Best Call It A Day Poems | Poetry

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The Best Call It A Day Poems

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Giving up

Be honest
this isn't going anywhere
you've tried
I've tried
we've given it everything we've got.

If we had the answer
at our fingertips
I'm sure you would agree
things would be so different.

but no

we just keep going 
round and round
our frustration turns
to bitterness.

Stop now

Let's call it a day
I think that would be best
if we both admitted
that we'll never find the start
on this roll of sticky tape.

Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2015

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I Have A Raccoon Dream

I dream that tonight I am a raccoon
And it is here in this body that I store the notion
That my sadness will last forever,
In the treasury of unclaimed awareness,
Where pits of the peaches could never re-sprout...
I dig deep into the indent of a Denver ravine,
Gnaw knee-high into the hollow ridges of hominids and their homelands,
Belly-wade in bottomless mud waters west of wherever they don’t go, though
Lurid in my languor now, I laminate my slick turf onto Continental limestone slabs
And, then, all-at-once, at noon, just like that,
I call it a day.
A tired little raccoon
Can’t bear without a rest 
Through the midday...
I arise as the coon falls under.
Reclaiming Human Sorrow, my Wrong-Headed Brother,
Waxing thunderously, now, in the mind’s cluttered cage
In this day of coffee and chit-chat and left-turns,
I’ll dream tonight I am a raccoon.
So that we may both get out and roam.

Copyright © Matt Caliri | Year Posted 2010

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At the End of the Road

At the End of the Road
Stop begging me to stay! Don’t act like you don’t know, our journey ends right here - my answer is still “NO!”
Once you were my pleasure, but now you’re my poison. Your type of love is toxic; so that’s my real reason.
I’m tired of these rocky roads, and done with the games you play. I’m dizzy from your ups and downs; it’s time we call it a day!
Let’s make this nice and easy- I don’t want you to cry. Let’s have no handshake, no hug, nor a last kiss good-bye.
Stop begging me to stay! Surely by now you should know, we reached the end of our road… as love left us long ago!
01-06-2017 Contest: Poet's Choice - The End of the Road - Just Friends Sponsor: Silent One Placment: 6th

Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2017

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If it's to be, it's up to me

If it’s to be, it’s up to me, determination fuel with faith
A strong desire. Not just the thoughts of good intentions alone,
Put actions in place, and follow through to the end.

Think not of the impossible until you’ve tried,
What’s the worst that can happen anyway?
When you’re trust is in God, and situations in disarray.
In ordinary circumstances one would have quit and call it a day. 

Nothing comes easy; life isn’t a bed of roses, the truth everyone should hear
I believe in miracles, and dreams can come true. Not only a matter of the heart
But a strong desire to achieve, and be committed to the end.

If it’s to be it’s up to me SMART is a good place to start.
S -  pecific
M- easurable
A – ttainable
R – ealistic
T-  imely
Smart is the word a road map our guide, a good place to begin
But we all must do our part.

Copyright © Abraham L | Year Posted 2009

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A month before Christmas,
and all through the store
Shoppers were hunting
for bargains galore.

Goodwill was missing or
in short supply
The mood of the moment
was: Buy! Buy! Buy!

Pushing and shoving,
some violence, too
Poor Santa was left at
the back of the queue.

'I can't comprehend,' he
said to his elves.
'Look over there, they've
emptied the shelves.

'My sacks will be unfilled,
my mission in vain,
'This hustle and bustle is
really insane.

'What is the reason for
all this commotion?'
The chief elf replied: 'It's
a national promotion.

'All the goods they can't
shift, for whatever reason
'Are put out on sale this
time of the season.

'They've named it Black
Friday, it appeals to the
'Those punters who can't
wait to spend all their

Santa gave up, said: 'Let's
call it a day, 
'Go back to the North Pole
and check on eBay.'


Copyright © Darryl Ashton | Year Posted 2015

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Its not always about you

      Its never cease to amaze me how people are so caught up in themselves and

never once consider that its not always about them.  There are so many other matters

at hand to be considered, but to them it really doesn't exist.  That's until you do something

that's out of the ordinary just to get their attention and to allow them to see how selfish

they really are.

       I did that two days ago to someone whom I rreally love and admire as a human being.

Its been today's since I last turned my cell phone own consistantly.  I am contemplating how

long before they realize its not always about them and that they will see how they have

literally step all over my intent and genuine concern for them?

