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Lyric Work Poems | Lyric Poems About Work

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

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Details | Lyric | |

New Deal

New Deal

Black Tuesday
     October 1929
     Vanishing wealth; stocks decline

Great Dust Bowl
     Windstorms and drought, top soil gone
     Breadbasket empty; nature’s con

FDR
     He’s the man, New Deal imposed
     Opportunities renewed; hopes rose

New Deal Reigns
     Work offered by the CCC
     Saves the lost American dream

Recession Echo
     The winter plunge 2009
     Who will save our dreams this time?

Reality Knocks
     Frustration with Congress, current events
     November elections a time to vent

New Deal Needed
     Americans looking for leadership
     Power from sheep about to be stripped



*For Constance, a Rambling Poet’s “Create your own form, maybe?” contest
By Carolyn Devonshire
I work frequently in this form that I choose to call “Headline Couplets.”  It includes a 
headline followed by rhyming couplets that address the concept, person or event in 
the first line of three-line verses.  Probably inspired by my years as a journalist.

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010

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 | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme | |

My Rodeo Cowboy

papa said 
son what you going to do 
with your life

now that you have 
no money job 
or wife

he said papa
I'm going to 
leave this town

think I'll
join up with the rodeo 
and break them bulls down 

Maybe even rope
me a stallion or
even a clown

Son you better
take another 
look around

for theres no money
for bull riders
thrown to the ground

or being stepped on
by a horse or bull
weighing over eight hundred pounds

Papa I promise 
Ill make you proud
of your rodeo cowboy when I'm done

And promise 
not to be thrown or bucked off
to the ground

So papa please come
visit when our show's
in town

for I'll be 
the one riding high on 
the biggest bull that's found

hanging on for just 
eight seconds while I'm
listening for that bells sound

just kicking those sides
of horses and bulls
jumping up and down

with coming out your
top rodeo champion and
bull rider found



Tribute To
The Rodeo Cowboys 
and Cowgirls


Hang Tough

Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2008

Details | Ballad | |

Leave the Ninety-nine

We must leave the ninety-nine
To go search and find
The one lost sheep
Wand'ring far behind
We must leave the ninety-nine
To go search and find
The one lost sheep-
Left behind  (Chorus)

Just suppose one of you has a hundred sheep
Then loses one of them and begins to weep
Would you not leave the ninety and nine
And go after the one on your heart and mind
And when it's found you would hold it closer
And carry it home upon your shoulders
Then call all your neighbors and gather all your friends
Celebrating your sheep that's back in the fold again

[Bridge]
Likewise there's more rejoicing
In Heaven up above
Over one lost soul who will repent
Than for the ninety-nine
Who are already found
To be righteous and so obedient  (So..)

(Chorus)

Now suppose one of you has ten silver coins
But then loses one of them from your collection
Would you not light the house and sweep the floors
Searching very carefully for what is yours 
Would you not put away the other precious nine 
And look in every corner until the lost one you'd find
Then call all your neighbors and gather all your friends
Celebrating you have your coin in your hand again

[Bridge]

(Chorus)

[Bridge2]
But don't forsake the congregation
And now's the time for visitation
To lead the lost ones to salvation
With God's angels in celebration

(Chorus)

Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them

Copyright © Green Trees | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric | |

An Oxymoron

Constructive criticism,
A term oft misused.

In enhancing another's,
Daily performance.

Be politically correct,
and leave less abused.

Positive feedback,
Encourages conformance.

Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: V

Omniscient guy
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Idyll (Idyl) | |

Beethoven Opus 133---poetically

Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011

Details | Ballad | |

Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound

Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound on my drumes i like to pound. 
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound i think it has a very cool sound. 
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound i would love to here it going around. 
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound don't let it turn your smile into a frown. 
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound here there where ever i am found in the sky or on the ground. 
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound i am so glad JESUS CHRIST  i have found. Bubba bubba bound Bubba bound and heaven someday i am bound. 
Buba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound.

