Best Buckle Down Poems


Premium Member We Can Dream On

It used to be that many dreamed.
At least that is the way it seemed.
But that was more than a few years ago now.
A good life in which we all starred;
a house with fence around the yard:
The dream which the hard-working man could strive for. . .

Chorus:
We can dream on; we can dream on.
We can dream on; we can dream on.


We only had to go to school,
Be sure to follow every rule,
like paying toward our own security plan
with special taxes all must pay.
They rise; we pay them anyway,
believing we’ll get by in our great gold years

Chorus:
We can dream on; we can dream on. . . 


In years when wars were being fought,
The dream, still strong, was being sought,
by Veterans returning to their loved ones.
Prosperity came after war,
for everyone kept wanting more,
so things improved, at least as I recall them. . . 

Chorus: We can dream on; we can dream on. . .

The kids who went to college would
then graduate and as they should,
could work in their profession, raise their families.
Eventually they’d have a house
and growing older with their spouse,
look forward to retirement, their home paid for. . . 

Chorus: We can dream on; we can dream on. . . 

Retirement funds in just one year
ran dry and CEO’s, I hear,
got bonuses while laying off their workers.
Young graduates cannot find work
and horrors round each corner lurk
for those who lose their jobs and source of income.

Chorus: We can dream on; we can dream on. . . 

Today we have to buckle down
and try hard not to show a frown
while searching for a job that pays less money
while politicians talk their talk
but don’t know how to walk the walk,
and sit there making sure they get their raises!

Chorus: We can dream on; we can dream on. . . 

The Congress just keeps playing dumb
And half the country has gone numb
while stressing over what’s in store for us now
because of lies that we were told,
like how we’d live when we got old.
“Dream on” I say (but not in Mama’s same tone).

Chorus: We can dream ON; We can dream ON. . . 


For the  HALLELUJAH Contest of Frank H.

Bound

BOUND

We’re bound from birth, our path too clear
Conformity reigns, we dare to veer
Play it straight and fall in place
Buckle down, you’ll win the race

Need for expression, no need for that
Everyone needs to wear the same hat
Wander off course or stray from path
You’re ostracized, beware the wrath

Creative types, you know the ones
Their unkempt hair and lack of funds
The artsy crowd without a care
Berets worn black, causeless flair

Yet abstract form and deviceful eye
Radiate light on gray streaked sky
Without free thought we play the fools
We must transcend archaic rules

Linear thinking it has its place
In modern times it makes a case
But if one dares to lose one’s face
I just might love this human race

Premium Member Pressure

It’s May 18th, 2022. I’m poised, alone, heart pounding, in front of my laptop, waiting for courage, my finger hovering over the return key, like a child hoping the timing of my keystroke will bring me luck.

I took this summer off - which drove my mom absolutely CrAzY. “You CAN’T!” she’d said last month, only to be overruled by my Grandmère. Now I’m home for summer break and tonight she’s flush with exasperation. 

“You should have applied for a dean’s fellowship,” she said, her voice rising as she rubs her hands together, as if scrubbing for an operating room procedure, “and a summer research position!” She’s practically twirling with suppressed emotion.

I get why she’s upset. She only goes “deep end” when she's worried about my future. She knows what’s needed to get a medical school slot in 2025 like other moms know their favorite recipe - after all, she’s done this twice before. 

Leong’s upstairs, avoiding this family scene. When I described my family expectations as “hustle culture,” to my roommates, they all understood - we’re that much alike.

Step (my stepfather) is trying to de-escalate and calm us (her) down. “Look,” he says, holding up his hands like someone talking down a gunman, “NEXT summer she’ll buckle down, get in more volunteer hours and get a dean’s research fellowship” he says, sliding his eyes to me. I nod “ok” almost imperceptibly. “It’s ok to start grinding sophomore year - that’s what I did.” 

OOOO! She turned to him and if looks could kill, he would have exploded like someone in a Tarantino movie. 

By some psychic grace my Grandmère chose that moment to call. Step and I fled the den like it were on fire, going our separate ways to halve the chance of being followed.

In my dark room, lit only by the light of my MacBook, a quiver runs through me, and I finally press return. My grades for Spring semester - and Freshman year come up. My eyes water and I relax back against my chair when I see “Dean's List.” 

I smile to myself, and slowly, fiercely I clench my fist with a “YESS!" As I postulate my victorious reprieve.