What I find astonishing is the fact they are exhausting all forms and kinds of rationale to 

try and ascertain why I haven't called or text them.

Its rreally kind of sad to see such a person I held high esteem for to be so selfish cruel and

unaware of how much I don't need them in my life and how much they do need me in their

life.   Its not always about this!  Its not always about that!  Its truly about how you 

contribute to life around you in order that those same contributions return to you before

you call it a day and you lay down to sleep in hopes of arising to the dawn of a new day...

Copyright © elijah prophet | Year Posted 2012

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Letting Go

How do you know when it's time to let go?
Should you call it a day, with nothing to show?
The love that you felt is still burning within.
Its flame flickers brightly, not wanting to end.

When only one heart is feeling that glow
You know that in time the other will go...
For no matter how much or how deeply you care,
You can't force a heart to stay with you there.

There…in that place where a fairy tale dwells,
Where fairy godmothers still cast lovers' spells,
Once upon a time two hearts were as one
And the love deep inside shone as bright as the sun.

But as time passes by, it seems some things change,
What once seemed so beautiful now seems so strange!
One moment you look in his eyes and you see,
Happily ever after is not meant to be.

What is it that makes only one heart feel love?
You look for the answer from God up above.
You hope against hope that an answer you'll hear,
But no answer is coming, just sadness and fear.

A part of you already knows it's the end,
But your heart and your mind just don't comprehend
How something so wonderful just fades away,
Like the colors of sunset in each passing day.

The dawn of each day brought a smile to my face,
By waking each morn to my lover's embrace.
Our two hearts once hoped that true love had begun,
But what good is love that is just felt by one?

Would I want him to stay with me, though in the end
He'd never be happy, you can't just pretend
To love someone when the feeling's not there.
So the answer is NO; and you try to prepare

For what you now know is going to be…
Sooner or later you must set him free.
You try to hold on to the love that you knew
But it slips through your fingers, so what can you do?

They say there are some things just not meant to be,
And in time we will know what our hearts couldn't see.
You beg, you plead, you curse, then… you cry.
But the only real answer is always GOODBYE. 

Copyright © Cathy Martin | Year Posted 2011

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Work Sucks

Well, I woke up this morning
For my own prime time,
Hoping swarming senses
Might light into rhyme,
With caffeine and nicotine
My morning jump start
I was searching for the union
Of my head and my heart.
But time won't linger
For a groggy old muse.
I had to get ready for my daily abuse.
  Work sucks!  Work sucks!
  You sell your  soul 
  For a couple of bucks.
  In the place where they call me
  A human resource
  I'm nothing but another
  Common work horse.

So I left my apartment
With a somber sigh.
The beergnats were kissing
All my empties goodbye. 
I put on my mandatory
Worker's disguise
And abandoned my oasis
For the fluorescent skies.
I greeted my boss,
But what I wanted to say.
Was "Beat me with a hammer
And we'll call it a day."
  Work sucks!  Work sucks!
  You sell your soul
  For a couple of bucks.
  If I didn't have habits
  Such as hunger and thirst,
  I wouldn't lift a finger
  But the one by the first. 

Up from rags to riches
By your own bootstrap
Only works for the folks
Who are the cream of the crap.
So, you self made  believers
Of your own ballyhoo
Would you please refrain from telling me
I ought to be you.
I don't need money
Just to prove who I am;
And the prizes you would die for--
Well they ain't worth a damn.
  Work sucks!  Work sucks 
  You sell your soul 
  For a couple of bucks.
  If my back can still hold up
  While  my boss gains success
  I can still be rewarded
  With a heart attack from stress. 

We fought a great battle,
So our fearless leaders said,
To stop fascism
Before it could spread.
We fought another battle
Over equality--
Which never quite trickles
Down to you or me.
We fought our first battle 
Over royalty's reign;
But everything we fought against
We fought to retain.
  Work sucks! Work sucks!
  You sell your soul 
  For a couple of bucks.
  Now the fascists run our businesses
  For royalty's gain;
  And they call me a commie
  If I dare to complain.

Now Paul, when interpreted
To sound like a jerk,
Said we shouldn't eat
If we didn't work;
But if Paul were present
In our present day,
He might change his opinion,
Seeing greed out  for prey.
He might just remember 
How  work was a curse;
And I could finish my poem 
Just ahead of the hearse. 
  Work sucks!  Work sucks.
  You trade your soul
  For a couple of bucks.
  If I make it up to heaven
  And find Adam up there.
  I'll hang him by his balls
  And seek eternity elsewhere.

