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martin May 2013
Flickering fires, dim candlelight
Barely pierce the chill Winter night
In a world of toil with no hope of change
Life is a trial down Strugglers Lane

Endless worry is their lot
The only rest is when they drop
Nothing but hardship mingled with pain
That's what's on offer down Strugglers Lane

No escape, nowhere to go
Best do a deal with the devil you know
Nothing comes easy, it's always the same
That's how it is down Strugglers Lane

If you find yourself anywhere near
Heed my advice, stay well clear
Turn right around, go back again
Don't take the sign to Strugglers Lane
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2015
~~~

someday soon gonna reread
the four figures of my
poems over lifetime inked,
divvy  them up by what each is about,
assemblage of
the themes of me

review the who what when and weird
of this guy through his own eyes
multiplying confessions
of graces and disgraces

particular to recover,
desirous of collecting those poems that:

valorize society’s strugglers
and stragglers...humans doing the work of living
^

don't know how many will be uncovered,
but here's hoping there are plenty,
needy of recovery and uncovering the poet
and worthy of pointing too,
valuation markers of a
decent human

strugglers, stragglers,
those from all over this world
and lives that can only visualize
no-horizon-in-sight oceans
sailors, from ports unvisited,
some even, still undiscovered,

working ****** and women,
not those,
don't owners
of fancy dress whites,
topped of by jaunty angelic-angled caps

the ones I sought and seek,
grime and coal dust etched into
every ****** crevice, ink under fingernails,
in obscurity, toil in windowless engine rooms,
in the nooks in libraries hiding,
satisfied with
a moment of glory,
and a lasting
hand upon
their wracked minds

these are my mates,
sharing fates
of woeful countenances
of bruised bodies,
recipients of hardest blows repetitious,
comrades in open arms

the unflavored, unfavored of
sons and daughters,
unblessed with sobs and smacks,
who rare lift the head in hope

the sufferers of ignominy
of the
prison of their existence,
for those I write,
have, will, and willing

to do it till I see a
chin rising, white of eyes gleaming,
a hand delisted,
arms defused of black weights

come to me,
words, encouragement, perspective,
that this too shall pass

believing ain't easy,
take it from one who couldn't see
happy endings, but had no choice but
to choose to,
now prepped, ready
for my arms to do some serious uplifting,
shoulders heavy-loaded and wide of loads,
eager for honest work,
aiding and abetting
the stragglers and and stragglers...
humans doing the work of living,
deserving for valuation,
awaiting their salutation,
and relief, even if,
tiny and small,
a slim volume of poems,
that but one
poet
provided
~~~
^a quote from a review of the play  "John," at Vulture.com

August 23, 2015
xyloolyx Sep 2014
only wanted to enjoy the same unusual things
with like-minded people

the concierge of dystopia fnording *******
messing around with the octopus
cyberpunk nightmare with blue sky
expect a deluge and then wonder what happened to it

evaporated anxiety due for a downpour
catacombs rented by the hour
she typically cares about those
who don't care about her
abandoning me without consequence
don't ever come back
ungrateful swine of nowhere!

loyalty exists only in a parallel universe
where they locked themselves up
and destroyed the key
they feed the rich and ignore the poor

in the end the strugglers will prevail
and the ones who had it easy will suffer
game shows that punish the ignorant

rage that never ends
scoring infinite points in basketball
and still losing the game

only wanted to enjoy the same unusual things
with like-minded people
This is for the rainy days.
The heavy days,
Blanketed under a dark silver sky.

This is an image of
Timeless days.
Where both dawn and dusk
Fail to exist,
Because the gray never went away.

This is the light drizzle
Painting your glasses
With tiny cloudy droplets
That blur-out your vision

And makes the next step a mystery,,
As you pray
                  For a chance of sunshine.

This is for the helpless days.
Lonely days.
Where with every battle
Pits you against the world.
     And should you lose,
     Or should you win,
     Your victory is heard
            by only two ears.

These are the words for the
Mouse-like people.
The great number of quiet strugglers
Who say yes to the fat cat
                                  By Instinct!
So they won't be the meat
Of someone else's meal.
          \    \     \
But this is not to cast you down.
Not a giant- making pinching gestures
With people sized fingers.

