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Love Work Poems | Love Poems About Work

These Love Work poems are examples of Love poems about Work. These are the best examples of Love Work poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Keep It Turnin' to the Right

Oklahoma cowboy, tough coal miner’s son
Born in Henryetta, south of Tulsa some
Raised by daddy’s momma, taught him wrong from right
Daddy taught him ropin’, taught him how to fight
Herding made no money, its stock was really down
Mamaw feeling poorly, dad mining at Old Town
December seventeenth, in the year of twenty-nine
Dad was shoring timber, 9th west entry of the mine
The gas ignited close to him, he never smelt its breath
It belched out fire and thunder, and everlasting death
Sixty-one they counted, who wouldn’t see the sun
Twenty-five weren't recognized, they buried them as one
On that fatal Tuesday, the boy became a man
Had to make a living, had to have a plan
Heard about the oil patch, got a chance to try it
Drill the earth for all she’s worth; keep it turnin' to the right

Some they called him weevil, some they called him worm
Some they wouldn't speak to him, figgered he was just short term
They told him "Open up that vee door; go to get the key
It's in the possum belly, in doghouse number three"

Took his turns at floor hand, at first a little green
Became the fastest broke out hand the driller ever seen
Morning tour, evening tour, working day and night
Drilled the earth for all she's worth, kept it turnin' to the right

The driller called him partner; the pusher called him son
The other roughnecks shook his hand, and took him in as one
Got up on the monkeyboard; learned to spin the chain
Pumped that mud and shed his blood, and worked right through the pain

On a bitter frosty evening tour, in a cold December snow
He saw derricks lit like Christmas trees in distance far below
He saw the fairyland of the refinery, shining through the night
He saw Mother Earth and the universe, all turning to the right

The oil patch was a hard life, moving all the time
But he saved a lot of money, didn't waste a dime
Morning tour, evening tour, working day and night
Drilled the earth for all she's worth, kept it turnin' to the right

Sent his kids to college, working through the years
One became a teacher, the others engineers
He hung up his hardhat; he shed his steel-toed shoes
Then one day he passed away; he'd finally paid his dues

Made it to the Pearly Gates; they handed him his wings
Handed 'em right back to them; said "I don't need these things.
I want to do some drilling. That's my heavenly plan."
They said "Go talk to the Devil then, cause he's the company man."

Old Scratch needed hellfire; he always come up short
Too many politicians and others of that sort
When he heard they had a driller, he jumped up with delight
He danced a jig, "You've got your rig. Keep it turnin' to the right."

Now he drills for hellfire; in the derrick he's got Jake
Buck and Sam on the platform; Sonny's on the brake
They all grin like demons; they're all where they belong
Doing what they love to do, they sing their roughneck song

"We all eat caliche and drink the devil's brew
Play dominos with Satan and skunk him at forty-two
Work all day on Sunday and honky-tonk all night
We're oilfield trash and we'll take cash to keep it turnin' to the right

We all love West Texas; it's like the Promised Land
Horny toads and rocky roads, and even dunes of sand
Dust storms every morning, northers every night
We get tans and freeze our cans to keep it turnin' to the right"

The lingo used around the rig you won't hear much in church
It'll curl your hair and make you stare and leave you in the lurch
So close your eyes and realize it's gonna get much worse
Drink your beers and plug your ears; here comes the final verse

"We p*ss longneck Lone Stars; we f*rt Frito pie
Give us ****, and we will spit some Red Man in your eye
Don't **** with us, or we will cuss and bring you to the fight
We're low class, but we kick *** to keep it turning to the right"

Coal mining, oil drilling and Hell - Doesn't get much darker and deeper...

Copyright © Roy Jerden

Details | Epic | |

My father is a Soldier

My father is a hero.
He stands so tall and proud.
His hands are firm, But gentle.
He stands out in a crowd.
People stop to Thank him.
For Freedom he does fight.
My father is a Soldier.
But he's my Dad at night!

