Long Give it a rest Poems
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Give Yourself a Break
Come on, it’s time. Give it a rest
and stop beating yourself up
about things that are over and done with
when you know you did the best you could.
He’s gone now and you miss him,
and you think you were this, that or the other,
not patient enough, you were selfish,
you didn’t go on his walks with him
and you let him go by himself sometimes
when he had to struggle so to do it.
You went out to a poetry group at night
and left him when you should have
stayed at home with him for company.
You spent too much time with household
chores and sometimes by yourself writing.
He was the one with the health problems,
trouble walking, falling sometimes
when you weren’t there, and he never complained.
Now you look back and blame yourself
when you know, yes, you know,
if you just allow yourself, that you
did the best you could.
It was years that you took care of him,
encouraged him, helped him dressa
and walk, put up the metal ramp
when he went outside and wheeled
him to the car, put the chair in the car,
took him to appointments, got him
into the wheelchair and reversed the way home.
You washed him and changed the bed and
cooked what he liked and watched television
with him and really did give up things
you loved to do and tried to get him to
go out to events you thought he’d like.
Yes, you could be short, maybe impatient
sometimes, and said some things
you wish you hadn’t said.
Give yourself a break. You’re human
and not perfect. Remember how many times
he thanked you for all you did for him.
Remember the good times -
how many times you were gentle with him,
tried to encourage him, hugged him
and told him how much you loved him;
the nights you came down in the night
because he needed help, and you
always told him you didn’t mind,
that you’d go right back to sleep;
hours and days sitting in the hospital
waiting for him to get better enough
to come back home again.
So stop purposely wallowing
in a misery of your own making
and take back your good sense.
Remember the love.
I am sitting here with my pen
Wondering what to write
Don’t want to think of the topic
Or the subject of love tonight
Some say I write about love to much
It’s in most of my poems
Some thinks it’s my own emotions
And I pure my feelings into them
Yes some times to write a poem
You have to put your heart into it
And then fiction and reality blends
Like a colorful sweater being knit
When any one read my poems
I like to leave them thinking after
So I write from many sides of life
Fill with tears, love and laughter
So today I won’t write about love
I think I will give it a rest
There are a lot more important topics
Maybe I can try to address
But the only thing that comes to mind
Is the woman that I’m crazy about?
Her beautiful smile, her starry eyes
And sweet voice from her cute mouth
My heart melts every time I see her
And like a wave she swept me away
And she glows brighter than the moon
Over the beautiful maracas bay
Oh sorry, I’m writing about love again
It’s just so hard to not think of her
But Let me stop this poem now
And get a next sheet of paper
Maybe I will write a song
With a nice melody to get you hook
And look for some pictures for it
And later post on face book
Or I could write about la romaine
By my cousins teddy, bobby and daughter
Hanging out, playing cricket and football
And helping my aunt sell by the cinema
Or about our times in Indian trail
Going in the bush for grapefruit to eat
Or when all the kids come to marabella
To spend holidays on ramsamooj street
Or write about learning tailoring
By ram mohess tailoring on Lord Street
And when ram send me by takoor, s
To buy bake and beef for the workers to eat
And its where I meet my best friends
Derek, jacks, Carl, gangadeen
Then Derek stop going to parties
Join Hare Krishna and shave his head clean
But I can’t stop thinking of her
And I just want to write of the love I feel
And I will blend in fiction with reality
So no one can tell which part is real
Sick & Tired
Living my life is not an easy breeze.
I have strong winds,
Cold winds & even longs winds, you see.
I’m getting sick of the wind that
Blows against my face,
The storms that begin on a raining day.
I’m tired of the fight I’m putting up with.
I’m sick & tired of dealing with it!
Maybe I should just give it a rest,
Or is this life showing its real self?
Walking this earth like I’m a perfect girl,
I have pains you never even seen before.
You could never compare to my shame.
They’re sick of hearing me cry in pain,
And I’m tired of them being the reason why.
I’m sick & tired of dealing with it!
Maybe I should just give it a rest.
Or is it them showing me they can careless?
Talking to people who I think is listening,
But all they’re doing is judging me like I’m pointless.
I’m sick of not knowing who to trust.
And I’m tired of not being the friend that I could.
I have a heart but it’s only this big (].
I can’t always be the friend you always need.
But I’m sick & tired of dealing with it!
Maybe I should just give it a rest,
Or are my friends testing me to see if I pass?
Thinking about the people I love,
And wondering if they been through this path I have came upon,
Did they make it through all the way to the end, and last?
Were they tired of the hurt or pain that came so fast?
Or were they sick of being the one who always cared?
Were they sick & tired of dealing with it?
Maybe they were just stronger than me.
Or is this me growing up again.
I have to handle the world in my own hands.
My life is not an easy breeze,
I’m walking this earth being me.
Talking to people that will listen,
Thinking about the love that’s glistening.
Wondering if someone would save me through this path,
But I realize I was strong enough to pass!
I was sick & tired of dealing with it,
But I didn’t rest until I finished it.
