Best Day In Day Out Poems


Premium Member Meant To Be

all earthy lives still have to die
and that’s how it was meant to be
though man and science question why

we celebrate the joys of life
and that’s how it was meant to be -
conversely, we don’t welcome strife

we grieve to see loved ones pass on
and that’s how it was meant to be
yet always there appears new dawn

we praise the dawn; it’s a new day
and that’s how it was meant to be
whether our days be bright or grey

day in, day out, our world’s turning
and that’s how it was meant to be;
for dreams to be – hearts keep yearning

we’re born; we age; this earth we’ll leave
and that’s how it was meant to be
but souls move on! THIS I believe.

Oct. 17, 2020
for Brian Strand's  the 'ALL YOURS (APR 5)' Poetry Contest

I'M Coming Home

As I wave goodbye and walk away the kisses and cuddles from my loved ones still fresh in my mind I set my sights on what will be my new daily grind.  To Afghanistan I flew  to fight for my country, I’m  with my brothers,  never alone,  a promise made to my family.  I’m coming home.
 
Day in day out protecting the base, going on patrol our sole aim, avoiding deaths ugly face.    Living in conditions that are a right state whilst civvies whinge with hate “you joined up so why do you moan”?  I don’t care but if they think they can do better they are welcome to take my place, if they dare. I only know.  I’m coming home.
 
Taking fire,  it’s all go now need to get across this streambed then, “ pow”,  feels like I’ve been punched like a boxer in the final round.  All I can hear now is “man down, man down” will  this be my last sound?  I can see the medics and my mates working on me till I breathe my last as I’m carried from the field under the rotors hurricane blast, it’s finally got through my dome……. I’m coming home.
Now they are all gathered round, family crying, mates recalling the best of  times, the only sound, I’m carried in my union flag draped coffin on my final journey and laid in the ground, no more crying no more sound….. I’m home.
© Tom Murray  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Sonnet For Statues

Of clay and water, I am made;
day in, day out, here I stay.
My soul, it yearns, to live and learn; 
as humans have, for all times turn.

As passersby, all stare at me; 
I ever long to be set free.
Trapped here in a stony chest; 
I suppose, it’s for the best.

No elation, I will feel; 
no joy of dance, jig or reel.
I stand alone, for all to see; 
a human, I will never be.

Simply put, I stand alone; 
just another treasure, some museum owns.


Helios and the Tempest

"Helios and The Tempest"



...

full knowing his azures
she watches him rising
he sends sunlight 
to her windows
full knowing the thoughts
non-conditional behind
her shaded jades
what fresh hell is this
spring green now
becomes her dazzling day
he doesn't miss a trick
he sends golden smiles
they're forever in eclipse
when he is the sun
she is the moon 
day in day out 
they move like this
he weathers her warmly
The Tempest
lets her reign
he brings out his fire
imparts each time
time and time again
she crackles electric
radiant
her thunder and 
her lightning rods
thrown for want 
of love
he lets her reign 
like this
he brings out his fire
imparts to her each time
she's captured with
a long held kiss
suspended she is 
enraptured
he has won at this
she will gladly fold
into him, and to him alone
she'll willingly lose 
to share a chance at bliss
Hearts are Trumps
They can win at this

(LadyLabyrinth/2020)

Questions of Life

Sitting here at work day in day out,
Running my machine mind filled with doubt.

Wondering, pondering about what I’ve become,
Have I done things right? All my task overcome?

Am I happy where I am? Is this what I want to do?
If I could change one thing, would I even want to?

So many questions cloud my mind,
Like the city smog from the daily grind.

Then out of the blue comes a vision so clear,
It sets my mind at rest as the questions disappear.

I see my two children sitting in my lap,
All passed out in my chair taking a nap.

Then I remember why I am where I am,
It’s for my children. It’s all about them.

So I’ll put my mind to rest for now,
Until I ask again what, where, when, why and how.

By: Nathan Bane Leccese
© All Rights Reserved 03/09/2009

He Breaks My Heart

He breaks my heart

One day he showed up at my door.
Then for awhile he didn't no more.
Then one day he come back around.
But you just can't make up lost ground.

I heard he got some girl in trouble.
Then said bartender, make it a double.
Trying to find his way back out.
Knowing fair well that there's no doubt.

He just didn't know how he would share her.
His angered fear started to scare her.
She called for help, he went away.
And now he's come back here to stay.

I've never known a more lonesome soul.
He just seemed to crawl back in a hole.
A place to stay until he dies.
Not knowing there's someone for him that cries.

Day in day out he's all alone.
Sometimes I swear I hear him moan.
I pray that he'll make a new start.
But, until then he breaks my heart.