Copyright © christie mills

Details | Rhyme | |

Edgar Allan Poe

I was inspired once a long time ago
By something that I read
I never knew such amazing things
Could fill the inside of my head

I always thought that poetry
Was about love or romance,
I never knew it could be dark
Suddenly I was entranced.

A whole new world had opened up
And I could write about it all;
Anything that crossed my mind,
Anything I could recall.

And it was all because of a poem
I read one day at school;
The poem was entitled “The Raven”
And it was just so incredibly cruel,

I fell in love with the poem
And craved others that were the same;
But there was only one author that captured me 
Edgar Allan Poe was his name.

Every poem or story  that he wrote
Was like a beacon showing the way;
I never knew I could write about death
Without worrying what others would say

And so I took leaf out of his book,
And wrote about what I feel;
I was always afraid to express myself
But now it holds only appeal

Copyright © Tirzah Conway

Details | Rhyme | |



I love you, my love
I don't know why?
You are working hard,
I love you from nine to five
Soon will clock out
Going to our separate ways
To a life, I was forced at hand 

Thanks for the attention,
My husband does not give.
Simple kisses with full affection
A love affair 
No more teasing, no more flirting
Sneaking and releasing our lust and tension
Accidently caring.
We see everyone just staring.
Two lives now were torn

I love the things we talk about
Until that one day,
Which is now, 
I have to say goodbye
Writing you a last love letter
Explaining the reason why?
No one can make this better
All I can do about this is cry

You said your wife was in doubt
My husband after soon found out
At that moment, I felt the need to die
In my face, he did more than shout.
Now I sit ---
Far away where I can't say hi
It's your baby, with no doubt.
The one thing my husband wants to deny
This love affair I can never talk about
Dead and gone


Copyright © SKAT A

Details | Rhyme | |

Tender Years

"Tender Years" upon first meeting my heart felt a certain chemistry though I was far from seeking love I vowed intentionally needed to work and raise my sons as best as I could being my boss gave me a chance to show my work was good. a team of excellence we were and business was successful my life was starting to take shape though times were very stressful one night you offered me a lovely dinner to escape surely I accepted not considering it a date. years have quickly passed so tenderly we fell in love you were my strong support, my Angel sent from Heaven above as much as I tried to resist you said we were meant to be our wedding day in Paradise and the rest is history. our love balances all the bad and turns things all to right when I am cold you cradle me and sing me songs at night years ago I cut and combed your wavy wild black hair but now you are my sexy Cupid, bald beyond compare. as every moment of our golden years are cherished our family has grown so close in love and flourished and still we work together fulfilling lifelong dreams I am the creative one and you pioneer financial themes. these tender years have taught us both about why we love so God is the center of our lives helping our faith grow we thank each other everyday for love so faithfully and the wonderful way you learned to share my poetry. *For Gail Angel Doyle's Tender Years. *Written by: Linda-Marie Sweetheart. *Dec. 7, 2012.

Copyright © Linda-Marie SweetHeart

Details | Rhyme | |


Many years ago, when we were all young,
We really thought life, would be so much fun.
While playing dress-up, trying on mom’s stuff,
Putting on make-up, we found to be tough.

Then came our schooling, and boy things would change,
“Those aren’t our parents”, when they acted strange.
Sometimes they were hip, but old-fashioned too,
That’s something I swore, I would never do.

Wishing you were older, adults had it made,
They would do nothing, yet still would be paid.
That is how little, we all had known,
We surely found out, once we were grown.

Loving the twenties, we’d go out with friends,
When we went shopping, we followed the trends.
Doing what we wanted, and staying out late,
It didn’t matter, what time we all ate.

Then came the thirties, and most of us wed,
Watch what you wish for, my parents had said.
We had to work hard, many bills to pay,
I guess they were right, what more can I say?

Raising your children, was hardest of all,
Needing some advice, your parent’s you’d call.
It seemed so easy, they needed no rest,
So now it’s your turn, you learned from the best.

The forties arrived, that was a shocker,
We’d spend lots of time, just at the doctor.
Back aches and headaches, so tired you’d be,
Trying not to cough, or else you would pee.

