Best Timelife Poems


Tranquility

As life has a way of letting us know,
There are two destinations of which way to go.
Should we follow our hearts and dreams?
Or let them flow away like a beautiful stream?

Who is really in control of here and now?
Your feelings are strongly beginning to prowl.
Professing your pleasurable inner cravings,
May not satisfy your wishful tastings.

To remain silent may be the ultimate shame.
Dare one say?.. Or should one dowse the flame?
With no intentions of destroying any life.
Oh, how struggles intrude to the extent of strife.

Perhaps share your mind and love will soon follow.
Allow the knowledge so we may indulge and wallow.
Will they be willing with their arms wide open?
Or will they remain in the life they have chosen?

The decision must find a way to be tranquil,
For both deserve happiness and bliss of ample.
All in due time will we commence that walk.
While minutes go by...tick tock...tick tock...

Your Name Is Misery

Your name is misery
here to haunt me in my dreams
In my waking hours and in my sleep
Nightmares and worst fears 
of course you can make them come true
For

Your Name Is Misery

You are the demon 
That called himself a dad
You are my illness, my shame, guilt and pain
I cannot shake you 
I try to run but you always catch me
I try to hide and you find me

Your Name Is Misery

You are the cause of my pain
I used to blame myself 
But lately I have found I am not the one to blame
I was a child
Innocent and helpless
when you took my dignity, my life my sanity

Your Name Is Misery

You have presented yourself in many forms
The school counselor who tried to violate me
The Father figure who molested me
The strangers who forced themselves on me
A gang paid to rape me
A Fiance who beat me 
And killed the child inside me
The voices that torment me

Your Name Is Misery

You have so many faces 
It would take my whole life to paint a picture of you
And quite frankly 
I don't want to waste my time on you
I just want to forget you

Your Name Is Misery

I wish I could get away from you
Break away from your grasp
Take away the control you have over me
I hate being under your spell
I hate the pain you constantly cause me 
I hate crying because of you
I hate the darkness you bring with you
Most of all 
I hate you

Your Name is Misery

That is no lie
There is no mistake 
You bring havoc, drama, and chaos 
All the things I despise 
I don't want you near me
I don't even want to look you in the eye

Your Name is Misery 

I am afraid of you 
I can't stand you 
most of all 
I am mad at you 
for you have made my life a living hell
But no more 
I am cutting you out 
I have never wanted you around
It is high time 
I got rid of you 
It's time to stand my ground
I am going to take you down
I don't need you
I never want to see you 
Get out of my life 
For I am not going to let you bring me down
You are not welcome here 

Your Name Is Misery

By: Jean Shular

Premium Member Slowing Down

Life is all the little things that seem to pass us by
They’re is a child’s laugh, a beautiful flower, and sometimes a good hard cry.

We go through life so fast that we forget to slow down
We spend our life in worry and stress when what we should really do is look around. 

It’s hard in this world we live in to take the time we need 
To have time for ourselves, spend time with the family, or just sit with a child and read.

I dream for a time, not too far off, that this can come to
I know this isn’t an original plea, but for me I hope for it to be true.

Like the old saying “Stop and smell the flowers”
But in my life I like to say “Stop to hear the laughter of a child” it holds with it such healing 
powers.


Life Just Isn'T

Life isn about keeping score of right and wrong.
It’s not about how many people you call.
And its not about  who you’ev dated, are dating, or haven’t dated at all.
It isn’t about who you’ve kissed, who you’ve hasd sex with , which boy or girl likes 
you or who played you or  who you’ve played.
It isn’t about the color of your skin ,or the color of the skin you date.
It’s not about your shoes clothes, hair, money, or colleges that accept or 
unaccepted you are.
Life just isn’t about that !

But life is about who you love and who you hurt.
It’s about how you feel about yourself.
Its about trust, happiness, and compassion.
It’s about sticken up for ya friends, and replacing inner hate with love.
Life is about avoiding jealousy, overcoming ignorance, and building confidence.
Its about choosing to use your life to touch someoneelse’s in a way that could 
never have been achieved otherwise.
THE CHOICES ARE WHAT LIFE IS ALL ABOUT!

The Great Clock

The Great Clock

Like the sunrise in the morn,
A babe, a life is born.
For a child, the Lord’s own pride
The door of life has opened wide
Beyond the haze, without a sound
The mighty Clock of Life is wound
Ticking on, into the sun
Until one’s time on earth is done.

