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Sincerely Em Nov 2016
Independence .. From the shoulds and shouldn'ts  
Independence .. I'm thirsty to explore
My soul yearns to sail at sea .. My body chains me to the shore
Chains are only people .. Only minds afraid to look

And I .. I slowly start liberating from the rules in their book
Part 5
Aubrey Nov 2014
Should be using this pilfered and minimal wifi
and, man, it seems that time does fly...
while I'm procrasti-time-wasting reading bad (well, most of it) poetry.
You see I'm used to feeling like I've missed the boat
and shown my hand and slit my own **** throat...
"It's his own fault."
How terrifying and amazing (faux)freedom is...
blood and water and choices.
Life is frosted and sort of sleeping
but not shivering
enduring.
It's too bad I identify with the grasshopper more than the ant.
I can't be bothered with preparation
because Right Now.
Right Now is full of hows and whys and whens
and so many that depend
upon shoulds and coulds and ifs
and I-need-to-make-a-lists.
It seems that I prefer the anxiety of what could be
to what is.
Control freak.
Sitting here, with my cold nose and sore bones
and more than my usual non-layer of clothes
with two very interesting up-past-their-bedtime individuals
there is no regret.
It is, and it isn't, over yet.
Supposing pity isn't the word choice,
how else would you say, "I feel for you,"
without that voice?
And even saying it is a choice I'd rather not make.
That's the thing about leaving the cage and toeing the line and finding the road...
there is no map.
You can either enjoy the journey
or feel like, "It's a trap."
Sombro Mar 2016
Shoulds
Have horns
And ram reindeer with
Thistle bush antlers

I grow
From the seeds of others
Leaf green
As lilac winter tells me.

And the advice of others
Protects
Culpability from
The mouth of a sweet whisper.

Shoulds
Grow fangs
And live in dark forests
I know this to be their opinion.

I live
Longer longings
I rise
With every new day

And they, are still there
Dressed in soft leather,
Stirring teas and
Ready to tell me paths ahead

Predicting the worst weather
Without knowing the storm
They condone.
Advice.
Advice and friends
Zach Schuller Apr 2016
sometimes,
The music is just too **** loud
But we know the silence would be louder.
Because its not really silence,
We like to think it is,
But weve filled it with silent shouts
Cries for help
Proclamations of faith
Admirations of beauty
We have filled it with violent yelling
About realities that should not be
Say we should not suffer
No one should suffer; We
Fill the nothing with shoulds and woulds
A reality in which nothing is as it should be
And everyone would be happy if only-
We create a world in which no one is happy
Yet everyone wants to be
So we walked around seeing
Darkened hues, blacks and blues,
Bruises and scars from scarier times
When we didnt know we were going to make it
We pretended like we were.
But here we are now still not convinced
Did all of me make it
Or did I leave something behind
Because in the fantastically human reality
Of shoulds and woulds and shouting
Who are we to say who we are
When we cant even stand the music?
Hayleigh Jan 2015
She is a natural disaster
confused and misunderstood
waiting on the promise you made
to help clear up
the hurricanes, tsunamis,
forest fires, the floods,
the self doubt, the grief,
the regrets, the 'shoulds'.
she is a natural disaster.
and you promised you'd be there after
to pick up the debris and aftermath,
to sweep away, the damage, the ash,
to help her dig amongst the rubble
and find and rediscover her smile, her laugh
to help her decipher between the
good and the trash
to help her crumble and then reconstruct
to help her rebuild
stronger foundations
than those laid
in her childhood.
I should have held on to you longer in those fleeting moments.
Not pushing you away because of the fear I felt in my heart.
When I kissed you it should have been slower.
Deeper with each breath so that I could hold on to the electric feeling that surges between us when we have the slightest touch.
I should stop and chat with you longer when you probe into how I am doing when you see me.
You still know when I am putting on a front to the world with fancy hair and made up face.
You see it in my eyes and that is something that can't be hidden from those who have held your heart in their hands gently.
Closing up the wounds with soothing word bandages and healing love stitches.
I shouldn't tell you no when you say you want to see me or just need someone to talk to in the middle of the night.
I don't sleep after I tell you no because my mind wanders to the what ifs.
I should look you in the eye and memorize the planes of that face that lights up the darkness in my soul with each smirk and smile.