Copyright © Jerrell Jones | Year Posted 2015

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Big, Big Bird

I saw a big bird today at a local zoo.
Its habitat is akin to that of a kangaroo.

It was glaring at all as if to say,
"Okay!  I saw all, now go away!"

Its digits can agonizingly kick,
As if hit by a ton of brick!

It is not a darling bird at all,
And I cannot stand its blaring call!

I know nothing of its ornithological stock.
I do know it's too big to fry in an Asian wok!

I was at a loss as I stood stroking jaw.
Was it an ostrich or a cassowary that I saw?

I can't think of anything worthy for that bird to say,
So I shall lay down ballpoint and call it a day!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)

First Place In Nikko Palmario's "Without U & ME" Contest' - July 2010
PS:   This was a contest where the use of the letters E, M & U was prohibited.
        The bird I spoke of was the EMU!

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2010

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Your Mom After a Rough Night

I'm in the diner uptown, sitting around, b.s. ing with Teddy. Don't just stand there and say nothing to me, I got a hangover like you wouldn't believe. Pour me, poor me 5/8 of a cup of coffee. It's tooth hurty in the afternoon and I'm in a cocoon. Pour me, poor me 5/8 of a cup of coffee. Bonnie and Clyde are at the gas station getting busted and I'm sitting here trying to get adjusted. Poor me, pour me 5/8 of a cup of coffee and I'll call it a day.

Copyright © Jeralyn Tolliver | Year Posted 2015

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Dinner for Two

OK another adventure in the mad poet’s life,
This occurred just before I met Jane, my imaginary wife.
Jane’s brother, Glen had set me up with a blind date
He said the girl was a stunner, I could not wait

So dressed in me stripe trouser with me chequer tank top vest
I oiled me baldhead and let the old spice do the rest
Off I went down town to meet Deglet Noor (that was her name)
Glen said, “If you see her lips you’ll want to kiss them more and more.”

Then I saw her, and dam what a blind date
She was lumpy like custard with an all eye seeing Rottweiler that made me fearfully 
She looked like a bulldog chewing on a bee
And the Rotter was eyeing me leg as if it wanted to hump me
I thought to myself, give the girl a  meal
Then we call it a day and that was the deal

She chose this uptown place where rich people dined
A  French restaurant with snails and frogs legs, you know the funny kind
I had a steak, she had prawns and a lobster too
And she persuaded me by force to drink champagne form her trainer shoe
When she ate poor lobster it was a terrible gore
I wish she could have taken a tip from Sir Robert Hinshaw

When we finished the waiter brought the bill and waited for me to pay
£1500 bloody pounds, my bowels almost gave way
I said to him “We not finished yet. Could we have Ice cream and coffee?”

And I said “Oh and don’t forget the mint toffee”
Me credit card was on strike and would not handle that amount
It was time for me to exit time to get out
So when the waiter had gone I told her I was going to the loo
Said to her I needed to off load a number two

In a terrible panic I managed to squeeze through the window, hitting the deck
I punched the air shouting “Yes!” followed by an “Oh F-ck” and “What the Heck”
I had fallen into the kitchen and not outside you see
The head chef said “We built it this way to stop people like you stealing from me”

Five weeks on and 100000 dishes later, 
If I stayed any longer I’m sure I would have been promoted to head waiter
Nevertheless, If you do come across Glen give me a shout
Tell him the mad poet is looking to blow his brains out

**For my sweet Delysia Hendricks who asked me to write this poem**

**Deglet Noor is a date that you eat if you didn't know**

Copyright © Sidney Hall Mad Poet | Year Posted 2011

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Tracing Shadows

A faded glimpse you can't recall.
A ghost you saw not in the hall.
A cirrus cloud that dissipates.
The losing side in class debates.

The past returning past the dawn.
A recollection that now is gone.
An empty feeling now that's full.
Just what is it you're trying to pull.

Eleven hours, call it a day.
What the hell's he tryin' to say.
Between the lines you'll understand.
Just take your head out of the sand.

The second time you got it right.
And still not sure you saw the light.
Appraisal from an inept source.
Misguided stars to chart your course.

A fleeting sense of what you want.
Tomorrow's dreams that yesterdays haunt.
We wait for answers in our chairs.
It's not a wonder everyone stares.