Form:
It is good to be a fool once in a while,
What an extraordinary feeling to be a fool!
To know nothing,
To know everything,
Yet not convincing your heart—The most brilliant buffoon,
Letting your heart float like a boat
Without an anchor
In the middle of a lake illuminated by the half moon that looks like a piece fallen from something ethereal,
Vision yourself in that boat, dear reader,
Doing nothing but just letting that moon’s love
Lurk on your lips
While you yearn earnestly
With your eyes closed like the petals of a timid lotus,
I encourage you to be a fool with me.
The river of reverie might reduce the roughness of abrasive reality of existence,
The vastness,
The long blank whiteness of life—
The 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s
Of age are indeed agitating,
Colorless at times,
There are rainbows too,
But mostly it's white, serene and quite like a pearl or a marble.
Some people ensnare their hearts,
They think heart is some petty prisoner,
But when the boon of life comes to an end
The truth hits them in the chest
And the chains ensnaring the heart
Come gushing down with a roar like a waterfall,
Sudden and loud.
Chained hearts often become hoarse hazards,
Chained and always chasing,
But chasing what
You never know.
Heart is a bird,
A brave one
Like all birds,
But let me remind you something, dear reader,
Do you ever notice the birds looking at the sky and singing soft melodies,
The melodies they don't sing when they are soaring high in the sky?
Birds need a bower too to rest and rejuvenate,
They don't have to adorn an armour on their chiselled chest all the time,
It's just not natural,
It doesn't seem right,
So take my hand and come be a fool with me
Or just be a bird and fly freely.
Your soul is nesting your heart,
Let down the gloomy guard,
Nurture the nest
And give it a rest.
YES DEAR!
I have here an old solution
For conflict resolution
Not to mention domestic pollution
I say 'Yes Dear!'
When the situation is tense
With a subject like pounds and pence
To avoid sitting on the fence
I say 'Yes Dear!'
Though I sometimes feel sure I'm right
And would argue my point all night
That would really seal my plight
I confess Dear!
So winning my point I'll eschew
Won't debate 'til my face turns blue
I'll admit what you say is true
- More or less Dear
Famous men throughout world history
Would avoid conjugal misery
If they'd just given in to Her plea
And said 'Yes Dear!'
Julius Caesar would have stayed serene
In the senate missed a nasty scene
When his wife said 'your chariot needs a clean'
He'd said 'Yes Dear!'
Harold might have continued as king
Sent William home without a thing
But he paused when his wife gave a ring
Said: 'I'm a bit pressed Dear!
MacBeth would avoid so much strife
And live out a peaceful life
If he'd put off his ambitious wife
With:'Give it a rest Dear!'
Prince Albert a faithful consort
Gave Victoria his total support
And nine children - a major export
Said 'Jawohl I do mein best Dear!'
Louis 16th got everything wrong
Made his exit quite short, not so long
Told his wife in a touching swan song
'Must get it off my chest Dear!'
The Iron Duke was in no mood for dallies
'Let's give those French a pain in their bellies'
But when his wife said:'You'd better wear your wellies'
Said: ‘By God! Yes Dear'
For myself, to fight would be absurd
I think conflict is just for the birds
And I know I'll always get the last words
Those being 'Yes Dear!'
3 March 2019
Make me actually LOL 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
There are some people, who think they have room to complain.
Because they are their own reapers, who want to take their lives away.
Well give it a rest! Atleast you have a life to live.
Live with nothing to look at, see how long you last then.
Try being so sick, of watching yourself breathe.
Only because this, is the only thing you ever ****ing see.
Try having day after day, clear skies turn into the night.
Needless to say, expressing the nothingness of your life.
Try being so alone, and its the only thing you'll ever know.
Oh, but she thinks she's hurt, because her boyfriend broke up with her.
He thinks he's alone, cause he was grounded for not coming home.
She thinks she should end it, cause she's 15 and got pregnant.
He thinks he's a victim, cause he didnt get the world for Christmas.
She thinks she should end it all, cause her boyfriend didnt call.
He says "Theres no point for me", cause he doesn't money for his weed.
She cuts away her wrists, because she didnt get her birthday wish.
He thinks his lifes over, cause he cant remain sober.
She thinks theres no point anymore, cause her "friends" call her a whore.
He's decomposing in his bed...........DEAD
because he had no one to keep him fed.
As some just want food, or to once embrace their family.
no matter what they do, their FORCED to live in agony.
And all some want,is to open thier eyes and see that they have a life to live.
Maybe even without purpose, but something to fill their minds with.
Lord forbid they get their help, or someone hear their pleeds.
Catered angels think they live in hell, "trapped" in a "dark reality"
Constantly seeking out validation,
You don’t have to know me,
But I wanna be your favourite.
I want you to like me so much, I hate it.
Share posts or tap to follow,
Get blocked and deleted, such a hard pill to swallow,
The lives are so full but inside they are hollow,
Love it and like it and give it a mention,
Can’t stand social media but love the attention!!!