Copyright © craig schaber | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric | |

My Boss And I

When I take a long time,I am slow,
When my boss takes a long time he is thorough.
When I don't do it I'm lazy,
When my boss doesn't do it he's busy.
When I do something without being told I'm trying to be smart,
When my boss does the same,that is initiative.
When I please my boss I'm apple-polishing,
When my boss pleases his boss,he's co-operating.
When I do good,my boss never remembers,
When I do wrong, he never FORGETS!!

Copyright © NWANDO OBIANYOR | Year Posted 2007

Details | Rhyme | |

HANDY MAN

Nail fools when I bang this hammer, construction worker

I use my tool, that's my chick, I love to work her

Ain't putting her on the strip, no prostitution

She's my problem solver, always got a solution

Put haters to sleep, tuck 'em, not in the bed

Love to give head, no sucking, fill the dome with lead

Me and her have intercourse, love to bust

A wonderful relationship, filled with trust

I'm twisted, like an almond, I'm a nut

Loose screws, gonna force me to tighten ya'll up

Crazy, Bang! Now ya' really lost ya' minds

Mess around and squeal, skin you pigs, call that pork-rinds

Demolition, I level fools, leave 'em flatline

Better not slip up, I'll run down on you, like your spine

Haters wanna hate, it's time to segregate

The real from the fake, hope you can relate

Backstabbing fools, smile in your face

That's why I'm handy, the hammer's on my waist

Mess around, make me catch a big case

Gotta' get away, try and make some space

Hopping on planes, to get away from lames

'Bout to change my name, ain't switching my game

Can't trust haters, trying to mess up your life

They're filled with strife, cut 'em off, where's my knife

They done made me mad, go grab my tools

For my craft, time to put work on these fools

Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric | |

Rome Wasn't Built In A Day On CD

She wanted a great big brand new house, among brand new other things,
and just to marry and be my spouse, she wanted great big diamond rings,
So I knew what she was about, when she wanted so much bling,
it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out, money was her thing.....

But you can't squeeze blood from a turnip, my ol' daddy use to say,
don't build bridges that burn up son, you'll need them again someday,
You're never too old to keep learnin', work hard to pay your way,
Keep a job and keep on earnin' son, ya know, Rome wasn't built in a day...

Well, she just wasn't the one for me, so she went on down the road,
and as far as I could see, she could carry her own dang load,
Yes, I'm so glad she's free, and she left my humble abode,
because she inspired this song to be, another one seeking gold,

But you can't squeeze blood from a turnip, my ol' daddy use to say,
don't build bridges that burn up son, you'll need them again someday,
You're never too old to keep learnin', work hard to pay your way,
Keep a job and keep on earnin' son, ya know, Rome wasn't built in a day.

On CD from Nashville...call 502-290-7524...if no answer...please leave message..thanks!

Copyright © Lawrence Ingle | Year Posted 2008

Details | Haiku | |

All About the Music: The Infinite Magic of Lyricism

Pop may be catchy
But not lyrically deep
Case in point: Chris Brown.


(N.B. Poem written after hearing "Don't Wake Me Up")

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric | |

The Unhappy Moth

She chose a red scarf. The most red 
of them all.
Of a dark red, a sweet and thick red color,
just as wine.

She carved from the red scarf
from the middle
to the size of a Martini glass.

Then she carved one more glass,
and she kept carving 
till she fell asleep.

Yesterday
she saw her Beloved Moth 
flirting with a Younger Moth, 
carving together from a sweater
while she was getting busy,
carving in the shelves.

The Unhappy Moth drank lots of wine
woolen wine, 
last night.
She drank lots, too much
for a Moth.
The Unhappy Moth got drunk
and fell asleep
on the red scarf,
unhidden
with a heart filled with peace.

She was not afraid no more. 
Now she could be seen easily,
laying on the scarf
and easily crushed.

The Unhappy Moth was not 
afraid of death no more,
at least, now she knew 
how wonderful the red scarfs are
and that they taste
like red wine.