The fifties would come, and your grandkids too,
Where were your glasses? You hadn’t a clue.
You searched here and there, and under the bed,
“Hey grandma” they laughed, “They’re right on your head”.

Here come the sixties, now let’s have some fun,
You are retired; your work is all done.
To dinner with friends, you dressed and you wait,
They never show up, you have the wrong date.

Now the seventies, with friends playing games,
If only you could, remember their names.
You try hard to hide, those under-eye bags,
Gravity happens, and everything sags.

Enjoy every day, and have a good laugh,
All the steps you took, led down a new path.
Live life as it comes, each year a new page,
One thing is for sure, everyone will age.

Copyright © Kelly Zakerski

Details | Free verse | |

You Already Know

I'm not great.
I'm not extraordinary,
But I'm okay knowing that
Just as long as you 
Love me
For being
Who I am when I'm 
Discovering who I am
And how I cope.
I don't work with metal;
I don't work with wood.
All I have are my words,
Spoken in 
Hopefully, a poetic way.
I speak and I speak,
But when I write,
In a way,
Nothing gets spoken.
I'm not motivational;
I'm not inspirational,
But as long as I 
Move a wistful soul
From time to time, I'm good.
I'm cold,
But it seems
I'm running out 
Of time 
And people to talk to.
I want to speak
With my words, but
It seems only my
Ranting of how I'm 
Stuck and lost 
Gets my point across.
I can send your mind
In a spin;
Only because 
I am constantly spinning
With overindulgences 
Such as
Being loved 
And even hated.
I spin from giving,
And, in return, 
Being spun some more.
Puzzles compose
Every metaphor.
Life in general;
Only, I tend 
To put pieces 
Where they belong,
Then come to discover
That, later, they grow
And start to mesh.
I don't know
If, looking back, 
I'll only see me 
Waisting my time 
Or looking over
What helped me through it.
I couldn't tell you
That everything I cherish
Will be there
Or even here tomorrow.
The ones who understand 
And know more
Of me than I do myself
Are the ones that
Keep me spinning.
So, here is me speaking.
I feel as if 
I'm looking through 
A narrow telescope
That is covered 
On the other end.
I see 
What I choose to see,
But what's that to 
The world?
They don't have the time
To keep up 
Or slow down;
Going their steady pace
Until they find the time 
To waste it.
I wish,
I hope,
I wander,
But no matter
Where I go, 
I only see 
That I'm finding nothing.
My mind
Is tired, 
But my emotions
Are ready to fight.
Bring it on;
I can and
Continue to take your shots.
Take me-
Hold me in your arms
Until I'm safe
And fall asleep...
Maybe when I wake up
I won't be scared, confused,
Torn and lonely.
Maybe I'll wake up and realize
It was a dream and I'm safe
Because you are there.
I'm not great.
I'm not extraordinary,
But you know who I am 
And love me for it.

Copyright © Josey Portas

Details | Villanelle | |

The Mission Trip To Please

On mission trip overseas
At least one week will do
Hold babies gently squeeze

Whether in cold where freeze
In rain forest where view 
On mission trip overseas

My hearts desire will please
Feed hungry babies stew
Hold babies gently squeeze

Give up my life of ease
Place on feet needed shoes
On mission trip overseas

Help babies who cough wheeze
For mothers good tea brew
Hold babies gently squeeze

Perfect week just do these
Open heart my love grew
On mission trip overseas
Hold babies gently squeeze

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Verse | |

Enigma's Calling

Extraordinary, I am 
Craving for unusual thoughts
Endless exploration without boundary
Understanding  the gift I shouldn't fought
Invisible drawings in my mind
Playing with the words in my head
My passion
The food of my soul
I feel so lucky
The random thoughts
A lifetime companion
A self esteem builder
A goal planner
Be my forever life saver
I write more
I talk less
I want to please
I chose to bore
What tickles me the most
Is to know what I'm for
Thinking is my love
When  my mind goes empty
That's when I hate
My day dreaming lust
Organizing things in my mind
Playing roles of simulation
Where images of art is my vision
And words of attitude is my heart

