Lyric Work Poems

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Details | Lyric |
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 |
Sung to the melody of when I’m 64 by The Beatles Gotta keep working an extra few years (Not like years ago) Governments are screwing us for every dime I can’t afford a bottle of wine Hip's been replaced Yes I’m getting old I’m too old to twerk But I’m so needy and my pension won’t feed me But I’m ninety four! Written after being inspired by ‘Stupid People’ poem by SillyBilly theKidster https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/stupid_people_900910 05~16~17 Now That I'm 64 by SillyBilly the Kidster I gotta keep working an extra few years, not like years before. Government is screwing me for every dime, I can’t afford a bottle of wine. Hip's been replaced, yes I’m getting old. I Can't Work Any More, but I'm still needy, social security won't feed me, now that I'm 64. 05~17~17

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017

Details | Lyric |
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 | Lyric |
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 | Lyric |
May life bless you with real freedom, 
Keep enjoyment as your place, 
May you find your own confidence, 
From your education and your space;
May you entertain discernment,
Whilst fulfilling your desires,
And may platitude be rescinded, 
By real love in your eyes.

May life be all it can be, 
May your realities come from your dreams, 
May your work become your eulogy, 
And may your identity give your memes. 

May you receive more than you give, 
And see reason when there's none,
May your friends light your inside,   
May you give hope to those with one;
May you save the exploited from oppression,
By making despair to you most personal,
And may equality be the standard,
For your repudiation of its dismissal.

May life be all it can be, 
May your realities come from your dreams, 
May your work become your eulogy, 
And may your identity give your memes. 

May you always uphold justice, 
Even in dark and uncertain times,
When faced with honest requests, 
And its unsettled times sometimes; 
May you do what’s right no problem, 
Not questioning the strain, 
Nor grumbling about the consequences, 
Of morality’s devoted love train. 

May life be all it can be, 
May your realities come from your dreams, 
May your work become your eulogy, 
And may your identity give your memes. 

May your diamond be stalwart honour,
For war heroes old and injured,
Tormented by battlefields and sights,
Of the mangled and beleaguered; 
May you testify to fact and truth, 
And publish what you know;
And may reason be your sociology, 
To dictatorial governments overthrow. 

May life be all.... 

May you respect others in esteem, 
For kindness and achievement,
May you follow those you understand, 
As beautiful in accomplishment;
May you undertake endeavours, 
Which ramify the other unstudied, 
By embracing love and laughter, 
As whispers of grace embodied. 

May life be all... 

May you always say what’s inside,
Whilst giving other people a chance,
Trusting them with your memories, 
That history upon which you cannot glance; 
May you always speak your mind, 
To make rationality your guide, 
And in dignity confide and correct, 
To let the delinquent within you abide. 

May life be all... 

May your philosophies be trophied,
As a garland by the lonely,
And may your way be warmly accepted, 
Without negotiation or apology;
May righteousness be your hallmark,
And caring thought your attribution, 
And may you prevail generally as a good person, 
Bringing light where there’s intrusion. 

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric |
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 | Lyric |
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 | Lyric |
Back to school
Not gonna mess around, act like a fool
Can't hit rewind 
Can't turn back time
So. Lets go

Start the first day on the right foot
Stop talking about XBOX and hit the books
There's no way I'm gonna fail
Man, that F turns me pail
Aiming for that A
Might not be there now,
but gonna get it the next day 

Detention
When was that mentioned?
Can I do my work there?
I aint falling behind this year

Mock week!
Time to prove that I've
been revising like a freak
Hit that pen with paper
Not a second later
There's no maybe or might
Worked for that A day and night

Results day!
Wonder what that
envelop is gonna say

AABA
Main course down
Time for desert 
If I see an F, thats gonna hurt

ICT and RE
The only grades I see
is those A's I deserve

History and Geography
Wonder what it's gonna be
AB or BA
LOOK! AA

Now I'm fully charged
and ready to go

Whats Product Design gonna show?
A*
Looks like I've jumped over the bar
Forget the sky being the limit
I'm on the moon
Now I can tackle the world with a BOOM!