This is a challenge!
A day to reach up into
Your oppressive heavens.
Cast aside the disciplinary
Blockade and- Breathe.

Breathe in the tastes
Of a life worth living.
Of the courage to be on your own feet.

And this is an urgency.
This is an urging that
All the doormat people
Sweep out from the heavy feet,
The ones you welcome for trampling.
Because|
               -You know exactly what you're
                 *Missing
Mohamed Nasir Jul 2018
The teacher's eyes gathered colours about
The cultured garden scene she knew so well;
She likes the section flowers nicely sprout
Her hidden world where varying colours jell.
Achievers pride she takes with all her heart;
Like outstanding pupils she proudly groomed.
But scrappy lazy ones, never seems to start,
She wished them luck and left alone to bloom.
The sun regardless shines on all juniors.
The bright ones, the brats she pitied a lot.
Through years and wise by age she remembers,
Oft visiting her those she had forgot,
Those she loved and cared have whittled away.
But strugglers now trees they weathered to stay.
the newbie failure complex(ity)

the poems come torrentially,
hurricane, waterfall & tornado are working adjectives
worthy of the task, yet unequal to the unlimited army
of the written dead of unread poems and poets
that occupy the nether of blog, podcast, and poetry sites,
orphan stars in the un-salvaged junkyard galaxy of verbiage

a faceless wight, once alive, now permanently dead,
we shuffle march, chanting each our own newbie poem,
onward soldiers to ignominy and glory so fleeting,
we are forgot before we are remembered

this is life in poetry,
or better yet,
the worst of it, (sigh)
this is the poetry of lives


all for nought,
nought for all,
at least we pass our prison time
in the company of fellow strugglers
poem #1
Michael S Davis Jun 2014
Challenges punctuate our lives with question marks.

We ask ourselves, “How long?” So we dream.
We wonder about each other. So we believe.
We concern ourselves with each other’s welfare. So we pray.

We doubt our wisdom. So we trust our hearts.
We second guess ourselves. So we act in faith.
We question our tomorrow. So we cherish the present.

We fear the question marks that have punctuated our lives.
So we build walls;
Walls to hide from our fear, walls to hide from our frustration,
And walls to hide from our feelings.
Let us never build walls that would cut us off from the world,
Or from each other.

Within the circle of our fellow strugglers,
Our thoughts are punctuated with fewer question marks,
And from time to time - a simple period.
Here with each other, it's not as difficult to wait for the answer.
And the walls don't seem as challenging to climb.

Whatever our question,
We can dare each other to dream.
And in this time of testing, we can hope for the answer,
An answer that will be different for every one of us.
An answer that punctuates each of our lives
With an exclamation point!

©2014 Michael S. Davis
I took the original A Punctuated Life and rewrote it after a friend, Susan, found that the first two verses resonated with her and shared those verses with our Vocational Rehabilitation group. This is for all those who struggle with disabilities and are seeking a way to be productive in the work force.
Antony Glaser Nov 2015
Weather tight
mist roaming over
ineptitudes follows
waterfalls and serpentines.
All would be good with  crampons, boots and fleece,
if prior instructions were  followed
but with a misfit  Meetup group
half are experienced
the rest are the stuff of strugglers
break or make every one of them
on the  Brecon Beacons
Sia Jane Nov 2013
Souls wandering, Midnight Mass
Rescued hearts, craving less distress
Willing participants, for Gods graces
Sinner or saint, all worth measured
Through the extent to which they
Carry this life
Dreamers & wishers, take a backseat
The strugglers making confessions
Their first feeble steps, starts at one
Plea forgiveness from those
They hurt or betrayed, when they took
This path, to not be with another
Or at one with the life around them
Never in life, will we know another
Truly know all of them, exposed
Even secrets kept safe, between lovers
Parted kisses & naked skin
Flesh on flesh keep them together
How could she know it would
Ever come to this
Walking out the door for his next score
He swore he was done
Baby tears crying into his mummies
Eyes, promises made, broken only
Hours later, leaving mother & child
Losing his family, she remained his last
Hope, those wandering souls
Lost in Midnight Mass
A fall from grace, cupids arrow
Wrapped with a bow
Then later the bundle from heaven
That kept daddy in those meetings
Counting the steps, bronze chip
Sobriety for a year, lost the day the
Door banged behind him
Denial his confidant, only friend
Left behind a mummy cried
Holding their only son
Crack *******, **** or smack
Choose your sin, lose a life
She knew
He knew
This baby was all that was left
With no sign
Or clue.