Daddy's Lost

Never being there hurt you so
Desiring to help me grow
Help my childhood progress
It made you feel worthless

What AM I taking about?
Cause day in day out
You missing me was a joke
You never loved what you broke

Another too lost and scared
Though I can’t say I never cared
And I can’t say I’m not sad
But even you should know dad

That never coming to see me
I dealt with to a tolerable degree
And that I’ll always question
When I’ll hear your confession

Will I ever get to see you dad
Or have I truly been had
I guess I have to wait some more
‘Cause it’s always you I’ll be looking for

Premium Member Possums On the Run - Part 3

"Possums on the Run - Part 3"


Collecting cut 
silver blue grass
carries garbage bags
green-ant bites, no siree,
this aint fun.
Stand guard, he’s the 
lawn mower Pope 
(she laughs)
on his ever vigilant run.

Look on him with sadness
Look on him with Love
“one less mouth to feed”,
she thinks,
“best to run run run”.

What could have been
lies under Palm, Pinaroo
buried under rain and Sun
never coming home…

He’s a roll your own man
sits on the back step 
watching the setting sun
dark indigo shooting star sparkles
gecko changing colour on the wall
Fruit Bat squeals 
hissing Bush Rat runs.

He’s thinking, “make 
the lawn safer
ruddy trapdoor spiders, 
poor piping hot water
down the holes
cover with dirt. 
That’ll kill 'em, 
stop the effers 
before they bite ‘n hurt.”
Takes a sip of hot black Tea
gets up to iron the school shirts.

Sunday becomes Monday
becomes Tuesday bleeds
into remaining days 
like Autumn leaves into 
Winter trees bare barren branches
of each week, this is his life
these days his ever dwindling 
seeds of memories.

What purpose day in day out
he is screaming on the inside
no where to voice it, no one to 
share his Black Dog bouts.
“Make sure the table’s set for breakfast
and all the doors are locked girl, 
before you turn the lights out”.

And you think, 
“Is this all there is?”
You look through the windows
outside into the dark
along the fence
possums are running,
You think, 
“Run Possums Run”.

Lynette, Linnet 
a small bird, goddess, idol 
ever golden burning Pheonix
on your shoulders
sings her fading song 
“lovely child please, 
never ever forget”

(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Jan)


All 4 parts of "Possums on the Run" dedicated to an honourable man, an extremely courageous man, who served in both Royal Australian Army (first regiment into Vietnam) and Royal Australian Airforce, who lost his wife to cancer (32 yrs) and raised three girls on his own. This man was all about speaking his "TRUTH" and standing firm by what he believed in, my father V.C. (Peter) Burton.

1. T-Rex/Cosmic Dancer
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5pw8BNPn6U

Reflections Over a Cup of Soup Ii

‘Tis many days since I have joined this cyber family,
some even say my old poems suck, to that I may agree.
I struggled then to free my muse to speak more fluently;
What got me through, an eager heart to learn with constancy.

As I reached out with every poem they welcomed me like most
kindhearted ones that read my page and leave comments on posts.
I do believe without these men and women who comment
I would have stopped posting the poems, full of angst and lament.

They all are there, day in, day out, my cyber family.
Some are parents, brothers, sisters, some are still like babies
We laugh, we cry, we disagree but make up the next day,
send notes to friends when they’re absent and then for them we pray.

Though now I still am far from great this thing I learned, I’ll share:
People will care ‘about what you think when they think that you care.
Allow me then to say my thanks, my deep appreciation
For stopping by, for your replies and all the inspiration.






21 July 2015
My Cyber Family Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose

image credit: gbb.org
© Kp Nunez  Create an image from this poem.

You Cant Buy Me

You can't buy my conscience 
it worth more than a million
you can't buy my emotions
It is for my people.
I am for my people 
Not for bribery and corruption 
Which had feasted deep into the system.
I do not crave for foolish riches
Rather i work towards the success
Of my people who are dying silently in pain.


You can't buy me
And what i am made of 
Through your sugar coated tongue. 
I represent the image of the new birth
A new nation where honor and dignity abide
Where selfishness never exist
Rather love dwells day in day out.

i love to be remembered for good
Not for bad and ugly events
Where my children will not walk around freely
But as they go, they see the 
Ugly fingers pointing at them for
Evils caused by their father
And wagging mouths accusing them wrongly .
So there fore, you can't buy me.

