Best Lifehome Poems


Premium Member Summer Vacation

I didn’t want to go on vacation
I would rather stay home with my friends
When does being treated like a baby
In this family come to an end!?

We went to a stupid hot beach
I don’t even know how to swim
I would rather be practicing basketball
Back home in the high school gym.

I sat moping on the beach all alone
As the sun was starting to set
We’d been here for all of three days
I wasn’t having any fun yet.

Then I noticed her walking by herself
Silhouetted against the red sky
Just on the edge of the water
I was speechless as she passed by.

I watched her walk down to the pier
Where she turned and started coming back
I went down to the edge of the water
Making sure I would be in her path.

 I was aware of this beautiful creature
Walking ever closer to me
Her blond hair gently dancing
Inspired by the ocean breeze.

She looked up and smiled as she passed
Slowing down for me to say, “Hi”
An opportunity I couldn’t respond to
As I simply let her pass by.

All night I stayed awake dreaming
Of this angel I saw on the shore
Silently thinking and scheming
What I would do if I saw her once more.

Next day I was on the beach early
To give my destiny a shot
I sat there searching and burning
The sun was so very hot.

Just when I was about to give up
And mope on back to my bed
I heard a sweet voice saying,
“Boy are you turning red.”

I’ll spare you all of the detail
From my steamy summer of love
When on a golden ray of sunshine
My future wife was sent from above.
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.

Didn'T Blink

I flat out nailed my first interview
Young and dumb without a clue
Then hired on the spot, no lying
Nervousness was my only crime
When suddenly his questions stopped
Damn it man, our eyes locked
I stood up in fear, my hand out
Ready to go home and just pout
His words were "your hired"
"I like the way your wired"
He shook my hand withe ease
Then we talked about the leads
I then asked him for an advance
Five hundred bucks, a slim chance
So when I left that interview
Holding five hundred buckaroo
I felt I had conquered the world
I drove home to kiss my girl
Caught every single green light
First time for everything, right?

Premium Member Instead

On television movie "Dirty Dancing" again
To tell honest truth I felt warm after glow
This looked like a fun thing to do from where I stood
I thought and on my "Bucket List" it will go

But when I moved from my sitting stance_no_no way
Even though this "Dirty Dancing" fanned my flame
At my age just don't have youthful energy left
I will just have to pen a "Bucket List" by name

A very long list of fun things before life's end
Seek map and then go down a never travelled road
Go on a surrey ride to hear the horses' hoofs
Would that my love and I for horse not be heavy

In a hot air balloon basket flow on warm air
Only so many years_go to states not been in
No longer sit at home breath very deeply sigh
I'll be able to tell generations where been

No longer sit home and watch each and every leaf
My life wil move now as if it was set on fire
Skateboarding looks like so much fun_might fall and break arm
Join circus learn to perform by walking high wire

When I look at my "Bucket List" I get so sad
Like New Year Resolutions that I never kept
Need a new list of very achievable things
When I seriously thought about this I just wept..


Good Son

That summer your dad died 
and we brought your mom
to stay a few weeks 
‘til she moved to the nursing home 

we drove east to Saskatchewan
the huddles of family 
I’d never met 
softly recounting your father’s fading  
while Bessie washed dishes without a word 
and looked for something 
newly misplaced

Only you 
her fiftieth gift child
who’d strategically shirked 
corporate success 
could flick the switch of recognition  
her pleading eyes a conversation
translated in flesh

Back at home with a change of plan 
to live together 
as long as we could
with the front door swinging 
the kettle screaming 
dry on the stove 
and Bessie shuffling the winding road
in search of church or bingo

'Til leaning down to hug “goodnight” 
your eyes her open sky 
where every memory softly whispered 
Bessie back into the light
© Soulfire  Create an image from this poem.

Motown - My Home Town

My name is Loreen Parke and I’m from  Detroit City.  
I’m quick.    My Mom calls me   ‘Slick’     
My  friends say I’m Witty.   
No wants.  No warrants.  No priors. 
No  dirty deals.  Strictly cash buyers.  
I’m  a very busy woman with no time to waste. 
I’ve got  Big Dreams,  High Hopes  &  Expensive Taste.   
Think slow. Talk fast.  
My connections are tight.
My options  are vast.    
Just  like the ‘Kid’    I’ve  got  my  ‘ghetto pass.’     
I grew up here.  This is my home town. 
These are the blocks that I’ve been around.
Don’t think you can show up and start changing the rules on my play ground. 
That won't fly. The  bottom of the  Detroit River is where you’ll be found. 
This is Detroit. The Motor City. The One and Only Motown.
This is where I grew up. This is my Home Town.


Loreen Parke
May 22nd,  2004

Wasted Talent

dribbles tackles action home run 
how often seen on the 10 o'clock  news fame is the blame for wasted talent when given the chance 
to make out the hood
and have the young look up to you what pride at what price to pay whats going on when the 
dribbles and the tackles and the action and the home runs 
are to much over your head all eyes on you at all times haters wating for your down fall wating for 
your talent to be taken away given talent taken behind bars were is the support when making it all 
the way
were are all your fans now when down and out they up and run we all fall short of glory not one of 
us can say other wise when given a gift not to many posses we tent to go astray away from whats 
real being real to your self is staying gold 
easy come easy go just as fast it can all be gone from the spot light curtains downone more name 
forgotten one more wasted talent


The Lonely Man the Lonely Women

He enters the room
we all start to stare
Bunch of women living life in such despair...

We all swarm like voulchers
Until he finally takes a seat 
Seeing his pockets full puts us all in heat
As I approach him I finally sit in the winning seat...

I tell him lies and everything he wants to hear,
Poor him, thinking I'm so dear....
Come a little closer, now I got him in my grasp,
Telling me Im beautiful only makes me want to laugh...