For those who worked for it

Copyright © Mohammed Azim | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric |
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 |
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 | Lyric |
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 | Lyric |
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 |
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 |
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 |
You say it’s hella dope to meet me
And all I have to say
It’s hella dope to meet you too
And you’re getting hella dope today

No, this won’t be memorable
Of this you can be sure
If your disease is reality
Then I’ve got the cure

'Cause I’m the Candyman, the Candyman
The most educated bartender in all of this land
The Candyman, the Candyman
Knocking you out with a wave of my hand

It’s all about context, 
That’s my feeling
It’s all about context, 
And my context is healing

It’s all about context
And if it isn’t 
All about context
I’ll be in prison

‘Cause I’m the Candyman, the Candyman
getting your kids just as blotto as I can
the Candyman, the Candyman
Packin’ the highest grade dope in all the land

Yes, ma’am, I’m sure 
That gas smells bad
But you know, ma’am, 
It’ll make him glad

Yes ma’am I hear
That syrup tastes bad
But if I knew that for sure
I’d be an unemployed dad

Cause I’m the Candyman, the Candyman
Gassing your kids just as fast as I can
The Candyman, the Candyman
And if I weren’t a doc I’d be living in a windowless van…

6/1/16
© By Author
For Contest: That Colorful Drug
Sponsor: Lewis Raynes

Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Lyric |
Christmas...

It's just another day
Another day for me

I won't get any presents
I won't sit beside a lighted tree

It's just another day
Another day to try and survive


Another day to try and find food to eat
Another day to try and stay alive

It always seems to be just another day
Another day to try and do my best

Another day to hug my children
Another day to pray to God to help me rest


Christmas is just another day...
Just as previous years have come before

Another day to sit and wonder
Where I'll be, when I don't have a house anymore

It's just another day to think about
Where and when things went all wrong

To wonder if all of our elected politicians
Care to see what is really going on

I am just an average American
who has always been just fine

But without a job to go too
I've fallen below the poverty line


I don't want to be here
I don't want to lose everything I own

I want to be able to afford the Internet
I want to be able to have a phone

I want to be able to have a car to drive
I want to able to go to work

I want my children to be safe and warm
I want to have some money in my purse

I am sick and tired of all of my days
Being unproductive and the same

I am sick of sleeping hungry and cold
I am sick of not knowing where I am going to stay

I am sick of my life being on hold
I don't want to have to live this way

So Christmas is just another day...
Another day for me to see

All the things that I am missing
Another year my children won't have a tree

But another day to love my children
The bright spots in my life

Another day to go to church and pray
for those who are living just like me
Those who are still living
Daily with my strife.

 
(December 23,  2010 Wausau, Wisconsin) 

(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved,

Copyright © christine a kysely | Year Posted 2010

Details | Lyric |
Dedicated to my teacher, who has helped me more than she'll ever 
know

When the world denies your hard work 
Refusing your wisdom in years,
Please, just remember what I’m saying,
Please don’t cry any tears. 
People will try to bring you down
No matter what you do
But know this, these words I say,
‘Cause you and I know they are true.
Your hard work has helped me this year
I wouldn’t be who I am without you
This life I live right here and now
Is possible because of what you do.
You encourage my hopes and all my dreams
And help me reach my goal
I wouldn’t be me without you
These seeds, I wouldn’t be able to sow.
You have helped me learn how to write
In fact, you taught me yourself
Whether you’ve realized it or not, 
You’ve helped me become myself.
I can’t imagine eighth grade without you
It’s been a wonderful year
I can’t believe I’m now saying good-bye
And beginning to hold back tears.
I know how you try to be perfect
At least  some of the time,
You like to do everything you can
To help me find a rhythm or a rhyme.
And life isn’t always perfect
In fact, it rarely is
It’s often so sudden and indistinct
It feels like a giant pop quiz.
But no matter where life takes you,
No matter how bad you may want to cry,
Remember these words that I’ve said to you
And know that you’re beautiful in my eyes.

Copyright © Kristen Wilson | Year Posted 2007

Details | Lyric |
"Curly Sue" is pretty simple,
Romcom of nineteen ninty one.
Strangely recognized an impel 
To rhyme her out to make her mine.

