The city held its hand out to you and you felt like you’d become.
The flashing lights, drinking and dancing nights is where your adulthood had begun.
The wayward walk and drunken fights where no logic had ever won.
Pride or is it sorrow now fills your mind, to see what you’ve become.
The years fly by and your reflection starts to cry as you realise age has won.
You still feel young and ache for the careless, never ending fun of those nights you had in the sun.
Now creaks and pains try their hardest to remain as you try to remember lost loves in days now gone. You realise when your mind tries to rationalise how old you have become.
Where once stood so proud your youth and glory so strong and loud now looks back at you in mumbled confusion for why that strength and confidence cut and run.
A Reason And A Season
Miracle Man
4/25/2025
I deal with the challenge of my wife’s dementia,
Many days I’m tempted to just “cut and run.”
I constantly remind myself, “it’s not her fault,”
so I’ll stay at her side until one life is done.
Our marriage this August will mark 60 years,
we’ve weathered many miles of crooks and bends.
Tearfully, I reminisce our past of the good times,
before dementia rendered us less than friends.
It seems the “Golden Years” of which many speak,
were more like rust on the path that we’ve trod.
From my walker, I endeavor to absorb the slack,
kept going by prayer and my faith in God.
In these days there is no light
Evil stalks within the night,
Seeking those it will devour;
Hearts are darkened by the hour.
Babes are born and toddlers play
While parents rage against the day;
No money left to pay the rent,
Desperate times will not relent.
Descending into thievery
Requires no great bravery,
Just a mask and just a gun
Then you learn to cut and run.
Into a homeless camp you go,
The biggest dog runs the show;
Now you're king of your domain,
All the minions know your name.
In dark days
All joy decays;
There is no try,
There is only do or die!
Too many lines, cut many times: horse backthoat gasps
Dramatic mimes..looking good yet, actioning bad' no more
Are you the golden lad ' its well past chance, in such like
Saloons.' A sage might well weep; before your stage' that
Had to come. How could it not? You massage reality
Really; a lot.' Look.! keep the suits you can't (wear out)
Don raybans and hugo boss, and just light out.' There's
Often chance in choices made; there will be risks yet folks
Ain't got it made.' They look around as they sleep in cars
I note here; builders, whos skills are cried; Out for!
Really needed
In Canada for many a year.' The whole plan is now, so full of
Flaws; its time to exit 'this stage' but on the ( left ) for sure.'
Ukraine, our friends
tied to adoptions.
no one answers the phone.
Have the adults cut
and run. God help the orphans.
One was waiting, hoping,
knowing they were coming
soon. But now, we pray.
Besieged by the patriotic zeal
With lots of hope and freewill,
We set forth for the battlefield
With guns, grenades and body shield.
With the messages of love and harmony,
To spread freedom and democracy
We’ll bring down hard to his knees
Whoever opposes our war for peace.
We believe our mission is right
As such to the last breath we’ll fight,
If we but lose a limb or an eye
Trained to die, we’ll ask not why?
It’s but our way or the highway
And nobody better otherwise say,
There’s no way we’ll cut and run
Proud to be alive or dead American.
~Contest: War Poetry
~Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
Another uneventful sunrise, more incessant discontent
My thinker now runs and hides in the shadows before sunset
Left a bit dazed and confused, a poet lost in time
I’d better go find my muse, that has left me without my rhyme
I’ll do what I’ve always done, for my muse I will take a look
Maybe check out the local news and read some posts while on Facebook
I will scour the Soup for poems, then read a blog and its message sent
I will look at our list of contests and email some friends who let me vent
I will go to bed and slumber, seeking rest for my poetic soul
Maybe I’ll get some gold in my stocking, but I will settle for a chunk of coal
I’ll find my muse by morning, after my searching has been done
We may play hide and seek, but she’ll never cut and run
October 5, 2020
When there is no inspiration Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
I now see the crossroads my time is at hand
I’ve met the devil and proudly taken my stand
With my Lord and my God my heart will stay true
No matter what happens I’ll stand here with you
Your loyalty and wisdom are beyond compare
You gave us your life and paid for our fare
You give love for all, and you go all in
You hold our hearts in your hands and forgive man’s sin
Forgive me my Lord for all that I’ve done
I have let you down and you’ve never cut and run
Please see my heart and know that it’s true
I’m down on my knees, I’m here just for you
Watch my brothers and sisters and their children as well
I pray they believe, and in your kingdom, they’ll dwell
Please help us God I humbly pray
Please help guide us through these darkened days
July 30, 2020
STRAND completely new (15) any theme any form
Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
my hands are up for action
these feet for cut and run
I've answers for the asking
I've never been so young
?
you should seek shelter
call up your loved ones
collect what is of value
I've seen the coming storm
it will take some courage
to face what we've become
Oh lord, protect us from what we want
Oh Lord, protect us from what we want
?
freely you give your heart
to a stranger be kind
and unbroken in the fold
you need not lose your mind
?
no gain can be claimed
there at the finish line
surely it's a crying shame
when love is left behind
we'll keep it together
for we are to see the dawn
Oh Lord, protect us from what we want
Oh Lord, protect us from what we want
?