Copyright © robert johnson | Year Posted 2015

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Boris The Wombat

Boris the wombat was very fat
So fat in fact
That he had to sit back on his hind legs
Just like a dog when he begs
His best friend was called Pat, the wombat in the Akubra hat

One day Boris and Pat, the wombat in the Akubra hat
Went to pay a visit to their friend, Roxy the fruit bat
But when they finally got there Roxy explained in a pained voice
That she slept all day and played all night
So Boris and Pat, the wombat in the Akubra hat
Said goodbye to Roxy the fruit bat
As she snuggled up tight

Boris and Pat, the wombat in the Akubra hat
Wanted a friend and so in the end
They decided to see Nelly the Numbat
When Nelly saw Boris and Pat, the wombat in the Akubra hat
She asked them if they had seen Roxy the fruit bat
But they told her that Roxy wouldn’t come out to play
In the day
And that was that

Then Nelly the numbat
Asked Boris why he was so fat
And asked Pat why he wore that stupid Akubra hat
Well they had enough of being insulted
And so they bolted

After that they were sleepy and exhausted
And all of Boris’s bulky weight made his legs seem like lead
And Pat the wombat’s Akubra hat seemed glued to his head
It was getting late
And the duo still hadn’t found a play date
So they decided to call it a day
And that’s the end of the story, mate!

Copyright © Katherine Hallam | Year Posted 2006

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Today is Monday

Today is Monday
What else can I say
Hate it as I may
I still need the pay

Today is Monday
Can’t keep my mood at bay
So please stay away
If you don’t want to be led astray

Today is Monday
Wish I can call it a day
Nothing I would say
Would make me happy and gay

Today is really Monday
When work cannot be shared
Nothing I can do but stare
Give me more if you dare

So..Monday please go away
I can’t bear you to stay
Quickly come Saturday
Time for me to play

Copyright © Aed Hashim Sheik Ahmad | Year Posted 2012

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a fun day

I love my grandchildren 
inside and out they run and shout.
Laughing, riding bikes and drinking
 cold lemon aide while sitting in the shade.
They ask questions about this and that
an when I answer they say 'no way.
I chase them in the fields playing tag,
hide and seek than we call it a day.

Copyright © Author Rhonda Kay Hero | Year Posted 2012

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Life begins at forty

I woke up this morning to find I am bald,
Wear glasses and only 5foot 7 tall.
Me bodies out of shape and what is more,
Me bits are all shrivelled, scaly and small.

Who the hell says life begins at forty,
I’m a blind, toothless bald headed shorty.
Which woman is going to throw themselves at me,
She will have to be blond and rely on a dog to see.

I walk up the stairs and stop half way, 
Me hearts pumping mad saying “lets call it a day.”
Me arse started making these terrible smelly sounds,
And parts of me body are having a race, the first to touch the ground.

I now need Viagra to turn me into a yup
Or scaffolding under to prop me bits up
Foreplay is leave me teeth in the glass
The climax of me sex life is squeezing a pimple on me ass

Oh youth where art thou,
You left me in a mess.
I look in the mirror and cuss with every breath,
I’ve turned into an obese belch farting sow.
And they say life begins at forty, with a body like this tell me how? 

** It has been brought to my attention that I should not have used "blond" so if you are blond please change it in your mind to blind, thank you :-)

Copyright © Sidney Hall Mad Poet | Year Posted 2011

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Apache Junction

Poet: Ken Jordan
Story: Apache Junction
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: April/2014

    Gonna take the 405 train
to Apache Junction.
    Bought me a one-way  ticket, 
and I ain't look'n back.

    When I get there, I'm gonna hike the
Apache trail; forget about my past,
and look forward to the future -

    It's my dream to climb Superstition Mountain, 
and lookout across the wilderness, 
to free my mind of all negative thoughts, 
about the town that I left behind -

    This is my fresh start!  In the land where 
they still panhandle for gold.

    I hear that the sun, is at its most beautiful 
setting, over the Goldfield mountains.

     It feels right, I have a gleam in my eyes again, 
and through the blessings of the Great Spirit, 
I'll have a few gold coins in my pockets too.

    I'll visit the Lost Dutchman Gold Mine, 
and prospect for a few nickels and dimes.
    I'll gallop back to my place on a horse, 
kickback in the cool shade, from my 
clay colored, adobe style home, 
and look out at a field of cactus trees, 
take a sip of some citrus infused water, 
and call it a day.