Copyright © Doina Postolachi | Year Posted 2012

Details | Epic | |

Dynamite

Boom!!!
Everything goes flying
In the room!!
Units multiplying
Let me zoom
In on the carnage caused
From blown up pieces
Tossed abroad
Now it ceases

How powerful the wrecking crew
Imagining it's all about you
Now lessen your anger justly so
Make sure you're never left below

The Dynamite!

Copyright © Andrew Hart | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry | |

Office Goddess

She wafts chocolate truffle candyfloss scented skin,
Her fathomless eyes shimmer limpid pools I dreamily drown in.
Her complexion: olive cherry asses milk satin silken porcelain.
She's stratospeheric, serrates the class of Dietrich, 
She sashays mesmeric,
She's with a bastard called Derek.

She's the hallowed office goddess mermaid angel siren vamp,
Her hair shivers waterfalling rivers,
Celestial beings bow, hold her lamp.
Her swishing swaying graces and amazes
the trolls, Clarkson's, loup-garous and gargoyles of the office floor,
Grown men awe-struck blinded weep,
Stick needles in their eyes, yet want more.
That's deep.
The rainbow is her staircase,
She rides the unicorn on the subway,
Golden fleece wash over her umbrella,
She's with a bastard called Derek.

Derek is in HR.
Two bling screens flash on his not-hotdesk.
Derek does my annual appraisal,
That's the Derek I hate the best.
So, moving forward, where do you see yourself a year from now?
What skills do you need upgrading?
What added value are you..blah blah and blah..
I stare into distant space,
Where she floats swirling above my fishtanked face.
My brain is an impoding toupee,
My brain is an imploding toupee..

This Eden of tumbleweed plastic plant patsies,
Dry-blown biscuit phlegm and other tea point nasties:
Stinking microwaved day-glo pasties,
Herbal tea used condoms,
Bubonic plague used hankies.

Phosphorescent Guantanamo curdling strip lights,
Oven-ready office-gossip gobshites.
Air conditioning redelegating flu,
There's another weeping corpse-to-be suicidal inside this loo:
The grim reaper's temping here, playing peak-a-boo,
Sounds good to me,
Let's join them too.

Another annual appraisal,
Another horse glue-sniffing this fetid bolted-in stable;
Another century in a day of years,
Three million unemployed: wish you were here?
Who left the photocopier jammed?
Hands up if it was one of us damned.
Who hasn't put money in the snack tin?
Who splattered their soul in the wrong recycling bin?
For this dog the office Christmas party isn't for Christmas, it's for life,
Derek has the office goddess,
And I'm left clutching this plastic knife.

(I've also started recorded some of my poems this week and uploading them on my new you tube channel. Just type Suki Spangles in its search engine)

Copyright © Suki Spangles | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Enjoy Yourself

You work and work for years and years. You're always on the go. 
You never take a minute off, you're too busy makin' dough. 
Some day, you say, you'll have your fun when you're a millionaire. 
Imagine all the fun you'll have in your old rockin' chair,
so enjoy yourself, it's later than you think. 
Enjoy yourself while you're still in the pink. 
The years go by as quickly as you wink,
so enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it's later than you think. 
Your heart of hearts, your dream of dreams your ravishing brunette 
has left you now and she's become somebody else's pet. 
Lay down that gun, don't try my friend to reach the great beyond. 
You'll have more fun by reaching for a red-head or a blonde, 
so enjoy yourself, it's later than you think. 
Enjoy yourself while you're still in the pink. 
The years go by as quickly as you wink.
Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it's later than you think. 
You love somebody very much, you'd like to set the date, 
but money doesn't grow on trees so you decide to wait. 
You're so afraid that you will bite off more than you can chew. 
Don't be afraid, you won't have teeth when you reach ninety two, 
so enjoy yourself, it's later than you think. 
Enjoy yourself while you're still in the pink 
The years go by as quickly as you wink, 
so enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it's later than you think.
You never visit nightclubs so you never get a dance.
You don't have time for silly things like moonlight and romance.
You only think of dollar bills tied neatly in a stack,
but when you kiss a dollar bill it doesn't kiss you back,
so enjoy yourself, it's later than you think.
Enjoy yourself while you're still in the pink.
The years go by as quickly as you wink,
so enjoy, enjoy, enjoy yourself, it's later than you think.
Enjoy! Enjoy! Enjoy Yourself! It's later than you think.
*
http://youtu.be/JYpOb-PQyNg