embrace the naked flame
in this we are reborn
Oh Lord, protect us from what we want
r i g h t l y
IN THE RING
Up against the ropes again
Bloody nose and eyes
Never cheated in my life
But still they spread those lies
Your shaken up and rattled
Where has your spirit gone
In the raging battle
Beat down but not for long
Resilience earned with the attacks
Of those who cut and run
Those who never had your back
They used you then were done
Your shaken up and rattled
But you keep that chin up
In the raging battle
You can never ever give up
Lessons learned in the game
Have proven useful now
Of course you had to humble out
You’ll get through some how
Your shaken up and rattled
Remember the trial at hand
In the raging battle
With new brothers in your band
Can’t do this task by yourself
Teamwork is the key
But you got to seek from higher
And get down on your knees
Your shaken up and rattled
You’re a warrior so prepare
In the raging battle
Training for cruel warfare
So get ready for action
Soon you will get the call
You’ll lead others with passion
And see your enemies fall.
Your shaken up and rattled
The past has built you strong
In the raging battle
Determined to right the wrongs
By: beardedjarhead
Our lives were of this moment…
the wave made sure of that
Winter nineteen sixty-nine
Waimea’s fury spat
Thirty feet and building
the giants all had come
Their lips four stories high above
too late to cut and run
The paddle out a nightmare
the ride a waiting terror
The drop in looming zero-sum
the wall the devils mirror
We made it down and set our fins
to climb the face again
Our ears were deaf, eyes frozen wide
once more to climb the mountain
On top we leaned and split the crest
last turn to surf the violence
The beach in sight, through foams delight
—death wading through the silence
(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2019)
‘Memories Of Waimea’
Uttering sugar-coated words is one dimension
Promising to love is one aspect, we must love
Walking on the head is crazy, we must embark on the mission
That proves our readiness and willingness to give
Stacks of moons and stars we promise
In our haste to gain social mileage
In the wake of the longing we increase
On our Facebook page
Cos promising belittles the dignity
Inherent in a spirit of true sacrifice
Which gives the little it can both here and at infinity where affinity
Traverses promise chasms and holds that it doesn’t suffice
To raise hopes on sentimental slopes we intend to dash
At the earliest opportunity we exploit then cut and run
Like the yellow cowardice we flash
When partners demand more than the fun
We long to access in the social process
Where we profess to give much
Deliver less than we access in terms of genuine progress
We purloin as soon as hallowed happiness from others shamelessly we snatch.
Smiling sun scarpered, sad stormy sky,
from east to west a veil of charcoal grey,
we watched as flocks of nervous birds flew by,
bird feeders idle, clients stayed away.
The cat, now bored with toys, and time to kill,
ears twitching, on alert surveyed the gloom
and turned to climb down from the windowsill
when heaven sparked, and lightning bleached the room.
Fur stood on end, eyes lit up like twin suns,
unsure what she had seen or what to do,
a second flash clinched it- to cut and run,
split-second silhouette shot out of view.
The predator had now become the prey,
creature and elemental paths had crossed,
for one who thought she had things all her way
now shown by angry sky who is the boss.
Like skipping ropes above the distant trees
the lightning danced, then began to fade
wet leaves all now consoled by gentle breeze
and rooftops washed in ever lighter shades.
She sauntered out like nothing had occurred,
sat on the sill and thought “Now, where's those birds?”
For contest 'Describe a Thunder storm without sense of sound', sponsor Brenda Chiri
25th February 2018
IT MATTERS NOT
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
It matters not the price , I shall not cut and run
I will muster up the strength til the battle done
Unsheathe my sword, toil; til the conflict won
Should I perish before the victory is reached
I pray others will rise and fill in the breach
Crown your laurels there are acmes to reach
Challenge all corruption til the victory is won
Imposing evil ever ignored, ousted put on the run
All injustices challenged so truth can carry on
Evils unimpeded strengthen n continue to grow
Rise up and face them, administer the fatal blow
Lesson to all tyrannies to reap the sins they sow
Thank you, Father, for hearing me
and sharing in my pain
the only one bar whom you serve
who offers no disdain.
From Mansfield's pits to the Western front
the stories I could tell
legless, blinded, gassed and bombed
my mates who fought and fell.
Sent to fight against my will
never done nothing bad
this khaki's for a fighting man
not a simple miner's lad.
Day in, day out with no relief
the onslaught never ceased
until the day I said 'no more'
took off, and headed east.
Stupid, looking back on it
the fear that made me run
from a fate that maybe I'd have missed
I'll see at the rising sun.
Tell the lads who'll send me off
I bear them no ill will
whether Frenchie, Fritz or Tommy boy
a kill is just a kill.
At least I'll miss the sights of all
the rest they'll surely send
just hope by Christmas, like they said
this bloody mess all ends.
Tell family I'm sorry
forgive me, hope they might
for all I done was cut and run
and this end just ain't right.
I want my Mum
June 28th 2015 for competition 'Short shrift' , sponsored by John Lawless
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.