Choice Poems - Poems about Choice

every second is a choice I could draw a cartoon play with my dogs clean the refrigerator every minute is a choice I could paint a canvas write thirty-two poems vacuum the house every day is a choice I could meet my friends read other people’s poems wash the dishes cleaning the refrigerator vacuuming the house and washing the dishes are out I could read other people’s poems though...

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It's conscious. It's deliberate. It's empowering to the extent you decide. Reality is forever up for interpretation ~ Is life ugly or is it beautiful? Your decisions determine your life, can drag you down or be uplifting....

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Thomas Hobson (1544 –1631) in 19th century late a Cambridge ostler and postal carrier set his priorities straight he owned a livery stable of 40 Hackney horses or more plus boots bridles and whips and put the horse the cart before after the animal left the barn by bolting fast the door and as precautionary balm the nag nearest the stable gate the worn-out equine storm to...

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picking a fresh fruit is euphoric than picking up in the garden Placed 3rd (POTD) ...

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My mind drifts loose into the moving art framed by train window. Houses in the field glitch by— brick red roofs and windows that hold sunset across the champaign. I wonder what it’s like to live in that world, where you wake and rest with the sun. My gaze drifts to clouds light as swan feathers. Their dance—effortless, unrepentant as the sunset dyes...

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Spring brings Paradise. Farewell to Winter's...

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Rain like crystal tears Shed from the soft fluffy clouds To the thirsty earth....

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I am a bird in space despite not having my wings depicted I possess strength, speed, and vigor, ...

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When I had to leave, if you’re finding it tough. Because forever would not have been enough. Try not to let your lonely, broken heart, heave. If you’re finding it tough when I had to leave. I wanted to stay, I know you needed me, Despite the love we shared, it wasn’t to be. The memories we made, each and every...

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THE CHOICE here I arrived, breath away boldly stepped out of a Blue Train, not waiting for fellow passengers with tedious conversations about Hemingway, Trump or Berlin not that these were served on gilded plate, croissant hot excitement dissolved into foreboding, pain shattered into peace ~ bliss on cards an endless journey had end after...

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Shock! unreal, unshaken disbelief. Choice! the people spoke, democracy breathes. What was promised— a mirage, a lie. False hopes built to divide, now shattered, leaving many wide-eyed, denied, unrecognized, lost in the wreckage of the unexpected. Post 2-0-2-4 A reckoning. A trauma. A truth too sharp to ignore. ...

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Troubled men chase illusive Peace with sharpened knives and smoking guns. They recklessly wield all manner of weapons under the sinking, blood-red sun. But Peace is an individual choice, evoked through conscious decision That arises from deliberate and heart-felt aversion for the ultimate collision. At the personal level, if you are not at Peace it means you have chosen wrongly. Your reality rests in...

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Prominent Pleiadian pyramids. Poised, pronounced perfection. Perplexing, preserved peaks. Panoramic, picturesque pinnacles. Prophetic programming purposes, Protecting prisoner proteges....

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Every minute is a choice I could go to the Dollar store Could get gas Could get my hair cut Could sit in the dog pen with my dogs If I cancel my lunch date with three friends I could get my teeth whitened, Could attend a lecture on Sully Could look for my lost emerald ring Because I am getting lazy And it is...

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The first poem I posted on Soup. One of the first 200 poems I deleted. I found a rough copy in an old scribble book. Hardware Blues. My dad he went down fighting, to keep his local hardware store But the big boys took his customers and the bank said “Shut the door”. He had sales...

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