Best Quitting Poems
I cant do it right
I'm not in the mood for this
I quit giving up
It is always good to know when to quit
but don't quit when you know.
Could you imagine,
A face like that?
Created by the face of an angel
And modeled like fashion
For the damned and deceased.
A respected locksmith,
Drunk on insomnia and aging,
Kissing the pavement
With bare and busied feet.
The Brazilian beauty
Who prides herself as
The representative of blushing.
The one who catches the bouquet
By chance and
Throws it away before anyone notices.
But on a theory in a slip of time,
Before the extinct proposition
And an oddly proportioned new born,
Curls a quivering life form
In the belly of this woman so sweet.
Born from innocence and named Mary,
For the sake of Jesus.
She is not 36 nor is she 16
Yet she is at the fruitful age of 57.
And at 57,
This symbol of love and innocence
Is fumbling with the curiosity
Of breast feeding her unborn child
That wiggles and withers with frailty
Inside of her.
Dark wood,
Unimaginable line,
Where could you have gone
When the pages were as blank as the faces
And for the life of you,
You couldn't tell the difference.
Just say it.
Rip it from the tip of your tongue.
Show your taste buds no mercy and speak.
Grow.
Expand.
Consider the possibilities when
It appears there are none.
Enjoy the pain
And embrace all oppressions and oppositions.
Slumber in the smutty bluntness
Of a marital masquerade.
Quit it
Then keep it going.
Move the stones
And bend their broken subtractions.
Crack the indescribable aptitude
Of times motive for murder.
Explicate reason,
Smoke your lungs away,
Cry your eyes out,
And suck at the wastelands.
On quitting PoetrySoup as soon as I join
This morning I had
two comments on
two poems I posted
yesterday.
They were both from
the same person
and very nice comments
they were, indeed.
And yet, my first reaction
was not, as you might expect,
one of joy and happiness:
“Oooh! Someone liked
my poems!”
It was, instead,
“Oh no - I’ve got to
quit Poetry Soup!
Strangers are reading my
deathless verse
and that just ain’t sposed
to happen!
And yet it did
and yet I didn’t
(quit, that is)
and yet
I wanted to.
The confidence is choice my soul the scene
like rivers winding backwards be mundane!
Opposing is my forethought my exclaim
that holy art of trial, pray to redeem!
Oppose me not, Oh God, in this remain
nor edge out indiscretion, thought were vain,
that character did choose to grant my wane
a walking pattern master filed my name!
It were my heart, as effort's yet proclaim
but true within in goodness and explain,
wearied Faith, my solitude doth aim
to ply my course, resumption gears disdain!
To trial by error, hearty towards contain
opposing gathers courage, while quitting . . . stays the same!
I've been smoke free two months today.
I haven't smoked and I hope that's how things will stay.
Please don't start smoking, it wasn't a good thing for me to do.
Please say no to nicotine because that is what is best for you.
Baby steps, followed by
a child's stumbling,
teenage sprained ankles,
broken bones and
bodies covered with bruises,
adults take two steps forward
followed by one step back.
What of the person with no feet?
Hasn't he a reason to succeed.
His will shaped by submission
to a higher power than his own
encouraged by right mentors.
Elderly invalids often leap
into service through a
ministry from their couch.
Hard work, patience, determination,
and faith gets us to our goal
when misdirected love says,
“It’s okay to quit.”
September 9, 2019
contest: Sometimes Love Is Not Enough https://www.poetrysoup.com/poetry/contests/sometimes_love_is_not_enough_13171
Host: Silent One
morning wakes coughing
disturbing gold-green locket
contemplating patch
5/15/09
Admitting Than Quitting
Was truly my style to start sitting,
While all my bad habits admitting;
Started to count them one by one;
Then when I was finished and done
Them concurrently started quitting.
