Long Roadblocks Poems
Long Roadblocks Poems. Below are the most popular long Roadblocks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Roadblocks poems by poem length and keyword.
Loving you is a choice I make daily.
There are moments I’m in love with you, and moments I hate you,
but in the end, I still choose you.
I choose to stay by your side,
not because it’s easy — most times it’s difficult to stay,
but I choose you every second of the day.
There are days the smile leaves my face
and all I can embrace are tears,
but I still choose you.
The journey has many roadblocks.
I get silent, but I still choose to keep walking,
knowing I’ll need to carry you part of the distance.
The weight is heavy, but I choose you still.
Respect and honesty *keep* us firm.
My heart chose you,
my mind understood the mission of love and commitment,
so I choose you.
To run this race, patience is key,
forgiveness is necessary.
Loving you isn’t easy,
but I choose you.
The poison parrot is repulsed by me, hates my art, laughs at my poems.
sneers when I enter my imaginary world, pokes fun at it.
She throws roadblocks into my mood zone,
destroys my great ideas as fast as they enter my dendrite alley.
You think you are something! Ha! She laughs. You are less than nothing.
No one will like that. It is too sassy, too bright, too snotty, too tall, too snarly.
She snips away at me, chopping little pieces off, as I try not to cry.
You are an idiot! She yells at me, her favorite pastime.
Poison Parrot managed to hold me down, away from myself, for years.
She held me hostage in a prison I helped her build; I cowered in a scared way.
Until I met Savior Boy. Savior Boy did not know about Poison Parrot, for when
I was around him, I was confident, witty, sassy, fun,
out-going and memorably lovely.
He let me do his homework, and he received good grades,
praising me to high heaven.
The closer we became. the more self-assured I became,
assertive genius oozed out of me.
Poison Parrot was fearful now, she saw she was losing her grip.
She began yelling louder than ever.
“You are an idiot! You are worthless! You are a loser!”
I stopped hearing her. Savior Boy’s love and respect helped me
to clip her wings, and tape her beak.
By the time our children arrived, I had re-invented my self-talk.
I was now being talked to by Sophie,
a dynamic, self-assured, marvelous pixie queen who
believed in herself, and everyone else.
I released Poison Parrot and let her limp away,
saving no face at all, after Sophie arrived.
Plucking the Poison Parrot Number 156
Written: 1-6-2019 Sponsor: Maureen McGreavy
The child Abuse survivors
Wished that they could have their childhood lives again
But their childhood lives are over
And they were abused by their mothers and fathers
But if I could turn back the clock I would
And I would give their childhood lives back once again but I would never be Able to look at their mothers and fathers eyes again
It is so ashame that their mothers and fathers
Had sexually abused them
But I ask myself who can the Child Abuse survivors trust today and always
Also I believe that they know that life is full of roadblocks and pain
Let me do a favor for the child abuse survivor of Canada by working Together with them to help them relieve their pain of child abuse
Also I will remove the roadblocks from their lives
So that they can live a normal life again by playing their cards safely in their Lives
Because every card represents something new in their lives
Child abuse survivors don't be afraid to dream because dreaming is like Breathing and you need to breathe in order to survive
Child abuse survivors meditate everyday because by meditating you will get Your energy back
Also child abuse survivor have a positive outlook on life and leave the negative Thoughts behind or discard the negative thoughts in the Threshold
God I ask you to protect the child abuse everyday and guide them wherever they are
And I say to that long Live the child Abuse survivor
Stress can definitely be a killer
It can turn life upside down
A person might not even realize it
The reason for wearing a frown
It could be something quite simple
Meeting someone the very first time
An interview for a high paying job
Totally oblivious of the signs
We all must be mindful of the pitfalls
Prepare for roadblocks unseen
Wary of all the curves in life's journey
A prodigious challenge it seems
The answer I've found is just let it flow
Probably easier said than done
Gotta try coz the alternative's not good
To fix it, you are the one
To sum up, I'm offering this bit of advice
Been around the block a few times
What I've learned in all my years
Is relax and things will be fine!
© Jack Ellison 2013
I had a firm plan. The first three steps were sidetracked.
Mismanaged, mishandled, they blew up.
I am flexible. I went another direction, trying to prevail.
Wanting my original plan.
It did not happen.
I changed my plan a tiny bit, not willing to give it up yet.
God threw roadblocks, accidents, and mountains in my path.
Irritated, I began to pray for my own plan.
I was determined to get my way and I begged Him to give it to me.
The answer was no.
It took me a long time to realize it and give it up.
I was discouraged and unhappy.
Not willing to go in a completely different direction.
But alas, the path was out of my hands
As was the plan He had for me.
I went into this God plan kicking and screaming.
It was never my plan; it was His plan.
Weirdly enough, it ended up being the best plan of all.
I know this because I had twenty jobs before I found my career.
I think the career I had planned would have never enticed me like this one.
