Here further down the hillside slope
Down close to the creek with hope
My husband bought a house, land
Fenced in and made many plans
Subdued the land to cow pasture
And planted a garden, fruit trees sure
Fathered another child to call him sir
The creek seemed to like the stir
Enjoyed the children for a little while___
Loved them so that it made her smile
Today she loves grandchildren the same
No girls there are in frills ___tame
The creek keeps on flowing to the sea
The land is mostly stripped of trees
(This is my adaptation of Robert Frost's poem "The Birthplace". I hope that it does not insult
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010
A man I am and near my end.
I have other men to call me friend.
And women round me for the lust
And four leaf clover for the luck.
Beer or buttermilk to drink
And time I have to sit and think.
I have meadows which to mow
And I have crops which to sow.
I have men that call me sir.
I have work to be concerned.
I have obligations piled.
Work to do from mile to mile.
I'd trade it all, to be, you know
A barefoot boy, with a fishing pole.
To rest in the shade by a river bed
Soft grass to lay my youthful head.
Fish and skip stones on waters calm
And sleep out all night -when it's warm.
To unravel natures mystery there
Why the turtle wears a shell?
How the Oriole's nest is hung?
How the frog's croak is sung?
Why the Blue-Bell does not ring?
Why the hornet likes to sting?
My work keeps me shod like a mule
Only in dreams, youthful things I do.
When work here ends, to Heaven I go
To be a barefoot boy, with a fishing pole.
Copyright © Mike Samford | Year Posted 2007
~~~ A Day In The Life ~~~
Up at dawn and off to work.
Garden center today , that was a perk.
Watched two hummingbirds in mating dance.
Almost embarrassing but I snuck a glance.
With an hour to go I'd had too much sun
so back inside until the shift is done.
Long shift over, off to the store.
Milk and Chinese food but I still need more.
Stop at the liquor store for some wine
and now this day is turning out fine.
Dinner is done and nap time is now.
That hour in bed refreshes somehow.
Now open the wine and pour a glass.
In front of the T.V. I'll park my ass.
We single women are fine on our own.
You don't have to feel lonely just because you're alone.
Tomorrow... I'll start all over again
but this "overworked, underpaid" can be a real pain.
my day today 16 /07/ 2015
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2015
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 | Year Posted 2011
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 | Year Posted 2012
I was told I was sarcastic
But I’m not made from plastic
So I’ll say it clear and loud
Of the sarcasm I am proud
I wouldn’t be so contrite
If we did things freakin’ right
While working with eyes shut
And our nose up someone’s butt.
How could I possibly be sarcastic
When everything seems so drastic
My sarcasm is through frustration
Guess where I get my inspiration
Sarcastic? How could that be
I’m just describing what I see
Everyday I feel more dazed
But I’m also totally amazed
My headaches keep accruing
Does anyone know what they’re doing
Did I leave my mind back there
I’ve seemed to lost it somewhere
I promise I’ll watch what I say
If I see something right someday.
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2008
Like a warm cotton bud used to give inner ears a clean
there is something comforting about routine.
Knowing where you stand and the order of play,
knowing what to expect at every point in your day.
Living to a schedule, everything has it’s time and place -
knowing the slots you have free for any plans you need to make.
Wardrobe colour-coded, in garment order.
Wallpaper with a matching border.
Appointments at ten to, five to, on the dot.
Check, double-check, the doors are locked.
Yellow ball, green ball then pot the brown.
Big box, little box, upside down.
I like to gaze into the sky and dream, of an afternoon.
Relaxing. Like the scent of a chaste tree, when in bloom.
A cold glass of lemonade, a long and foamy bath,
humming along to the radio, a love that warms the heart.
Reading the Sunday paper, and making it an event,
the delightful things the kids say, things only they could invent.
His reputation precedes him: a disruptive, class clown.
Never completes his work, he’s always mucking around.
A big-mouth, show-off with far too much to say:
He asks if I ever considered teaching him in a different way.
‘A physical learner’ - he’s heard about it on the news.
There could be something in it…but I’ve far too much to do.
Cars whiz about, people in a hurry.
“I’ve waited over an hour for my curry.”
Twenty four seven lifestyle, word abbreviation.
Text message becoming the preferred means of communication.
Everybody rushing, to keep on schedule, to maintain status quo.
Everyone a cog in the system: You’re whipped, if you don’t row.
Seamless is the transition between asleep and awake,
when you just let it happen, not worry about being late.
