, at first it will be painful and difficult, but than you will be set free. WE THE PEOPLE ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR OUR FUTURES AND CHILDREN'S FUTURES.
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 12:18 AM UTC
I'm tired of being alive
I'm tired of not wanting to be alive
I'm tired of having responsibilities
I'm tired of pretending like everything is okay
I'm tired of going to a house that 'im suppose to call my “home ” but it’s not that at all
Its a roof over my head to keep me warm but not to keep me sane
I'm insane
I'm tired of thinking i'm insane
I'm tired of arguing
I'm tired of having to put in headphones to block out the world
I'm tired of living in a world where money is the number one priority because without money you have nothing
I'm tired of the world
i'm tired of writing about my feelings
I'm tired of hiding my feelings
I'm tired of feelings
I'm tired of thinking
I'm tired of breathing
I'm tired of being tired ..
-n.a.
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC
*
How many times we starved ourselves
dreaming something that we can’t have…
How many times we deprived ourselves
from wanting the life we wanted the most
just because we lack something or
having the practical mind that it is not for us…
Sometimes we starved ourselves to limit our flight.
Bound by rules, responsibilities, duties,
or even culture, tradition and religion…
Despite all that, we balance everything
for what’s right, what feels right
The Weighing of the Heart ---
*
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
I reside in you but come out rarely
Like a virus, I appear
Expelling symptoms,
at times severe
I wait until you feel no control...
I elude to the fact that nothing's going right
I cause and irritation that puts up a fight
I will make you feel nothing's alright
Scream, scream
You cannot run from me
You will never be free, as long as you have responsibilities
I'm there...
Daily life begins to take a toll,
and your mood swings are really getting old
But alas you have to do what you're told
The frustration!
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
A Man who believes
In word of affirmation,
To love and cherish a woman
Entice with his natural charms
To court a real woman,never
Mistreat her with his immature
Mistakes
A Real Man,A nor womanizer
Who impregnates bunch of girls
To use his babies,as a trophy
For the glory as of a stolen
Diamond to his gang.
A Lad who spread legs
Of a Lady for dump victory
To find gold.
But,He who takes responsibilities
When they occurs and never denies,is a man.
Who share a burden of his brokenheart
Angel and embrace,
Is whom who wakes up early,
Say a prayer and hustle to care
For his family,and never backs down.
Vanquish life with vasted hopes.
A Man who knows Man's presence
To a Woman's heart...
...He is The True Essence Of A Real Man
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 6:55 AM UTC
How many marbles can you fit into a bowl until you say you can't count them?
I do not want events layered upon events.
Birthdays toppling over birthdays:
a layer cake of responsibilities that aren't 'responsibilities'.
That do not count.
That cannot be measured or described as taxing or numerous.
I am outnumbered by numberless nonsense.
I am outweighed by weightless wafting pleasantries;
and opportunities;
and life-sustaining things;
that bowl me over.
My womb is a desert called Death Valley and you wish to comb it for antique glass bottles.
I care not.
I cannot partake in any more suggestions of what I might do with my 'free time'.
But you're not feeling the tingling sensation in your gut every time you wake up and the lights don't turn on.
The wheels don't work.
The mechanical arms don't move like they are supposed to.
Like the parts of you you're supposed to have on automatic have just given up the ghost and abandoned you.
You're alone and miserable and none of it rings any bells.
None of it gives out any signs.
None of it counts.
I'm crying because the milk spilled and there isn't any milk left anywhere in the world.
We're out.
We're just the land of Honey now.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 12:43 AM UTC
We all bear scars in one way or other.
Some from loving someone too deeply and some others from losing someone or something that you cared too much for.
Some scars are intentional while some others exist for stupid silly reasons.
Some we are but some we are not so proud of.
I have scars all over my body.
All over my mind and all over my soul.
I have scars on my brain due to over thinking and over analyzing incidents that haven’t even happened yet.
I have scars on my eyes for shutting it more often, for being blind to things that should’ve been taken care of.
I have scars on my nose from all those endless snobs and sniffles from my horrifying past relationships.
I have scars on my mouth from speaking the truth, only the truth and nothing but the truth.
I have scars on my neck from getting choked up on false love and fake proposals.