What else is there left I should say
Should make mine Poem of the Day
And if the day has become bleak
Can also make it Poem of the Week
Have my permission yes you may.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
This life is my life
Why is this my life
So I shout YOLO
Maybe I'll try van life
Cause escapism
And romanticizing
Are all that's really driving me
And maybe one day
I'll really do it
I'll quit my job and
I'll get right to it
Because they told me
That time is money
So right now I'm rich as I can be
I was a facebook addict till last month. I used to check facebook every 5 mins.Many times,I voluntarily asked my friends to give likes and comments.Suddenly a big dispute between my internal monologue and me.
IM:Why are you sharing the photos in fb? Just to show case your talents?.What is the use of sharing it? Will it promote your talent or will it help you to succeed?
ME:I am just letting my friends to see my stuffs ,so that I will get a feedback to improve my skills .
IM:If you want to do so,why don’t you send them in personal?
ME:They might be busy in times and they would not reply.If I post in fb,they will see it when they have enough time.
IM:What if no one likes it?
ME:I feel perturbed
IM:What if you get more likes?
ME:I will be delighted.
IM:So?Is that what you need in your life? Just the likes? What are you going to do with it? If you are just elated in the temporary happiness,then you cannot clinch big.After all,delighting in pride is the root cause of failures.
ME:Then how could I share my posts ? How could I let my friends know what I am doing?
IM:Are they longing to see your posts? Has anybody ever told you that they missed your posts? ME:Few people have said that
IM:Just work hard in silence let your success make all the noise.
That was all the solace I could embrace to quit facebook.Since quitting fb,I have been spending my time usefully.I started participating in many real competitions,getting enough time to prepare for the competitive exams.
We pass the fire sticks near the police cars,
lit.
Bright round moon shine, that’s it.
The fit,
from the tall and small,
still they’d rather walk then sit
with grandpa in the car.
We are so close to home. Each keeps their wit
and acumen, as we trudge through the dark -
feels dangerous, but we don’t quit,
even when grandpa gives a second chance
then he drives, leaving us insanely split.
Arguments ensue near thick smoke
as cars commit
and we don’t want to get hit
so the older kid wants to grab the illumined necklace
from the younger’s hand and both won’t quit.
Smarty pants grandma asks him why he doesn’t use
his cell. Well, duh, he’s out of power. Keeping my wit
and acumen, steering my cell out of my purse,
handing the flashlight to him. He takes it.
The younger than offers to share…forget it.
Epilogue:
sweets, showers, sleep - nah, sit…yes, nice
as husband shushes…a little bit
7/1/2023
I'm tired of lying, to myself and by myself
I'm tired of dying, by myself and from my self-rolled comfort;
Packed security.
In eight years it never felt like poison
It never felt like she could kill
Call this our last embrace
Or call this my last taste
Of what I can't help but miss -
Call it a chance to reminisce
No matter.
A rose by any other name,
A kiss from any other dame -
They're both as sweet.
So let me finish one last smoke
And forgive me for thinking of you as I choke
One press to your lips always left me breathless
I'm happy to say that I quit smoking half a year ago.
It's been six months today since I last smoked tobacco.
When I was presented with the opportunity to quit, I decided to reach out and grab it.
All that I needed was some nicotine patches and faith in God to be able to kick the habit.
I quit smoking even though it's not an easy thing to do.
If you're a smoker who wants to quit, I believe in you.
You never even asked me how I felt
Not even about the problems I’d been dealt.
I wish that somehow I could turn back time
And then maybe everything would be fine.
Maybe if I would’ve thought twice
I wouldn’t be sitting here rolling my dice.
I’m sick and tired of always messing up
That saying I’m sorry just isn’t enough.
I think the world would be a lot better place
If I quit now and dropped out of this race.
Quitting is my only way out
Winning is what it’s always been about.
I’m not a winner, and I doubt I’ll ever be
Someone important, not even me.
I’m tired of dealing with myself
And I don’t think a shrink could even help.
I hate myself and that’s that
You can’t change my mind there’s no turning back.
It’s gone too far and I’ve been hurt
No one can help I feel like dirt.
Why does it have to end so tragically
Everything’s my fault why can’t you see?