Best Struggle Poems
Cardiac cadence
of mama tides
keep zodiac time
tears like tides
taste of brine on baptized lips
sway me sea
in cradle-swells
between the crests
coddle me
in a pink-wombed
conch shell
for I like driftwood
have died yet survived the storm.
Primal, basal, beyond my awareness
How could I have been so careless
I let the line between real and fantasy
Become clouded through my jealousy
The fire rose, consumed, burned away
And left the ashes in its wake
I still search for just one burning ember
To reawaken feelings of forever
But destruction is all around
I fall to my knees, hit the ground
Can you hear me scream?
Blatant, cold, and calculating
Every part of this wrapped up in hating
The one who did this thing to me
Imprisoned when I was set free
The water rises, to wash away
All the promises we once made
If still one ember ever burned
It burns no more, lesson learned
Still destruction is all around
And I can’t lift myself from off the ground
Can you see me cry?
Detached, impartial, contemplating
Why am I here, why am I waiting
Just what am I waiting for
A broken window, an open door
A key to tell me who I am
So I can learn to live again
Without the fear, without regret
To bring back balance and pay the debt
To clear debris from hallowed ground
Unchained, but broken, I am bound
Can you feel my battle?
I remember when your laughter
Was a light across the floor—
Sun spilling from your mouth,
Feet dancing through the door.
But now the house is quiet,
And your eyes don’t meet mine.
You sit, unmoving, breathing,
Like a clock that lost its time.
I nudge your hand in silence,
Bring my leash, then bring it back,
But you just stare through windows,
Watching days fade into black.
So I lie beside your shadow,
My nose against your knee,
And listen to your heartbeat
Like it’s whispering to me.
I don’t know all your sorrows,
Just the weight they leave behind.
But I can curl against the ache
You’re too tired now to find.
I’ll guard you through the midnight,
I’ll stay when morning breaks.
Even if you never move,
I'll never walk away.
The bowl sits empty longer,
The walks are few and slow.
I wait beside the doorway
For a world you used to know.
I miss the fields, the laughter,
The trails we used to roam—
But more than all the running,
I just want you to come home.
You feed me though your hands shake,
You speak though words are few.
And though I can't fix broken things,
I’ll share what's left with you.
So take your time, my human.
I'll wait here—soft and still.
For when you're ready to return,
I’ll love you harder still.
i was a frog who wanted to be king
until i realized i couldn't even sing
a songbird shrilled
"you're only a croaker out of tune"
still i stood on my stump with a tortured smile
croaking my heart out all the while
i dreamed of being a stand-up crooner
a swamp-side sinatra maybe a little sooner
the crickets laughed
the herons one-legged stared
every fragile dream i swallowed
sat inside me
broken and unprepared
the wart-filled toad spat from his lily pad
"you’re stretching your skin boy
settle into the scum"
i carried an empty pond inside
where a thousand thorny dreams went to die
the audience left
the moon went home
a cold blue screen spit its light onto the scum
unthinking
no one returned my croak
i died a little every time i tried
my face looked back from the pond
mud-covered
wart-covered
ugly
my reflection looked away
all it could do was cry
today the water settled
the mud claimed the surface
when i looked down
there wasn’t even a frog
left to die
What do you know,
About the rule of British?
It is not a rule
For Indian`s to cherish!
It started decades ago,
They began with trade
And then slowly,
They began to invade.
It started at the borders
That were close to the coasts
It was a rule,
About which Britain boasts.
What then became of the Indians
And their peaceful life?
The British turned it ,
Into more of a bitter strife.
The horrors of British rule
Steadily began to bloom.
Across our country far and wide
Began the days of gloom.
The Indians didn`t back out,
They fought for their rights.
Across the country could be seen
The start of horrendous fights.
Battles were in plenty,
Loss of lives were too.
Those who were caught were jailed
It was like a human zoo!
It didn`t stop the Indians
They wanted to be free.
They were a support to the country
Like strong roots to a tree.
Images of the horrors
Were seen at different posts.
What about innocent people?
The images haunted them like ghosts!
Few hundred years of struggle
Had come to an end.
It was decided that the British
Back to England they would send.
The country we live in today
Is thanks to those,
The brave freedom fighters
Who destroyed our woes.
Hope is a feeling that people spend years believing in, not because it leads them to a place full of flowers,
but because it's the only thing anyone doesn't doubt. Then there is no difference between the lust of achieving and the act of believing in it.
And when that kind of soul grips the handle of the sword—the sword that once provided power to the soul who had lost everything to stand in the world—
that sword develops a second edge because of the one holding it, and it causes damage to both the good and the bad.