Premium Member Ode To Mothers

Mothers, like mine, 
the rarest of jewels. 
The givers of life; 
extending a guiding hand 
to their children, leading them 
to a beacon of light  
when lost in the dark.
They're a constant presence 
and support system, rain or shine, 
through success or failure. 
Mothers, like mine, 
unfailingly comforting.
They're always there 
to pick up the pieces; 
wiping their children's tears
with a comforting smile.
Mothers, like mine, 
stalwart pillars 
of love and support. 
Mothers greet their newborns 
with joyous beaming eyes, 
loving them prima facie. 
Unconditionally, continually, 
they love their children 
From the cradle to the grave. 
Mothers, like mine, 
the glue that hold 
households together.
Mothers give tender shoulders 
to cry on, to lean on. 
Possessors of hearts that beat 
with patience and understanding
Possessors of arms ever ready 
and eager to caress. 
Mothers, like mine, 
natural-born role models, 
teaching their children 
right from wrong, showering them 
with fruitful advice and life lessons
Mothers, like mine, 
fierce protectors; shielding 
their children from all shades 
of harm, watching them grow 
and blossom into adulthood. 
Mothers, like mine, 
lend their children wings 
to soar across troubled seas; 
over seemingly insurmountable 
obstacles day in, day out. 
Rarest of jewels, indeed.
I'll always love and cherish 
my mother 



Submitted for...
Tribute To Women Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Beata Agustin 
Date submitted: 03/26/2022
Date originally written:  04/12/2016

Welcome

“WELCOME

New inductees,
To the great American Society
Where dreams like sirens
Beckon,
But the distance before such dreams are reached
Increases with each step you achieve.
The land where meeting opportunities
Depends on mobility,
But beware of people in your passenger seat
Our air bags cause injuries,
And our auto companies 
Will deny any direct responsibility.

Life here is a routine day in day out
Maneuvered through by most sleepily
And all lives carry a dollar amount,
Set by a millionaire’s Congress whose skill is stupidity,
While you live hand to mouth.
But here you’ll drive beautiful scenic views 
Beautiful people to meet
But don’t be fooled,
Many believe God speaks through the T.V.
And protect and serve applies to minorities.

Here your youths
Will struggle to get through less than new schools
While you pray they make it home each day safely,
Then with their Master’s degree they can work fast food
Or retire from the city with a gold watch after twenty.
Here products are designed with life limits,
Repeat business is how they justify it,
Then sold for as much as business can get,
Because courts say second rate is just good business.

But don’t be dismayed
This is an amazing place
Of Hollywood screen parts
Snake oil, fake body parts,
Magical face creams, and cash until payday.
Plenty of people here will give of themselves,
Just remember to watch your health
As you try to make something of yourself,
Welcome”.

The Rug

As Several look all the way up
And stare at the sky
Some will ask what and how
Others will ask what and why.
What must I do to get there
And how long will it take?
What did I do wrong,
Why me oh fate?
Because as several look up
And see the birds fly,
They'll also see those
On their magic carpet ride.
Those with patience or smarts,
Or just a pure stroke of luck.
They obtained their carpet
To rise and soar above.
So as several excrete blood, sweat, and tears
Working their fingers to the bone.
Day-in day-out
They sew sew sew.
Putting their souls into the dream
Hoping one day to take flight
On the magic carpet,
Destination: the good life.

Just Thinking of You

i love how every day and  night with u  there is  alway something new  

when im with you i can tell u everything even when i need someone to look up to  

you make me so giggly  that i just want to scream and shout  

i always will enjoy our time together day in day out  

i know that when i am about to really about to break down   

there no such chance  with you  alway being a clown 

every night that i think about you i have this smile that just won't go away  

see with you and me it never a second thought do i want to stay  

there things that you loose and some thing come out of the blue  

 you are the most importent person that i look to  

i been sreaching for the the person to show me real passion  

i hope you can stop me from going on this big mission  

when you call me beautiful i know you see my true beauty  

i know I can do you what you ask of me i know my duty  

i dont know what else to say all i can say is i love you

Premium Member Short Shrift

Thank you, Father, for hearing me
and sharing in my pain
the only one bar whom you serve
who offers no disdain.

From Mansfield's pits to the Western front
the stories I could tell
legless, blinded, gassed and bombed
my mates who fought and fell.

Sent to fight against my will
never done nothing bad
this khaki's for a fighting man
not a simple miner's lad.

Day in, day out with no relief
the onslaught never ceased
until the day I said 'no more'
took off, and headed east.

Stupid, looking back on it
the fear that made me run
from a fate that maybe I'd have missed
I'll see at the rising sun.

Tell the lads who'll send me off
I bear them no ill will
whether Frenchie, Fritz or Tommy boy
a kill is just a kill.

At least I'll miss the sights of all
the rest they'll surely send
just hope by Christmas, like they said
this bloody mess all ends.

Tell family I'm sorry
forgive me, hope they might
for all I done was cut and run
and this end just ain't right.

I want my Mum


June 28th 2015 for competition 'Short shrift' , sponsored by John Lawless
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.

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