Another day
People come and go
Each leaving
Their mark
Observations touch
Keeping someone
Coming back
Every day
Hello today
Goodbye yesterday
Writing on and on
To be seen some way
Urging;believing
Observers enjoy
Increasingly engaged
In reading
Aching
To be heard
Readers begin
Writing excitedly
Hello/Goodbye effect:) hehehe
Cascading letters
Form in to words
Each sentence fill
In paragraphs
I with a smile
Write voraciously
Relief overwhelms
As each letter is written
Thoughts roll
With each word
Faith guides
Each sentence
Laughter and joy
With every paragraph
Writing can releasing tensions! Sometimes, dwelling on writing negatively, can continue negative thoughts and only enhance tensions. When you begin to write positive expressions, it's like a snowball effect!
You can't stop! Page after page writing happily. Share these joys! Share the moments! Your writings could help and/or guide others to stay positive :)
Labels: humor and joy, poems, positive poetry
I woke up late! late! late!
Gotta go !
RUN
Bumped in to the wall,
Smacked forehead on sink
Brushin' my teeth
I could have been on time.
Head throbbing.
Driving and muttering.
Car puffs and sputters
BANG
There went my tires
And still oh so tired
Stops
What's wrong with me?
Morning rush? PFFFT
I'm Takin' the day off!
This poem is about someone who is never late for work. They're like OCD with 'time'.. However, in a time like that, which is rare, the person has an option. Go to work distracted and distracting others over your morning, being frustrated and even angry, risking a blow up at work, etc. Now, I know plenty of people who could have a morning like this and you'd never know it! They are quiet individuals and either know how to compose themselves well, or really have got the whole-"leave personal at the door" rule down.
NAH! Everyone brings a little personal to work. It's inevitable and bound to happen eventually.
So, if you had a morning like this, would you go to work?
Labels: dialogue poetry, Morning Rush, morningrush, poems
HUMAN RIGHTS: BLOGGERS UNITE !
THE DAY THE WORLD WILL CRY
When all tears have been shed
When the last shout rings out
The final echo is heard
A shot blast; at last light of day
Words become no more
Feeling and emotion controlled
All like-minded
With a number, not a name
The very thought of
Dream, hope, love, God
Erased and forgotten
Non-existant; lack of choice
Not one smile left
No step out of line
A child's laughter tinkles
Another Bang in the night
The line grows longer
All aching for living
Like wild horses
Grazing and playing
That life gone
Free will and thought
Free speech and movement
Disappeared in a blink
Longing for what could be
No help came in uniform
No whirs of engines in the sky
No plea to "Leave no man behind"
Stripped of self dignity; angered
Each began to softly
Pass along a message
To stand together
One revolt
One impact by all
Valiant Shouts!
Victory in hearts
Shots rang out
Like bombs dropping
Automatic weapons used
Grenades splatter skin
ALL SILENCED
Not a soul left
As the over takers cheered
Covered in skin and blood
They looked at the bodies
The earth around them
The Day the World Cried
Whom had remained
A mighty strike came upon them
They too, were too late
Tears turned them pale
Their bodies became frail
One by one
Taken
By the Overseer
_______________________________________________________
Imagine families separated. Millions standing in constant moving lines. Stepping over bodies, bones, and blood. Their own flesh, thin, weathered, scarred , broken and bruised. Famished , so hungry they’d devour their own excrement. Like robots, they do what they are told. Until one day, they finally understand they can fight for life. They are killed. Then, the over takers are killed by the overseer.
This is not an exaggerated story. There are lands being take over. Genocide! In my poem, I’ve left it up to the reader’s interpretation in the ending. Why? The overseer could be God ridding the land of all mankind. OR, could be a dictator seeing the job he wanted, finished. Then, he kills those that did the killing, so he can start anew. Again, Left to imagination.
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