Copyright © SillyBilly theKidster | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Quit My Job, Smashed My Car

Quit my job, smashed my car
My back does throb, need to learn guitar

So I can make, a silly song
And I can sing, it all day long
About how, my God is strong
So that even now, nothing’s wrong

Even though, I quit my job
smashed my car, my back does throb

Life is hard, but I’ve got God
So I won’t let any thought
Any worry or fear
Convince me you’re not near

Even when, I quit my job,
Smashed my car, my back does throb
Life is hard, but I won’t sob
I need to learn guitar

Copyright © Roland Fleming | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric | |

Soup

Findings of friends in this hot soup
Steamy weather, a pigeons coop
Lean on my eyeballs
Ill SEE What I can do?
before the sky Falls in on YOU

Copyright © Heydon Bunting | Year Posted 2010

Details | Lyric | |

Until My Ticker Expires

Work seven till five - to stay off the street.

When I do overtime  - come home dead on my feet.

Seems month after month - can afford less to eat.

When they raise my rent -  could be out on the street.

 

My car’s fairly new;  got a decent TV.

My home has a view.  The bank owns them, not me.

I went back to school, got another degree.

Still work like a fool - cause of the ‘conomy.

 

Ain’t yet had a raise - since the day I was hired.

Each check buys me less.  Cost-of-living gets higher.

My one biggest fear’s - that I’ll never retire.

I’ll be working somewhere - ‘til my ticker expires.
 

Ain’t yet had a raise. Come home dead on my feet.

Each check buys me less - Can afford less to eat.

My one biggest fear,  since the day I was hired:

I’ll be doin’ overtime  - until my ticker expires.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric | |

I Can't Say It Without You

I was your never ending composer
We spent many a nights, and many an hour together
But now you’re lost inside
And I can’t find my way, again.

( chorus )
Cause I can’t say it without you		
It hurts to be without the feeling		
Never knowing when it will return		
But I know that you would stay with me	
If you came back, again some day		
But till then I’ll wait till you appear.	

I really miss the way you make me feel
People said we were meant to be together
Why’d you leave me so unexpectedly
I hope you come back soon.

( Chorus )

It’s been two months since I’ve written you
All I’ve got to show is crumpled bits of paper
The passion and creativity is now gone
So come back home so I can work it out.	

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric | |

What a TV Show - Parody of "We Can Work it Out"

I've recorded the song, which you can hear here:

I did vocals and guitar - Sung to the tune of "We Can Work it Out" 


What a TV Show

American Idol
There’s so many loonies seeking fortune 
and fame
But I’m suicidal
Paula Abdul’s gone and Ellen’s just not the same

What a tv show!
What a tv show!

Some of them have talent
Many more are fruitcakes who love to screech 
and howl
Oh so brave and gallant
‘Til they’re subjected to the snide remarks of 
Simon Cowell

What a tv show!
What a tv show!

For every Clay Aiken, 10,000 Sanjayas
Are making an awful sound
You’re much mistaken if your burning desire’s
To hear Larry sing “Pants on the Ground”

Can I find a reason
To withstand my co-workers gentle rebukes 
Yet every season
I tune in for more zany crazy tone deaf kooks

What a tv show!
What a tv show!

For every Fantasia, 10,000 William Hungs
Eagerly wait in the wings
They’ll amaze ya, these delusional throngs
Tell me why do we enjoy such things? 

American Idol
There’s a bunch of loonies seeking fortune 
and fame
Think I need a Midol
Good or bad, next year we won’t remember their names

What a tv show!
What a tv show!


