These April Life poems are examples of Life poems about April. These are the best examples of April Life poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
How can I be selfless without being used?
How can I be demanding without being so rude?
How can I open up without closing back down?
How can I speak if you don't hear a sound?
How can I trust without being betrayed?
Yet how could I leave... even after you stayed?
But how can you love me when I won't let you in?
So many questions.... where do I begin?
Memories now blurred, flying through my mind……
Now, I’m trying to repress the days of being youthful and blind.
Every morning I pull on my armor, right from within,
Preparing for a war, that I intend, to win.
If my heart is my comrade and my mind is the enemy,
Then in the midst of this battlefield,
Life is the remedy…
Trying to stay sane, knowing that although this is temporary, nothing is vain…
Learning that there is always a purpose and people will try to corrupt us, and bring you great shame…
Being told that ‘Victory isn't given to he who starts the race the strongest, but he who endures until the end.’
Trying to suspend you from learning to depend... on yourself,
instead making you depend on the wealth,
Of someone who doesn't even know who he is,
while you’re grasping the stealth of your true identity, in your right hand, in your heart, the knowledge…
Never been withheld
Feeling the world come crashing down on you, compacting into a mist of air so cool,
The breeze passing right through, right into the depths of your pores, to ensue,
The burning and broken and fragile pieces of the inhabitants of the earth from your birth til' now..
Physically becoming everything that you breathe, touch, conceive, munch, perceive, every aroma...
And every great or insignificant trauma, reflecting off your skin oh so temporarily, the mark so paper thin…
Physically, THAT is what you are…
Because we only see the physical, right?
Yet, behind every movie is there not a director… a cast?
And behind every painting is there not an artist, combining colors and lines so vast?
And behind every child is there not a journey, a past?
That you did not walk, yet you know that it’s there, not by sight, scent, taste, touch, or hearing... But something inside you, that says it makes sense, KNOWS that all of that is there,
And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth
I stand among the reeds in the basin
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home
Oh how furious it was, God sent his power from above. He let the Black clouds
and the rain come gushing through our window panes. Oh what scary a sight to see,
I felt like running, I tried to free me. The gushing winds blowing so fast, I never
thought I would last. The winds he sent was meant to be, to warn all of us our
souls need to be free.
He sent his fury fast and long, we were all surprised where it roamed. The tornadoes
went from one county to another, sending its wrath, killing, destroying and giving us
trouble. Cries were heard throughout the night, People screaming and praying with
all their might.
The tornadoes did not stop, they destroyed our lands, and ruined our crops.
The devastation it left on our minds is here to stay and will never go away.
This is a terrible storm we will never forget, because it lasted a long time and all
of us were upset. We hoped and prayed it would pass us by, asking and praying
to God, please dont let us die!
We all tried to seek shelter in our homes, before we knew it, everything was gone.
Some of us found ourselves standing outside with nothing hardly for cover, we were
screaming and crying searching for one another.
They say that the only sure things
Are death and taxes
After gathering information and a bit of math practice and
carefully filling out the forms
And sending them in to various governments:
Federal, State, and Local;
After gathering resources and a lot of running practice
And carefully filling out the registration forms
And sending them in
For the Boston Marathon -
The end of the race would really be
The End of the Race?
As the runners crossed the finish line
And a few crossed over
No doubt, to cheering crowds of angels
And loved ones long past
This is fresh news; and no one knows
Who planted the bombs
They say that the only sure things
Are death and taxes
Who knew they’d both fall on the same day?
The cool dampness of the morn wraps its blanket around me inviting me come
sit enjoy..The gap in the hedge row calls my name; come into the mist be
shrouded and walk into the unknown as the rooster crows constantly stirring the
air with their vocals..The sun with its yellow light of illumination ever getting
brighter and warmer draws creatures of the sky to fly and sing praises..There is
beauty all around on this spring morn. .Silly Mocking Bird said Whip-Poor-Will
and for a second he had me totally confused was I getting up or going to
My name is flower
Of number one display and color
To commit suicide I decide
To take nuclear waste or pesticide
Am tired of you people polluting the air
Polluting our rivers and streams that's not fair
You clear out our jungles, you cut down our mountains
To make way for tall buildings Hollywood Mansions and fountains
You burn fuel for energy source
Depleting the ozone showing no remorse
You drill, you drain the earth of it's natural resource and nutrients
Causing a shift in the earth's plate
Evidence Tsunami and Earth Quake
I cannot take it anymore
This is the final straw
Yes am gonna commit suicide
Either by Nuclear Waste or Pesticide
O! yes you need me for oxygen
along with all other plant life existing
So if I were to take them all with me you'll die
You'll be no more... no lie?
So sit back admire the beauty, the splendor
The wonderful blossoming of a flower
In my last breath I write this suicide note
Dated 25th April 2011 by... flower
©Copyright April 2011 by Brian Pierre-Alexander
© All Rights Reserved
Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?
Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.
And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.
I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep.
Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.
And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.
The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.
21 February 2013
Written on 21st April 2012
By: Sashi. Prabhu (zeauoxian)
(This Ode is dedicated to the Administrative professional / Executive Administrative Assistants/Secretaries. I dedicate this to all the unsung champions who have worked selflessly in the shadows to brighten the futures and then silently steeped away into the twilight of their lives without a ray of expectation in any form.)celebrate 25th april 2012 ,60th anniversary.
You make yourself graciously present from the beginning or start,
to align processes and routines you pour out your big heart.
No words or action suffice to thank you enough,
You stand by and support through thick and thin when times get real rough.
Your tips, guidance opinion and advice,
are of utmost importance and cannot be gauged by monetary price.
You can never be thanked enough,
You really help mould your superiors and aid them to take on situations that are all rough.
To work without you is sure as hell,
In circles of times round and round without progress will superiors dwell.
To work with you is a real pleasure,
Your honed competencies, skills and ways of problem solving are a treasure.
You simply slice the ropes (lengthy time wasting procedures) that curtail us,
You battle the winds of change and interruptions for us to be in time to catch destiny’s bus.
In the hustle and bustle of daily chores and routines,
You execute work with precision by all means.
In stormy weather you stand by with great strength for all to see,
And when the chips are down you stand tall deep rooted like a tree.
Your kind heart and beautiful mind is a combination rare,
Every time we saunter or amble to our cabins you are there with a smile filled with care.
We really appreciate your kind and generous ways,
The order you bring with your overpowering yells and disciplinary displays.
You are always there to be a part of a team,
And back up everything to bring about into existence everyone’s “dream”.
You come to my mind when I think of sharing,
You come to my mind when I think of appreciating
You come to my mind when I think of giving
You come to my mind when I think of forgiving
On this occasion would like to thank you once more,
For all the things you have done and said open hearted and galore.
Thank you so much for supporting and being a beacon of light,
And it’s because of people like you many Executive futures have been made bright……..
If these eyes shall become blinded, and if this
hair shall come to be combed thinly and grey;
No, it would not be the end of the world.
I would still see beauty therein this world through
the songs of Crickets and Feathered Songsters.
The breeze would yet whisper and trees still dance.
I would yet smell the freshly bloom of Spring.
I'd still endure Summer's sweltering heat.
I'd yet feel Autumn's leaves crunch 'neath these toes.
I'd still long to be fireside with Winter.
Disabled or not, perhaps I'd yet walk
therein wonderful imagination.
How I'd be forever young at heart!
Then just as one journey came to an end,
I'd indeed greet another with a smile.