Next time we have a moment I will take all the advantages that I can.
If it be conversation, I will hold on to every word you say as if they were the oxygen needed to breathe.  
If it be touch, I will let that touch linger past socially accepted confines.
If it be kiss, I will taste that kiss as if it were the best thing I had ever eaten in my life.
And if it be rekindled love, I will hold out my heart to you willingly, taking and giving much more than I did before.
I will continue to be more accepting to your advances and not confuse you with my nerves.
I should have done this and I should have done that.
I will do this and I will do that.
Evan Backward Sep 2013
I don't want to be depressed anymore.
The shoulds and woulds
All wrapped up in why did he
And how could she.
Eating slowly at the bonds I've formed
With people.
Human beings that are doing their best
But never good enough for me,
For perfection.
I'd rather be dead.

I don't want to be upset anymore
With the strangers on the bus
In their garb of business and ***
That they speak with boisterous joy
They should be considerate of me
And speak louder to drown out my thoughts.
Maybe I could drown them out on my own.

I want to be content
Because I want to do the dishes and use them
I want to ***** the floors and wash them again,
I want to see the beauty in a teapot and the joy in a
soft pillow
To see what it is to comfort a weathered soul.
I want to uphold routine.

I want to be happy
Because I love to feel alive
And I love to feel in love.
I love to love you and I want to do that for me
And maybe you'll do it for you too.
I want to sit with you in silence
And discuss soda in the coffee shop,
I want to look at you and cry
In gratitude
The only thing I can feel for you
And I know I will.

I want to live a life,
Because I want to be alive.
PrttyBrd Feb 2018
elephants stomping on my head
laugh as they draw blood
fragmented ideals scatter in the wind
as trampled dreams mix with dust

cemented in 'supposed to'
hiding behind other people's 'shoulds'
jackhammer disappointment
crushes bones with broken boundaries

play me a song
to make it look pretty
and I'll pretend to dance
with you in foggy yesterday's

karaoke soundtracks
to a stranger's tears
that leave the heart blind
tripping acid just to see in forgotten colors

breathing bacteria
from the soles of shoes
wiped on my forehead
as they said, 'hello'

a mosaic of skull puzzles
grouted in the remnants of the ****
left behind as everyone
just walks away

shadows smell clean in dark corners
where colors are left to die
in clouds of expectation
leaving truth buried in the ruble

...of who they thought I was
22318
138w
inthewater Mar 2018
Did you think about me
When you walked into the woods
Did you think about your family
Or only of the shoulds?

Knife in your hand
Did you think about how life isn't fair?
Ready to take your stand
Did you not think your kids would care?

Blade to your stomach
Did you feel the pain?
Already making your summit
Was my love just in vain?

Blade to your chest
Did you stutter at all?
Did you realize you were committing theft?
Then you began to fall

Blade to your wrist
Did your life flash before your eyes?
Not even for a split
Second, did you think about how we would cry?

Blade to your neck
How did you do it?
You turned our lives awreck
Then you made the final slit

As you laid on the ground
As your blood soaked that leaf
Did you make a final sound?
Or were you content with your relief?

As we searched in the woods
We prayed for you
And we thought of the coulds
Our heart turned blue

Then we got the news
They found your body
People began to accuse
Us of your death, oddly

Time went by
And our grief remained
Now we look to the sky
Whenever you are named
Please reach out to 1-800-273-8255 if you need someone to talk to! you are loved more than you know.
090116

Lies, shame; innocence ruined
Feeling exposed? Uncovered?
Shame & blame, are a constant theme;
Shame came about,
As a direct result of sin.

That evil twin notion of shame,
That good twin notion of shoulds,
Both are responses to the same root problem.

Inner character, God can truly see;
And those stifling atmosphere
Of work, duty, & expectations
All have nothing to do
With the heart of God.

We tremble in shame,
Wrapped in a sheet or a shift;
But we're a lot closer to salvation now
Than once we're in all our finery.

