Long Overachiever Poems

Long Overachiever Poems. Below are the most popular long Overachiever by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Overachiever poems by poem length and keyword.


She Kisses Each Misty Eye

she kisses each misty eye
i look at the access from across the street
i am told to move along
i just listen to the waves and drown out modern normality

she kisses each misty eye
i pick up a beautiful seashell obviously dropped by an inspiring overachiever
i stare into space and pray to the heavens for my feet to sink in the sand
to my dismay, all i can do is write a poem about it
i am not an expert at it, but i try

she kisses each misty eye
i kiss her back and offer to buy her a chocolate candy apple
she says that she wants an elephant ear instead
i look around and tell her to use her imagination
she then replies to me saying 'let's drive around, silly'
with no choice and no delay, i simply say 'okay'
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member A Dragon Tale

In the Spring I am prone to fever,
all year I’m an overachiever;

Old library’s where I like to hang,
learning a bit more than urban slang;

Left to indulge infatuation,
I drown in whimsical fixation;

Free to discover a wondrous realm,
flipping a page now I’m at the helm;

With each photo of a distant land 
the gamut of reality is scanned;

Gleaned what I could it wasn’t enough,
I longed for lethal flames that would snuff;

One glance at myself in the window 
startled instantly by my shadow;

A pair of eyes that shine I perspire,
is that me just waiting to spew fire?

The reflection now hard to believe,
my inner beast sat covered in scales;
Suddenly I began to dry heave,
I was now fit to tell Dragon’s tales.
Form: Rhyme

Dear Heart

Dear Heart,
I’d like to file a formal complaint
It seems that your an obsessive overachiever
That you take your job a little to seriously

Dear Heart,
Please stop breaking yourself into a million little pieces-
Because you fall in love with ideas and hypotheticals
Because you color people before they can show you their true aura 

Dear Heart,
Why
Why do you find every crumbling transparent excuse for the world
But somehow you make yourself bleed 
Why can’t you put up a wall against the hailing obscenities 
Why can’t you knock down that wall for a genuine whisper

Dear Heart,
You were supposed to be a road map to happiness
But it seems I’m lost somewhere between I love you and I miss you
You are supposed to find contentment in success and lessons in failures
But you grasp for the next and the regret

Dear Heart,
I know your tired and broken
But Brain is telling me to tell you to stop crying 

Dear Heart,
I’m sorry I yelled at you 
I’m sorry I thought a bandaid was enough to fix you 

Dear Heart,
I know your Shattered-
But I promise I won’t lose the pieces

Proudly called a woman

The overachiever in me wishes I were born a man.

For some doors would open
without needing me to force them.
I could do as I pleased
without being asked,
"How do you expect to marry if you act like that?"

I would be reckless,
and they'd laugh,
"Boys will be boys."

But the empath in me
is grateful I was born a woman.

For society raises too many men
to mistake silence for strength,
to wound without remorse,
or to witness cruelty
and call it "not my problem."

And my heart
could never learn
to carry that.

So I will soar,
higher than every ceiling
they built for me.

And I will be proud
to call myself a woman.

For it is no small feat.

Premium Member Not My Brand

That's all science fiction was ever about.
   Hating the way things are, wanting to make things different.
RAY BRADBURY, "No News, or, What Killed the Dog?"

NOT MY BRAND

like being caught with a pack
where authority makes you smoke
one and all.

i read...i read...i read
some more

my workplace, my home.
their stare has followed me home
yes, i must confess

i’m an overachiever,
believe it or not —
given a task,

Waldo, i’ll find you.

i drink Dandelion Wine
until i die —
life and death,
sick to death
of dying.

i sop up Soup
with crusts of bread
cannot waste
a single drop.

i read...i read...i read
some more

and Holy Scripture
the great bounty of crimson words,
the red thread pricks
my articulating tongue.

i read...i read...i read
some more

on the back burner—
Blackout,
which i might —
had a hard time figuring
out which genre’s not my favorite,

whaaaat?
had to ask my husband
from a list,
what do you think, soooo

we came up with Science Fiction.
but
you
never
know

it might just be the read i need it to be.

i read...i read...i read
some more

on the chair, on the floor,
the writing on the wall.

i might just be sick
~ of books ~
when i finally
power walk into the library,
slick.

because there’s always
another book or poem or verse
to smoke, so

i light up my face
and read and read and read
some more.

