The voice within, a whisper bruised,
Fights the noise the world has used
To carve a man from primal bone
To cage the beast, to leash the lone.
The mind, a mat where wars unfold,
Instincts wild, but nurtured cold.
They tame him not with chains or rods,
But with applause and wooden Gods.
He wears the mask, rehearsed and tight,
Performs by day, forgets by night.
Painted smiles, a jester’s role
Each laugh, a wounded soul.
Temptation hangs like a golden fruit,
But plucked, it tastes of ash and soot.
He dances for a wage, a name,
A line in ledgers, rank and fame.
Rituals rot in daily spin,
A prayer to clocks, a suit for sin.
Validation, the new divine,
Poured like wine to numb decline.
Frustration bubbles, seeks escape,
But lids get screwed in human shape.
No scream escapes the echo’s hold,
The cage is warm, the bars are gold.
A one-way street with silent bends,
From cradle’s cry to coffin ends.
And what shall grace his stone in sleep?
“He lived to please. He died too deep.”
After Angella Voras-Hills
fallen green apples here and there
at a dead end, the yard is
where in the story lies an
ending, the life I lead an illusion
a collage along the road of
broken houses bathed in light
a quiet moment, a lament when
the day bleeds into colors
and all my realities and dreams connect
There is an illusion of light when the colors connect.
from an Angela Voras-Hills poem.
(Golden Shovel Form)
At the end of the day
How do you feel?
Are you ok?
Can you sleep peacefully?
If so, good for you.
Because at the end of the day
I'm in pain
And i stay awake until my demons give me peace
But they never do
At the end of the day
Where do you see yourself
Dead or alive?
Happy or sad?
Are you lonely?
Are you your worst enemy ?
Or do you go to sleep filled with dreams of hope and laughter
Cause i don't
I fell asleep hoping i'll wake up someone else
Tell me
What's your worst fear at the end of the day
Is it that it's going to rain tomorrow?
Or is it that I hope the rain in my head will go away?
At the end of the day?
At the end of the day it seems
I know more than I knew in the morning
The daytime reality fades into dreams
The dreams disappear with no warning
It all boils down to the evening
Just one more evening to bear
Since one certain day it’s a different feeling
Cause you are no longer there
So what do I know? Not much
The other people know better
I know you are out of touch
And there won’t be a new letter
A new message, a new phone call..
I don’t know how to bear the evening!
And the end of the day time falls
Comes the night, with updated grieving.
It's funny, the random things that remind you
of what a lovely place the world can sometimes be.
Like two little birds alighting on a wire,
as you emerge from the underground
just at dusk on a Thursday:
two weightless silhouettes,
suspended in the pre-star sky.
I wonder what journeys they've seen;
if they are recounting the day's adventures,
or merely resting in companionable silence
as the sun takes its final bow.
put up my feet and tune out
my favourite music in the background
forget the daily grind
no worries no busy mind
brush free the day's cobwebs
smile to myself and relax
shake off the weight of the world
AP: Honorable Mention 2024
At the end of the day
I'm still at the same place
At the end of the day
I'm still wishing to rewrite the stars
At the end of the day
I couldn't befriend the odds
You never know
If we could go on forever
You never know
where the bright lights hide
You never know
If we could ever reach the magical jungle
It finally ended
And there's no looking back
It finally ended
But not my wishes and ambition
It finally ended
But some of those people never changed
This end is actually a new journey
And you've got no reason to be afraid
So this time, embrace the unknown
And get ready to dive in the sea of possibilities
The final score
always left wanting, regretting
much metaphorical bed-wetting.
The cross-over to the beginning
is as swift as molasses.
Mental heels drag,
pointlessly
we ran out of points to make
too soon.
At the very end is the redirect start line -
bang! Go,
not rats racing
just facing up to the concrete
ceilings
we plastered over only yesterday
and yesterday now will always remain
an 'end of the day' question mark,
another part-written poem
we know we will not complete
by the end of this day
or any other.
When the day is ended and it is time for bed,
and I lay my head down, I sigh with tears;
I am so, so grateful to still be healthy.
when thousands have died in the world.
I am doing everything I can to stay save,
isolating inside, getting groceries delivered;
medications delivered, wearing a mask,
washing my hands over and over and over.
I wonder how long this pandemic will last,
and what kind of world will we have after;
I find that I am changing to in my thinking,
being an introvert has helped me to cope.
I write a lot, draw and paint daily, ponder,
find new recipes in cook books to try out;
read a lot, watch movies, just rest and plan,
because one day I will wake to a new world.
________________________
January 25, 2021
Poetry/Verse/At The End of the Day
Copyright Protected, ID 01-1323-687-25
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep,
sponsor, Craig Cornish, Judged 01/01/2021
The end of the day
Beginning of the evening
On into the night…
My work still not done
Leftovers for tomorrow
It goes on and on…
Stuff to do at home
Chores and more to take care of
Never enough time…
Time of real substance
Spent in ease and calm repose
Comforts mind and soul…
Fix something to eat
Relax in your easy chair
Watch some good TV…
Recharge batteries
Renew spirit, interest
To see things anew…
To hail and welcome
Feel content and satisfied
The end of the day.
The sun is setting on another day
Another hard grind it's just the way
I see the colours up in the sky
Pinks and purples, orange all beautiful by design
I sit and watch at this wonderful aspect of life
I see the moon readying itself
To shine a light now the sun has gone down
I am awaiting stars to appear up in the sky
I am awe struck by the up and coming night
And I see amazing things through my sight
And relishing the delight of everything.
Here I sit and dwell on a hillside
And all is well
Meditating on the combining night
Breathing in nature
And breathing out love
Breathing in goodness
Breathing out light
Seeing the universe
Created by my mind
Living this glorious life defined
By the duality of dark and light
Of sunlight and moonlight
Of day and night
It's time too appreciate this night and life.
This crimson afternoon is getting late
with evening shadows growing ever long.
The sun is knocking loud at nighttime’s gate
as nature’s choir is singing evening’s song.
The western sky is painted coral hues
as day surrenders to the evening dusk,
and daylight slowly starting to diffuse
while giving way for darkness to unhusk.
In emerald treetops birds begin to roost,
as golden harvest moon comes into view.
The sun descends as night is introduced,
and coral sky fades to a midnight blue.
When daylight’s final breath gives up a sigh,
and puts an end to nature’s bright ballet;
like yellow diamonds twinkling in the sky,
with eagerness, the stars come out to play.
July 23, 2018
i am tired
the day was long
and i did
nothing
nothing from the things
i had to do
i am happy
the day was full
and i did
a lot
a lot of the things
i liked to do
i am tired
the day was good
cause i did
i have done
what made me
happy
At the end of the day,
The sun shines its light;
The rain stops pouring,
As shown by rainbow's delight.
At the end of the day,
After the long journey;
Storms of life weathered
Submit to a moment of glory.
At the end of the day,
Begins the victory parade;
Sweet success is shining
Through our sacrifices made.
At the end of the day,
Sadness shall disappear;
Aches dwelled in the heart
Shall fade for us, my dear.
Let's start all over again,
Let's do it, don't delay;
Our love remains the same
At the end of the day.
THE END OF THE DAY
Every split of second, there are many new-born and many passed-away
Life is continual ups and downs, on and off, what's the right way?
Do you hear the silence of the noisiest parties to decay
All of what we know of will disappear like the end of the day
Tr?n Minh Hi?n Hien Tran Orlando September 15, 2016
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