An unrushed project results in a rewarding prize:
taking your time meant you got it right.
So bin the itinerary, flout the rules,
just for once why don‘t you try something new?
Copyright © Lee Price | Year Posted 2007
The air is fresh, mornings crisp and clear
God I do love this time of year
Vibrant colors abound on the trees
Gracefully falling with the breeze
The workday runs from sun to sun
Until the "Bringing in of the crops" is done
I am a lucky man to live this life
Respect of my community and loving wife
Sometimes in life the land yields plenty
The blessings throughout the day are many
As I watch the sunrise to the east
It gives my soul a spiritual feast
For all my friends everywhere
To my Lord a silent prayer
To the north her majesty appears
For all to see beautiful and clear
Forever snowcapped and standing tall
Lady Shasta watches over all
To the south another blessing to see
The Sutter Buttes clouded in mystery
It was the Lord that gave them their birth
The shortest mountain range on earth
The coastal mountains to the west
Offers the sun a place to rest
Followed shortly for all to see
The "Harvest Moon" clear as can be
Then comes a moment that is hard
As I head my "Cat" off to the yard
My final ride of this year
My face accepts a single tear
My heart becomes full of sorrow
I inject myself with poison tomorrow
Thats the price that a junkie must pay
Years after he has changed his way
The reason is very clear to see
I put myself "At risk" to hepatitis C
I can't stop the fear from flooding in
What will it be like to hold a rig again
Through all the loss and all the gain
I reckon that moment will bring me pain
But through the pain I'm able to see
God has his angels covering me
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2007
I wake, bright and early like the sun
I fall asleep a few seconds before dawn.
With a few hours of sleep
I found myself counting sheep.
Drinking coffee before I leave
Found myself in a zone not even I believe
I kick the neighbors dog real far
Tired of him barking before I get into my car
Turn my radio on real loud
Enjoying music loud and proud
I never late
I'm responsible in this job I hate
The owner taps the door and found me asleep
Up in my face like a creep.
He tells me I am lucky he can not work alone.
Why I insist of not waking him before I leave our home?
I bet he wishes he could fire me
I will not agree
As soon as I log out of the Poetry Soup I tell him when I'm done.
When he goes to bed I still find myself roaming the Internet for fun :)
With a goodnight kiss, he asked, if I could give him some
I say just one more comment hun, I'm almost done
By 4:00 am I am still on the Soup.
He wakes up to the same situation
Yells at me, he grabs my laptop and then he........
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010
My nightmare is so tangible...so vividly I dream,
The dream, it feels so true to me...reality it seems.
Exhaust and smoke are all I breathe...the air is full of smog...
The job I do is thankless toil, but I work it like a dog.
There's mercury in the fish I eat...there're toxins in my food...
And drugs, they are a constant scourge...myriads for every mood.
Bipolar is my government...a house divided 'tis...
And corporations drive both sides...in the pockets of "Big Biz".
The icecaps, they are melting...the sea is rising, too.
Pandas, condors, polar bears -- empty cages at the zoo.
My money ne'er seems quite enough...I'm always out of cash...
My freedom fled when I wed my bride...(live I under the lash).
"Entertainment"? Reality TV...maybe some vampire shows...
Or idjits becoming household names for being beachfront "ho's".
People clamor "climate change" from the seats of S.U.V.'s,
And bitter news on the honey front...what's killing all the bees?
Politicians spending more...we go deeper in the red.
Opinions dressed as "news" abound...is journalism dead?
Cell phones are ubiquitous...conversation's endangered now...
And "Kardashians" are famous girls..but who knows why or how?
How strange my twisted psyche is t'make real what must be fake...
Now'f only I could find some way to get myself to wake.
Written on November 27th, 2012
By Daniel Beus (Rebel Sun)
Copyright © Daniel Beus | Year Posted 2012
Giving billions of pounds to banks that just squander
Sharing bonuses and gifts, as they internally launder
To Mr Cameron, an alleged Prime Minister for the people
You work for us, do your job right, climb our steeple
Currently in our workforce, there are ten million or more
Aged over fifty, by the score, by the score
Pay them all a million, let's call it severance pay
Retire them early, ten million jobs now in play
With their monies they must buy, a brand new fancy car
Ten million cars ordered, a motor industry to travel far
A house they must buy, or a mortgage to pay off
A dying housing crisis sorted, no builders will scoff
To their kids who have become idle, youthful travesty
No excuses now, to schools, college or universities
So many kids will be removed, no hanging about our streets
Education being their answer, crime fixed, the ultimate treat
Buying fuel for their new cars, purchasing a few bottles of wine
Their taxes and expenditure, will leave the economy fine
What the tax payer has laid out, as they internally launder
Whom we have voted in, do your job, we'll grow fonder
Adapted from an email I received at work today.
