The frustration
Of you
Is like a relentless migraine
Absentmindedly
Mind numbing
I need the daily reminder
How I could be everything
Sleeping in your favorite shirt
Holding me so close
I can feel your heartbeat against my back
Whispering the drafts
you’ve written
In your mind
Dripping in color
From your brown eyes
To my red hair in the sun
Or I can be nothing
Crying in your favorite shirt
Holding my blanket so close
It can feel my jagged breath against its back
The way you had to be
It was the way I had to kneeel down,
the waves that we sorted out
came back to us.
The turning point could have
been our way to choose.
We didn't take the right one,
only we worsen our life to destruction.
The way you were, made me feel miserable,
The way you were, made me feel doubtful.
The way you were, made me walk on a tightrope.
The way you were made feel a queen at the same time.
You had all those things to make me be confused.
I wouldn't spend a second to write, but I know you were the one.
Now, you are not here anymore, but I miss the way you were.
I miss how difficult you were,
how distant and cold sometimes you showed.
I know you had a hurt heart
which I could not heal.
Now, that you've become only
a whisper to my ears,
a dream to my nights,
a daily reminder. I want to tell you one thing. I forgive you and I've just hope you can forgive me too.
You weren't a bad person, or me, just circunstances
made us to take different routes.
Now, you are death, it' s nothing that I can say, just sorry if I could not understand the way you used be.
Sorry, my heart beets on, because only me knows the way you were.
In the tapestry of life, memories weave their threads, and the echoes of past workplaces linger like faint perfume. Seacrest, with its morning shifts and graveyard hours, left an indelible mark—a mix of disdain and nostalgia. The Stench, both literal and metaphorical, clings to the corridors of memory.
Retirement, a withdrawal from life’s hustle, offers solace. It’s like stepping out of a turbulent river into a calm pond. Yet, self-reflection creeps in—an inventory of wasted years spent in an institution were money reigned supreme. What good remains? The ledger is blank, the balance elusive.
Here, at sixty, sanity is my prayer. A few screws may be loose, but not enough to rattle the Monkey cages of life’s absurdity. Kindness flows, a gentle current, but I know it can backfire—a vulnerability in a world that thrives on sharp edges.
And you, a familiar face, a reminder: “This path, tread cautiously.” In my next life, I’ll be a poet—a real one, successful and unyielding. A master tinker, weaving words into magic. A philosopher, unraveling life’s mysteries.
But for now, I am Annie—the content creator, the mother, the friend in need. And perhaps, that’s enough.
Sticky notes, adhesive and bright,
Myriad colors in my sight,
In my room, they cover the walls,
Reminders of tasks, big and small.
They seem so simple, but to me,
They represent my antithesis,
A symbol of all I can't be,
Of goals unmet and missed chances.
My weary eyes scan each square,
A daily reminder of my affairs,
The notes mock me with their stare,
As if saying, "why aren't you there?"
I try to ignore them, to push away,
But they cling to me like the day,
My mind races, thoughts astray,
Caught up in the web they lay.
I wish I could toss them out,
Let go of this nagging doubt,
But they remain, without a doubt,
A constant reminder, a persistent shout.
Sticky notes, they seem so small,
But they hold me in their thrall,
A reminder of my every flaw,
A constant burden, a heavy maul.
I long for freedom, to break free,
From these notes and their decree,
To find a way to simply be,
Without the weight of my history.
But until then, I'll continue to write,
To add to my collection, day and night,
Sticky notes, adhesive and bright,
A constant reminder of my plight.
Wanted
Your Child For One Week
(Vacation Bible School)
By Tom Wright
7/17/2002
Lord,
‘mongst us, send those with fertile minds,
entrust to us, all those with willing hands.
Those not biased, or callused from Satan’s binds,
who will travail, united, as the oceans sands.
Give us hearts, not yet as mid summers clay,
and feet, not reluctant to run and do.