© Sia Jane
Don Bouchard Nov 2012
I imagine a fighting arena
Huge and closed.

In one cornered space
Tower Hegemonic Forces
Champions of dominant culture.

In other corners,
Trending,
Waxing,
Waning,
Anxious for their turn
To test their powers
Crouch the Up and Comers,
Ever-hungry crowds of Up and Comers.

Traction is slippery
On this tenuous battlefield;
Spittle and catarrh;
Blood, sweat, tears;
**** and *****:
Fluid proof of bodies
Denied a single humanity,
Mingle to confound
Desperate din of strugglers,
Seeking clear divisions to conquer.

On-lookers, deafened in cacophony,
Cannot see the uselessness.
Careful observers
Can but surmise what the prize
Desired might be,
But always there is the struggle.
Barbara-Paraprem Jul 2014
Dreamers, sleepwalkers,
in a land of shadows and chimeras,
Buddhas, who seek the Buddha,
yearners, strugglers, dying persons.
Still with the last breath
hovered around from mists,
through the woods the morning star shines,
the red blood flows out of the heart,
that there beats and will beating eternally.
Dreamers, sleepwalkers,
sparks of light from nowhere,
like lightnings flashing through the universe,
again go out in the nowhere,
which lays its blackness comforting and motherly
yet at the last sigh around us.
Life, which, forgetting itself,
sees itself in the empty mirror
and doesn’t know, that the mirror
is in every fiber of its being
- not here or there
and beyond the great gate of the here,
through which it becomes itself
on the middle of the threshold a gateless gate.
Dreamers, sleepwalkers,
- A thunderclap!
A fall from heaven to earth!
A cry from earth to heaven!
An inconceivable moment of glory!
And only peace – unpronounceable holy…


© Barbara-Paraprem, 2014
Don Bouchard Aug 2017
Classes start today; summer's met its end,
The books lie waiting once again upon the shelf
To share the lie that education is the path for everyone
To happiness and wealth.

Those who will and those who won't succeed
File in and settle down, day one,
Segregated, aggregated in their rows of need,
Stamped by labels and by scores.

The gauntlet lies before them:
Papers, deadlines, speeches, tests
To find the laurel winners.
And to **** the needy rest.

"Success is counted sweetest by those who ne'er succeed,"
Old Emily once said, and she'd be right to say it once again
About the battlefields in every school I've been.

This fall I'm taking time to hear
My students' goals and dreams,
Their challenges and hopes,
To say "I see you with my eyes."
I hope to see their hopes arise.

The race is to the steady, Aesop said,
The plodders beat the plotters in their way,
If we who have the gate keys in our hands
Encourage strugglers to stay.
Thinking about the great aggregation taking place in every school, the separating of the winners and the losers, about educational justice.
Rubab Bashir Jul 2016
I found Him in most unusual places on earth
where I least expect Him to be.
I found Him
in the heart of *******
in the dikr of a reeking alcoholic
in the fury of burglar
in a wish of a gambler regardless of the content
I found Him everywhere and yet no where
in repentence and pride;
in sanctified matrimoney and an illegal intimacy;
in heart of believers and strugglers;
in melt of an ice, molding in the shape of its base boasting to be submissive in its act and in fire offering just the opposite: submission of everuthing rewarding them by turning in to ashes;
I found him in every little thing and mystics;
in canvases and waterfalls;
in art and ruins;
in earth and sky;
in filth and dirt;
in mansions and huts
I found Him by seeking Him not by searching HiM
Ya Allah let your noor lighten our hearts and soul (Aameen)
Àŧùl Dec 2012
Finally known Myself;
I am a soldier of time,
Only the conquest of life,
Aboard the ship to Hell.