The child will have to learn to live
When to take and when to give
He learns to fear, to hate, resent,
But love will help him be content.
Of work and play, a footing’s laid,
Of pains and joys a man is made.
A man who soon will stand alone,
To show the world how he has grown.

But soon the Great Clock quickens pace,
And he looks upon a weary face,
Shining once, but shadowed now,
With sagging cheeks and wrinkled brow.
And looking ‘round him he will see
All has changed, not only he.
Mother, brother, sister, wife,
Beaten by the storms of life.

Beneath the hilltop sod is laid
Other loved ones, passed away.
Of tender feelings once held dear
All will someday disappear.
For Time, like the healing sea
Wishes all painful memories free.

For it is better to think of things to come.
Rather than of things which have come and gone.
For the past is dead, all life’s ahead,
And the great Clock, ticks on!

Thomas J. Rauens
(Written in 1968)

What a Sacrifice Is Called

In times of stress
In times of tension
In times of rough
I use it to fight down my enemies
I use it to defend my love
With my power, with my strength
In times of betrayal, in times of lies
In pages of cruelty
Are tests from God Almighty?
Will I pass or have I failed?
It is all written and I shall not be replied
But in mercy or in pain 
I’ll use it
I’ll use it to fight down my enemies
With my faith, covering my heart
With its power, I’ll guide them
I’ll protect them through
With it’s charm, with its beauty
No matter what It would take?
I would devote my soul to you 
I would cause a life energy transfer 
For you…. Just for you 
I’ll do the tasks that are impossible to make
I’ll live the life that would pain and hurt
For you …
For you’re breath taking eyes
For you’re injury healing heart
For you’re life sacrificing mode
It is you that I chose to give all things
It is you that will open your eyes again 
It is you that will run and enjoy your life
It is you that will bring flowers to my grave
It is me that will close her eyes
It is me that will blackout her senses
It is me that will be waiting for you 
In another place not in this earth
Be sure to be there….


Living Fast

I’m a walking disaster
I blaze my own path
I’m not afraid
To live my life fast
I’m like a rollercoaster
Up and down 
I’ll spin you round
Until you’re dizzy, fall down
Nothing can stand in my way
Don’t tell me how to live
I’ll live life my own way

The Lifetime Clock

Tick tick tick
Tainted not sick
Brick by brick
Look with your eyes 
See for what will hide
As time ticks by

Clock strikes 1
Just want to have fun
Better run
A fatal sigh
As time ticks by

Seconds minutes and the hour
For time holds all power
Fate cannot be faced 
So feel how lies inside time are laced
Hate love life and death are embraced
It’s the life we wish to copy and paste
The love that is to sweet to taste
Hate is to bear
And death is for some to fear
Where the secret does enlye
Time ticks by

Will it be the end
Or is it a gift after that time will send
For some it will not mend
Every drip of life will be drained
Sympathetic drips from the sky will rain
Life will die
As time ticks by
The clock hands lock
Ticks slowly stop
Tick tick tick
Drip drip drip
Times up that’s it

If Time Wasn'T Linear

If time wasn’t linear
and life was an orbit,
pain couldn’t make me old
and age wouldn’t sound morbid.

I’d know every ending
would only bring pause;
that birth was just as relevant
as any loss.

I’d know eyes are subjective,
and the mind is a trap
disfiguring reality
like a folded map. 

Doubt will provide distance
like a neighbor’s fence
as pictures and frames
attempt to capture innocence.

And love is the answer
that will set you free,
unless you’re a hostage
in its captivity:

begging for release
or at least a transfer
like the sweetest memory
too painful to remember.

But life lasts longer
than the gifts we have to give
and it’s not about what’s lost,
but what you can’t live with

that ultimately will dictate
the silence and the sorrow;
that leaves you grieving yesterday
and dismissing tomorrow.

You followed the rules;
you kept your hands to yourself.
But you’re the one person
you never knew how to help.

You say people are leaves:
they change color and fall,
and just before their death,
they’re the center of it all  -

the years of emotion
that finally surface,
and, in a brief moment,
give those years purpose.

And we mourn a death
or a life is celebrated.
And we rot in the ground
or we’re reincarnated.

The weak and compassionate
struggle to move on
as a cycle returns to its origin
and time moves along.

Two generations later,
bones lay in a coffin
beneath an engraved stone
that’s nearly forgotten.

My Empty Hands

My weary hands reflect the works of my life,
and my heart is humbled by the countless tears I shed.
I blind myself to the good I've done,
only to judge myself harshly when I'm in bed.