Copyright © Katrina Salem

Details | Couplet | |

2012 resolution Vol 3

Another fresh year is here, I would love to banish from my life, worry doubt & fear. I would like to be joyous, true and live life each moment with zest, and give the people around me nothing but the best. I would love to talk, communicate and break mental barriers that are creations, and work hard towards mending broken relations. I would love to tell my wife to give me all her tears and fear, and take from me all my love the loving words she likes from me to hear. I would love to make an effort to be a good friend, to my elder daughter and put all petty misunderstandings to an end. I would love to stop to the people in contact ,the shoving, and spend more time in loving. I would love to stop being disadvantageous and outrageous, and speak only the truth and for that be courageous. I would love to fight my emotions all unfriendly, and cover them all with feelings that are friendly. I would love to learn to be sensitive, and towards others be open and receptive. I would love to practice not to crib about all the things life has not given me, and be greatful for the great things around me I have an opportunity to feel and see. I would love to learn to be content about all I have received, and focus now on giving and helping those, whom life has deceived. I would love to pray for world peace and plant more trees, and work to help out for carbon emission decrease. I would love to learn to be unforgiving, and be more tolerant and caring. I would love to right some of my wrongs, and be true to myself and hum joyous songs. Finally, I would love to learn to be humble and full of gratitude, and to do so spend some precious moments of my day reflecting in solitude.

Copyright © sashi prabhu

Details | Couplet | |

If I Were To Work a Miracle

If I were to work a miracle I know what it would be
In selfish quest I'd ask to grow in someone's company

Then we could prosper sharing precious moments in life
If I could have the same children, I'd pray she would be my wife

I would treasure the ground she walks on, in joyous harmony
For before I requested this miracle, she opened my eyes to see

Many things we share, architecture and music are two
There's history and geography, she says binds me and you

But it's the music that cements us, especially with Queen
If I were to work a miracle, then this would be my dream

Copyright © James Fraser

Details | Lyric | |

In His Arms

In his arms

In His Arms you bury your head into his chest and release tears of anguish fury and disbelief.
Gently he caresses your back and says those four little words you were longing to hear. Not "Everything will be alright" But "I'll make everything better" and at that moment a ton of burden is lifted from your chest and into his hands, but to him feel as light as a feather. Trust is elevated and at most high because hearing those words from his honey thick voice makes it ooze from his skin. Unknowingly you find out not only does he sympathize but he empathizes because once in his life not only has he felt the same way, but you'd once said those same words and lifted a similar burden from his body reassuring you of his motives of loving you.

His arms wear scars from childhood, hard work and labor, to him they're not appealing, to you they're a work of art. It should be part of the suffix ology because you've study every detail of his skin, down to the six beauty marks and a tiny recent cut on his left leg right below his knee.

Those arms scream protection when they're around you. Not just physical protection but protection from what the world thinks of you. In those arms there's no judgment, in those arms there's no need to be perfect, contradicting his kind hold on you, in his arms you are liberated.

Just longing to be in his arms


Copyright © Amber Tharpe

Details | Narrative | |

I Lost a Whole Weekend (Please Pardon My Rant)

I am your champion, I fight for your cause,
my love and devotion give some people pause.

When I saw you I knew you, just like with your dad.
I guess our deep happiness makes some people mad.

I work hard at my job, so that we can live,
and hear me now, son, when it's time to give,
I am the one who ups the amount,
I've done this more often than I can recount.

I also work so your dad will be covered,
for doctors and dentists and allergists and others,
and who do you think pushed him to go
to the skin doctor some two years ago?

From the moment I met you, you felt like my son,
but this is a battle that cannot be won.
When your dad and I married, I didn't steal him away,
he's just as devoted to you to this day.

I heard someone had told you that I was "controlling,"
(I can't even write this without my eyes rolling).
Who insisted your dad fly to LA to see you?
Who worked overtime to pay for this venue?

I encourage his freedom, I've not clipped his wings,
his happiness, above all, is the important-est thing.

