Long Tough love Poems
Long Tough love Poems. Below are the most popular long Tough love by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tough love poems by poem length and keyword.
There's so much to
figure out
I can't talk or even
shout
The way you've
changed is so
surprising
It's causing a huge
uprising
I tried to teach you
right from wrong
And how to be really
strong
Never letting the
peer pressure
Make you feel any
lesser
But this person
you've become
Can not be changed
or undone
Lying, cheating,
alcohol
Drugs,
robbing--you've done
it all
Far from the way you
were taught
How did you become
so caught
And involved in such
nonsense
It's becoming way to
tense
For me to handle
anymore
Locks are changed on
all the doors
No more teen drama
will enter
Now tough love will
be the center
Of your days until
you see
How much better you
can be
Returning back to
who I raised
Getting lots of love
and praise
Letting go of all
the feelings
That turned you into
a demon
I'll be thrilled the
day that you
Return to me honest
and true
I get up every day with the life I thought is mine
And before I get my share done,
watched you silently asleep and I smile
I knew that the moments of me walking alone the house is limited
So as I wait for your parades, I get things done.
I work and work and work.
My mind is filled of thoughts how
to make your life better than my yesterday.
I think of food for your day.
I think of things you can do for the day.
And I get scared of my temper getting in the way.
Again.
Our days are not always fun filled.
Not always happy. Mostly of screaming.
Yelling.
Shouting.
Fighting.
Apologies.
Fear.
And I blame myself.
I didn't grew up around a house filled
with more laughter than tears.
Tears not of joy.
There are days we were happy.
Days we were ok, but we were children
Asked to grow up too quickly
And though tough love is what it was,
Our hearts broke at times.
I know not much of what a mother's love should be
As I didn't exactly have one of my own.
We got bruises and we had scars.
Scars that soon faded and scars that never truly did.
And when I had you, I thought I would be better.
And to never give to you what I had.
But it was a lot harder than I thought.
More brutal than I thought.
My struggles are your sufferings.
My past is your present.
I see my scars slowly engraving in you.
And I cry everyday, struggling everyday.
Yet, you still look for me.
Hug me.
Kiss me.
Tell me you love me.
Tell me my cooking is the best in the world.
You worry when I cry, wiped my tears and gave me more love
You always ask if I am ok.
And in the moments I get scared
Of my wrong actions speaking louder than my words,
You showed me more patience and understanding.
I pray everyday you will be better than what I want you to be.
I pray you'll never lose your way.
I may not have given you the life you truly deserve,
But I'll work harder to be the mother you deserve.
----January 12, 2022----
I smoked a cigarette today and couldn't understand why.
It was a bad habit indulged long forgotten of mine
and then it suddenly struck me. I realized why.
I guess I simply want to die,
but cigarette smoking is a very slow and painful process of suicide.
So I made a decision. I'm going to ride out life's ride
with all of its twists and turns and the occasional surprise
guaranteed to strike me unexpectedly right between the eyes.
If I have to I will continue to swim against life's tide
because realistically eventually we're all going to die.
What's the big rush? Why even consider suicide?
When I'm at that lowest depressed state that one can possibly be,
here's something I do regularly that seems to help me.
I look at myself in the mirror and say out loud to me,
"Buck up and be a man you oversensitive big baby!"
That's me giving tough love to me.
With a pending pen, a pensive poet ponders
As he wonders when and where to wedge the next rhyme
To split the rhythm hidden from passerby eyes
Only heard then, by those willing to wander
Daydreaming bare day, with just a hint for misty skies
A hint is but a hint to the tint of a poets eyes
So many wonder why his eyes open amidst his slumbers
When the seemingly soothing rain gently knocks lullabies
Call his name once, you'd think he turned a blind eye
Call his name twice. Do forgive his ventured mind
Bear in mind, like most, he bares the best of tough love
That Mother Nature gives along with swift Father Time
Bare in mind, his mind will write his every struggle
So give him time, peace of mind, a piece of yours shall come
By the boldest boast of thunder post the tundra coast
With his oldest, mostly tattered, tightly tethered poems
Roams the pensive poet - tired - holding on Dear Hope
Such is where the pensive poet's mind would wander most
Schlerotic schlemiel schleps...