For John Heck's "Beatlemania" Contest - The Beatles "We Can Work it Out"

Copyright © Corinne Curcio | Year Posted 2010

Details | Lyric | |

Almaz Made The Flowers Arrange-

As I did gaze upon her for the first time as she labored in small shop in what appeared to be 
a hole in a wall that open into this place where she did work all day. Almaz was an Ethiopian 
beauty with gorges reddish color hair which was filled with big curly locks that seem to flow 
into an endless chasm of never ending twist and turns, with a smile that seem to light up that 
tiny little room. A rare beauty was she to behold, elegant yet graceful and humble in her 
soul…as I did watch her as she did strategically place each flower by hand one by one and 
with each gentile twist or turn of her soft golden tone skin colored hands until a work of art 
was form inside of each vase that they did adorn.  

Sometimes the vases were made of glass or maybe of some type of fine cultivated stone …
but each one that was made to become a work of art made to express someone else’s 
declared love or concern for a love of family member or even the lost of an unrequited love 
and she did do her best to express their thoughts with the arrangement made from the heart. 
With her beautiful brown eye’s that seem to tell a story of a pain and a deep love for her 
family… that she displayed with each piece of work that she did make. With each day of hard 
work in this small shop where she toiled all day in her endless attempt to repay her family 
for a debt that she so desperately wanted to repay…for it was the love of her father that had 
brought Almaz the flower arranger to this place. 

So many people do take the love of their family for granted, but… no not this lady…no not 
this lady…no not her ever, not even for a second in a day. Almaz made the flowers arrange 
all day, all for a debt of love that she wanted to repay. Little did she know that it was already 
repaid in full… with a father’s silent pray of love to see his daughter in a place where her 
dreams could blossom in the promise land, were no Kings are crowned or Queens ruled, but 
in this place of commoners were freedom was born to rule. Were even the poorest of men 
could rise to the highest office in the land. Truly your father has completed his arrangement 
in the vase with the most beautiful flower that he could find to place it in for the whole world 
to see, Almaz you are that flower that completes his arrangement.

Copyright © Jay Anderson-Taylor | Year Posted 2009

Details | I do not know? | |

The Busy Bees Life

The busy bee carried the nector
From one flower to another
Moved her exhausted wings, struggled like Hector
She fall, but she shall die but not serve the Queen mother

But today was so bizarre
She was the only one working hard
She saw a bee sitting on a flower smoking a cigar
And a servant bee, in a Jaguar car

"What is going on?" she said
Many questions were in her head
When she returned home, all bees were in bed
"Oh, no one is working" she said

Bees were not eating honey but bread
"I am going to tell the Queen" she said
She went to the Queen's room, with a heavy head
"Oh" the Queen was with a servant bee in bed

"What do you want , you idiot bee?"
"Busy bees I can no longer see"
"Are you dump? Today is free"
"A vocation, can't you see?"

The bee woke up with a heavy head
"Oh, what a nightmare" she sadly said

Copyright © Ahmad Magdy | Year Posted 2006

Details | Lyric | |

Red Rose Left Burning

In the name of love
she makes the same old mistakes
every time he lies

but it's all the same
as she runs away with hopes
it'll work this time

Just to realize

love is whack in the heart of a woman
truly believing the lie of a man 

he strips her of love

as she refuses to lie down and die
accepting a burning bleeding red rose

she stares at the stars

no longer evident in his dull eyes
wondering who is he saving them for

just to realize

In the name of love
she makes the same old mistakes
every time he lies

but it's all the same
as she runs away with hopes
it'll work this time

Copyright © Barbara Washington | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric | |

Dead to the World

Dead to the World…

I don’t feel good about anything anymore
Look at me; I’m dead to the world
Nothing is sacred, no one is safe
Just look at me, I am dead to the world…

Say goodbye to a friend that has reached an abrupt end
It’s much more than a job when it has become a way of life
You must see it in another way
Realizing that it’s not your life
And the path ahead is clear and bright again

But look at me, I don’t feel good about anything anymore
Face down; I’m dead to the world
Nothing is sacred, no one is safe
Just look at me, I am dead to the world…