Finally known the World;
They all aren't players,
Only the cargo here,
Aboard the ship to Hell..

Finally known You;
You weren't the Angel,
Only a mirage of one,
Aboard the ship to Hell...

For I'm one among the few;
Who struggle this way,
Only the best ones survive,
Aboard the ship to Hell....

Because the World is preferential;
To winners & not strugglers,
Only the winners'd thrive,
Aboard the ship to Hell.....

And You were just like them all;
To me gave a sweet deception,
Only to leave me alone here,
Aboard the ship to Hell......

But in the end all of the World joins me;
To the trip of time in the ship to hell,
Only after serving their sentence,
Aboard the ship to Hell.......
It is my humble request to all staunch theists not to read this poem seriously, I don't intend to debate over any spiritual issues as I wouldn't change my stand ever.
Colin E Havard Mar 2014
Live your Life as you wish -->
Don't blame me!
Blame the *****!
She's the One that yeah's and neigh's,
Selects the combos, gamete-style;
Foresees the potentiality
Of a Universe before the making.

Her Will --> I'll execute!
Protect to incubate the great,
While looking after the lost -->
Those unlucky to be born normal;
Those strugglers battling idiocy
At all levels of authority.

I'll float freely betwixt strata -
Popping in and out of existence
As necessary; as needs dictate;
As She dictates (- the subtle cow).
I'll plod along, head in the sand,
Trying to figure out the sound;
Stringing along and strung out,
Helping myself and lending a hand.

And when I meet Her...if I do...
I'll tell Her you send Your Regards.
5/3/2014
A Western Tiger in an Ancient Cradle
Bob B Feb 2017
When hardened hearts ignore the plaintive tears
Of those who are invisible yet present,
They disregard the strugglers' hopes and fears
And make a situation more unpleasant.
Many suffer hazardous conditions
And work that earns a pittance but still brings
A lifestyle that won't **** their true ambitions.
How dare we think that they all live like kings!
Imagine living daily with the terror
Or harsh presentiment--with stress and pain--
Of knowing that despite abuse or error,
Your hands are tied, for you cannot complain.
Your life becomes a sad catch-22.
To keep on going is all that you can do.

Imagine fleeing poverty and war
And frightful acts of cruel persecution.
Your life at least is better than before,
But you await a permanent solution.
Your kids are now American at heart,
But jobs and college cause much consternation.
You work two jobs; you try to do your part;
Yet there's the constant threat of deportation.
When people turn their heads and look away,
A blaze of cruel injustice wildly rages.
The ones affected most can have no say
In how to fix what's NOT worked well for ages.
Solutions lacking heart are cold and numbing
And demonstrate how ugly we're becoming.

- by Bob B (2-23-17)
In the end
our destiny's the same
to fade away and dissipate
like thoughtless flowing grains.
A relic gestalt masterwork
For strugglers working in vain.
In the end
we embrace the storm
and fill our lungs with rain.
Arcassin B May 2017
By Arcassin Burnham

This is for the teens that lay low and do nothing,
To the strugglers that don't really have money,
To the rich kids that don't even have a feeling,
or a care in the world for the porch monkeys,
spending money on stupid **** for a few summers,
That has friends on the track team and a front runner,
Nobody had your back all **** summer,
Just so i made it clear,

Kids are bullied everyday for other kids amusement,
cheap talk will get you killed in the streets your in,
deep feelings lay down underneath the cement,
if thats what you like , fornicate off your sin,
just looking for a purpose in the nearest sunshine,
no light shines in a coffin when you die,
suicide on your mind , telling people you'll be fine,
just so i made it clear,

isolated from the friends that you call your besties,
feeling like a third-wheel sitting in the backseat,
And before you know the day is put on repeat,
stuck on the same channel better change the t.v.
trying to find whats fake and whats real,
these people out here don't know how you feel,
you were the fool that slipped on that banana peel,
just so i made it clear,

... you were always there.

you were destined to do great things..