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2011
Still angry from revolutions long past
Greed wondered how long it would last
The occupy people have been asleep
Their eyes closed not making a peep
Now awaken they look at privation
Asking what's happen to their nation
Progress was not suppose to add more
For all of those who are money's whore
The plan was suppose to provide enough
For those struggling in life finding it tough
Wondering if it's too late to escape their fate
Revolution or Armageddon may be on the plate
Now for occupy to really develop and grow
They will need to find new ways not to owe
Edward J Ebbs - 11/06/11
Inspired by contest - NA
Copyright © Edward Ebbs | Year Posted 2011
Near a house by the lake
on a dock by the shore,
a young lad would fish
for his family now poor.
He goes to the golf course
and wade's the cold lake,
to find the lost golf balls
then sell off his take.
He'll shovel your driveway
when snow's finally here,
and clean out your gutters
when rain's finally near.
He'll mow all the lawns
he can fit in a day,
he's seen on some farms
when their taking in hay.
And when night time comes
and he kneels by his bed,
he thanks God for work
while bowing his head.
He prays that our troops
will win these new wars,
then his two brothers
can help with the chores.
We all need his outlook
when money gets thin,
he's out there trying
he's out there to win.
Copyright © Daniel Stevens | Year Posted 2007
Lets raise our hands and all rejoice
Allow the world to hear our voice
This time of year the work never ends
We join together and help our friends
That’s how the Lord would have it be
I offer help to you, you offer help me
We are working together hand in hand
Because our harvest shall feed the land
Praise the Lord I want it to show
Jesus is the harvester of my soul
Jesus is now who harvest my crop
From the bottom straight to the top
Written for Brian's contest. Being from
a farming County the Harvest is very
dear to me. Last year I missed it due
to my back, this year I'm in school. I
think I'll go out on the weekend and
work a few hours for free just so I can
remain a part of something that I love
so much. Nothing like the smell of the
harvest in the morning, waiting on the
dew to dry so you can roll up in the Rice.
God I do miss the long days of honest
work but the Lord is Harvesting my life
in a new direction.
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2009
From an early age she yearned for something great
What it was she did not know, but she really couldn’t wait
For many interests she had, both large and small
Her love of animals and great friendships, she grew with them all
An insecure father who controlled all around
Was mitigated by mom until she was ground down
All added to the general confusion we experience early in life
But our values and strength of character help us with strife
That we continuously face over our time on this earth
Which produces some grit and grime that impedes our search
For that pinnacle of happiness, whatever it is
The finding for some is like taking a quiz
On subjects we don’t quite understand
With no guarantee to reach that promised of lands
Of joy, contentment, bliss, all words that describe
Whatever we believe is that ultimate ride
Her journey is similar to many of us
It’s good times and bad that cause a great fuss
Her strengths are vision and commitment to move towards a goal
Not letting “reality”, pain, or confusion take too great a toll
Understanding that it isn’t just reaching the end
But enjoying the journey and making sure you ascend
To that place of places we all want to be
Our true heart’s yearning, I think you’ll agree
For her specifically, that is to say for my wife
She’s given me all that I wanted in life
A great family including kids, dogs, cats, horses, and then some
And encouragement to go after a calling that was right under my thumb
She’s a great friend, and remarkably so
That I want her to have that additional glow
That comes from achieving her ultimate heart’s yearning
Making something out of nothing, using passion and life’s learning.
Copyright © Shawn Sackman | Year Posted 2009
Your own successful biz,
that's what your best job is!
Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014
People who are kind and wise
their success will surely rise
Copyright © Maylin Wongjarupun | Year Posted 2013
(Gail's note: This is the sequel to the Email to Subby Conscience poem.)
From: Subby Conscience
Re: Communication between You and Me
Date: February 14, 2012
While I sneak and scheme in your chaotic REM
I am doing nothing more than being a friend.
Those dream-swirls and ‘mare-tugs purge your mind’s eye
so that your psyche can grow and won’t suddenly die.
While you’re gripping tightly to antique feelings that won’t budge
I’m prying them out; giving them a strong nudge.
And as you grudgingly work through a feeling or two
I am working my hardest to make you feel what is true.