3/25/2020


Between the lines of you

The first time I met you ,
You were shy and insecure ,
Insecure because of this hypocrite world , 

But when you crack me open ,
Words of pride leak through 
Overflow to describe my world 
My world of just you

I do remember that one underconfident, overachiever girl ,
Feeling guilty to feel safe,to feel heard.

The first time you confided ,
You were scared , 
scared of judgement of this distinguished world 

I have noticed ,
she uses her cursed blessing, her rhyme
In hopes that someday, someone would understand that fine wine

Now, I know she's me
SHE IS MINE
not because she belongs to me
but because she is the moon to my shore
the rythm to my rhyme
the story of my time
she, she is the hope of my dream
and ooh god I wish
I wish I be the voice of her scream

You know there was a time in her life
When she thought she had lost herselt while alive
she thought that she could never be loved until until she saw me beside

Me not only fulfilling her needs
but building her the safe kingdom she desired the kind of shore my little girl admired

You know I thought nothing could ever break me, until 
her story had a day when she said
'I lost me'

I broke that day
when I learnt how her bright smile faded in 2022-23

She thought no one would ever learn her
But ooh god she's mistaken
for I read her like my favourite book 
And not even a single puncutation is overlooked And now I know her like I know me

And now she is mine.
not own, but to hold.
She is now my favourite book
and still, I turn every page with love

No Paragons of Perfection

We were born to be real, not to be perfect
Only one Child was given life, innocent at birth
Everyone else was born with a flaw, or a defect
and walks upon this planet called, Mother Earth

If any of us continually strive for perfection,
we face a destiny to live quite disappointed
and foolishly heading in the wrong direction.
Humans are not born as one of the anointed.

So don't be a pragmatist or even a worrywart
Being an overachiever will cause you heartache
Enjoy days of leisure and don't give it a thought
that being a paragon offers a means of escape.



            ********************
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Survival Tips for Recovering Cynics

One:
Wake up slowly.
Admit it was never that deep.
Let your first word be hmmm.
Let your second be whatever.

Two:
Stretch, but not like you mean it.
Pop one joint, then stop.
You are not an overachiever.
You’re alive. That’s enough.

Three:
Brew something hot
and unnecessarily complicated.
Call it process.
Sip. Sigh.
Spill a little on purpose.

Four:
Reintroduce yourself
to color.
Start with gray.
Work up to a muted mustard.
No pressure.

Five:
Trust nothing that smiles too easily.
Except maybe dogs.
And one cashier
who says you’re all set
like she means it.

Six:
Throw out the list you made 
of everyone who owes you.
Keep the one you made
of whom you survived—
remember who survived you.

Seven:
Don’t look for closure.
Just check your teeth for spinach
when you think you ate,
and get on with it.

Dreamweaver

There is a sense of wonder in your eyes
I can't understand your marvelous cries 
I am surprised by your approval to let me go... I thank you wholeheartedly, you know? 
I'm left in pieces in the woods of my mind and I hear the midnight crow

I'm a dreamweaver, tracing the auras of the eclipse 
I'm facing my nightmare with much bravery in a bittersweet glimpse
I'm starting to grow fond of you, 
Even if you are a dream come true
I'm starting to be attached to you, 
Although we've parted ways out of the blue

I smile at the sand of the sea as my hopes never grow dry 
I wave at the birds, taking wing
I nod at the sun in the sunny sky
I admire the scenery before my eyes as I gracefully sing

So terrified by the whistling wind of the west
I'm trying my best to pass life's difficult test
It's getting harder and harder to see the bright side
Something tells me not to worry, for I'm on God's ride

I take a bow at the sunset before me
I am in awe as I see the night approaching
I take a swim into the waters of vitality
I am willing to dive deep into the waves that are leaping

I am a true dreamweaver
I have become a believer
I'm sure my future isn't a blur
I will endure this hardship for sure

There is a cure to the pain and sadness of life
There is a Savior that will set us free from mere strife
I know that life is so unkind sometimes 
We just got to have faith, even in dark times

I'm waiting for the moonlit stars to shine their lights on me
I'm praying for a time when chaos and corruption will fade away
I'm staying right here next to you until the end of time takes place
I'm figuring out the footprints that lead to your gracious face

I'm an angelic dreamweaver 
I was made to be a believer
I'm a genie that grants three wishes to the overachiever 
I'm enjoying the thrills of life's bizarre experiences that knock me over

I'm a splendid daydreamer
In the wintery nights, flowing with elegant coffee and creamer
I'm a long-suffering believer
In the shadows of the light, glowing with satisfaction and pleasure
Form: Rhyme

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