you were always there.
©abpoetry2017
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2017/05/make-it-clear.html
Yenson Feb 2022
Fame at last
celebrity status
far from the ***** hoi polloi
and
the dime a dozen hacks
make it up as they limp along
canon fodders digestive
to soothe the gall
log stuck firmly in their eyes
but they strain
to remove the invisible speck
in our eyes
in spot light we know
the unwashed can never have fame
because there are so lame
ah poor poor
double whammy low down
on the downed low
mediocrity is a commons' problem
Ahmed Fares Jan 2019
We shared so many tears looking for Freedom, Peace and Justice
We have been fighting for a month and 7 days, in the pursuit of freedom
We lost our brothers and sisters you know how much we need ‘em
The parents are left behind,
Who really gonna look after ‘em
Shout out to freedom fighters
I wish you were the guilders
Shout out to all them hustlers and strugglers
You are the lighters
We can take it till the end
People let's join our hand just together as one
I said together as one
Is for the Freedom, Peace and Justice
Pinches of ****, to birth a new cellular seed,
Last of the dying breed, got yall intrigued, let the knowledge breath,
Life into this *****, i told yall in success, most dont pay attention to the mess,
They involved in, so they miss the best,
Times to come, thy will be done, student of the game,
Put all foes in the same, who aint got they emotions tamed,
I used wanna **** Pinky, and get the brain, but now dames,
Just wanna dash, at the scent of your fame, use your name,
They nothing but ***** guzzlers, ghetto ***** strugglers,
And yall ******, better stop fallin' for the triggers,
Of he say she say, because always lies runnin' the rail ways,
I feel no guilt, cuz the world was built, off of pain,
Say its a new world, but its the same ****, we live by, tryna void the swirl, yo



Pops told me, to watch who you give ya jewels too,
Because hate will bleed through, broke the circle,
Formed half a square, wisdom learned if ya dare, like the dark eyes, of a cat that stares,
Like my pineal gland that shares,
Links with the universe,
One song one sound, look all around, its nothing but energy found,
Around, the peoples we see everyday, and dont delay,
Nature talks, without words to say, tapped into myself,
Now i see infinite wealth, no baggy clothes, just cigars,
And gold stashed, in my portfolio, know, thats the real dough,
One thought remained poor, and the other, wanted riches to soar,
Learn the tax gains and the debt game,
Play monopoly, if ya wanna peep game,
Kanak Kashyup Jun 2018
Her soul born with the armour of never withdrawing trials amidst of all those smirking strugglers.
Her soul fallen for the nightmares instead of dreams to carve it for the destination without any illusion to care.
Her soul adored the dearth in the era of scarcity without any drop of calming water with thirst of ocean.
Her soul craved for the presence by burning all the essence to eliminate the fear of losing the beloved ones.
Her soul broke herself infinite times to protect her from any interim sensation of falsehood trying to fake.
Her soul feared to lost in the dense mist of failures cause it remain without any beholder to feel it again.

©wheneyesnarrate
Living the codes of the streets its a hard burn,
How many brothers take the wrong turn,
Down the highway of death, instead of looking right and left,
Only options is,
Is to ******* robbery to the petty theif,
Tryna up their reps, only to get closer steps,
To the pen, or with the fams crying, shots of another dying,
From the heat,
*******, led to another destination, the situation,
Kind of sticky, tryna avoid the sneaks like Ricky,
Just rowdy, young boys in the hood, up to no good,
But its hard to beat, when ya tryna leave the code of the streets,