Goodbye

We're headin' out
Our bags are packed
The dream is over and
The boxes are stacked
But I can't...forget...this place
I don't know how
How to let it go
I can't find a way
I can't go with the flow
All I know...is that I love...this place

The faces pass and memories fade
My whole life...turns to shade
All I know...is that I'll miss...this place

No more fun
Gotta buckle down
No more games
Gotta drop this crown
I hope I don't...forget...this place
Days in the sun and
Nights by the fire
I'll miss those times
With a burnin' desire
I'm gonna...miss...this place

The faces pass and memories fade
My whole life...turns to shade
All I know...is that I'll miss...this place

We're headin' out
Our bags are packed
The dream is over and
The boxes are stacked
But I can't...forget...this place
I don't know how
How to let it go
I can't find a way
I can't go with the flow
All I know...is that I love...this place

The faces pass and memories fade
My whole life...turns to shade
All I know...is that I'll miss...this place
Goodbye...

The Hunger Games-Poem

Enter the arena
Buckle down


Ready?
Set?
Kill!

A gong sounds
We're off

The Hunger Games have begun!

Blades of swords and knives crash
Arrows whizzing.

Run. run, run
Away from the cornacopia!

Blood splatters, staining the earth
Bodies splayed on the ground

Some survive
Others die right off hand

Only one left to be the VICTOR!
Welcome to The Hunger Games!!!!

This is based on a very good book called The Hunger Games (well good in my 
opinion). This future distopian science-fiction novel is about future North America. 
The Capitol is a very dictator-like establishment and starve their citizens then throw 
them into the hunger games, a fight to the death on live television.

Wedding Anniversary

dressed
in
chiffon
hair a bun
with couple loose strands
solitaire around her slim neck
for Anniversary dinner at their seafood place
lost in a concoction of his adoring gaze, music, Merlot and blackened salmon 

knock
on 
the door
she answers
her knees buckle down
mascara runs down in rivers
dressed in black, holding lilies, head hung low—there stands  mom
darling,lets visit his grave before dark—mom says to flooded eyes in an ashen face


Written on:07/21/2016
Contest:'Two Stanzas-Two Only' by Broken Wings


Premium Member Hurricanes

Hurricane by any name is a dreaded beast
Monster winds guide every turn and twist

Clouds cluster in enormous darker shapes
Heated moisture dominates form they take 

Dressed in cloudy eye-wall winds rotate
High gusting speeds foretell its arrival date

As eye of the storm approaches a landfall
Communities begin making evacuation calls 

Stocking food and water families buckle down
Gas lines form as people begin to leave town

Death and destruction mount as storm lands
Streets and homes quickly become wetlands

Emergency shelters crowd beyond capacity
FEMA takes charge with speed and tenacity

Congress passes legislation to grant funding
Affected folks are unsure of their standing

Trash piles up burying childhood memories
Cleanup begins without hope of recoveries

Donations flow to charities like Red Cross
Insurance may recoup some of storm loss

They arrive sequentially in alphabet names
Leaving untold shattered lives in their wake 

Placed 1st
September 9, 2017
Hurricanes
Sponsor: Julie Rodeheaver

Tornado

Clouds of darkness, roar of fear - 
Would we be able to stand its might? 
Let's prepare. It's coming near. 

What happened to the sky so clear? 
Gone away is our precious light, 
Clouds of darkness, roar of fear - 

What will we do when it gets here? 
Stack the pillows while our lights are bright. 
Let's prepare. It's coming near. 

Rolling clouds, hail and wind so sheer, 
Trees bend, as this rage they fight. 
Clouds of darkness, roar of fear - 

History said that this would be the year, 
So buckle down and hold on tight. 
Let's prepare. It's coming near. 

The enveloping rush deafens our ears; 
Funnel smashes to the ground, I shake in fright. 
Clouds of darkness, roar of fear - 
Let's prepare. It's coming near.
© Skye Tandy  Create an image from this poem.

Idle Thoughts

Its amazing how weeks fly by
When your doing nothing worth while
and all there is to do is sit around and think
Yet it seems like I am forever stuck on the brink
Of a epiphany? Or maybe its madness
My youth is fleeting its time I buckle down
But I never wanted to be a dog
to those who wear crowns
I wish life was simple to where I could
Realize my talents buy spinning a wheel and
find out all I need to do at the press of a button.

College Bound(The Education Game)

Next week I am college bound
 An education is what I seek
Further knowledge to be found
 In my quest I will not be meek.

School days for me has long since passed
 For out of school I became a mother
On my list education became last
 For me the choice was none other.

These are not the days of yesteryear
 No having fun and going to school dances
For failure is what I fear
 So no time for silly romances.

Time to study hard and long
 College professors will take no excuse
For homework being late or how an answer is wrong
It will still be my neck in the noose.