I have scars on my shoulders from lifting up responsibilities that I was accustomed to from an early age.
I have scars on my hands from holding onto things that weren’t supposed to be mine from the very start.
I have scars on my chest from my ice cold heart that has been stomped over and over multiple times.
I have scars on my lungs from the “occasional” stress buster cigarettes that I am addicted to every now and then.
I have scars on my stomach from one too many butterflies that flew when we first met.
I have scars on my legs from running, miles away from people and that place I used to call home.
I have scars on my skin from the many tattoos I got done that helps me reassure my self-worth.
I have scars on my soul from trying hard to pull myself together, calm me down and compose myself through the rampant storm that’s been raging in my life.
I have all these scars. All of them.
And they don’t scare me now even though they hurt like hell, at times.
They’ve become a part of me and looking back, they are just reminders of who I was, what I have been through my life and the person it has made me become.
They don’t scare me anymore because they define who I am now.
A survivor.
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 2:04 AM UTC
You'll have more bad days than good.
You'll experience more pain
than you should have to.
At times, you'll feel broken; weak.
But you're stronger than you would think.
And when you find that strength,
that reason to stand,
you will come to understand
you have new responsibilities.
Responsibilities to yourself.
To the ones you let in.
Even responsibilities to the ones
who get under your skin.
You've come so far already,
but there's still so much to do.
I'll leave you to it.
I just want you to know I'm proud of you.
Jan 23, 2022
Jan 23, 2022 at 7:37 PM UTC
The news arrived
Of the new arrival.
We grant him
All the Rights,
Privileges,
And Responsibilities
Accorded to
A son, brother,
And grandson.
May his endowment
Of love and honour
Stand him in good stead.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
I have always
had pride
in my independence
Always made
my own decisions
made my own friends
done my own work
As all others
I learned this
at a young age;
this self-reliance
of sorts
It is freeing
to have freedom
and relieving
to be relieved
of responsibilities
that are not mine
But it is nice
to think of myself
as small
and dependent
on mommy and daddy
because it was a
simpler
time.
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
To write food in the stomach
Of every hungry child.
To spell war as peace,
Metaphorize flowers into the barrel
Of every gun on Earth.
The poet has responsibilities
Beyond those of mothers,
Of kings and presidents.
I refuse to give up hope;
This could be a poem world.
Come on, write your worst piece
Of literature.
Even misprints may give other
Meanings to a word,
Write me a green sky, blue dirt,
Trees the colour of air.
Sometimes the best poets
Have the least to say,
So keep writing, write until your
Fingers fall asleep.
Write until you havent slept
For weeks in search of that word,
That one right word,
Then rest on a notebook pillow
And dream the world right.
Write the world right.
There is no such thing as
Wasted poetry.
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 6:08 AM UTC
Mother always says you are your father’s child,
So , since he’s an alcoholic … & a dead beat dad….
Does that change me into something bad …?
At some point in 2004, my father stopped being a father at all.
He stopped calling, stopped trying, and ultimately,
Stopped caring.
Does that mean that I stopped caring too?
The fact that my father's an *** hole
to the highest degree and chose
Drugs and alcohol over his own daughter….
Does that change the fact that I am anything but him.
Does it make a difference that he no longer cares
or tries to have any relationship with me or the fact
He abandoned all responsibilities and therefore lost all of my respect?
I will always be the "father's daughter" I longed for,
yet never achieved.
I'll have my "daddy issues" to talk about in group.
They tried to fix me with a med
That sick pill taste like lead
Perhaps shock therapy instead
he did zap me till I wished I was dead
The fact that my father did nothing but
Beat me
Bruise me
Bleed me
Hurt me
Break me
so Does that change me into something bad …?
Does this change that I was always told that I'd end up just like him?
Does this change the times I longed for his hugs,
Does it change the memories I hold of being held in his drug ridden hands
and the smell of alcohol on his clothes?
Will I ever come to make amends with the man who brought me into
this world just to abandon me in the same world?
Will he ever know how much I hurt?
Does that change me into something bad …?
Will I Ever be someone different from him
Does that change the fact that I am anything but him.
And that I long for everything but Him!
Layal Charara – October 6th 2014
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 5:04 AM UTC