Writing from the heart
Emotions from the Soul
Sentences deep down
The purpose
The need
Alpha letter lesson
Teachings
Narration by thought
Anyone can be a Poet
Offering inspiration to try
Ability to emphasize
Burning the midnight oil
Candlelight bright
Idealistic setting
Poets sets the atmosphere
Then it goes through preserver
Fable becomes able
All Poets out there
Here’s your opportunity to share.
Getting up after the fall,
Standing again and accepting the call.
Giving it the proverbial "college try"
Burning the midnight oil and remembering his "why"…
Standing in the batter's box again after strike three
Readying himself for another at-bat, standing as confident as can be…
Picking himself up off the canvas after the big left hook
Shaking the cobwebs and learning from the hit he just took
Getting back into the saddle after the bump and fall
Now, sitting upright in the stirrup and riding tall___
A trying man can never lose.
Sometimes, and quite possibly many times, he may hear the blues.
A trying man in public is a crying man in private.
He works and tries; he contemplates and cries quietly.
A trying man is willing to give it another go.
He still stands and smiles after receiving his thousandth 'NO.'
But lose, he just cannot.
Because he always aims for his best shot
In the end, a trying man can do nothing but win.
In the beginning and throughout, he never looked outside because he always looked within.
Burning the midnight oil while writing
this poem one line at a time
looking for reason searching for meaning
making words scan and having them rhyme
consider the hands of a clock
as around the dial they rotate
some arrive early
(tick-tock tick-tock)
others come in late
one is fast the other slow
round and round and round they go
observe this strange conundrum
it's a paradox in every paradigm
tho' traveling at two different speeds
they keep the self-same time
whereas a broken watch
(strange to say),
in its oxymoronic way
tho' its tempo is a no-go
is correct twice each day
and
as it's of the essence whenever I see fit
I simply turn back time
3... 2... 1... emit
The blueprint marked the plan of her life.
Just like an architect she was, she constructed it perfectly
Drawing it to the very detail she wanted it to be.
Ink dripping, paper raffling, on to work she was.
As others slept, she kept burning the midnight oil in the attic where the sound was below ten decibels.
The blueprint contained segments and blocks. Each segment was partitioned by a pathway, demystifying a phase of life she had.
Armed with a compass she placed it on top perhaps a clear signal the direction she wanted her life to take.
Shapes were drawn, lines crossed and figures inserted between columns and rows.
To her advantage, she wasn’t in the 70s for she would have to wait for the canvas to dry up.
A peculiar picture struck my mind upon seeing her work, "a bridge “was it a message or a phrase “we’ll cross the bridge when we get there?
I live in a city that never sleeps!
Notice people moving here and there…
Engaged in their routine activities…
Minding not their surroundings!
Those who love burning the midnight oil…
Found busy working night shifts.
Those who are pleasure loving…
Found visiting pubs, nightclubs and theatres.
At night they don’t sleep;
In the morning they don’t wake up.
Aren’t they the creatures of the night?
Creatures of the Night Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
Date: 18-06-2022
place: 3rd
Fire
Dramatic much? One would think you were
the flame of Passion.
Shall I re-introduce you so that you can make
your entrance again?!
In your flashy clothes, that you
wisk down your runway, whoosh.
Are you gonna tell it once more, how the fuel feeds.
Your ego, burnt offerings consuming everything.
Burning the midnight oil,
by tripping the light-fantastic.
Shining. Me! I am the quest you seek and also the Bard
that shines light on the tail, the tale and your tailor.
Don't throw a hissy if you burn in the pit, out of prides-
travails.
Although the lines have blurred.
(Leos. Don't stare too long or hard.)
(You may get blinded by a dance of the seven veils)
( I love Leos. My Momma was a Leo, my main pride)
Copyright © Jude Herrick | Year Posted 2019
I wonder what it could be
The glowing merry marble
Curve of my masculine hands and legs
That draws them to me like bees to honey.
I stand here for their eyes to drink up
Like a mirror hanging on the wall
Yet all that they will see is me
Have they no pleasure in their own reflection.