Hope is like a hill. If you think—you can walk on it as long as you have strength, believing that at the end you will achieve the salvation you always wanted.
You start to believe in the shadow of hope because it seems beautiful and sweet. To ask someone for your deeds, and to think they will fulfill your wish—that is belief, not hope,
because that is what people are running behind: doing good deeds by suffering so they don’t have to suffer after death.
But at the top of the hill there is no peak, because you never wanted to find it. That hill has lost its top now—it only has an edge where a man can see a flowing river of water.
And while looking at it, a man loses something: it could be belief or salvation, but not hope—
because it was lost when you laid your foot on the hill. That is when hope becomes belief, and that day, a side of humanity was born—one no soul had ever witnessed, yet one everyone became a part of.
Aspirations and desires he set out to reach,
One day he will make it and they will all be rich,
From a young age, he carried the burden,
Searching for purpose through it all,
Though it may seem like he figured it out.
Successful they say he is a strong son his mom is pleased
Taken upon his little shoulders,
the weight of a million boulders.
On the outside, he is a warrior with a heart made of steel
On the inside, he is broken from the pain that he feels,
Like he is longing for something but does not know what he is chasing
He tries his best but he sees himself failing the test,
A test he placed upon himself,
So what’s the answer and what is the cure
What’s the solution to being so insecure
it's like trying to fill a bucket right to its top
But its ever so leaking more than he can stop
With all these people looking at him for the answer.
“Give me this”, “give me that” they all demand
that's the least you can do for me, an emotional cancer
what he believes won’t change what is true,
He shows the happy and never the sad,
he twists his desires to fit in their mole,
Posing for the crowd with a smile
But feeling lost from within his soul.
Breadwinner By Sir Guevara.
I long to lie like a sunrise sky upon the sea
my flame a tender torch for your gasoline tide
freedom fire to burn the brine from my eyes
fluid movement of our soft inferno in sorbet shades
m e l t i n g
fever dream lover blushed in hush of dawn
my soul a bleeding rose rocked by your rhythm
—but the blaze does blister a bliss not consumed
a wailing gull slices wild air
with sharpened wings she rides a woeful gale
labor pains of thunder throb nimbus wombs
hornet hive clouds cut by cesarean lightning
birth swarms of stinging rains
I wander a wind whipped shore of cloudburst gore
with an ache for angst and a hate for faith in blue skies
plaintive cries break the bones of my widow’s dream
exposing my marrow my pledge to the Divine shallow
I throw myself on my knees
belly-crawling-ripples meet me with a rasp
I long to lie like a sunrise sky upon the sea
but sorrow creates a sunset tempest
and now the sun sits so low
I feel the sundown in my soul
oh the slouchy sun just sits so low
drowsy on the smudged edge of drowning
barely above the waterline like my breath
sea– I beg you meet me choke me
take me by the throat with a kiss salty sweet
sweep me out to your blackened deep
take me thief my grief in grasp of your riptide’s greed
Inner Struggle
is it the stars
on a cloak of midnight blue
or the moon beams
dancing through the canopy
that eases reality’s view?
the reflection
in the window pane
begs answer
for it’s tears, not rain,
that stream on the glass
silent cascades
bare the resistance
of approval
prayerfully awaiting
the dawning acceptance
All Rights Reserved @ 4/11/ 2013
Serenity, the gift I’ve forever longed
To be peaceful as a lily in a still pond
My fear drops away like raindrops down a windowpane
Love flows like the wind through the lions mane
The journey for courage is a eternal quest
Feelings of brotherhood is the best
Never again will I feel addictions pain
Everyday my struggle continues to wane
Companionship is the spark of existence
It’s something worth going the distance
Being alone at night is dark and dreary
Without another soul, it gets quite weary
But everyday being me is a little more okay
I feel bright and alive like a sunray
My soul is healing, friendship a band aid
Far few in between real friends I’ve made
But those I have mean everything to me
I’ll never let them go, that you shall see
Basically my friends give me my serenity
Through my actions and words, this you will see
it's inevitable
the smiles,
talks,
laughs
you come at the darkest hour
revealing a light-
and before you know it
those nights turn into days
those days turn into years-
have I met you?
Perhaps it's an illusion
a game of mind vs. heart
manipulative, evil
making your heart believe this is it
a stop for heart ache
but when you get so attached
the world's distorted
breathing each other's air
is it merely obsession?
Something so pure
it perfectly eats you alive
a lingering camouflage of hope?
3 months is the turning point
you're unsure where to run
your next move
how many steps
unable to decipher
is this what I want?