I will not be silenced, nor be vilified,
and it just breaks my heart when you take HER side.

and I'm tired of being so misunderstood.

So, pardon my migraine, it wasn't intended,
my strength just gave out as your judgement descended.

I lost a whole weekend, I slept like the dead,
I was just too defeated to face down my dread.
I kinda' felt reality shatter, unsure what was real,
like in "Jacob's Ladder."

We're getting no younger, your father and I,
the older we get, the faster time flies.
I love you as if you were my own child,
I'll not carry this burden unreconciled.

©Danielle White

Copyright © Danielle White

Details | Bio | |

me myself and i

Me myself and i

For I myself, 
Believe in myself.
For I love to stand by the book shelf.
In order to read some nice stuff.

Yoruba is my lineage.
I’m seen by my image.
And am called by my real name.
Buying things, I buy not fake.

I aim to be among the greats.
For one of my saying, says,
“Pays to be popular than being famous’’
Cos, famous people could be no-torious.

People say am pretty shy
That a time, I wish to cry.
Cos, I know I do try
To hide that, am really shy. 

I’m a Muslim,
For my religion is, Islam.
So, pock meat is an haraam.
But I’m free to dine on ram.

I wish to be a doctor 
So that youngsters can see me as a mentor.
I love teaching as a Professor.
For all that are great, are my mentor.

People don’t really know me,
So, this is to tell who I be.
For I prefer being a Lewis’ base,
Than to be a bronsted’s base.

Ridwan is my real name. 
Olyrid is just a nick name.
You better know before it’s too late,
For I involve not in a criminal case.

My advice for you in life is this:
Serve you GOD, when not in pains
For in good health a person fails,
But calling unto him when soaked in pains.

Is my yahoo mail.
I’m dark, friendly and a little tall.
And all I love is winning soul.

For all I hate, is the “big boys” style.
Cos “sagging” is what they like.
For all I do, it’s my own style.
So if you like, you can be my type!

Copyright © adelaja olayiwola

Details | Elegy | |

His Legacy

Up into the sky 
he soared 
like an Angel

With us 
down here-- 
at Soupland, watching him as he soared 
like an Angel;

So gentle… 
and brave 
he was,
a strong love he had, sharing it till the end, yet

His breath
could not resist the resounding call 
of Heaven 
and he left, 

Leaving us his poetry, for 
when great storms come in, his laughter 
will dry our tears like rain.


for Tom Bell, a great poet who taught us all-- 
to laugh and to smile…to learn… and to give.    

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

Details | Rhyme | |

Approvals I Should Praise

Approvals I Should Praise

The rhythm of my pen knows no bounds
Its ticks, treks, and steps knows no count.
The songs on my lip just loose the count.
No where, I suppose to untie the bond.

Strong bones are so much in here
They touch and squeeze out letters bountifully.
In these bones, many light I have received gracefully.
Linda is one, Andrea is two among all of you there.

You are all amazing guests in this field
Cup of water..., cup of tea come to toast.
Many hugs, many thanks to you, writ and host.
... Eden that crowns my garden and its yields.

Special parcel to my coy mistress, Linda.
All sea, roses...and sweet showers to you.
And my lady Andrea; always brand new!
I love you all... your words in my wall are tender.

Dedicated to:
Poet Destroyer A, 
Andrea Dietrich 
and to the rest of Poetrysoupers.

I     am     Grateful     for     your    warm      welcome.

Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole

Details | Light Poetry | |


Eyes of sapphire rouse my spirit.
Lull me senseless, love me blind.
Hands clasped, lips intertwined
in a passion fuelled clash 
of love and lustre.
Smile sirene concealed within
as in my arms ... 
Beauty sleeps.