Fakes, liars, people who cheat,
This holiday, that holiday and Turkey white teeth.
Ooh look at my kid, are they just the best?
Na mate, can’t ya just sit down and give it a rest?
Look at us. Aren’t we happy?
Plastering on smiles whilst changing the nappies,
Decked out in fresh designer clothes,
Whether they’re real or not you don’t have to know,
It’s never real it’s all just for show,
Mortgages and bills,
Never ending queues at the supermarket tills,
And when petrol prices go down we all get a thrill,
Get a TikTok on,
Think of the likes,
Scrolling through profiles of people you despise,
Cursing yourself and your sad little life,
Getting so frustrated you can’t help but cry,
Laid on the seatee wanting to die,
Can’t help but think “I want that to be mine”,
Whilst wanting nothing to do with it at the same time,
“Have you seen this on Facebook?”
“No I don’t go on it much.”
“But there’s a whole world you can access with your eyes or a touch”
Phone in hand and foot on clutch,
Send a Snapchat whilst driving cos they miss it so much,
Yet here we are again,
They blank you in person but online you are a friends,
And your ex has changed their profile picture again,
Hours of scrolling,
When does it end?
I thought of you last night
i was sitting out in the cold air
reminiscing about our first dare
Chris Brown take you down i think was the song
Up on the phone talking junk for GOD knows how long
I dont think i every told you this
but your sweet soft voice i always found to be bliss
From your heart warming laugh to the soothing sound of you breathing as you lay there
sleeping
Forgive me if i become to deep
but the mere essence of your heartbeat pumping blood through your beautiful body allowing
your lungs to contract and expand allowing you to breathe
always kept me up longing to be near you
to hold, to touch, to love...with every inch of my mind, body, and soul
promising to never let you go...
sad to say that was only a thought far from reality
because in actuality
you longed to be close to me
and all i did was let you down repeatedly
when subconsciously my feelings for you were deeper than i could have possibly ever
imagined
knocked out in a dead sleep deaf to the world or at least trying to be
waking up in the middle of the night just for you
even after ignoring the long distance calls from south germany
from when you thought you saw monkeys to the times you just couldnt sleep
your voice never failed to make me smile
i fell in love with you a long time ago
i just didnt know
i guess thats why i can never let you go
at least not in a literal sense
i really dont like feeling like this
but what can i do
scared of the answer i reframe from asking
convincing myself its for the best
ill give it a rest...
I love you always and forever
I tried to ignore you, but I miserably failed the test.
So, I'm posting this to unburden it from my chest.
It's in reply to your continual endeavor to protest
against those of us who enjoy writing for contests.
Why does it matter to you? Why are you obsessed
with our friendly competition? Just give it a rest!
You judge us and that's not worthy of being blessed.
Maybe to God, your reproach should be confessed.
I don't enter contests to be the Queen of Poetry Hill
That's really contemptible ink you choose to spill,
and your vinegary attitude is that of a pickle... a dill.
Can you find amiable words to write with your quill?
There are no cold poets here, but many feel your chill.
I took umbrage when you called PS a 'selfish place.'
That's simply not true, and it's totally not the case.
There's never been a justifiable reason to debase
us with what you wouldn't dare say face to face.
You wrote of friendship, so why don't you embrace
all poets, and do it with some semblance of grace?
You wrote that we should all be helpful and kind.
That's a bit hypocritical and it just blows my mind
each time you post lines with your same old grind...
contempt you have for contest poets you maligned.
Your prods are noticed because no one here is blind
to read what you write about us. You've been unkind.
God blesses us when we treat each other as brothers,
and that's the way you'd see us if I had my druthers.
If you claim that we should be a blessing to each poet,
then you should adjust your thinking, and you know it.
“I’m worried about losing my job!”
Stop it! Do it well. Do it the best you can.
Give it all you got – and if it ends, it ends.
“What if I can’t pay my bills?”
Can you pay them today? Then that’s okay.
You’ve got a place to stay. Live there today.
“What if my wife leaves me?”
Does she have reason to? Then don’t give her any.
Love her now while you can. Sometimes relationships end.
But why worry about that when it’s good now?
Your worrying might bring the end on somehow.
“What if…”
STOP.
STOP IT, I say.
By worrying about tomorrow you are ruining today!
What if, what if, what if…you know what they say about if’s,
If your Aunt was a man, she’d be your Uncle.
Give it a rest.
Living for today is best.
Look, what tomorrow brings tomorrow brings,
But you are missing all of the wonderful things
That are happening today by turning your hair gray
Worrying this way. You could just as easily say,
What if I win the lottery; What if my poems become famous;
What if my wife loves me more than any wife has ever loved before?
My advice to you…
Live for this moment, the one that’s here now, this very second, make it great some how.
If tomorrow brings sorrow or torment or pain,
At least you would have had this great moment – it won’t come by again.
Stop worrying about What if and start having fun with What now.
So give me a happy face and please, loose that scowl.
Entry in the In Search of the Human Mind contest.
Assignment: The importance of living in the moment
Honorable Mention