We're naked in our sins
'Til Jesus died and rose again!
To clothe us in righteousness
Rather than with layers of works & legalism.

Human efforts are so uncomfortable;
It's difficult, useless, and endless work
Of clothing ourselves in a spiritual sense.
But when we admit our need for Him,
In His righteousness & grace,
We can truly rest!

Let us not slip into a place
A place of spiritual nakedness & shame.
Come back now,
Fling open the door of every heart,
For we base our hopes on healing
On what is real, not on how we feel.

Now we plant seeds of redemption
Forget shame, receive lavish blessings
How could such a wonderful thing possibly happen?
Keith W Fletcher Aug 2018
How nice it would be
if all Beauty was free and homesteads
were home to all
no honking horns or voice raised issuing rampant scorns
to pass unfiltered through the innocent ears of children
but then again... nothing is perfect except for..
. maybe thunder
for it is the loud,  proud voice of perfection
rolling or booming never assuming to be what it is not
like the voice of God
As it was described in those scriptures told
in the verses of old
so with each clap
Of lightning created sound
we either jump or smile
As we know it brings
A needed refrain
of nourishing rain

there is nothing sweeter than
walking in the rain
of autumn
for the leaves paint
the ground all around and happiness abounds
it's a promise of relaxing winter husband starting fires both of heat and desires
While mother share secrets with daughters both shoulds and  not aughters  ha!
But such is the way it has been
from time immortals very beginning
and should continue to be
as long as....
God's Great Earth keeps on spinning !
K Mae Jul 2012
Wearied by choice
I deny that I make
as simple and complex
as time give and take
Blame love
my cravings
my duty my shoulds
Passions the seasons
there's no lack of reasons
when drama is over
I know once again
I bring it all to me
in all the disguises
I'm playing my games
and I choose  my prizes
Ann Beaver Nov 2013
There are white streaks
in her hair
on your arm
in his blood vessels
between the lines I say and don't say
below the dark sea
above the "you" and the "me"
See them or don't
won't you unveil
prevail
re-sell this vision of adulthood
with all it's woulds and shoulds
with all it's white streaks:
where you are just a "hi"
and I am just a good "bye"
Anthony Reid Mar 2012
Seems people gather round, to put another down, they wear the face that fits,
Deal into the game, an’ keep on castin' shame – to make sure all mud sticks.
I wonna see the strange, some mind among the maze – some heart true to itself,
A difference in the craze, a spark aside the blaze – a card without the tell.

Bickerin' an' plans, pickin' who holds hands – all lovin' when it loans,
Thicker than quick hands, your little clicks n' clans, all governed by the code.
Everyone their own, everyone on thrones – free of all known flaws,
Seems no-one is at home, 'least no-one I ain’t known – just take what isn't yours.

You’re puttin’ flags in dreams, you’re fresher than the breeze, you're free and standin' tall,
You're much more than you seem, you're deeper than the seas - can't see me I'm so small.
All good traits and thoughts, go pass 'em off as yours, you live that little lie,
More worthy than the cause, more righteous than all laws – go give until you die.

Rifts n’ rounds, same old sounds. I wish an’ I wait, an’ I hide every hate.
Twist n’ turn. You live – I learn. I sleep only to dream away nightmares I’ve seen.

You walk on those like me, want us to kiss your feet – like we've done all our lives,
Come show us how you're there, blow some of that hot air – an’ hide a pitied light.
The feet keep passin' by, beneath familiar skies, they're drownin' out the sounds,
Of anyone who tries, or anyone who cries - or anythin' so loud.

Although we're each our own, although we each have grown, although we're all of soul,
You dither like a drone, to that unending tone - like all the set in stone.
When speakin' of the said, you put all else to bed, that fails to fight your cause,
When tellin' of your tolls, you dwell on all that holds you high with due applause.

Drop it in a mention, steer all that attention, to the fact you're sublime,
When reminiscin' deeds, be sure to drop the steeds, that bore you to the line.
I wanna stop you all, so you can hear the call, and dawn a better day,
I wanna drop the ball, want everything to fall, I want another way.