    Yep! no worry's, no problems, 
just the sky, and the Arizona air -

    Well, gotta go, here come the westbound 405 
to Apache Junction.

Copyright © Ken Jordan | Year Posted 2014

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High Horse Riders

Shine on you crazy diamond
Shine in your manipulation

I am here only to reflect your faulty wisdom.
Bend me to your will.

You are the Puppeteer
issuing the restrictions,
the directives,
the orders.

I am the Puppet
whose sole aim is to please.

Give me my reward
like the mouse and his cheese.

and I will run through the maze you have laid out before me
and relent to your forceful tugging on my joints.

Dangle your golden carrot in front of my face
and let us share in our delusion
that this exercise meant something
to either one of us.

Or we could just dismount
and call it a day.

Copyright © Yoni Dvorkis | Year Posted 2009

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Shopping is a riot

Broke the door
Gotta Iphone4
I can't stop
Popped back in the shop
Ooh! ooh! another Iphone
Gotta go home 
Cant carry any more
Me arms are gettin’ sore
But I think I can manage two more
So back into the store
For me 8month olds son a fluffy toy
And me 8year old a game boy
I think I will call it a day 
Gotta home quick a and sell them on ebay.

*Bloody riots in London. When all the smoke settles who pays for it we do, the tax payer Bollocks.

Copyright © Sidney Hall Mad Poet | Year Posted 2011

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Honey, how we have come to this
You used to welcome my sweet kiss
Now you turn away, I can’t see you face
Guess another girl has taken my place

Tell me, tell me where I went so wrong
We used to sing such a happy song

After all those wonderful years
You would embrace me, heal my fears
Now you just turn and walk away
Guess another girl has lead you astray

Tell me, tell me where I went so wrong
We used to sing such a happy song

Now we no longer even talk
Just too busy to go for a walk
Special moments no longer exist
Everything we shared is now dismissed

Tell me, tell me where I went so wrong
We used to sing such a happy song

You are always on your mobile phone
Don’t have time for me, I feel so alone
Suppose it’s time to call it a day
Guess another girl has lead you astray

Tell me, tell me where I went so wrong
We used to sing such a happy song

Tell me … tell me …

Jan Allison
26th August 2014

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

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Yesterday, yesterday I believe it was
yesterday I saw the most intriguing thing of my life
something to catch in a snow globe
a firefly in a jar
astonishingly enough it was only a kite
a mesmerizing kite in the wind, doing tricks
yes I'm aware it's an ordinary puppet with a string
I'm strongly aware it wasn't anything special
though at flirt glance it was a mystery
an unknown bewilderment too exciting
admittingly, in another coat, a dragon it could be
but bee is the monster that tore the sight from me
as it's small attack drove me from my perch
broke my very concentration
the musical lyrics I had stored up for detail
erased, there's no backspace on this typewriter
so there goes one more masterpiece
I'm stuck with this whole in my head
where the thought used to be
like something's missing, don't know if I'm scared or just angry
here awakens the mood of feeling like a scrooge
as once happy look backs are perfect for making this void
expand with malice to become a black hole for me to stay lost in
I could apologize for my snappy dialogue
but I just issue statements so stale
call this a stalemate
so forget my words I'll call it a day
I'd rather not argue at all
though all this turmoil has caused a headache once again
Laughing to myself, this isn't real
though the heart beat inside of my chest
tells me it is
but I just turn around stare at the gray sky
wondering if it will rain or if the clouds will smile at me
say, "Sorry wait for another day"

Copyright © Crow thepoet | Year Posted 2016

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Copyright © Teslim Badmus | Year Posted 2013

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The Ever Shifting Patern of Life

The Ever Shifting Pattern of Life by
Terence David Cooper. June is wife's
name and they are Basildon,  Essex, 

As children we learn lessons clear
Broadly defined lines we hold so dear
Constants to which we can easily comply
Until someone smarter wanders by.

The first chill of confusion swiftly ensues
That clever person has changed some rules
From that moment of be-twixed and between
We struggle to be certain, of which way to lean.

Changes must occur from time to time!
Improvement’s, disruptions, altérations sublime,
So many clever folk, well-meaning too,
Add substance to the mixture of the glue.

We stick, stumble, from one change to the next.
Unsure of correctitude, due to oblique guidance text.
How nice to be simple, I must teach it to you
Comforting clarity, replacing oceans of poo.