~
Perhaps…it is the light,
reflecting in symphonic visions from dampened roadways,
serenading my heart in melodies of whispered thoughts,
painting lyrical lilacs on a gray canvas
with fraying edges
even as clouds connect the sun,
I sit alone, on a worn leather seat,
fingers tapping the steering wheel in rhythm with
the endless miles connecting my cultivated dreams
with pictured fantasies that may prove to be just that…
fantasies
yet I look,
optimistic eyes perusing spring fed corn row wishes
and sunflower sonatas,
which my heart faces with fevered emotion
and anticipation of each new coming day…
(constantly aware of roadblocks set up
along the shoulders of your heart)
Distractions come as an eclipse darkens the sky
or is it my heavy eyelids causing the detour,
yet my soul is alert to the possibilities
of what might be waiting behind that locked door
where silence allows me to hear your words…
written in the wee hours of the morning
an invitation to share this morning with one who matters,
one who touches me, one who feeds me
with a simple hello and a cup of coffee
or something more…fantasies become realities…perhaps
The cares of the world, are weighing me down.
To the point, that I wanted my thoughts; to drown.
Bills owed, finding their way to the mail box.
I want to pay them, but; I have too many roadblocks.
Collectors harassing day in and day out on the telephone.
Even on the "do not call" list they still won't leave you alone.
I try and develop a plan to suppress the harassment.
That didn't last very long, or even bring any appeasement.
The greedsome collectors send a pile, that is a waste of trees.
Just to collect their "grub" and jacked up hideous fees!
Then the greedsome collectors called me at work!
I called them back mad and was about to go berserk!
Then I received a whopping medical bill.
I felt so sick with disgust, I think I feel "ill".
In the mail was a pink envelope and what was inside?
An insurance bill that read "if not paid" then services denied.
I come home from my job feeling somber and "spent".
I opened up my check, of course; the government took their "cent".
They say when it rains, it pours.
Life’s tedious doldrums but, a different day; and more downpour!
Challenges keep visiting us all
Whether we want them to or not
They're perennial guests to our doorstep
Some, unwelcome; some we invite in
Some, easy to tackle; some, hard
Challenges are those cold, sticky mud
Beneath rows of barbed wire
We have to crawl through day by day
The high roof we all have to jump to touch
The incessantly churning sea...
We all have to sail across to reach terra firma
They're the ultimate tester of mettles
But they shouldn't be roadblocks in our paths
To glory. We never journey through them
By our lonesome, for God leads the way
So we mustn't be fearful of challenges
That confront us. They teach us who we are
And what we are truly made of
So whatever challenge YOU face, my friend
Let it be what nectar is to a bee!
FEBRUARY 2019,any form,any theme,upto a max of 20 lines
Sponsored by Brian Strand (Winner: 1st Place)
Date written and posted: 02/02/2019
the arguments and the spittle
they are our muscle
the curse words and the raw harshness
they are our multivitamins
the accusations and the confirmations
they are our truth serums
the holding on and the letting go
they are our inspiration to work
the laughter that we share
the positive memories we declare
the forward movement with the freshness of a spare
the quality time now handled with thorough care
building blocks are heavy
cinder blocks are heavy
roadblocks are challenging
around the block is challenging
the doghouse and the worn sofa
inspires contemplation and marination
the circle drives and the cooloff walks
inspires strategy sessions and blueprint brainstorms
the attention deposits and the attention withdrawals
inspires infinite lessons and next time remembrances
the long talks and the informative conversations
inspires the next day and the next workload
simple assembly still takes time
simple maintenance still takes time
the screw and the screwdriver can still cause callouses
the hammer and the nail can still cause callouses
however and nevertheless, it all can never go wrong
as long as God is the Foundation on which the Bond stands strong....
I wonder what it would’ve been like to grow up differently. Perhaps with fewer mental roadblocks. Possibly with a brain that wasn’t constantly shifting channels without warning. I’ve been trying so hard lately, writing a book that digs into the mess of identity, lying, family, and mental illness, designing guitar lesson plans, building a future from scratch, but I still feel like I’m falling short. I stay up through the night, not because I want to, but because sleep won’t come. My body is exhausted, but my mind refuses to rest. Insomnia has become my shadow, and no one around me really knows what it’s like to be stuck in a room with nothing but thoughts that spin and spin and spin.
I was once told I only had a few days left to live. The sickness would overtake me. My physical health draining the life out of my soul and the spirit in my skin would be released, to carry me up to God. However, some of the medicine is working, just enough, to keep me alive. My sentence has been extended to two years. I wonder, though, if it would have been better to depart in those two minutes than in the two years to come. Without my person, my life would not mean what everyone deserves. Love, value, and worth. Though little, there is value in each breath I take. With this worth, comes fear. I fear I am lucky to have. If this fear did not exist, my life would be nothing, and my world would end. I am scared to die because I have someone to care for. But I am scared to suffer because I have someone to protect. What is terminal illness when the life expectancy changes? If this is the case, then aren't we all terminally ill?