The cares I keep keep runnin’ deep. There’s an ocean of thought, but a drop have you caught.
I give – you take, You bounce – I break. An abundance of dreams, but a glimpse have you seen.

Sittin' on my own, suddenly I'm old, can’t name a likened friend,
Tryin' to recall, the day I took this fall, when real life became pretend.
Once I knew I could, once I knew of love, but now I know it's spent,
'Shouldn't haves' and 'shoulds' - with befriendees and bloods – I don't know where I went.

They brag of their intents, and never implement – but minds my mouth calls great,
I sit and complement – few words of which are meant – there's nothin’ left to take.
I'm 'Mr. Doesn't Fight', been 'Mr. Too Polite' – it's all they now expect,
I want them faded sights, I wanna live my life – I'm tired of living less.
Hannah Turner Dec 2016
I met God tonight. We walked along the river bank, the trees were turning and the wind was brisk. It was much brighter than usual, dream-like as I finally plead my case:
“I’m sorry, I just can’t do this anymore” I finally say to break the silence.
“I know” He says understandably.
“I have no reasons to get out of bed in the morning. The only reason I do is because I should. I should go to work. I should go on a hike. I should try to live a normal life. The shoulds are what keep me alive and active and I can’t keep living on shoulds.

My mind is a never ending battlefield and I am exhausted. I’m fed up. I can’t keep living because I should. I can’t keep fighting the agony in my mind. I’ve lost hope.

Last time I found healing it was only to get torn apart even harder. This life has never been what I wanted, I keep trying and trying to make it work and nothing fits. It's not worth it anymore, it never has been..."
A long silence passes as I make my final point
"God, you and I both know I wasn’t meant for this world. I belong with you, in heaven finally experiencing peace for the first time. I belong with my Jesus whom I love. You are good and perfect and holy and that’s where I need to be, I need to be home.”

He takes a deep breath and responds in a fierce gentleness.
"My daughter, you cannot make it through this life without me, you’re right-you’re not strong enough. I want you to listen to me very clearly-depression and the enemy want to tear you apart. They want you to feel isolated.

You see, you are a great threat to the enemy-because he knows how much I will use you for the kingdom. He knows I will move mountains through you and change lives and open hearts through your story and faith. He knows my plans and he is terrified. He is doing everything in his power to destroy you, to turn your mind against itself, to give up on life so that you can’t do the great things I have planned for you.

Listen to me love, I am using you even now in ways you don’t even know. I’ve written your story from beginning to end and I plead with you to let me finish it. Take my hand, and let me walk through all of it with you. The hardships, the suffering, and yes-the joy, laughter, and love because I promise that’s in there too.

You are suffering greatly and you have suffered greatly for the majority of your life, but I made you strong-I made you strong with a heart and compassion that has no limits. You are a dreamer, a believer, and a fighter and it was essential the world needed you in it. You will come out the other side if you could just give me your hand, and let me be there every step of the way. You are precious in my eyes and I love you. I know you think you’re ready for heaven but you are not, there is so much more I want for you here.

Stay my love, stay and let me show you my plans. Stay and let me show you my love. Stay and grow and learn and live. You will never lose the fight to depression so long as you trust me to stay and to live. I love you sweet girl. You are my child, my daughter I died so that you could be mine forever, and I am so glad I did. I’m so glad you are my daughter.”

I give a half-smile and sigh. I take his hand and walk through the fire that surely awaits when I wake up.
Keith Ren Nov 2011
the overwhelm of shoulds

is


the undertow of woes
Anthony Reid Mar 2012
What is this shape upon my screen, away beneath the glass?
It moves and makes itself unseen, and stays behind the back.
It will not meet for words to hold, or rest in any riff,
I can not see for all my soul, or guess for all you’d give.

That face that people fear when seeing colours in the air,
The shapes we see and sounds we hear of others and their cares.
That shadow we create when giving all the ghosts a guise,
The blinding bellow we can make when living silent lives.

Where are those scenes I sat and saw, where are the words I want?
I’ve empty leaves and nothing more, and don’t deserve my salt.
What is this mind of countering the epics of the screen,
With hollow finds and bantering and echoes of a dream.