Too many instructions, too many lines.
Too many corrections, too many fines.
Too many clever folk, making their mark
Intent on reshaping, lines in the carpark.

Goalposts un-shifting, we know where to score.
Participants uplifted, everything sure.
At the end of a game, accepting defeat,
Winner celebrating, the rest of us sweet.

Clever people coming, thick and fast.
Hell bent on not being one of the last.
Changes keep coming, will there be no end?
Enough to drive us all, right round the bend.

Drunk, disorderly, not really in charge.
People expanding, giving it large.
We are SO clever, in the know, internally informed.
Tell you where to go, what to do, we’re not to be scorned.

Impressively depressed on mountains of pills.
Medication competitions, costing lots of bills.
Operations on this and that, with more to go.
If you haven’t had one yet, you’re awfully slow.

I’m griping, I’ve griped a lot, continuing to whinge.
Too many changes, it’s beginning to impinge.
Quality of this life, is blending into fudge.
No sweetener, consistency, a bland type of sludge.

Gone, excitement of good things we knew.
We look at options, there are more than a few.
Make complicated decisions, on gobble-de-gook.
Wish we had not done it, avoided the hook.

Having to drop our sweet, to give it real flavour.
Risk eating germy things, to find something to savour.
This is too fatty, that is too lean, 
She is too just lovely; you know what I mean.

Let’s get back to basics, like what we see.
Perceptions, objectives, please let us be.
Natural restrictions? Let us take a chance.
Heighten enjoyment, fulfilment to dance.

Remember those days, we were allowed to decide.
What was good for us, no need to hide.
You did what you did, it was all down to you.
We swum, we sunk, needing to see it through.

It is now too easy to call it a day.
No drummer to drum, no piper to pay.
Give up, disown your part in the game.
It wasn’t your fault; it was them to blame.

Let me represent you, I’ll win you some cash.
The accident happened because he was too flash.
The fact that you went into the side of him,
Is quite incidental, we can prove anything.

A recurring theme, recurring dream.
Conspiracy, deception, are you sure that is cream?
The poisoned challis taster, all over again?
After-all its not so bad, more fudge down the drain.

Glad that you liked it. Jim Horn

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Call It A Day Poem | Create an image from this poem.

White White White

As I wake up and draw the curtains, the WHITE clouds cheers my imagination! Is it a white bunny or that naughty white poodle! As I eat my breakfast, the WHITE cold milk with cereal tastes so refreshing! Then I marvel at that milky moustache which brings out my smile! As I walk to work, passing by the lake, the WHITE lilies and daisies relax my nerves! And the WHITE swans sparkle, dignifying there existence! As I sit down in my office, the WHITE sheet of paper reminds me of stark reality! It says it all, words written, inks soaked, signatures signed and deals cracked! As I take a break from work, to eat my WHITE snack, I'm marveled at the simplicity of it! White bread and Curd may be sour but the stomach's at ease with joy! As I peek into the sky, the WHITE moon shimmers down a song to me! It signals to me that its time to call it a day! As I curl into bed, my WHITE sheets and blankets nurse my aching body! I'm glad white calms me down, its now peace and harmony time! As I dream of the WHITE snow covering my dead body............ I realize I'm one with universe in my peaceful death!

Copyright © sima mittal | Year Posted 2013

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Let's Call it Quits

I am done trying
to win the favors of love
I am done beseeching
the dame fortune
I am done pleading
with the lady luck
I am done kowtowing to
the dictates of unyielding time
I am done holding on
to a faltering hope
I am done taking 
refuge in my faith
I am done wallowing
in self-pity and guilt
I am done wearing 
my heart on my sleeve
I am done dreaming dreams!

Lolling in the lap
of comfort and luxury
was not meant to be
Nor meant for me is
the reassuring arms of love
Or the trusting hugs of a friend;

In life's long and arduous journey,
Oh, where did I take the wrong turn?
Was I not the one
with the highest aspirations
and the sturdiest will?
Why then have I given up so easily?
Why did I let myself down?

I look in the mirror
And it's simply not me!
The one looking back at me
is an old and haggard man
With crow's-feet and cobwebs
crisscrossing his face,
Light shinning on his
bald head is where
a lion's mane once held sway,
Instead of a winsome smile
He now wears a weary scowl;

I look into his myopic eyes
And remorsefully I ask,
<>What say you if we
just call it a day?"

~Moods-Write Me Sad contest by Silent One

Copyright © Abdul Malik | Year Posted 2013