Load Poems | Examples

A Load of Gold

A Load of Gold,

Carrying a heavy load, 
Walking down this winding road, 
A burden holding the gold, 
A treasure that I hold, 
As I am anchored in what's true, 
The weight of the world's view, 
Comes crashing over you.  
What can I really do? 
All my words carry it through, 
The other part is up to you, 
Believe in something new, 
Let go of what you think you knew, 
A stew of energy, 
Carrys through everybody, 
Aconnection worth the study, 
It's going to get muddy, 
Find a buddy to talk to, 
As you walk through your true you, 
It feels like a burden to, 
It's something you'll get use to.  
Everything you see, 
Comes from you.

Summer Winds

                         Summer Winds

Amidst strong winds, John was treading the road
Carrying on his back a heavy load,
It was a pitiful sight 
To brave the wind in such plight:
When load fell down, it showed a bag of toads!

My load burdens me

Trying to keep up but the load keeps me sinking, everyday a new struggle arise, my strength fail to keep up, the demand so high, running out of breath, while on my knees trying to pray.

Dismantling blows, from every direction, all aimed at fracturing my spirit, but still hope in the unknown, comforting my struggle. Snooping around for help, where none avails, my hopeless persuit.

Thought Earth was fun to be but mountains in my way, keep escalating, sometimes light in my tunnel run off with my strength, look for objects to lean on but all I have are these blade shoulders of mine, all as casualties from my survival war.

Trying to nurse my faith, the pressure sitting in so strong, breath in my lungs delapitates, beeping sound of my pulse, waving in dissipating sequences. This coffin I was brought to Earth in and today is not yet the day I give in.

 All I'm is a child of the soil but this soil try all means to consume the last of my least presence, if dust demand me back, never shall my struggle claim this victory

SWANA Zion Reich and Load

The cradle of three of the biggest faiths
Rocked by the claim one agenda stakes

Locked and loaded and ready for war
With righteous blessings for terror and gore

Sentiments civilities and landscapes pitted
All of human decency finally outwitted

The Load

Life is about learning to carry our load
And weaving the threads of our path 
For, the world is so profound and broad 
And we can't build a glory out of wrath 

We must learn to be still and chill out 
For, in comfort, fairly well, we can think 
And to wipe all the shadows of doubt 
For, success lies afar from those who blink 

We must learn to take charge of our own 
Without blaming others for our wrong 
We must learn to hone hard our stone
And choose wise where we really belong 

"What we really need to learn as humans is to take responsibility for ourselves."

Heavy Load Poetrix

The unbearable burden
  of an empty life
an unsustainable weight

Factoring

There’s a feeling called
the drifting force
that makes you want
to shift your course
and find a better vector
on boring study nights.

They’re so many things
a girl starts missing,
like hugging, dancing
and oh, yes kissing,
when she lets a dry syllabus
control her life.

After several hours
of intensive reading,
your intuition is that
what you’re needing,
is something we’ll
politely call ‘delights’.

But you make the almost
painful choice
and factor out your inner voice
and you pick up yet another book
and not a boy,
because, you see - it’s really
a necessity, not a choice.

Old Man With a Heavy Load

An old man plods slowly down the rutted middle
Of an ancient dusty country lane, unmindful of his steps.
His calloused sandaled feet know the way,
As he has trodden this path to market for decades,
Or centuries perhaps,
He no longer tries, or cares, to remember.
Time has lost all meaning.
Bowed beneath the heavy weight of years and toil,
He wears the mantle of his life,
Not proudly as he once did in his hopeful youth,
But now the way he bears his cumbersome burden
Of broken limbs and sticks and twigs,
With a resigned and weary sadness as immutable and maimed
As the arthritic stumps and knees of old cypress trees,
Or countless other old withered and withering men
Like him.


Author's note: This piece, dear readers, was inspired by "Man with a Sack of Wood", a sketch by Vincent van Gogh.

Hitch the Old Mule and Load the Harvest Cart

Hitch The Old Mule And Load The Harvest Cart

Across the plains a bad ole murky mess
Unites in its quivering tears apart
And the bashful bride dares not that confess
As she knows for sure it would break his heart
Bloated bodies bend with such dusky chills
And the ill cast weather leaves what it starts
Grandpa cries, "Hon' bring me my little pills"
Hitch the old mule and load the harvest cart
Watch the red moon and its wide flaming rings
Crow knows the tiger will eat anything
And the fairies dance their proud lovers swing
While the farmer's wife wakes early to sing
Dawn rises and its glory proudly displays
Cheating gambler faces well-earned pay!

Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet,
May 12th 1972

A Load Of

Families have their own quirky sayings
That tend to continue throughout generations
Said for many emotions 
Or just in general conversation

“What  a load of Codswallop”
“Or what a load of  Cods”
A saying in my family
“Codswallop” not so odd!

It means what a load of rubbish
Though many of you may already know
I’m writing a load of Cods right now
So time for me to go …..

Lost Esteem

I am beginning to reckon
That to Miss Tracy I beckon
I permit to my image ruin
With the strength of the rains of June;
In the end self-esteem erode
And parts of my flesh corrode
And Miss Tracy lavishly goad
To balance on my shoulders load
I should see its rubbishy content
To delay not a vile intent…

I’m now some cycle Tracy rode,
For which like river she had flowed;
Thunderous laughter did explode.

Heavy Load

Mistakes have been made in life unfixable most of the time hopefully learn from.     Thoughts in your mind going over and over wondering what if I did this or what if I did that.
Still I scream, cry I'm so so worthless .                                                                                        When I try harder than ever before I still fall.                            
Wishing I could eventually fix it all.
Yet knowing I can't.
A burning in my heart for my kids.                                                                                                    
My love life my whole world I'd do anything to go back pay more attention and hold on dearly to their precious lives.                                                                                                                     Time missed as I watched them grow.                                                                                           Only praying that my love is strong enough that one day they'd come home.                 
Athough I still got to forgive myself,until then I'll carry this burden,My heavy load.That I caused yet my kids paid the price.

Bored

I am feeling bored, 
Like a toad. 
Can't stop being lazy, 
When I love to be clumsy.
Guess I will just complete my work and reduce the load.

20/7/22

What a Load

I wrote an Ode to the commode
what a relief, what a load.

John G. Lawless
5/10/2022

To Lighten the Load

A self-learned means I follow
Though I am not god Apollo;
To those who approach me with ills,
Of psychic nature those slow-kills...

I talk less; make them to pour out,
All in their hearts; that turn them lout;
Within deepest oceans of pain,
That they might soon true freedom gain...

They go back optimism-lighted.
I remain amply delighted.
My work, though, visibly too small,
Lightens loads; saves many from fall...!


09 May 2022 
To lighten the load Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Angela Tune

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