Where are those scripts I lived and loved, and those that just sprang forth?
They never lift into a form of ink enough to talk.
They are unmade and go on masked into hindsightful days,
As I just age, and look to last, and know the light’ll fade.

All those laughs and legends that ran long into the nights,
All the past and present, but a shadow in the light.
All those years I’ve let go by, those reams of sighted stage,
All smoke an’ soot an’ steam an’ sky, and tears on a page.

What is this mind attached to me? It seems to live itself,
While I am stuck it knows it’s free, while poor it swims in wealth.
What is this fire I never lit? It grows while I dissolve,
I’m just for hire – to service it. I’m just an earthly home.

The knowledge phantoms keep, with all their channels of control,
That rummaging and reaping through the shallows of my soul.
That thrusting in their trail, all the sparks a man can see,
Sinking deep into a smile neither knowing nor asleep.

Why are the gems of Hollywood a wish that never came?
Because we tend the sorry shoulds an’ I don’t take the aim.
Why are the plots and persons but a memory worn away?
Because the lost in purpose is the one to waste a day.

The word has never led the will, the schooled not feathered from the quill.
From small of men to all heights, he calls on them and brings the light.
From in that black that joins the sparks, to feats of fact that leave me lost.
From one so filled with a vacant head, to an over-killed that joined the dead.

A token of the tanglin’ waitin’ in the web you watch,
Is the moment where your hands in and you’re wonderin’ if it’s hot,
A headline for your home place, it’s a banner for the brain,
There’s a deadline on the dope mate, ‘less the stammer go insane.

A step of soul, or swim ashore, I left the boat and lost the oars.
A stepping stone, an open door. From all I know to all and more.
A mighty feat. A single orb. A slight of sleep or beam aboard.
From one idea to total things, come walk the wire without the strings.

An accident? Or course to be? This insolent thought he was free.
From being awful, being dammed. To being an orphan of his land.
Shoulds't i venture out
Into the wet cooling wind
To feel the rain
Moisten my bare legs

And as the wind blows
Through my wild skittish hair
The silver globules
Disguise my tears

The damp briskness
Will awaken my emotions
Will let me
Feel alive

The clammy cloudy clouds
Leaking gently
Feeding
A thirsty nature

The wind
May blow away
My shrouded
Emotions

The slow drip, drop
Silver rivers
Their under bellies
Belie, race downwards

Upon my window
Trickles
Like sticky tears
Gluey opalescence

by Jemia
Cinzia May 2017
Shhhh, there's no hurry,
nowhere we have to be
there'll be time,
later,
to be stuck in traffic,
dishes piled in the sink
will be done

all the shoulds that shake us down
shush them
rock them in your arms
it'll be okay, it'll be okay
even when it isn't
Ann Beaver Apr 2013
Black boxes.
Smell of delicate decay
like kindling first catching fire.
Pigeons bathing in the gutter
glitter and iridescent feathers
covered in the banal bile of boys,
their insides strewn on the ground.