As I dance for him inside im crying
I can only look at him and imagine him dying,
Now were done we go our separate ways,
Dont touch or look at me, its better off this way...

Go home to your wife while she sites at home and cries
You and I both live a life full of lies......

Premium Member These Melancholy Days

Today I awoke feeling rather odd
I was neither sick nor in pain
I just felt wrong
I was happy in a sad sort of way
I did what I had to do
Which was a whole bunch of nothing really
Got my wife off to work
My daughter off to school
Went to Psychical Therapy 
And got tortured 
Lifted weights for about an hour
Then came home and cleaned house
Did my yard work
Read a whole bunch of amazing poetry
Went out to the ranch and wished
I was already back to work
Talked to my boss
Told him the doctor said next month
He told me to not rush things
Next month will be here soon enough
Came back to town
Stopped by the collage
Enrolled in some evening courses
Went over and fixed this old couples
Sprinkler system
Refused to take their money
Came home and called my wife
To see how her day was
And now I’m just sitting here
Talking to the Lord about how worthless I feel
These Melancholy Days

Almost Home

I heard a shout and my vision was summoned to the skies,
To majestic colors that dazzled my eyes.
The sound of royal trumpets rang out so clear,
Accompanied with angels melodious voices that captivated my ears.

I started to rise with such a pace,
I could feel Gods glory upon my face.
I knew this day I was going home at last,
As I was jettisoned above the clouds so very fast.

Then my feet sat down upon a golden path that would lead my way,
To my eternal home on this glorious day.
There it stands, the most beautiful pearl laden gate I’ve ever seen,
And a little beyond is home so perfect and so serene.

Gabriel was there to send me back, he said I was to continue to share my love for the Lord,
It was not a request and leaving here was so very hard.
Then when I awoke, people and monitors were franticly moving all about,
But I was unable to move, and I tried to scream but I was unable to shout.

Then life started returning to that old shell of mine,
And someone shouted he’s alive, a miracle, I thought this guy must be out of his mind.
For I know what had happened was simply Gods will,
That I hadn’t quite finished fulfilling our deal.

Tick Tock Tick Tock

Tick tock Tick tock

Life fly’s by in the blink of an eye
Rush to work to watch the clock
Tick tock tick tock
Rush back home to start all over again
To tired to stop and enjoy the moment
Tick tock thick tock
No time to play, no time to waste
I must do this, I must do that
Time to sleep the day is over
Tick tock tick tock
Life fly’s by in the blink of your eye
Another day, another dollar
Before you know it your life is over
Tick tock tick tock
Your life has pasted you by; your kids are grown and out on their own
Your home all alone
Tick tock tick tock
I should have done this, I should have done that
Nothing left to do, nothing left to enjoy
The kids have all moved away
Their on a clock of their own
Tick tock tick tock
What will be my out come???

Recovering Adict

Recovering Adict: By Jessica Trotter
A.K.A BooBoo A.K.A The Lost Poet


I am
a teenager
who sometimes gets into trouble
a girl
who likes others
a red head
who has a temper
a bi-sexual 
who is proud
an outcast
who use to be teased
a christian
who use to have no faith
a wiccan
who worships the earth
an 'inside-out Oreo' 
who has country roots
a thrasher
who's at home in the mosh pit
a run away
who never ran far
a liar sometimes
so that i wouldn't starve
a drinker
only every now and then
a smoker
who finds it relieves stress
a patient 
in my own mind
a stranger
in this home of mine
a hurter
who found much pain inside herself
a pill popper
who stopped before she checked out
a cutter 
who has a hard time
a nightmare
if you catch me a the wrong time
a lover
who sometimes fights
a tree huger
who stands up for her rights
an activist
who argues a lot
a person
who use to smoke pot
a recovering addict
to all that i use to do
and i liar
when i say my home isn't broken to you

Train Station Blues

Are you serious, 
the train doesn't leave till 8;30,
this train station is so dirty,
what do I do till then,
I'm not going to get home till ten,
I worked all day,
getting dogged this way,
it's just not fair,
I'm on a tare,
I'll take a walk to cool my head,
maybe I'll take a bus home instead,
no busses today,
much to my dismay,
back to the train station I go,
It's getting real chilly out,
what's that all about,
here I am back at the train, 
waiting in vain,
they are calling it now,
here comes the crowd,
now on the train, I'll take a small nap,
and for this day,
I'll call it a rap.

In Dreams

In dreams I return to a former time.
To a home long left behind,
To revisit the mountains beauty.

Bluffs covered with soft moss,
Woods where we often played.
Paths remembered for long walks.

Deer, moose, and bear could be seen,
In splendor they walked the hills.
Such magnificence held in memory.

When awake always wish to be,
Back home walking in scenic beauty.
Paths covered with trees multi colored.

To once more climb to cliffs far above.
To race to creeks flowing at mountains base.
To hear the rush of waterfalls deafening.

In dreams I return to a former time.
To a home long left behind,
To revisit the mountains beauty.

DOREEN CYR
OCTOBER 17
© Doreen Cyr  Create an image from this poem.

Change

Gravel roads untill the blacktop came.
What was once home is now foreign.
I left town in emotional rain.
When I came back it started pouring.
This town is my home I can handle the change.
It's on a personal note why I grew up estranged.

Work Not Play

This is going to be a very long day
I just wanna be a kid and play
Got to work and make that money
When I get home give it to my honey
Outside in the hot sun
This job is never fun
I would rather go to the park 
Play with the dogs and hear them bark
But I am stuck at this job
So sore I feel like I got beat by a mob
Sitting at home sounds like a blast
This day needs to fly by fast
Next I know I am beat red
At home laying in my soft bed
This day is finally complete 
Tomorrow will just be a repeat

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter