Long Responsibilities Poems
Long Responsibilities Poems. Below are the most popular long Responsibilities by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Responsibilities poems by poem length and keyword.
Children playing in the park,
Laughing, swinging, running 'round,
Their rambunctious antics leave their mark,
On adults that relish their joyful sound.
Laughing, swinging, running 'round,
The children have no fears or cares.
By responsibilities they are not bound,
And they are covered by angels' prayers.
The children have no fears or cares,
Their only job right now to play,
On their own, in groups or pairs,
Enjoying this fun-filled summer's day.
Their only job right now to play,
Their rambunctious antics leave their mark.
Enjoying this fun-filled summer's day,
Children playing in the park.
6/29/21
Brian Strand's (July 16)
Young love is easy
Wild and hot,
Getting and giving
From bottom to top.
All of your attention,
Best manners and smiles,
Flowers and perfume
Sweet smelling for miles.
Shirts and dresses starched,
Cleaned and pressed,
Hair-do’s and manicures
Take care of the rest.
Young love is easy
As apple pie
But love gets tougher
As the years roll by.
Once we’ve taken
Those wedding vows
Life quickly changes
Everything somehow.
No more hopping
Into back seat games,
Spending all your cash
On your hottest flame.
And no more running
With the good ‘ol guys
As responsibilities hit us
Between the eyes.
As the years grow longer
Love grows too
But not as easy
As when love was new.
Separation and sickness
Knock us down –
Disappointments and heart aches
Round after round.
The loss of loved ones
Near and dear
Make us weary and worn
Year after year.
Money gets tight
And the house needs repairs,
And children need attention
When you’re not there.
Then our bodies start to bend
And slowly break
So we cling to one another
No matter what it takes.
Because young love is easy
And old love is not,
But at the end of our hours
It’s all we’ve got.
when we are young
we want to be older
be independent
be able to do what the big kids do
when we hit that independent age you want to be a kid again
but what really changes
you still have to follow rules
you get freedom but not as much freedom as you thought
growing up mistakes are made
forgive but do we forget
growing up means more responsibilities
you cant just buy whatever you want
man i wish i was a kid again
back then i could let my imagination run wild
but now its childish and i need to grow up
back then i hated taking naps
now thats all i need
kids want to be adults but adults want to be children again
i wouldn't change one thing
what if i didn't do that project
what if i got into that fight
what if everything was different
would i be here today
man i wish i was a kid again
to feel the joy
to be home
to be young
to not worry
to imagine
man i wish i was a child again
Some ghost in peoples mind need to control,
every aspect of circumstance to enroll.
The raging spirit in constant demand to chase illusion,
with sweet words, drama and phony conclusion.
The fear of not being in charge by all means,
destroys all good attention in short coming’s not seen.
Hidden fragile uncertainties covered by shallow believe,
creating painful structures with no relief.
Destinies beatitude pointed towards all direction,
chained to the source of this infection.
The perjuries towards the illusion of freedom,
is the constant rising of another millennium.
The catastrophic ripple effect towards the relative,
by poor judgments sensed has competitive.
Megalomania is the belief of power abilities regardless,
shallow emotional intellect performed by ruthless charges.
Powerful and admirable pictures are usually the point,
questioning others towards responsibilities being a ‘disappoint’.
The dragon of false illusion has many heads,
taken others credit and values as alphabet.
Mystic pseudonyms is the fire in the oxygen,
riding the beast of burden to the melancholic dungeon.
Slowly,
The air fills with blue, and the greens catch fire
The hammerlight of Summer
With little mouse-steps,
Steals off into apricity.
I divide my days
Between wine and responsibilities
As a child divides his
Between play and obedience.
The time itself, at its best,
Is wine to me,
Full of light and flavors
Vying for my attention.
The aptly named Sept/ember
Ignites itself against the skies;
Sets my soul asmolder
The inspiration I have begged and badgered
To arrive, does so at last
By its own rule, on its own clock
In the deep of the night
While I should be asleep.
I awake,
Dreams close behind my shoulder,
And find myself at this crossroads,
Inexorably older.
Spring's warm sun arouses mother earth
To send forth buds and flowers' blooms
From the womb expectantly awaiting birth
Everywhere mothers await the day abloom
First a little green shoot then a flower's petal
Then the lovers' around will fly_bees, butterflies
Gathering nectar and pollen to spread accidental
Soon young girl is ready to have wedding anxieties
Nature has a way of maturing the flowers
A little rain, sun, and nourishing food
Weddings and responsibilities maturing powers
A little romance, a little love, a little being shrewd
The first stage of life for nature and all above
Mostly pleasure very little strife conceived of
(I am stilling working on this one)
Exhausted
My blank expression
Matches the morning.
Waiting
I stare straight ahead
Watching rain
Merge into silvery drops
Before beginning their slippery descent
Down the length of
My windshield.
Turning the engine off
I wait
A little longer
It’s just another day
Nothing ever gets better
And
Nothing ever changes.
My life is in
Black and white
Straight ahead
Nestled in steel and glass
Is my world
An office
With the soul of a factory
The beat of a sweatshop.
Somewhere in the maze
Of cubicles
An empty work station
With my name
Printed in plastic letters
Waits for me.
When I forget
There is always something to remind me
A word
A look
A gesture
Almost a blur
Of someone’s shoulders
That no one cares
What happens to anyone.
I dream of an office
With a door
To shut myself out
And become invisible
To the noise
And office rumors.
Cursed with a timid heart
Burdened with responsibilities
I glance at my watch
Rushing in so as not to be late
A few minutes early is all I ask
Work in
Work out
Don’t think about anything else
Forget the day for now
And so I put it out of my mind.
What does Father’s Day mean to you, sons and daughters? I was raised without a father. I don’t know how it feels to have a father, like so many children in America and around the world today. My wife and I had a son who died at birth. If he had lived, he would have been over 45 years plus. She doesn’t talk about it, but I know she thinks about it a lot. We also have two daughters who helped me to be a real father to them. With all of my mistakes, my daughters love me and I love them too. Both of them have finished college with their degrees. My older daughter has been in the military for many years and presently she is in the reserve and works in the medical field. My youngest daughter has an excellent position with Bloomberg News in New York, NY, and from a father’s point of view, doing great. I also have two adopted daughters and they are doing great also. They know I love them too. God has blessed them and they are a blessing to others, and that’s how it should always be. I am not writing this to make you sad or mad, nor to brag, but I am writing this to tell you father’s, step up to the plate and be a real father to your child. Any man can be a sperm donor (let's be real now), but it takes a real man to be a father. There are lots of responsibilities involved. He must be reliable and be a role model for his child. He must always take time out to teach them the right thing. A real father is strong, listens, suggests, and defends. He feels proud of the achievements his child makes, whether small or large. He is always there with a shoulder to cry on when things are right or wrong. I did not have an earthly father when I was growing up, but my Heavenly Father is always there when I call on Him. He says to trust in Him with all our hearts, leaning not to our own understanding, in all our ways acknowledge Him and He will direct our paths. That’s what Father’s Day is all about.
Dear Yasmeen,
Yasmeen, take notice,
as I notice you, and see you.
As I believe in God,
I see him shine through you,
and reaffirm my purpose as a teacher.
My dainty flower of a girl,
my five-year old Arabic beauty
with braids,
floats in every morning,
bundled up, like a New Yorker
in January:
her lavender coat
swallowing her up.
It is 60 degrees
in North Carolina,
in September.
She smiles at me knowingly
(not so knowingly),
and I remind her that she has responsibilities,
in and out of the classroom.
She is an important part of a family,
and community.
You will learn to read and write,
yes, but all the important lessons,
Yasmeen,
you will teach yourself.
I can only help you find the direction
for a little while.
Remember that,
long after you forgot who said it.
Believe in the heroine of yourself,
that no one ever doubted was there.
Never regret the little risks
you didn’t take.
There is too little time
and not enough life for that.
Yasmeen, be a free bird:
singing and living, and dancing
to the music of Leonard Skynyrd,
or whomever inspires you
to be the best version of yourself.
Let them share their life with you,
and learn to laugh deeply,
and unapologetically.
See yourself for all that you are.
Relish the journey to self-discovery.
Learn to love Yasmeen.
Sincerely,
Your Kindergarten teacher
In the beginning a girl meets a boy
A connection felt like shock waves
An entire lifetime seen in each others eyes
Still only babes barely out of school
Will you come with me and dine with me
Dinner just for two
Time passes on but still feels like only yesterday
What was challenging is now made easy
Together boy and girl grew
A night on the town, a little playing around
Dinner just for two
Moving on in the world, finding their places
Never straying far from each others hearts
No longer does just a girl meet just a boy
Emerges woman to man, innocence gone
Responsibilities now playing their role
Days changing all on their own
Sacrifices made a sing song trade
Dinner just for two
Life continues somewhat different from the start
Younger days gone and spent believing
In each others arms days and nights spent
Memories of a lifetime built together
Days of yesterday the same in their eyes
Destined to be together for all time
Fate uniting their hearts and souls
Stolen moments, quick kisses, sweet embraces
Dinner just for two
Learning to hold on tight through life
When everything around you changes
Sometimes time stops when the rainbow ends
The pages of their journey's story still evolving
Reality and fantasy trying to hold their own
To make for an interesting adventure
Waves of emotion wash over each other
Come let us run away, get away if only for the day
Dinner just for two
Written by: Shannon Deane
Written: June 19th, 2011
For: P.D.'s Poetry Assignment
"Can honestly say that was the hardest form of poetry I have tried to attempt to
date, I don't think I did enough justice, but this is the result of my rough copy, my
apologies for the rough attempt"