Copyright © stephen clarke

Details | Free verse | |

I will not be late to work this morning

I will not be late to work today

I will get there on time
I will brush my teeth
Without singing songs
Without thinking about birthdays
About gymnasiums
About TAKS 
About sound
About war

I will get there on time
I will eat my oatmeal
Without thinking of 
Broken valentines
Strewn against a wooden
Like dropped goblets
From a robbers pillowcase

I will be there before the bell rings
My papers will be checked
My hair will be combed
My mind will be alert 
Ready to begin my lesson

I will not wonder why
My oldest son doesn’t have a job
I will not pray too long
For my daughter who is taking the bar today
At 10:30 AM in New Orleans
I will not scar my knees wishing
For some alternate world
Where children are never neglected
Or hurt
Where there is no abandonment

What nonsense to try and order the world
Just get to work on time
Put your things in the car, your projector and 
The white binders that you didn’t look at
All weekend although you were supposed to check the papers and put the 
grades on the computer
I will leave now
Before it is impossible to
Be on time
I will cream my ashy ankles

I will not focus on the white
Cat on the black pillow
With the green eyes
I will not water the plant
I will not watch TV
I will not write poetry
Before work

I will not write poetry
Before work
I will get to work on time
I will be ready
I will not be daydreaming about fog
Wondering if I’ll get Alzheimer’s like my mother
Or colon cancer like my dad
I won’t be thinking about that stuff
I will be locking the front door and 
Closing the gate and clicking the clicker
And starting the car and leaving

I will not be in my living room
Wondering if there is any reason to love
Because I do not love for reason
I love because He first loved me
It is not incantations or intoxication
Or imagination it is my life and 
The structure will come with the
Clearness of Bajan water
So clear you can see the fish
Fly float across the Atlantic

It is time
This poem must end
I will not be late for work
This morning
Not for nothing
Not for nobody
Not for anything
Not for everything

This poem is over 
the work day begins

Copyright © Rhea Daniel Dear

Details | Rhyme | |

This Load I Carry I Carry Not Alone

This Load I Carry… Along the road of life, I carry a large load… It feels quite heavy… As I travel a “bumpy” road. This load I carry is often difficult to bear… At times, I stumble… And caught “unaware…” The trials and hardships of life… I shall endure… I’ll try to stay on a path that is “safe” and “secure.” There are times, however, when I get in a hurry... As the storms of life often cause a “flurry.” During my travel… As I look up to the darkened skies… I can almost look into my heavenly father’s eyes… As God reaches down his arms so strong… He’s there to lead me when things go wrong. The Lord is there to help with my heavy burden… He’s also my guiding light… I am most certain! The Lord is my shepherd and is with me where I go… He’s brought strength and rest for my weary soul. This load I carry may be full of so many things… But grows lighter because of the love that God brings! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

Details | Free verse | |

Elevators: 5 Horsemen

Part 1


the delicacy of friendship

I found you in the flowers
Standing tall we become one
Looking down from gangly towers
Squash, you burn, you pillage, son.

Follow me you say in tongues
Thy shallow mind reveal me tell
Whisper lies clean load the guns
I feel the burn I rot in hell

Friend folly menacing the liar
I loathe this coffin how it leaks
Dear foe you raped me set on fire
The onion peal itself and weeps

Part 2


dear monkey boy

Older eyes eat themselves,
glance and kill the other
Unified in the dance,
they steer the musty rudder.

Pained and sweeter deeper wells,
poised buckets drunk with water.
Singled out the one that dried,
handed weights to pull him under.

Wiser times capture the mind,
death justifies dishonor.
Knife slice neat through the devil's back,
who stares blank and milks the udder.

Part 3


patron saint

Inside this box
Goodbye tempestuous fall
My puppet of steel coiled thread
Smashed buttons and twisted dread,
Alarm these doors, and
Escape this delusive bunker bed

Stamp the spiders
Thief, vulture of the deflection
The mocking patron of the sinners
Erase this affliction
Relating inward at the reflection

Rise you fool

Part 4


i love you

close the grip
cinched hematic grip
drenched, clawing
seeking the sheave
becoming the counterweight

i absorb, now
extracting the heat
rise like a phoenix
away to be gone to be free
fix me! i have fixed me

i am alive and i love you

Part 5

Aye, Damager

Abolish her state of disrepair
Scattered, spattered drippy thoughts
All around this box of soused leaves
Soak, ferment in the faith of our love

