Best Habit Poems
To wake each day, alive and whole!
Verily a gift for all to behold.
We assume, we will see another day?
Anything can happen, petition....pray.
Going to bed and not thanking the Lord?
You are here now and were spared Death’s sword.
It takes but a minute or two, to be humble.
Cease thinking we are mini gods, who just grumble.
There truly is only one great poet!
We forget we are not Him, and arrogantly show it.
Remember, do.....our days are numbered.
Think seriously on this, before you slumber.
6-21-2022
I am the environmentalist in love with wine,
my shoulders carry and reside in the cutting edge side of life,
the establishment craves to be the human race
while I stroll the memories of “Sailor fields”
amongst ancient Jurassic stone.
Is this! The only way for me?
My saline tears run freely now a days,
it’s time that governs one’s sentiment,
no doubt the plague of waiting relates to this.
What! Of the future,
hey , i want to forget about futuristic wars,
may be the media are in gross error of judgment?
I’m told I’m only a little man, at last now I know why I’m the
one that society chastises every day,
Why this mortal flame in constant combat becomes
life’s tomb stone around my neck.
To feel freedom, another swig so my lacklustre eyes again become stimulated
as the view overcomes my immobility and bids farewell, to the great lady
that glides portly on the outgoing tide.
Curse this elemental wind
that curls in from the east,
“Mother” i cry
“Is this the clarity of our beginning.” the start of all this crap,
as astringent thoughts flow through my urban bucolic mind,
seeing or feeling nothing of the moment, only a repeat of the actions of many insensitive men,
those that flourish, those that sentiment cannot stain those that walk tallest amongst men;
because they were hungry for appurtenance.
I remember well , in the far off lea of my mind,
down on the farm thousands of miles away across the Pacific,
where enamel clashed against concrete
there , where foolhardy dreams were dashed,.
when the heart pursued
the warm flesh , she that gave her
reflection to the swan song
of an innocence.
Alas should one be compelled to expire
as one would, a chardonnay basking in the hot sunshine?
Should one fall foul of a politically correct society
that , outside of one’s comfort zone,
because one feels , want , in choleric veins?
Even the sullen white cross, dotted upon the highways
become burning embers, a constant reminiscence,
an emotional monument to many inhibited memories.
Yet I beg this deportment shows me a realization,
that death is imminent,
so why this perpetual waiting, this constant urge,
for this vein dependency to be infringed upon ???
© Harry J Horsman 2012
Jesus, I Need Victory Over a Habit!
This habit has a hold of me. ..
I can’t seem to break it!
I’ve tried many times, but I can’t “shake it!”
I don’t know what to do, or where to turn…
When I tell others about it.
They’re not concerned…
What should I do, in a situation like this?
It seems like my life is just a big mess!
The satisfaction I wanted, I haven’t obtained.
I’ve myself and no one else to blame…
Many discouraging thoughts
have entered my head.
Many nights I cry out, before going to bed…
I can’t think or do anything like I once did.
I don’t know how much longer,
I‘m going to live.
Can you help me Jesus? I know that you can.
There’s no one else who’ll listen
or understand.
I’m going to get on my knees and begin to pray…
I’ll ask for God’s help and start TODAY!
I trust his power to break this habit of mine…
This is the hour and the right time!
I need true freedom and a love that’ll last.
Everything I’ve tried… Disappears fast!
To you Lord Jesus, I give a life that’s broken.
“Please come into my heart”
are the words spoken.
Help me Lord to have victory within…
And thank you Lord for being my friend!
By Jim Pemberton 12/22/15
Time has come to end this life,
Of having you here by my side.
My whole world turned just for you.
So now, I'm letting you go...
Don't think I never valued our time together.
It's just that we're not meant for each other.
Let us now close the final curtain.
Move our feet away from thorough pain.
Remember goodbye, it doesn't mean forever.
I can breathe now, glad it's over.
#made for Linda's Poetry Contest
# I'm breaking up with you
it’s a bad habit,
my cigar, thinking so much,
b u r n s t o t h e s t u b . . .
By the time I was a score and four
I was retired from overseas duty.
Was husband to an American beauty.
Had smoked at least ten years or more.
I was hep...... Cool Hand Luke the fool.
John Wayne, all my idols puffed weed.
The movies, sports, all planted the seed.
Be a cat, a lover, all the things so cool.
Smoke, you fool, that’s the golden rule.
Oh, I quit a thousand times. Not really.
But it went from the sublime to silly.
What I needed was a quitting tool.
Nothing came out for years, but proof.
If you smoked you would die early.
It would put you in the grave girlie.
They convinced me it was no spoof.
Then about ‘80 came the gum to chew.
Nicotine substitute with a doctor’s care.
Even so, you had to first declare
Ernest intention, a desire to be through.
I bought mine in May of eighty four.
Made up my mind I would like to quit.
The first few days, I was a nervous twit.
I thought “Lord help me, Please, no more”
The secret for me, beyond the Nicorette,
beyond God’s help, and the family grim.
After thirty seconds the want was slim
and I had gotten by with no cigarette.
Enduring thirty seconds at each twinge,
minute by minute, day by day until
my body expunged, the habit was nil.
There was no need to think of a binge.
After a while there was no more want.
Time passed, now nearly thirty years.
My lungs are clean, eased are the fears
wife and children had, their faith I flaunt.