Children who will accept a challenge along the way,
but Lord, mostly, those not yet taught of you.
As servants, empower us to till this fertile ground,
and let our petitions forever be, o’er acorns we have sown.
That on a good foundation, soon mighty oaks be found,
yielding fruit for You as future years have grown.
Finally, aged saints, a plaque done at our hand,
a daily reminder from the juniors class, of words adored.
While some who view it may not think it grand,
it shares our witness,
* “But as for me and my house, we will serve the lord.”
Amen
*Joshua 24:14
Began so promising
As thoughts of a new year approached
Some called it a year of new beginnings and clarity
That 20/20 vision of sorts
Unknown and foreign
You found your origins in a faraway land
Yet soon enough, you would break the barriers of
Race, class, religion, and international borders
YEAH! You’re indiscriminate
Lock down, shut down and shortages
A daily struggle we endured
The knowledge of your existence, coupled with fear
Put the world on notice that we were in control of NOTHING
You wrestled even the healthiest to their breaking point
Them now depending on machines to inhale and exhale
You took the weakest and oldest, showing no mercy
Masks, gloves, tissue, sanitizer; even Lysol and Clorox
Became luxury items
Almost two years later
Vaccinations, side effects and still, MASKS
Are a daily reminder that
Covid made it’s way to every point of the world
And still; we are in control of NOTHING
December 30, 2021
Contest: Coronavirus (COVID-19) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Robert James Liquori
Today I feel a furious intensity
About two years, ago
Family members would always love to share
The news about the passing of someone
Either from the village, or someone, I once knew
I remember during our conversations; I would tense up
And asked of them not to called and give me bad news
Death is a daily reminder,
right up there on our calendars
When I was away, my neighbor
Call and told me, that someone was
Outside my door, all dress in black banging on my door
Right away my thoughts were
The Angel of Death, looking for me...
During these pandemics' day, he is all over the place
Like an Amazon Prime van, outnumbered by UPS trucks,
While the world is being shut down,
Some of the people, refused to give a rat ass
They still refusing the vaccines
Protecting themselves, or worried about this thing call death
Death will clinch us all, poets always write about it
As they convey things that other forms of expression can’t. Quote:
A man with outward courage dares to die; a man with inner courage dares to live. Lao Tzu
My motto for today is live each day as if it's your last.
T’is like yesterday you left the stage
Just like that you turned the page
A story you left untold
For me to tell the world
You nurtured me so well
Spoiled me enough, for me to tell
Always ready to change my mood
Sewed, knitted and served up tasty food
Gifted hands you certainly had
Anything less than perfect, would drive you mad
What did I take from you, Mother mine?
Faith, hope and love, very fine
Your crochet and patchwork quilts remain
A daily reminder of your industrial train
Life without you is certainly not the same
Eight years gone and back, you never came
I thank God for giving me you, for a Mother
I would never wish for another
You gave me love, so much
You taught me how, the world to touch
calamine lotion
phisohex soaks, itchy ooze
poison ivy hell
~ ~ ~
Johnson's Paste Wax (floors)
wooden spoon on knuckles: smack!
wash dishes. repeat.
~ ~ ~
round dent in hall wall
from my head... demonstrative
daily reminder
~ ~ ~
recurring nightmares
chased, wolf snapping at my back
there is no escape
~ ~ ~
bare skin, willow whips
forced to eat raw onions
run away? tried. failed.
~ ~ ~
when company came
She laughed and called me her maid.
never good enough
~ ~ ~
fingernails pinch ear
dragged down hall: Make your bed right!
childhood memories
The stars come out tonight.
Do you see the ones I do?
That starlit, divine connection
When our DNA magically combined,
Dancing in harmonic coordination.
I can feel your hands in mine so
strong and able!
And I am 29 once again,
Your soft, sweet hurricane.
Putting my key in the door lock..
Laughing as your arms encircle me.
Off flew my shoes, keys rapidly
tossed on the table!