I can't fix this, you know
I loathe this misunderstanding
Of what I am speaking, projecting
To me, Aye Damager, to you

This devil in me
turned and twisted
A wrecked elevator in rejection
Years locked painfully aware


Copyright © T.R. Sevrens

Details | I do not know? | |


Take my body, work me slow...
Make me happy, work down low...
The things I wanna do, beg me if you wanna know....
Caress my body, go deep inside...make me climb the walls, make me lose my mind
Take your time and work me slow....don't worry bout your girl she ain't gotta know..
Make me want it so bad I could cry.... Make me go crazy trying to get ya lovin out my mind
Your skills are so hot....the time flies by so work me slow,.. make it good and 
make it last...
Twist me, bend me, make me touch my toes..... can you handle me baby i'm curious to know??
Work me slow.... there's plenty of time and no where else to go... so take your time and 
do it right.... work me slow and make it last all night...
The doors are locked, no one's round so scream my name and scream it loud...
Just take your time and work me slow do the things i like ...yeah you know ....Make me 
scream, make me cry ........make it hot just like i like.....
Tease me, and make me beg.......make it so good i cant hold up my legs......
You been sweatin me for a while but now it's time to throw down, so bring your lovin to 
me, work me slow and make me proud....

Copyright © stacey ward

Details | Free verse | |

Love, Yes Love

Never much money did my grandpa have,
but love, yes love, was all around,
his weathered skin, and calloused hands,
showed the world, he was a hardworking man.
With a tired old mule, he plowed his fields,
planting his crops, so all could have meals.
No Food Stamps way back then,
just neighbor helping neighbor, time, and again.
All the children had chores to do,
before the rooster crowed, before they left for 
Five little children, their hair so white,
walking down a dirt road, imagine the sight.

Copyright © Christy Hardy

Details | I do not know? | |

I love you mom

Long day at work and it already hurts
To know when I go home it will get nothing but worse

Im tired of going home to an empty fridge 
If she knew she was going to be on drugs why have any kids?

Hurting me to see her who gave me birth
Drugged up on who knows what I sit and sob in a shirt

Constant accusations of things I never do 
I'm going to stop right here wont even mention abuse 

When I step into that house its like a cloud of sadness
Been going on for years no way to stop this madness 

So many tears in my eyes its tearing me apart 
Nothing can add up to the embarassment and shame in my heart 

Expecially when all my friends have the "perfect mom"
Comming home to depression some nights I lay and sob 

What hurts the most Is I dont want to leave
I want to "stay and help mommy" its sad indeed

I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night
Praying to god as I cry to make everything right

"Please lord help my mom work things through"
"Her addiction is getting worse I dont know what to do"

"For her no one is there I dont even think they're aware"
"Infact I am the only one who still even cares"

"Lord I sit and stare as her conditions get worse"
"I need some guidance tell me where to start first"

I lay back in my bed and cry myself to sleep 
Thinking will she ever stop before it gets too deep?

Sunrises in the morning back up for work!
"Positive attitude" policy so I put on a smirk

Headed out the door for another long hard day 
Forcing on a smile thinking "its going to be okay"..

Copyright © Candice Collins

Details | Didactic | |

Made Man

Before his appointed place
And before his work and living,
There was a man
God did create.

Before he had a voice,
And before the woman was given
There was a man
That God did make.

Copyright © Leon Stacey

Details | I do not know? | |


it you a and i
we must try
to make up
yes times was ruff
good ad bad stuff
we both have trust
no doudt

Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr

Details | I do not know? | |

The Work Of God

We look outside to see the sunshine,
On a day so warm and bright.
The sun shining down from the heavens above,
Is Gods everlasting light.

We know in our hearts rain will fall,
And feed the plants and trees.
What a wonderful job he must have,
To create life and to part the seas.

When the weather start to get a little cold,
He wraps us in his heart of gold.
He gives us warmth and comfort as needed,
Until he feels that he has succeeded.

