The boulevard of life
has no exit ramps,
Some find luxury
others homeless camps.
A single stop sign
lies at each road’s end,
But we never view things
beyond the next bend.
Each mile that we travel
we encounter another test,
Some, hold fast to faith
while feeling blessed.
We travel each mile
without thought or care,
While one day disco0vering
our vehicle shows wear.
Our fuel is most gone
and we cannot replenish,
But Jesus is the way
for our life trip’s finish.
God gave us a road map
offered without cost,
But too many didn’t accept it
and at their stop sign were lost.
trust me he said sweetly
i had my doubts but went along
surprise... instincts don't often lie
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
I have walked the hallways
where minutes gnash like teeth,
each second a pebble pressed
into the jaw of memory.
The air tastes of iron--
memory’s rust,
old prayers swallowed
before they ever touched the light
Yet still - I carry my candle
into the jaw’s dark cavern,
its flame a soft rebellion
against the grindstone silence.
Soft laughter rests in the cracks,
like seeds grabbed
into the frozen earth,
waiting for the frost to release them,
for spring to rise
from winter’s quiet.
I move onward,
not a hostage,
but marrow unbroken,
a hymn rising
through bone and enamel,
singing until the jaw
yields to the light.
I sit and think about all the shoulds
I could get off my duff and do it all
but I like staring out into my lovely woods
enjoying myself this wonderful fall
things need to be cleaned and tidied up
a plethora of messes should be put away
but I enjoy sitting out here with my pup
maybe I will do them all another day
my pony dogs step over each other
as if the other one is invisible
casually walking over head and feet
I try not to do this to either of them
if they rise up, I am being taken for a ride
If I break a hip, it’s over
anyone over seventy knows this
Typical short gray curly hair
Smile
She looked away from me as I entered
I would have said hello
She grasped her cane as she sat
Starring into the distance
Her shoes look comfortable
like a nurse's sneaker
She wore jeans and a sweatshirt
I was on my phone
browsing nothing
She thought about me
and I thought about her
Yet we didn't speak to each other
Did her husband pass
Did she have children
I could've initiated a conversation
We were alone in a room
with no music or tv's
When her name was called
"Janice"
She rose from her seat with ease
and seemed not to need a cane
Maybe that cane was for comfort
I'll never know because I lost a chance
to communicate with another human being
A syllable count
holds no doubts
the green leaf,
will turn to red
and then to brown
and crispy
in just one hand
gets crushed
released
and its then
the beauty
of something
becomes
nothing.....
We never
appreciated
the it....
Something
more than we
saw as
shining
a path founded
and gently
holding hands
kindly
of your castle
left in the sands.
My inner child
I hate the trembling
of this conscious
of my young cheeks
I wish suffered
the least.
But I swallow this
of the harrowing
of no built of bliss
but
how I came to miss....
Days I didn't sleep
for most of the days
of built we are of clay
and knocked of hay
I know my ways,
the scars I caused
I am a garden hose,
a killing
of a baby
as I sleep
in my dreams.
I hate
the welcoming
to this
reality,
scars
are harrowing
and I do not believe
you too
are over this.
The bubble is bound to burst
before long; therefore at least
A gondola you should opt for
For letting loose your emotions
Loaded with almost all oceans
Curved currents and foams
Potential fear amidst delight
and excitement; your sights
blurred by beauty that roams
along the edges of the figure
Flooding your whole existence
Mopping off all distance
Of time and space in braincase
Only the embrace, you write
and replace, the lips and face
In cloud base and fireplace
In cold case and in a horse race
Mewing wooing cooing
Howling, growling, prowling.
Doing, undoing and redoing
Life is never a straight line
Bland canned and flatland
It's waist band and dreamland
Fascinating woodland
Crescent and fluorescent
Incessantly effervescent
So no monochrome of woe
No saying always not and no
Instead, the bugle of gusto
In the meadow with a rainbow
Always the wonderful gun
In your lovely hair-bun
___________________
18 September 2025
Seems like only yesterday we carved our names in the bark of an old oak,
Each letter was a promise of tomorrow and forever, dreams of our future together~
Endless time, though each moment flitted by like a firefly at twilight,
Moving in and out of focus as we tried to catch the starlit skies
So close and yet so far.
Lightly did the world rest
In our love like a feather
Keeping us warm in the fabric of time,
Each moment creating a memory.
Years pass by and are scattered like leaves in the autumn breeze
Entering at the cold threshold of winter, the fabric no longer keeps us warm,
Seams start to unravel as life becomes a threadbare rag where beauty once created patterned
Tapestries of color,
Each thread wrapped around the presence of your laughter and spirit of you becoming one with me~
Roughly life has taken the half of me that was you,
Death is the curtain through which you have passed and through which I will soon follow,
Afterward the stars may write our epilogue as we journey in realms unseen,
Yet our names will remain carved in the bark of that old oak.
Life Is Not Life
Never. Life is only a perception, a detection. Experience
Life is so sensitive. Sometimes. Live the situations. Hard
But not always, if you can change your mind. A lot of kind
Yes, life is a way—our life. To find a better kind of our kind
Hmm. Then that is not only life. That’s what's wanted in life
Watching and feeling the life, we are just the sensors of life
But, this is good. We can exist, lives. Live life. Live the lives
Ours. From up. From Up. But why? This secret way. To up
This is our job. To do and live this human life. Then will up
Life is not life
I mean, not just life
Not just this
Not just human life
But I don’t know what over the life
I mean, what exactly is over the standard human life
I know what covers life, and who is the ruler of life
But what control over our lives?
I know. There are two sections.
One of them is mine. Demon
So, I mean
Your life
Never be
Your life
Your life
Not yours
Life is not life
His stash was spent.
No cash for rent!
They're All SLAVES!
To The MANNN!!!
I Mean: DOGS.
***
Even GOOOD Dogs....
Yess They Are,
Ohh, Yes They Arrreee...
'Grrr-ow-grrr-owwwowowwowowwww'
-Grray Squirrrel
09-17-2025
As I stand before the pearly gate
I reflect upon the hands of fate
The nature of my swift demise
That caught us all; quite by surprise
Reflections on a life well lived
Proud of what I’ve had to give
Pleased with those I leave behind
No desire to press rewind
What has been my claim to fame?
Will those left still know my name?
My life has been a lesson learned
The love I felt was surely earned
I leave behind my finest treasure
Love and knowledge beyond all measure
Future faith in life restoring
To build a world more reassuring
You're Always Welcome
To Evacuate...
From:
The Doo-Doo-Drop Inn!
-Gray Squirrel
If You're Looking For
Salvation, You Know
It's Not A Sin...
You're Always
Welcome To Leave!
From The
Dew-Drop Inn.
-Gray Squirrel
09-17-2025
Specific Types of Life Poems
Read wonderful life poetry on the following sub-topics:
adventure, carpe diem, courage, depression, education, family, funny, future, happy, heartbreak, introspection, journey, love, paradise, rhyme,
and more.
Definition | What is Life in Poetry?
Poems Related to Life
activity, being, breath, dash, energy, enthusiasm, entity, essence, existence, flesh and blood, growth, heart, human being, journey, life span, lifeblood, lifetime, liveliness, living, oomph, soul, sparkle, trials and tribulations, vigor, vitality, way of life, zest, zing,