I even may help you work out a solution or two
Because during the day you are too busy to.
Who else provides perks that allow you to be
both young and old in the very same dream?
So tell me dear, and answer me this.
What would you do if many nights I missed
And was sneaking around in another soul’s REM
What would your sanity be like then?
Without my help to work out thoughts
That keep you quite sane…
Would you then turn around
And try to cast blame?
Saying Subby’s absence caused you to act like a drip?
Saying Subby’s absence caused your tongue to Freudian slip?
Instead your mind can skyrocket and cozily soar
After I recede in the A.M. and work behind your mind’s door.
Copyright © Gail DeBole | Year Posted 2012
--Mother, wearing a red bandana around her hair...
hummed "Oh, Susanna", while dish soap scented the air --
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2011
How often do you visit the Library? And what do you see?
I see oceans and seas of books plus a homeless man doing zzz’s..
He’d apparently been reading before, he fell deep asleep.
He can stay there, they say, as long as he doesn’t lie down to sleep.
Sitting up is OK and of course, as long as he doesn’t create a scene.
He’s kind and gracious and a little strange but can debate any role
When he walked over, we had a talk about the devil verses mind control.
Without asking, what he really wanted was someone to buy him lunch.
There’s a McDonalds two doors down from where we were bunched.
I don’t know what I expected when he woke up and looked around.
But when I asked if he was homeless he wasn’t fazed at all.
Yes, I have been for a while, he said, but my boat will soon come in.
And I realized the library is a warm, safe place to relax and to be.
And the librarians seem content to just let him be.
In the end, I was sorry I couldn’t buy him that lunch.
But recently, my abilities to do so had become a little stretched.
I used to buy the books I read… now the library is more my taste.
I just hope if it comes to that… he’ll graciously share this place.
The library even has computers from where you could write.
And the people there are varied and really rather kind.
I’m on the edge but whole family’s once prosperous are already there.
Cheap hotel rooms in even cheaper hotels, once skirted are full.
The jobs don’t pay for anything more. They are: Bitter, Disgruntled, Lost.
Needed are better and more jobs to re-establish the American Dream.
To give them some hope so they can go back there again…
And don’t just act toward them… like they’re your library man…
Give them back their American Dream as best you can.
Voice of Reason Contest
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2011
I needed a way to release from inside,
All of the tears that I never cried,
My head was exploding from all I kept in,
While onto my face I glued a fake grin;
I hid inside my suspicion and fears,
And locked them away for many years;
They built up a wall and trapped me within,
Until I didn’t even know where to begin;
I had every emotion locked in my heart,
So I started to write, I made it my art.
Copyright © Tirzah Conway | Year Posted 2011
Two roads diverged in a yellow
And I wondered if I really
Take the one more traveled by
Or let my mind sprout wings
I had a scheduled conference
And a ton of please reply to all
I need that project yesterday
Too much work no time to play
Long I stood and looked down
Carefully weighing what must
So long that I let the moment
Then took the safer well worn
Copyright © Joe Murphy | Year Posted 2014
You know what I hate about writer’s block,
How my creativity is hidden behind a lock;
Time ticks away as I stare at my screen,
My heart beating faster from the strain of caffeine;
The cursor flashing lulls me to doze,
Til a fly lands smack on the tip of my nose;
I swing at the fly and glance at the clock,
How did 10 AM turn into 5 O’clock;
I stand and I stretch and then walk away,
And say goodbye to another wasted day;
Maybe tomorrow will inspire my brain,
Or I could be slowly going insane…
Copyright © Tirzah Conway | Year Posted 2011
you squirm and you scream
a racing pulse with sweat pouring down, unconsciousness it seems
Type "A" or maybe type "B" to fill my need
with a captivating stare you will submit your soul and forever bleed
A vampire of the night
a blood sucker of a gloomy delight
test tube after test tube I will fill to the brim
all the while I hum a devious delectable hymn
Type "A" or maybe "B" to fill my need
for me, you will submit your soul and bleed
you squirm and you scream as the day fades to night
a blood sucker of a gloomy delight
You glance up with shallow breath and grab hold of my hand
drift away my innocent beauty, drift with dreams of the sand man
I am a certified Phlebotomist/Lab Tech. Asst. and thought I'd have a little fun with it. Thanks.
Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2010
I thought that this would be an interesting topic to write
As some thoughts about this year's awesome events came to light.
Recalling the year's events made me pause
Yet several "awesome" events gave me cause.