The love that you feel when he is in mind,
Is what you should feel all of the time.
For God our Father, our keeper, our Friend,
Will protect us and guide us until the end.

Copyright © Sheila Newton

Details | Rhyme | |

A Mechanic's Love Poem

You can be my hubcap if you let me be your wheel. The love I have for somebody like you is real. I can give you plenty of loving. I aim to please. I will be your radiator if you will be my antifreeze. You are so attractive to my eye my dear. You’ve got my transmission shifting into high gear. There’s no need to wait four thousand miles for an oil change. A date with you and me is something I can easily arrange. I can give you a tune-up with a new set of spark plugs. You just have to be around to give me plenty of hugs.

Copyright © Robert Pettit

Details | Free verse | |

Rebuilding the Shed in the Backyard - Again

My son is out fixing up the shed.
Winter is coming on. Needed doing he said.
He had the time and the bound-to’s.
I’m not used to this thought process, I’m not. Not from a child.

I watch him for a while.
Opening and closing gates as needed.
The dust, sifted into powder from summer’s heat, poof’s with his steps.
The heels of his jeans dragging strings on the ground, erase the tread of his 

The shed is old. There is algae or lichen on the north side boards,
where the wood is splintery gray.
Some of the lichen florets are the color of sage, some the color of a bright orange 
Circled with gray ones and black, their life cycle played out.

He hammers nails and screws in screws while holding boards in place.
Sweat glistening where skin is exposed, making long dark stains in his black 
Veins standing out against the strain, and
Muscles laboring to prove he can do the job well, without a mother’s help.

While he works I think about his father and how differently they work.
His father preferring team work and orchestrated smooth motion
working side by side, no extra movements – and he whistled.
My son needs to prove his skills first – alone.

The shed is done and it will brave another winter, keeping the horses sheltered 
from the elements.
The wind, snow and horses milling about, will obliterate the trail of pant cuffs, 
Along with the memory of one cool day at the end of summer, 
When a man worked hard to rebuild their shelter.

Copyright © Judith Angell Meyer

Details | List | |

Qualities of Health Engendering Women

They see strengths
Not the limitations
These are people who will make you proud of yourself
They will tell you why you’re special
Trust you to the point you have to answer their expectations
They make you better than you normally are
You can be proud of yourself
They respect you 
For what you’ve done
Where you’ve come from
They see what you’ve experienced something real
Respect you for your courage
They live by their rules
They do not expect you to follow theirs
They are at peace to themselves
They are not proving anything to you
They are good listeners
Sincere in their interest in you
You feel important
They are available for honest
Genuine discussion
Makes you want to share yourself

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Details | Sonnet | |

Beautiful Redhead aka: Irish Princess

 Dating a beautiful redhead girl will be the greatest moment of my life. She’s like an Irish princess, even better. Her hair is so red, it’s as if she’s on fire. Her beautiful eyes are like a pair of emerald gems when I look at them. And her pale skin is as beautiful as pure, white snow. It seems to me that all attractive redheads are amazing, and most of all, they’re down to Earth. This redhead is also like a beautiful, Irish Princess, even from the Emerald Isle (Ireland). I never dated an attractive redheaded girl before, but it’s about time that I did. Plus, there are other beautiful redheads who are famous, like Kay and Danielle Panabaker, Emma Stone, Hayley Williams, Lindsay Lohan, Lily Cole, and others. Not to mention Julienne Moore, even though she’s happily married. I wouldn’t mind dating a beautiful redhead, but she has to be from the U.S. or Ireland. She’s like that redheaded warrior from Brave. She’ll be my Irish Princess one day (Irish girlfriend), and I’ll be her American prince (American beau). I say, if I were to get into a serious relationship with this attractive redhead, I won’t break her heart; I’d also be honest and truthful to her. I know that female redheads are sensitive and I also know that she doesn’t want to be brokenhearted. All I know is that if I fall in love with a redhead girl and I become infatuated with her, there’s just no telling.

Copyright © Brashard Bursey