Every day I measure who I've become
by the sight of my empty human hands.
It seems that I lose a piece of my soul,
when life knocks me into despair's sands.

Time keeps aging the fragile skin
that holds youth's beauty in its place.
Each proud mirror that looks at me,
sees sorrow's wrinkles ironed into my face.

My empty hands reflect my soul's story,
but my pride has clouded my own sights.
I hold grief's hand so tenderly,
as life guides me through my heart's broken nights.

Storms In Life

Quiet is the ocean and then erupts a hurricane
So much devestation and people crying out in pain
Serene are the drops of rain that turn into a storm
A journey through the cold snow with no place to keep warm
A day will come when all shall pass and souls will be at rest
A desert storm of sweeping sands it seems that life is just a test
Deliverance will come at last just follow the brightest light
And on earth the storm will end and life begins a new flight

Land of Graves

Land of Graves

A land of graves makes for quiet neighbors.  
He who blessed or cursed extant thereupon remains 
Shall suffer little disturbance at the will of his resting countrymen.  
The deep silence of an irrevocable sleep pervades his surrounds.  
His own sleep mimics that of his departed brethren 
But that kin to living rest is a far colder, everlasting condition.  
Lest it be by the appearance of some revenant, 
His nights will be those of uninterrupted stillness.  
The surface of this vast earthen sarcophagus is adorned with faltering monuments- 
The souls of their corresponding constituency have long-since dispersed in nihilum- 
Leaving playing children and Springtime Sunday-afternoon-passersby 
To speculate on their origins and exits, lives and times.  
But make no mistake this is not a wholly moribund environment.  
There is life in this soil yet.  There is an irrepressible profusion reclaiming 
This tomb from its own looming finality.  The tomb is rendered womb by its power.  
The tomb-womb is green.  It is a garden, a park, a yard and an arboretum.  
It is a charnel conservatory of the deceased, yes, but this sepulchered meadow 
Exists as much if not more for those with air in their lungs and blood 
In their veins as it does for those buried beneath its grassy lawns.  
Though in little more than a generation even the freshest entries into its 
Assembly will receive only sparing or incidental visitation.  
The ancestry hobbyist and the armchair genealogist will pay their homage.  
The digger of graves and the mower of lawns will be more frequent still.  
Is maintenance in the face of inevitability an exercise in courage or folly?  
Perhaps it is just necessary for life to go on.

My Life

MY LIFE


Deep in my heart I always feel
My Life is too complex to reveal

Like the ocean deep it goes 
Like the air it always flows

Trying to find the truest vision
I always fell back with different reason

None to see , None to hear my only plea,
As the day ends with lonely tea

God surely knows my life's future face
For the moment its feeling ablaze

Trapped inside natures bugged roof
I am destined to toil MY LIFE aloof.


------YASHU

It's Time

Theres a momment when you  realize your not a little girl anymore.

Mommy and daddy arn't there to run too.

You have to make your own choices.

Your finely free.

You get to do what you want.

No one setting rules for you...

Your life is perfect...

Right?

This momment is the one you've been waiting for...

But now that its here...

Your eyes are getting teary...

Already longing for the "good old days"

The good old days where...

Mommy would sing you to sleep...

Daddy would rock you in his lap when you where scared...

You knew you where safe...

You didn't have to worrie about being judge...

You knew when you got home there was someone to love you...

That was the good old days...

Now its time...

Time to go...

Go out on your own...

Alone...

Its time...

To go out and start a life of your own...

All grown up...

You're not a little girl anymore...

It's time...

You're ready...

To start a life of your own...

Little girl...

Farewell...

Chance

Chance

By BJ Welsh

With life and living we take our chance
Nodding in agreement to a furtive glance
Waking up each day is a chance we take
That life will deliver us for Heaven’s sake
We awake each sunrise with a hope reborn
Chance seeing an other suffer and torn

It’s one other’s life you see at a glance
Hoping for approval, it’s but a chance
The life you witness as others pass
The pain inside may subside, alas
Hoping to see one as you
The chance you take to find two

Running out of time the clock is ticking
Chance there are others whose lives aren’t clicking
Great as that may be, the chance you’re all alone rises
Furtive glances from beneath disguises
Chance that hiding the pain and hurt won’t last
The agony you feel will not be fast

Chance you soon become discovered
In your waking hours its’ uncovered
You’ve lived a life of hurt and pain
 The chance you’ve taken may have been in vain

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