I am the birth of Michelangelo's chisel and hammer
Hours upon hours he spent
Burning the midnight oil for me to stand
As I glow in alabaster-white
There here I stand in sculpted glory
Frozen in time for all man to see
The miracle of the chisel and hammer
Stand here forever in The City of Lilies
(Inspired by Michelangelo's David)
There are people who
live in the fast lane,
Swim upstream
Enjoy the fruit of their labor
riding on the coattails of the devil,
Chase rainbows and find the
pot of gold awaiting at the end.
I wonder…
Are you one of them?
I, for one,
I mostly followed
the beaten path,
But on whim
strayed off a time or two.
Ha yes! I also ran,
Stumbled and fell,
but finished the race, all the same.
I didn’t know
which faith to follow
but kept my trust in God.
I guess I didn’t
labor my life hard enough and
was just content to sit on the fence
burning the midnight oil
to earn a pretty penny.
A swarm of bees
insects, butterfly's & snakes
Left helpless again down on my knees
To digest hate into loves reality
It all started with an apple in the garden
the Eve was suddenly deceived
Blinded by the fatal cost of sin
now where do I even begin
A seed was dropped out of a farmer's bag
in time the roots spring forth out of the fertile soil
For the birds of the air flocked overhead
look at the swan in the pond
Searching for food in it's beak
start to turn over a brand new leaf
We can learn a lot from nature's beckoning call
a shadow of sweet decorum
We lie in silence burning the midnight oil
sometimes it takes to long for water to boil
Today there's lines being drawn in the sand
we will be ready to live & understand
The beginning of the end
try to turn around and understand
Be captivated by the way that you feel
perhaps a love embrace will seal the deal
Life is spent when your busy making other plans
look above to the heavenly love
Hopefully everyone will understand
There is a line being drawn in the sand
try to understand
Many equate logic for fear
I shed a single tear to numb the pain
We each are given a voice with a choice
many insist on lust instead of love
Other's just push things under the rug
eyes, faces & traces
Burning the midnight oil
when will this harvest begin to boil
Shadows break apart upon the morning dew
we have bitten off far more then we could chew
solace, humility & sullen brevity
Marching orders have been given
Satan's laughing spreads his wings
Trump is in office a new political swing
As the eagle fly's throughout the sky
to send a tender wish or a soft reply
Let us look above to the heavenly love
shelter lies dormant onto it's beckoning plow
The time for change is now
a call is going out onto the nation
Hearts to unfold their dream episode
become a beacon of light to a hurting world in need
I'm up before you,
I'm up after you,
Burning the midnight oil
As if I didn't toil.
Burning the wick
On both ends,
No wonder I'm
Always sick.
Roy's very silly
Always "willy-nilly"
Playing with no
Rhyme or reason.
He bull-dozes us
'Til we want to cuss,
Then they're both
Up at two,
So what do you do?
Greed is for the weak
Greed is for the weak.
Those who fail to act but speak
Because talk is cheap.
They tend to hate those on success trip,
Forgetting whiles those on success trip were burning the midnight oil, they were asleep.
When you are strong, you live your dream
If you live your dream, time won't permit you to accept greed.
Drop the greed, take up your dream and be on stream.
Because Greed is for the weak.
Greed is for the weak
Greed is for the weak.
Those who fail to act but speak
Because talk is cheap.
They tend to hate those on success trip,
Forgetting whiles those on success trip were burning the midnight oil, they were asleep.
When you are strong, you live your dream
If you live your dream, time won't permit you to accept greed.
Drop the greed, take up your dream and be on stream.
Because Greed is for the weak.
Success never depends on
The way you dress or speak
What it demands for
Is your happiness at its peak!
It never comes to a person
Who thinks of himself to be the best
Life instead proves to him that
Over confidence has made him an unwanted pest
Success never chases the one who gets
The literal meaning of dedication
And the one ehose hardwork
Never takes a vacation
Burning the midnight oil
Is the first lesson for success
Hardwork is the only thing
Ehich does not harm
Even in excess
The second mantra to succeed
Is to build self confidence
But if built in over
Can prove to be an interferance
Following the four D's
Dedication discipline devotion determination
Will lead you best to dream completion
And will givevyou power
To overcome fear of tough competition
These mantras, if accomplished
Can cause you to succeed
But only if you don't let
Pride to breed
This will destrot your future with a thrive
And may cause you to strive
Otherwise, noone can block your way
Even oroblrms will tend to stay away!!
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