Fire ant mound,
stepping on those was my childhood.
Coulds and woulds and shoulds
creating those is my adulthood.
RJ Days Jan 2016
Soft flakes are held aloft while drifting down
to keep those splendid structures quite intact;
Then up from pavement–piling on firm ground–
they halt all urban bustle in its tracks;
Strong plows have tried their best to push snow back,
but once this weather starts I’ve lost control;
It’s time to settle in, hear branches crack
and with my quilts and ***** I'll fight the cold.
How odd that every day has such a hold,
hurling the musts and shoulds with all its might,
until those tiny flakes conspire to scold
nice days for their mad toil and grant respite:
Sometimes it takes the ice and slush outside
to truly feel the warmth from which I hide.
This is my first Spenserian sonnet. I'm getting behind on my sonnet game. I know Shakespeare won't be writing anymore, but that's no excuse for dawdling. 155 or Burst!
InsertPenName Nov 2018
Is hard to sleep when the mind keeps screaming
Instead of dreaming it's choosing to blur the reality a little more
Brimming with shoulds and should nots
Couldn't and could've been
But we would not succumb
Replaying the same memory of the second defeat so we don't morph into an headless hero
Ones and zeroes bounce restless in relentless persuite of the truth
You're a hero even if your greatest feat is not flinging yourself off the cliff
Everyone wants to fly but once in sky
You'll be dying to land and you land too hard you die
You're trying too hard you're not trying hard enough
Which one is it, do we take the next step of giveup
The next step is breathing
So vote maybe?
But it isn't so bad if you look closely
We're not alone but a bit lonely
In a crowd going about discredited the happening
Cutting off the threads, we can't move we're just dangling
The one thing, out if pills of sanity
Spring from attachment
We now have chose between two addictions
We'd rather be free and starve than be behind bars
So we let go
We exist at extremes
They exist in middle
We meet twice everytime
Graze by each other
A bit of refill of regret
A living reminder
We can't sleep
Can't shake the fright
The voices are back in the house
They're looking for a fight
We might let them win this time
Marie Stehlikova Dec 2012
Three a.m.,
Friday morning,
Haunting, wake in bed.
Just like always,
Who could possibly satisfy the yearning,
when oranges and coffees are bad?

Sweaty fingers,
Burning toes,
Covers hide me, from their pointless lows,
My laughing while crying, moaning,
Yes, I do quite enjoy,
Misery-filled could, would shoulds.

Open one eye,
Too hard,
Close again,
Don’t move,
Not an inch,
Not surely or slowly,
No one shall me remove,
When they whisper words into your head,
Who knew, rock bottom, would be so exciting, tranquil and new?

Their footsteps gave up,
Knocking no more,
Pulling no more,
Begging no more,
For I broke their view of beauty,
When my moods were indeed moody.

Hello?
Now loud, unrestrained and clear.
Slow start, swift prance no more
Johnny’s holding me, forever and always,
Protecting me from,
All you *******, culpable cowards.
Kamini May 2015
Sometimes life is quiet, don't push.
There are no 'shoulds'.
Peace is inner silence,
Be still and listen to the
Quiet whisper of your soul.

She is powerful in her silence.
No need to make noise to be seen
No need to make show to be heard
Get in there, deep inside
And rest in the dance.

Know your flow that
Bubbles and burbles along.
Don't be clever, simple is good.
Simple is quiet.

She is sleeping in the shade,
Your inside self.
She who dances to the song
In your heart is quietly listening
To the rhythm of your soul beat.

Cradle your knowing,
Your hearts lullaby will
Rock your soul and
Fan the fire of sleeping passion.

Come little one your feet
Have wings that angels envy
And your eyes closed to darkness
Sparkle like a galaxy of stars
On a moonlit sea.

Come, rock gently, rest.
Sometimes life is quiet
Don't push or pull.
Listen to the hum of the silence
Be still, let HER dance.
2 May 2013
Overwhelmed Jan 2011
I graze now
boarding schools
of the highest
and utmost
quality

I want to run away
I want to start a new life
I want to create a new me,
in a new place,
in a new
world

I have reached the highest
point I can ever reach here

where can I go beyond this?

I’ve exhausted the resources
of my friends;
I’ve climbed the rungs of
power in theatre, poetry,
leadership;
I’ve created a society of
lies to protect myself and
hide myself from the truth
of the world, even as the
truth of my personality
slowly eats away at my
innards until I am hollow
and whistle in the wind

I do not take this act lightly,
I do not take abandoning my
friends,
my many years of work,
my reputation, good and bad.
I do not want to take what
I am away, but,
for my own sake,
I must

I deserve a new start,
a fresh start,
where I can be
whoever I want to be

I was gypped out of this opportunity
by birth, by my stable and even life
lived in only three houses, by my
poor luck to be so lucky, as to have
as good a life as I have been blessed

I do not complain about that
I complain about the jealousy
it boils in me for those people
whose parents are infirm and
irresponsible;
who are dragged from place
to place, never setting down
deep roots, by their owners;
who are given the opportunity
to be constantly dynamic whilst
my only option is to flounder
amongst a static tank

I am pained
by all this

by all this hate,
I have for the things
I love

by all these contradictions,
of the shoulds and
should-nots

by me,
showing, for once,
my human side
I cannot make sense
of the why’s and
the how’s
that my brain has
concluded thus
that I should move,
forget my past,
and start
anew
Maya Tod Dec 2014
I glaze a look at the street, from

our apartment window.