All good deeds die with the day and all good days just as bad will end
At the end of the tunnel always bathed in light you’ll stand
The human contradiction in shades of light and dark
The fire inside is burning but still won’t give off a spark

I don’t feel right about anything anymore
Just look at me, I’m dead to the world
Nothing is sacred, no one is safe
Face down; I am dead to the world…

You give it all there is to give 
Your blood, your sweat, your tears
And what rewards will be there for you
After you have given so many years to the cause
But a short and cold goodbye, heartless and thankless

So look at me and you will see;
I don’t feel good about anything anymore
Face down; I am dead to the world
Nothing is sacred, no one is safe
Look at me; I am dead to the world…



Copyright © Michael Domaracki | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric | |

As The Road

Outside the group that's outside the box
seeing inside the outside Im shocked
how you shape our fate as it knocks
on imaginations and what they concoct

My dream craves standards, but they take work
here efforts actualize ideals
tough labors haunt tall morals that lurk
conscience yielding obsession's appeals

Then I want to want like I need
I want to make like I eat
and overgrow like a weed
lead the way as the street

Chance is the string in front of the cat
you wiggle it and they start to hunt
powerless to hope, now a door mat
contours the form of fantasy's brunt

My dream yearns for spirit's fruition
This needs my best and the will to provide
Then integrity tugs ambition
then my drive to succeed won't subside

And I want to want like I need
I want to make like I eat
and over grow like a weed
lead the way as the street

Outside the outside wants inside the inside
thirst and honor feeds the ride
swallow and beg with my mouth open wide
for virtue to lead the way of the guide

Copyright © Richard Bates | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric | |

Trees and Dirt

Trees and dirt I sleep on the earth, the dust the sand, longing to birth.
Oil on skin, bare, 
sweat on your back, 
feels amazing.
Yes! Im back on track.
Sleeping cosy as a worm, 
unencumbered by any material possession or fixed term.
Free to explore, a magical universe, 
I must implore.
No home, no chores, no bills to pay. 
Just water, food gathered and warmth today.
A dusty cave, cute as a button, no slamming door, 
just love in your belly, to the very core.
I love this realm, 
just need more time, 
time to explore.
Trees and dirt  I sleep on the earth, the dust, the sand, longing to birth.
And return once again to mother earth.

Copyright © Heydon Bunting | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

The Hardest Thing

Last night we had a quarrel
We went to bed so mad
Each had to get up early
The morning was quite sad
I never meant to say that
I know you didn’t, too
With hopes to reconcile
Just know that I love you

Yeah darling…
It couldn’t be more true

That’s why 
Leaving you
Is the hardest thing to do

Each morning when we go to work
A piece of me, it goes with you
I cannot wait to get back home
To do those things we do

That’s why 
Leaving you
Is the hardest thing to do

I hope tonight we’re civil
We listen and we learn
Together, we’ll get past this
Each others trust, we’ll earn
So, then we can retire
To the bedroom that we share
Lie within each others arms
And show how much we care

Yeah darling…
It couldn’t be more true

That’s why 
Leaving you
Is the hardest thing to do

Each morning when we go to work
A piece of me, it goes with you
I cannot wait to get back home
To do those things we do

That’s why 
Leaving you
Is the hardest thing to do

And when my work’s over
I will come back to you

Copyright © Michael Degenhardt | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric | |

her toys are his

He lurks in the evening 
his black polished car 
the driver can say nothing 
he knows this and goes far 
into the very world 
he is so against 
he calls her up at night 
and pays with our expense 
she comes with a bag of toys 
reserved only for the players 
only for the ones 
who can afford to pay her 
and when the morning comes 
his sloppy body lies in a stale sheet 
of the night before
he does this every week 
and everything is free 
because he has a pen 
in which he writes it off 
again at our expense 
a hotel stay for business 
is a night of pleasure 
when you are the one 
people call the governor.

Copyright © Amy Kramer | Year Posted 2012