This time around there is no marching band practice
 All my spare time devoted to study
I may seem prickly  like a cactus
 But no time for me to be a buddy.

Time to buckle down and move ahead
 No longer with my high school sweetheart
No more dragging feet full of lead
 Time to give my life a brand new start.

No more jobs...I desire a career
 My heart beats double time
But please do not jeer
 School at my age is not a crime.

Bring on English and Math
 Sorry my dear dear friends
I am following a new path
 Time lost with them... will later make amends.

Time for the thinking cap
 No worries of being a fool
Even though there is a huge time gap
 Since the days of high school.

Knowledge is power
 Education is key
No need to be dour
 Law is the field for me.



For John Loving III Education game...Nara Shevanna you are next dear

A Gifted Niece

What pride and joy for me to delight,
albeit vicariously upon receiving invite,
sans commencement at
Redmond Proficiency Academy
on May twenty second at six o'clock at night,
which arrangement to Maurice silly revel 

from afar, viz pomp and circumstances quite
emotional, ah...I can feel exuberance
listening to Sir Edward
Elgar - Pomp and Circumstance
March Number 1 - right
amidst envisioned glorious sight,

this prodigal beloved
young lady Marleigh Dunning, aye write
a precious prized progeny,
with modesty all agleam
no doubt with beauty, she twill beam
dazzling full house, electrifying audience

asper her due smarts, i.e. creme de la creme
top honors, and accolades galore
relishing hearty applause, and teary eyes
left for this estranged bro attempting to dream,
how proud such progressive parents
Andy (by the way belated happy birthday),

and Shari dear sister my apology, harried self esteem
(mine), who nonetheless takes stock,
how promising success story doth appear
will take said niece far and wide,
which whiz kid will quick buckle down and clear
as pitch perfect cerulean sky will engineer

experiential opportunities, whose cerebral gear
far and above this average hear
suit uncle late in his existence
admires brilliant storied
future awaiting thee
acquiring an equitable salary

persevering toward passion,
vis a vis art history
with a minor in chemistry,
abundant wit and wisdom
so blessed born free

to choose bajillion options
soon to matriculate at Ivy
League school, perhaps
becoming rich and famous
as hordes of paparazzi
furiously jostle and elbow 

to savor opportunity
as demure, genteel, as ideal
exemplar of female human poise -
ladies and gentlemen the renown Marleigh,
whose shining moment under klieg lights,

this financially strapped poet
unable to rejoice in person, qua special day
duet to a pinched finances
arising when Hyundai Sonata,
thrice necessitated monetary outlay!

Buckle Down

To whom does he smile at
With a tip-top approbation of doggedness
Neglecting the pleasure of the period?

To whom does he cheer
With a reverberating extant sound?
Nobody but he who buckles down

Honest

Honest
Be honest with your feelings
They should not be neglected
If you deny truth to yourself
Won’t your spirit be affected?
Be real, do not put up a front
Pride should not be a factor
Neither should shame, not even fear
Let virtue be your inspector
Find out what’s keeping you awake
Confront that what is haunting
Intimidation gains more strength
When things are viewed as daunting
Find strength within, don’t buckle down
The war is in your head
Why listen to what tears you down?
Think positive instead!
The things that make us strong and bold
Should be self-cultivated
Why do you still allow yourself
To be underestimated?
Be kind, be patient, show more love
To the person that you are
A little understanding
Will get you very far
Be honest therefore, to yourself
Not just to everyone else
Don’t listen to your inner self
When only lies it tells
The way you feel, the way you think
The things you say and do
View them as recognition of
The person that is you.
Wendy Nipas

The Hunger Games

Enter the Arena

Buckle down

 

Ready?

Set?

KILL!

 

A gong sounds

We're off

 

The Hunger Games have begun!

 

Blades of swords crashing

Arrows whizzing

 

Run,run,run

Away from the cornacopia

 

Blood splatters,staining the earth

Bodies splayed on the ground

 

Some survive

Other die right off hand

 

Only ONE left to be the victor

Welcome to the Hunger Games...

 

MAY THE ODDS BE EVER IN YOUR FAVOR!!!!

Money's Up

If you want the big check,
Got to be willing to put in the work.
Lift those weights strive to be great,
All you need is apply a little faith.

Keep pushing around the clock,
Without taking numerous days off.
Organize, plan and then attack,
Go and do it without looking back.

Hard work always pays off,
Like when the mortgage is paid off.
The feeling of freedom never leaves;
Unlike leaves that fall off the trees.

It takes money to make money,
No matter your point of view.
Buckle down and stay focused,
That’s all you really need to do.

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