For those born in twenty something
Curly Sue does not ring a bell.
Said "You're curly Sue, sweet dumpling!"
To my niece. "Who's that?", she compeled.

As a child, when I was little.
Curly modelled as "super cute".
Decades past, she's just a tittle
In films ocean, that is brute.

Wonder why I still remember
Curly Sue? It's just silly, no?
For some reason have this ember
For Sue and want my niece to know.

Copyright © Agatha Jetaime | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric |


There’s so much to do in so little time
Only just begun to start to realise
 It might even be a little too late
May have already sealed my own fate



Coming home after a hard day’s work
Not even time to change my dirty ole shirt
Sat down for dinner kids running around
Watching my program fell asleep somehow



Time for a bath and a quick one at that
Feeling so tired will you wash my back
 I can’t do that getting kids off to bed
You know I’ve got a busy day planed ahead



There’s so much to do in so little time
Only just begun to start to realise
 It might even be a little too late
May have already sealed my own fate



Damn it tomorrow I must fix that car
Been playing up won’t get us very far 
Due to go on holiday at end of this week
Not even packed not even ready



There’s so much to do in so little time
Only just begun to start to realise
 It might even be a little too late
May have already sealed my own fate



Must try to learn to take it in my stride
Been rushing around and I feel so tired
Can’t even get to my work place on time
The traffic so heavy makes me so wild



There’s so much to do in so little time
Only just begun to start to realise
 It might even be a little too late
May have already sealed my own fate




© Copyright KC.Leake
4th June 2015
All Rights Reserved




Copyright © kevin leake | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric |
Look into the eyes of the suffering 
For a moment open your soul to 
The riches of you covetous love
Keep you blind from the future
And the loss of your vitality

Be wary of the truths 
Unknown to those who create the illusion of comfort
For no man can understand fulfill love
At the sacrifice of another being 

Copyright © Sara Vecchi | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric |
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 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 | Lyric |
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 |
I'm a dream chaser chasing 
After my dreams for the risen King. 

I'm running after my dreams,
At full speed like a water stream. 
Not backing down from another fight
In fact I'm getting ready to take flight.
My bags are packed and on board,
I'm ready to soar with Captain Jesus at the core.
 
I'm dreaming big and running full of power like a cell tower.
I'm dedicated and standing in faith,
That God's vision for my life,
Will be displayed by him in every way. 

I'm called to be great call me "Nate the Great" 
And I know I make a lot of mistakes and that's okay.
I know I will overcome,
Defeat every obstacle that comes towards me. 
I'm determined to be the best me that I'm called to be, 
God's got the victory and he lives inside of me.
 
Ready, set, go 
I'm coming to face my fears and run my race.
Brace yourself I'm breaking down the Great Wall 
And watching the bricks vibrate and shake,
Like an earthquake as they fall like the New Year's ball. 

I'm a dream chaser chasing 
After my dreams for the risen King. 

It's time for me to break free
And live my dream at the count of three.
I'm relentlessly spreading your empire,
Like a wildfire.
Breaking down my barriers 
Like the walls of Jericho. 


Not waiting around the battlefield in fear anymore. 
Where are all my Soldiers? Suiting up for combat? 
I'm not just a conqueror,
I'm also a mighty warrior;
I refuse to lose sight of my victory.

After the fight I'm part of a team that's got my back,
Through every crack on the track. 
Over the hills, and through the valleys, 
Even in the most crowded alleys; 
God's angels are by my side 
Flying high in the sky.

I'm living from within 
A new day is getting ready to begin.
I'm taking my place next to the King.
Unashamed to proclaim 
That I'm living for the one who forever reigns.

I'm free forever in the savior's name
And my life will never be the same. 
I've received a revelation 
And no matter the situation,
I'm going after the dream 
That will change a generation.
I won't stop until I reach the entire nation. 

I'm a dream chaser chasing 
After my dreams for the risen King. 

No matter the situation,
I'm going after the dream 
That will change a generation.
I won't stop until I reach the entire nation. 

I'm a dream chaser chasing 
After my dreams for the risen King. 