Heading for a future on the couch.
Thank God, there was no cable!
And I? Was so wonderfully, lost.
Eros inspired, as were you!
Both of us willing and more than able.
I, so terribly breathless!
My dancing, sparkling eyed lover, you!
I was absolutely yours for the taking,
And, oh, how well, you knew that.
We walk in our daughter today...
Compassionate, terrifically loving.
How she literally shines of you!
A chromosomatic daily reminder of
The same music still playing,
That memorable night of Agape Mou!
Panagiota Romios
3/7/2019
The sun yawns in the horizon as it flutters its eyes
Honey – yellow, orange, and shades of red
as it goes into a deep slumber as the moon awakes in the skies.
Heaven vast upon the seas
a pellet of darkest blue violet to a dark inky storm,
Shearwater skim closes the waves in flight by the breeze.
While angels weave and caress in loving warmth
of strength and comfort, an unconditional loving squeeze.
Our Earthly home
Our paradise,
Our Eden,
Our heaven.
A place full of sadness
A place of happiness
A daily reminder
A promise
Heavenly Angels protect,
Meant to be kept for eternity.
Lighting forks across the night skyline,
the rumble of thunder sounds around.
Angels pure of love and where they're most abound.
They're always nigh an angelic sign.
12/30/2017
Cold silver encircles my throat
hard and unforgiving and engraved
the weight, a daily reminder
and the inscription telling me that
my value lies at zero, free for taking.
Property.
It rests now at the bottom of the sea.
Tightly woven cord encircles my throat
the colours of he and I and made
by his hand as a daily reminder
that my value has no figure high enough, cost beyond measure.
Gift.
I am folded into the scent of his embrace.
I’m not mature??Who ever said I was mature?
Twenty years old being told everyday that I’m not perfect
I’m not pigeonholed so leave me out of your doubt that I know who I am
Know that I'm not perfect and I don't need a daily reminder.
You're not funny and I'm not amused.
Let me work on me
It’s been a long road
my whole life I’ve been left out in the cold
mocked and pushed
I’ll strain to be the man I am
but ?I don’t need your reminder
I don’t need your constant belittlement
I’m not a child but I know I’m not yet a true man
I’ll find my way
I’ll be the man I want to become
Your constant deprecation doesn’t bring to light any realization,
prophecy, or new nirvana to my life
be the friends you say you are
Because I don’t need a daily reminder that I’m not at my destination yet
I already know I’m miles from where I started
Picture by Pinterest
My Journey in Christ
~*~
I wasn’t forced to follow Christ, I Decided it,
I don’t worship to hear my voice,
I worship because He deserves it.
I don’t read his word because it is
A story I read it because it is true.
I love my God, and I won’t ever
deny it to anyone, for any reason.
I read in Isaiah 41:10
So do not fear, for I am with you;
Do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my
Righteous right hand.
Did you know never once in the Bible
Does is say,” You buddy go figure it out.”
However, the phrase
“Do not be afraid”
Is written in Bible 365 times.
That a daily reminder from God of His
Love, to live every day being fearless.
Sometimes God’s blessings are not
In what He gives; but in what he takes away.
Like our sins though Jesus His Son!
He must have really loved us to done that;
To give His Son for our wicked ways
Man that is real love!
Steve L. Siegel
February 9,2016
-Escape of the mountain-
Do you care about my breast?
The new curve - countryside corset
The beauty of every summer dress
Laying down, wearing out gravity
Embracing the same feeling;
Your hands indulged in
Passion and devotion
around perfumed scenery
The perfect pair
Today we will pray,
Counting every second on the clock
No longer the womanly figure before'
I will possess a new battle,
around the virtues of my palace.
Will you still be there,
when the hump and lump are gone?
Will I still be the queen of your heart?
Patiently I shall wait and see
in hopes to gain the time breast cancer stole
Leaving behind torn tissue, with a daily reminder of;
The one that got away.
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