And whos there to guide us,
And lord provided us,
With a taste of the garden,
Not speakin' Madison Square,
Why am I here or there,
Street hustlers, ghetto hos pushin' *** for the **** musclers,
We just strugglers, tryna make it out the slums, and how come,
We cant get ahead,
Seems like it's always tussle for bread,
I get watch by the feds,
And they ask me where i head,
Im just tryna live the next day, got double d hidden, in display,
Blended with the cops, its an everyday matrix, playin' tricks,
Im motionless, peep how many snitches will ****,
On ya graved, at that same time, they say theyre saved,
While gettin' paid, see em grow, from a pinto to an Escalade,
Double mansion with a few maids,
It's like playing charades,
Cant catch cold feet,
From the rhythm of heat,when ya sinnin' the code of the streets
Collapse a North Pole stand firm with the seventies gold
Platinum lyrics touch hearts of critics embezzle gimmicks
Can you feel it fat boy ahoy
Yo I'm reminscing on joy
Back in the days street plays
Ghetto hustlers to strugglers
A white mans cream dreams
Often played by media schemes
I focused on my self bright
Lights in the bathroom
Zoomed on my eyes heirloom
Invested in mental estate
To create a dominate state
Of mind summer time
Was always on time slime
Tryna bring winter inner
Self still working on my health
Lyrics only for the fearless
I suggest ya ya use stress
As a way to strengthen less
Of ya broken morals values
Don't stand on red or blue
Stand by those who stay true
Real friends break dividends
And in the end it's a pretend
*** folks only out for ya endz


Saw the heart of a blue jazz player soul genesis slayer
Way up in the majors caters ya every move word to Deja
Vu lyrics dipped in only wisdom of the truth to the booth
Though I may chip a tooth love of a women with a style of Ruth
Afro air got my soul in a stare as the sun glares us a pair
Let the light radiate sunrays
To bake an earthquake
Crack negativity baby
It's all gravy once I train
Ya thought freight the froth
Sitting on top of plots
Silence goes to the body rotts
A dead mind can't grind
Broke away from all swines now I see J Dilla divine mind
Yo I wish it was a joke but this ain't premise to a punchline
Massacre create a chaos design society quietly confined
To the madness in line
Folks so Chic Fila and they say okay but I see the days
Are numbered ready for the slumber don't disturb the Hummer
Of music abuse it never too clever Connected rhymes endeavor
Over the beats I speak great as a speech of wisdom Greeks
Meeks shall inherit the cherries of gold left the veil on hold
JoJo Nguyen Nov 3
We can't joke about Trolls anymore Homeless monsters Living under
Our bridges, beneath our privileges

We can be kind to Orc folks nevermore  
Hordes invading Colors over
Our borders to steal misfit toys

I guess it was never funny:
your pain, our Ghost Strugglers without voice and dwindling choice

Is is OK to laugh with racist friends at the Comedy Store?
Is it fine to put Goblin babies in a corner for easier M√rder?

Take it easy

We've been on this Slippery Sl°pe before with my Bon Vivant and wet Jovi

12 hours ago
Rana roy May 2020
Missing amenities, two days in dark
The dog too in grief, forgets to bark.
Zia is in forever darkness, up in north (Kashmir)
Margarine and butter babies, don't cry and howl.

Millions have died, lot more are homeless
Do you have a clue,?
Driven by dad or fiancee in branded wheeler
Your life is colour-purple-glue.

How many years will you act like a leech ?
Come once and stand with strugglers.
Where morning starts without breakfast
Two course meals are glitched.  

Stop your crocodile tears and think for a while
Two more days of darkness, without a mobile
Still you will be alive but so many will be gone
Can't bring them back, cry alone.....
Yenson Dec 2023
Birthed by Strugglers into struggles
the slaves crys inherent tears
festoon in dark complexes as bangles
arrives the narcs with fears

Christened narcissisists in muddles
divide destroy is all they rear
sharing their pains are their battles
inner contentment never near

The lame minds celebrating troubles
crippled toxic and so so weak
manipulated manipulators in ruffles
our sad doyens of doublespeak

Haha the inglorious blowing bubbles
craving to share miseries bleak
own yer chains and spin in yer hovels
yer complexes leaves you pique

There they rage no substance no mettle
the unhinged at their lowly peak
nonentities crowing in dense cowardly fettle
infamous laments of pipsqueak
"Narcissists try to destroy your life with lies because theirs can be destroyed with the truth"
"Hypocrissits: A narcissist whose head is so far up their **** they can't hear the hypocrisy coming out of their mouth"
Dr Peter Lim Jul 2020
The seas, the mountains, the hills the fields,
the trees, the flowers----they are their own inspiration-
they are unlike us humans--the strugglers
who end up in endless perspiration

— The End —