Copyright © Rich Rogers | Year Posted 2016

Details | Lyric |
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 |
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

Details | Lyric |
Creative side suddenly began to flourish
With mom's home interioir design.
Now I foster it, fully embrace and nourish.
Goals with my actions are to be aligned.

Vivid colors, textures, shapes, patterns, and sly styles
I could have spent hours choosing window blinds.
Visit furnuture stores in radius of miles.
Came unnoticed in myself. Was I blind?

I am not prone to impulsive decisions
Today fell in love with furtinute piece.
I have a dream house and in which I envision
It. My unborn child would play with my niece.

House is not big but pragmatic yet elegant.
Three bedrooms, dining room, a vestibule. 
My daughter rattles a lot, whistles, sometimes chants
Songs yet it is never a ridicule.

I am hoping my vision is not a kitsch.
On Sundays we don't visit nearby church.
I'm hoping to discover my magic mood switch.
Next to the house there's a forest of birch.

Another side of myself is somewhat nerdy.
Software, data structures, algorithms.
Plus one's ground underneath has got to be sturdy
Yet I dream of theater, rhythms and myths.

My muse was not with me when I was a student
When I possessed all the time in the world. 
Now I work, I am an adult, so prudent.
Wish my creativity could be sold.

I like extreme comparison, enjoy grotesque.
Use them in emerging poem fables.
It's burlesque: I sit the day thrgouh at my work desk
Struggling to make sense of Excel tables.

I simply adore tight six syllable stanza
Through it's harder to bring the point across.
But it is compact and mere extravaganza! 
It's mine therefore I have to bear this cross...

Copyright © Agatha Jetaime | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric |
These things offend, know I, tis true. In these I've been schooled, now I tell them to you. An innocent touch, a wayward look, a word or threat aimed anothers way. Is today considered harassment, and that party has final say. Were not to needle, mock, or jab, to razz, or quip, gibe,or jeer. To scorn, roast or ridicule, and whatever you do don't leer. It's best that we not banter words, deride,intimidate, or taunt. Should you be one inclined to joke, these too, you must not flaunt. We must not rile another, even though it be in jest. Sneering too, is not allowed, so put those thoughts to rest. Anothers traits never mock, nor offend with apparel you doff. Find not within, reason to knock, while daring not to scoff. Belittling another isn't right not take occasion to tease. But other than these few things treat others as you please. In meeting, should I not extend a hand, and appear to have little to say, It won't be because I'm snobbish, but fear a Tort Lawyer coming my way.

Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2008

Details | Lyric |
BÀTÀRE ÁÁDÚN KOKOOKÀ

Be slothful, you’ll end up with mean men.
Be diligent, you’ll rule over your kinsmen.
If all you invest your time is sleep,
Poverty is all you’ll reap.
But if you work very hard,
Men will cherish your fruitful yard.

Instead of chasing current effizy
You can be another positive celebrity
With your vigor, combat life storms
To you ovation and applauds will be norms
Everywhere you traverse on world’s arena,
Bàtàre áádún kokookà

The last line is a Yoruba (one of Nigerian tribes) idioms which means “If you study well, 
your shoes will sound ko ko ka” (onomatopoeia for shoes heels hitting a stony ground). 
This implies that hard work pays. 

Copyright © Ajayi Angel-Simon | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |
The work I do is not the most prestigious one,
from four to twelve thirty I drive...until my shift is done;
a forklift driver rarely takes a coffee-break, 
and being courteous and helpful to customers means a lot.


My long-life dream was to be a songwriter like Andrew Lloyd Webber, but my songs
didn't click...they never made the Top Ten on the Billboard Charts;
and although they didn't sell well to make it my profession, I still hold my thumb up...
that if a famous recording artist performed them, I'd have a huge hit!


My free time is devoted to creating lyrics that I will set to music in late hours;
and I would never be a Mozart, Verdi, or Beethoven if didn't knock on doors
and expose my works to those who would be willing to listen without reluctance...
could one be old and succeed as the young ones with fresher, brighter ideas?


For now, I remain the same blue collar guy coloring more illusive dreams;
many approach me and say," Don't give up...you have plenty of chances!".
I do want to believe that and wear the deserved crown and be lauded as others...  
'till my lucky day comes, I must make a living and have the faith of the achievers.

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010