In thinking about one particular thing I would say
That finding Poetry Soup has made my day.
Not ever knowing how addictive it can be
To write my thoughts in words for others to see.
And then there are the friends I have found here
Who's poetry sometime will bring me a tear.
Oh, I laugh at some, cry with some, even get quizzical
But it only makes my fingers want to get physical.
My brain starts to ache as I work up a lather
Typing words into rhyme as fast as I can gather.
Yes, it is a gem of a site that I see
But the real gems are the others who write poetry.
Their words are more elegant than mine
And I often wonder how they come to them sometime.
When I read their work it is more than a cure
They express the thoughts which are ever so pure.
Like distilling fine cognac from its brandy base
The words that I read all fall into place.
So it makes me want to make my own work better
And to them I have become a debtor.
For the words I write come from inspiration
And some of the contests exact great consternation.
You see, I don't know an Iambic from a Pentameter
But, that's what makes me want to try harder.
So I write words in ways that I think are good
Hoping that my thoughts can be understood.
Many a comment passes the site each day
All, to me, are special when sent my way.
I appreciate the thoughts of others who will take the time
To read the words I have tried to rhyme.
So in looking for something happy that happened this year
This "Awesome" site makes me want to cheer.
Poetry Soup may not give you the zing,
But then, next to sex...it's the next best thing!
HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL !!
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010
Applying for teacher certification
I caused one technician much consternation
My fingerprints had simply not registered
Again and again the test he administered
“Guess you could have had a career in crime,”
He retorted reapplying ink grime
He said this had never happened before
But the results he surely couldn’t ignore
He sent me to an experienced tester
Who made many cracks, joked like a jester
He claimed my blank prints were quite unique
Turned over my hands just to take a peek
The delicate lines could scarcely be seen
And the fingers themselves were awfully lean
“What work do you do?” he asked with a scowl
As he removed the ink with a towel
“I now type 82 words per minute,
Most of my life I’ve been immersed in it"
My helpless fingers were worn to the bone
And my tester let out a mournful groan
Apparently pounding on my keyboard
Had produced an undesired reward
Faint thumbprints revealed no criminal record
And I won an overachiever award
Typing is essential to the work I do
Next time they need prints, I’ll remove my shoes
** True story for the Finger Frenzy contest
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010
Why Country suffers underdevelopment?
Why her public suffer unemployment?
Bad banking is the main reason
So milk comes not, but poison
Some bank men daily toil
They only preserve the soil
Many relax without any work
But, they get the best perk
Influential bank men develop
Playing politics to come up
They try and very finely spoil
By putting into water dirty oil
By giving a bad confidential report
They cunningly cut possible support
If a subordinate is very well-dressed
Surely he becomes by them cursed
If they see a robust young man
Against him they make a plan
More and more work they dump
Giving pressure to heart-pump
Do or die policy, they wrongly follow
A hard-working heart, they will blow
Country is not at all very strong
As Country's Banking is wrong.
SEARCH mvvenkataraman IN GOOGLE OR YAHOO
Copyright © mv venkataraman | Year Posted 2011
He’s tender and caring in his own way,
From moving cattle to bucking hay;
He’s stubborn but gentle and hard as nails,
As he deals with all that his job entails;
He may seem distant but he’s filled with pride;
From the cattle he tends to the horse that he rides;
He’s defender of the small and weak,
And protector of the sick and meek;
He keeps the code of the cowboy way,
Standing steadfast from day to day;
Watching over and protecting from harm,
All of the beings that reside on his farm;
He’s sometimes reserved and far-away,
And he never really has too much to say;
Laugh lines cover his weathered face,
Something even time can’t erase;
He is a cowboy, born and bred,
From the boots on his feet to the hat on his head.
Copyright © Tirzah Conway | Year Posted 2011
My daily work to pursue; all chores to be assigned
Organization is the key, thus concluding in a peace of mind.
The future I cannot foresee, however solid planning in my hands
My employees won’t be led astray, they faithfully obey my commands;
I am patient showing them the right way, hence the day starts with morning bright
Every job is taken by grace while their working hours filled with delight.
Knowing I’m satisfied by looking at my face. High standards and higher they rise,
Pleased I am and my solemn gratitude I pay, rewarding them with a bonus prize.
These faithful workers with me they stay; I am glad that faith made me judicious.
Copyright © Nehpets Gnik | Year Posted 2015
There's no any Achilles' heels
that Hippocrates always heals.
Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014