You are coming slowly, teetering

one leg in front other, with back slightly hunched forward,

burdened with sleepless nights and yesterday’s undones.

Vibrant spirit once you had is lost, tossed among crowded

train wagons, useless meetings and broken deadlines.



One vein in the left corner of your forehead, swells, pulses in the rhythm

of your dark, fuddled thoughts as unremitting, sprouting baldness

reflects evening lights.



Still, I smile,

for you are here, with me in all this madness

we call life, half diced with wants and haunts that braid

every tomorrow we greet together.



I would like to put you in a different frame, picture of

nor “Yeses” nor “Nos”,

just us, being us, each moment celebrating

without lamenting for what “ifs” or “shoulds” and “coulds”.



Still, I smile,

as  I watch you battle your restless leg syndrome,

wrestling to sooth demanding expectations,

lifted bars for higher remunerations, in constant marathon

of best comparison,

for you care, you dare.



I take your hand with eyes of approval,

life’s ****** and gigolette,

ready to play each day’s illusive roulette.
RJ Days Apr 2014
Deep tensions draw the shoulds and hold so much
While hells are made from can’ts and still-might-be’s
With magic care great weeds and blooms are ******
Upon real earth, no final fantasies
What does she owe herself and so the rest?
I strain to view but maybe it’s unclear
Though few embraced those true but hollow jests
well hewn from mind as sharply filled with fear
For needling help the price of scars she paid
She brought them forth, in love she did enlist
Defying self, unworthy world was stayed
Creating joy in order to exist
And now to hold us, tend the garden too
Is what we all need mothers' hands to do.
for Keri
The Year Jan 2012
Torrents of rushing crowds,
Blankets of noiseless sound
Hidden under the lush, lush breeze,
Riding the scent of fallen trees

Swarming round all of panic
Drowning out all of the pain
Hoping for recognition,
Knowing someone knows your name.

Sinking in cracks of the famous
Living in dust of the bold
Shadowing lights of the lime
Learning it’s never your time.

Etching your name in the skyline
Reaching but falling so short
Walking when you should be crawling
The ball never lands in your court.

Trying to follow the river
Straining to the see the bright star
Always living up, up in the coulds
But hidden under the cold cut shoulds
I shouldn't love you like this. I shouldn't remember the thoughts running through my head during our first kiss. But I do. I remember how nervous I was, but how I couldn't seem to pull away when you hugged me and kissed my neck. How cute it was when you laid your head in my lap and watched tv. Like it was normal.

I won't become addicted to the feel of you. The way you try to kiss me when I'm mad. When your breaths become deeper and I hear the faintest moan when I know you're ready for me. 

I can't leave like this. It's only been 4 months and i wake up with my head in the clouds. And to some that's crazy, young, temporary, unreasonable, and a million other negative adjectives calling me stupid. But to me it's love because love is unexpected. You trade in the "I shouldnts" the "I wonts" the "I cants" for the we wills, the we shoulds and the we cans. 

I don't know if we ever will, if we'll ever be able to, if we'll ever get our chance. But I can't regret anything because you taught me that you find the most perfect things when you stop looking.
Robert C Howard Jul 2013
A looking glass seems such a simple thing -
     a boomerang of sorts
          (here's looking at me, kiddo).

So many me's (or you's) to view -
bucked out in natal garb
or gussied up for the corporate ball.
Better fix my Medusa hair,  
Should I opt for the purple shirt?
Just who will I seem to be to you today?

Take a breath - a really deep one
meet those soul panes
gazing back from the other side
emissaries from an inverted universe -
romancing the past - stalked by
tomorrow's "shoulds" and "maybes".

Who will I chance to serve or sway or fool
     between now and the evening star?
          Will one of them be you or me?