© Jul 14 2010 For Dane Ann’s “being trapped” contest
THE HABIT
Form a habit of controlled thinking
Positive thoughts will stop you from sinking
When negative thoughts come into your head
Switch on your habit and knock them out dead
It’s hard, it’s laborious, and it’s difficult to do
But the results are amazing; you see your dreams coming true
There must not be any room in your head for doubt
When it wants to reside, shove it straight out
Positive thinking every hour every day
Master this action and the results will pay
Any habit is hard to stop
When you form this habit you’ll shoot to the top
Positive thoughts rule ok
You must keep thinking in this way
It takes will, it takes power in the beginning believe
When your habit takes over, you’ll absolutely succeed
Positive thinking is the habit straight
USE IT, USE IT, it’s never too late!!!
love SimoneX
I'm often repeated and hardly defeated
Could be good, bad or ugly
it all depends on what you make of me
I run a full course when fully encrypted
I am Habit
I can make you soar sky high
As well as fuel your eyes to cry
Can lead you to great profit
or lay you down underneath
Its still me Habit
A friend to both the achiever and mediocre
The very small stream that makes a river
What's your flavour? I make and mar
Can keep you redundant or take you far
Call me Habit
Be firm with me and you'll achieve a great feat
Be easy with me and you'll be wasted six feet
as she sleeps
her comfort
leaves me breathless
this monster
beside me
inside me
her scent
still serenades
the air
an untamed
paradise of my
favorite poison
a moisturizing malice
so unclean it
seems holy.
she's a cold habit
as she sleeps
her wicked side
settles
fists float
fallacy is forgotten
and
for just a few minutes
i remember why I love her
~n~
how many different ways
i could kill her
as she sleeps
The habit mind
Is the holocaust
Of technology automating
Rational enlightenment
For the slavery of time
And poverty of creation
A bad habit most people who are "real" have,
and falling in love is mine.
Oh, falling in love with crossed eyes,
and a fragile heart,
(never learning my lessons and mistakes)
I always lose the battles and wars, wars with mighty love,
and all those girls mock me when I am down and tired.
Sick and tired I am,
my mind races
and my head pounds with pain like a drum.
All I want to do is rest,
and walk down a pathway in a peaceful park,
only occupied by me,
and I want to dance with a black-inked pen
on a white piece of brittle paper.
Loving will come,
but I think it already arrives
when my eyes meet another beautiful girls'
then I get a quick jab in the heart with a sharp blade
called, "heartbreak"
and I cry, cry, cry,
depression sets in,
death and suicide runs through the mind.
I feel my heart turn pale and skip beats,
and jealousy runs through my veins,
when dear friends show-off their new girlfriends
and boyfriends,
and I cry, cry, cry.
Loving for me is a fowl and bad habit,
that I need to break,
before I find myself with a bullet through my brain,
or my neck broken and bruised by the professionally knotted noose.
Oh like the drink of red wine,
or the lighting of a cigarette blackening my lungs,
and filling my mind comfortably,
as I sit and recollect and think for a moment,
and shed another bucket full of tears.
.3.13.2014.
"The Black Habit"
Bast never rests
claws sharp as scissors
The Black Habit
no natural skin
torn to shreds
with a cream filled kiss
Legs wrapped around a velvet lick
Perfume purrs in your ears
Like a Black Cat
Bast never rests
Like a Black Cat
Bast skirts your whiskers
Breezes over your lips
The Black Habit lifts
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
“Space Weaver”/Lisa Gerrard
https://youtu.be/TO25_qAq8xI
Alternative "Space Weaver"/Lisa Gerrard
https://youtu.be/WokkX5FOf14
“I want to fall in love in such a way,
that the mere sight of a man,
even a block away from me,
will shake and pierce me,
will weaken me,
and make me tremble and soften and melt.”
Anaïs Nin, Delta of Venus
The Labyrinth's Manifestation Spell
"Gravitate to Me"/The The
https://youtu.be/xgwx40iAdVQ
Lyrics:
https://genius.com/The-the-gravitate-to-me-lyrics
If you should come upon a rabbit,
And you think you'd like to grab it,
Then, you'd better move with utmost care, because,
If the rabbit finds you frightening,
It will take off, quick as lightning,
And you'll find there's nothing, where the rabbit was.
Like a junkie,this habit I must feed
Searching,longing-for the next fix;where shall it lead?
The soundtrack to my life:A sonnet to my death
With each passing letter,I appreciate each and every breath
Why is my smile not true,How can they not see it is so fake?
Almost to much for my heart to take. Inside all I hear are their screams and shouts
most are not mine and this I don't understand?
Though I've given up control-this has to be part of his plan
Why do I feel their pain,hear their deepest,darkest secrets that they would dare not share:
At times it is a blessing but mostly so unfair.
Maybe he gives that to me too feed the habit,so detox can not be
Yet in still I have the sweats,shakes,delusions and I'm not sure what I see.
But my habit is fed and fed well
Sometimes my poison is Heaven-Sometimes my poison is Hell
My muse is gone and my habit I feel creeping up my spine
and all I hear from home is your doing great;just fine.
If they only knew what it would take to make my hand to stop,it would have to be broken
then too be ambidextrous for the painted word must be spoken.
This is my habit-This is my drug,emotions upon my shoulders ,I dare not to shrug.
I try to feed my habit and tonight it has been fed well to the top.
My hand simply can't quit,it knows not when nor how to stop!
My shower was quite commonplace.
I'd always start out at my face
And carry on south
To my feet from my mouth
At an even and moderate pace.
But I used to be bold! I won't have it
To be such a slave unto habit!
I'll change right around,
Go upward, not down
And escape from the fate of poor Babbit!
Since then I am free as a clown.
I can suds going up, going down!
But if I wake in the middle,
It's a heck of a riddle:
Do I head for the seat or the crown?