Is this destiny
or a false hope- a bridge
I can't explain the purity
without thinking your name
and how it sounds
how it rings in my ears just of the thought
you linger there somewhere between my head and heart
day after day
do you think of me?
Anticipation builds until we meet again
but then what-
you're remains keep getting stronger
I see into your eyes when we're apart
sensing, feeling every emotion
yet I can't bare the thought of this desperation-
this unexplicable loyalty
this feeling so real is so discreet
and hidden with perplexed ideas of love
coated with casual infatuation
A hauntingly beautiful perception-
of a bond
one that exists in fairy tales, myths
one that pressures you to be together
is it fate
or merely an obsession
We all have our good and bad days
Because they depend on our ways
Growing up around bad environments
And a screwed up system by governments
My family not loving me
Discriminating against me
Telling me that they regretted my birth
And me not wanting to be on this earth
I became depressed
And dealt with a lot of stress
Never taught me right from wrong
Dealing with these memories for so long
I always learned things the hard way
From always wanting to do it my way
My past always haunting me
From when my half brother raped me
And then abusing me
When I got older I told my family
But they didn’t believe me
Then going to school and being talked about
And not cared about
Because I was different
And not belligerent
My self esteem grew low
And when it came to sex it was hard to say no
Because I would do anything to feel loved
Known as a jump-off around the neighborhood
And no one really knew or understood
That I was I struggling with my life
Overcoming suicide attempts
And anxiety attacks
Coping with the way things are
Because my hope grew far
While days seemed to never get better
I tried to change for the better
I’ve learned to just cope with everything
Because in my life it’s a constant struggle
2025 Poetry Marathon Mile 19
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Contest Judged: 10/3/2025 1:17:00 PM
( 1st Place )
Written: September 27, 2025
No one calls her name
past the silent edge of her house.
No family voice calls her name.
The house is bare,
The quiet coils around her chest
heavy as a winter frost.
Empty shelves murmur back her longing.
No bread, no work,
only the rasp of breath stitching the silence
to measure the day.
The table bears a chair no one will fill…
she keeps it there
though no one comes.
It listens when she cannot speak,
it holds her secrets while the world looks past.
She cannot speak;
the streets do not bend to hear her grief.
People move past like shadows,
her sorrow clinging to the chill air,
her need folding into the city’s pulse.
Under the cloak of darkness...
she reaches for a mother long gone,
the hands that once held storms at bay,
the lullabies that stitched the dark
with tenderness.
Now even memory aches like an open wound.
And still—
each morning she rises,
pulls her body from the weight of despair,
plants her soles on the frost of morning
and begins again.
Not because it is easy,
not because someone will notice,
but because life…
even in its harshest silence…
demands she endure.
The trailhead stands there before me,
after two hour's drive,
a peak with a panorama
that others call sublime.
I have been meaning to climb it,
test my will and my heart,
cannot believe it took this long
just to come out this far.
First half-mile is the hardest,
the legs start feeling strain,
bored by long hours of sitting
now they rebel at pain.
Wonder why I keep doing this,
but still I do not stop,
settle into a standard pace
the pain begins to drop.
Around me is a vast forest,
everything looks alike,
like I'm climbing through a tunnel,
and can't rely on sight.
Cling to a narrow walking path,
where others went before,
nothing but endless trees to see,
I thought there would be more.
Now the sweat starts to flow freely,
and the lungs start to heave,
but the peak just keeps on rising,
getting harder to breathe.
The breaks are coming more often,
count my steps to distract
my mind from asking fair questions,
'Why aren't we turning back?'
To go through so much exertion
just to see rocks and pines?
What are we even doing here?
What do we hope to find?
Counting steps no longer working,
my mood is getting rough,
but then a glint of sunlight comes,
outlines a ridge above.
I push despite muscles aching,
despite my tired feet,
tell myself you must feel some pain
if you're to climb the peak.
Trees are now getting much smaller,
the forest starts to thin,
or vista I'd not imagined
I start to get a glimpse...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
”Be still and know we are as He
Vibrant presence, blissful and free”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mistakenly believing
We are this body-mind
We remain in grip of ego’s bind
Until from void, clear truth cleaving
We’re here, we indulge, then pause
Web of thought spirals spawned
That with cloak of love donned
We see soul growth as life’s cause
Pendulum moves left, to go right
Stillness in motion
Sans ego commotion
Granting us here and now clear sight
Open heart and unclenched fist
Making ourselves porous
Manifests within, a bliss torus
If we but cease to resist
26-August-2022