A looking glass seems such a simple thing.
     So many me's (or you's) to view,
          Just who should I seem to be to me today?
Breanna Stockham Dec 2017
Some like to live by following lists
To decide what's good enough,
Trusting the rules, the "shoulds" and ideals,
Not heart, intuition or gut.

Rulebooks and list have a time and place,
A purpose, a reason, a use,
But if unhappy we aren't let down
We just list another excuse.

"He's so nice, I must be wrong,
This job should be my dream."
Following lists can lead to smiles  
But they won't make you beam.

To find your own fulfillment,
Don't follow a recipe,
Or assume it is one size fits all,
Don't take your happiness lightly.

So yes, you can follow a guide
Of where you think you should go,
You can settle for things that make you content
Or wait for what makes you glow.
Keith Ren Sep 2010
Don't forget this time.
As hard as it is,
It'll pass.
Don't forget this time.
It's purpose
Was meant to last.

Don't forget these days.
They're hard beyond "shoulds",
I know.
Don't forget these days.
They're set
To see you grow.

Let the melody stick.
Let the melody play.
They'll soon be a pile of yesterdays.

Let the melody stick.
Let the melody play.
It'll all help you find a gratitude, for
Tomorrow's...

"Today"
a tough going brought this song out of me tonight

Thank you, God
This doesn't work too well,
no it's not very nice.
I should have stayed away,
taken my own advice.
Things could be better
if you'd move a little closer,
move a little closer
and warm things up.

Well now, I like my life,
it seems to serve me well.
if you're going to be my lover,
well you've got to be my pal.
just forget the shouldn'ts
and forget about the shoulds.
It's just a crime
when things don't work out
the way they could.

Rolling, rolling, rolling.
A little something
is better than nothing at all.
the only positive thing
is that all is said and done now,
yea it's all been said and done.

Things could be a little better though,
if you'd move a little closer now,
come on a little closer
and warm things up.

It feels like my life ...it has served me well,
I'd say I'm pretty happy,
though some times it's hard to sell.

Don't you come down on me,
'cause I didn't fly,
it's not a crime if you don't fly too high.

I'm going to move on back
to my single bed.
It's better to rule a lot of a little
than to fight with a king-size contention,
but it could be better, yes it could.. you betcha.

Come on and warm up this old heart of mine,
maybe move a little closer and everything will be fine.
come on little darlin',
move a little closer and warm things up,
come on a little closer and warm things up.


© 2000

All Right Reserved
assong
Tara Marie Jun 2014
Silence plays a melody
of toils and years of doom
listening, and beckoning
filling an empty room

A weather new to any age,
an abundance of empty thought
The Woulds and Shoulds are raining
from clouds of memories sought

Plaguing some of purpose
and filling some with fear
making sudden noises
for the loudest minds to hear

Parading round in fervor
and examining the lost
too loud to even recognize
but colder than eyes of frost

He is the oldest raconteur
but somehow a cowardice
of showing no reaction
to the world **aflame in bliss
Chris Rodgers Dec 2012
Sometimes it's better to sit and wait;
there's too much weight on the strings
in that mind of mine.
I've seen too much. (too fast)
I haven't sat long enough
to make any of it last.
(You've ran past.)

I've spent a night in the woods;
laying on a bench, looking at
meteors,
    thinking of the coulds and shoulds.
Dev A Jan 2012
"Opinions,
Criticism,
Words of Wisdom"
That's all I ever hear from you.

"Wells, hmms,
I thinks, well maybe you shoulds"
Constantly running through my ears.
That's all I ever hear from you.

"It's okay, this one isn't good.
Delete this one!  Well delete them all, actually."
Can't you keep your thoughts to yourself?
That's all I ever hear from you.

For once,
I'd like to hear a congratulations!
Is that too much to ask for?
That's all I ever want to hear from you.

Haven't you ever head the word "praise"?
It means telling me, for once,
I've done well.
That's all I ever want to hear from you.

Is any of this
Too much to ask for?
'Cause I'm tired,
Tired of all this criticism.
so many shoulds
and so many coulds
not many ares
Senryu

— The End —