Into lonely senescence -
three plus decades already elapsed
trepidation, hesitation unbearably
tugging, shouldering,
remonstrating accumulation
of "baggage" thumb
of right hand thrust out
silently raving, quaking
cursing ultimatum parents
(soffit to fascia in)
saw fit to fashion
and hammer home
red hot poker rage
their singular male offspring
middle child of two sisters,
who long since vacated premises
when both young naifs
prior to attaining age of consent
deploring bing holed up
at 324 Level Road redoubt
built as summer house
remote from fracas of urban bedlam
still fifty years since Leipers
bon voyage into netherland
father and mother
imposed swiftly tailored
harried styled tough love
translated meant absolute zero value
toward offspring they begot,
and made quite clear loathing
heaped upon sundered fountainhead
good for nothing son of a...,
he whittled away precious time
reading avast among trove of material
crowdsourcing numerous bookshelves
mostly to impress intellectual visitors,
when in truth middle aged couple
thinly veiled country bumpkins,
donned with "FAKE" literacy
stereotypical "rednecks,"
inexplicably begot wunderkind
agog with inhaling literature
in tandem with liberal
magazines and newspapers
oft times whiled away countless hours
sunup to sundown
sequestered most remote nook
within local library
few miles walk along country road
served as self taught schooling
since parochial educated regimen
habitually rapped knuckles
courtesy whiplike hickory stick
if pupil evinced slightest
distraction, whence schoolmaster
detected lack of attention
as crotchety curmudgeon
blankly droned monotonously
dull jabbering subjected
stone faced classmates
into instant soporific state
futilely struggling to keep eyelids
slamming shut tight
including yours truly,
who when suddenly awake
realized quite a vivid dream!
MY DEAREST MUMMY or MOMMIE
A MOTHER'S DAY POEM-FOR MY/YOUR DEAR MOTHER.
REMEMBERING ALL MOTHERS.
A TRIBUTE TO A DEAR MOTHER.
WHO IS A/YOUR MOTHER?
YOUR/MY TEACHER, AND YET MY BEST FRIEND.
If she is alive, let her know
That You care immensely and totally.
And that when she's gone she will be profusely missed.
Dedicate to her a nice love song,
I can recommend- Wind beneath my wing by
Bette Midler or Lou Rawls or Roger Whittaker.
Mine is dead now...but I wish she was still here
To celebrate Mother's Day with her loving son.
I'll Take her old clock and a fake cake by her grave with me.
And a daffodil or two, I am the child she loved.
I will genuflect at her grave.
I will go in the afternoon and stay till I feel
The frenzy in the beckoning call of the unfriendly cold evening dew
Warning me that it is about time to go
To leave and wander on my journey homeward
And to ponder upon sweet green thoughts of her memories
And celebrate her wondrous life and dedication,
Celebrate another soft kissing anniversary of Mother's Day.
Yes Celebrating, Recognising, and Honouring,
A dear, dear, dearest Mother and truest Best friend.
An extraordinary Examplar, and Greatest and Safest Pillar of Strength, Trust and LOVE.
At Times Tough Love Even.
We Have to forever Thank Her. Be Forever Grateful for her.
And That's All any Man can say.
Sometimes I still get a jam where I feel strongly like I need my Mom.
Mother, Always a Place to shelter in case a storm ever comes along.
We Used to call her Maa.
But deep inside we recognised that she would always be a star.
By Lord Cam Of Nevis -Poem
Sometimes fate's embrace is laced with tough love
offering stern hugs from above & its intimate
kisses never miss their mark
Some leave you scarred from birth & left
wondering who arranged this stark date
with destiny
At times the best of me struggles with the
optimistic view due to the optics of
life's darker hues
This life is shaded by perceptions but the
deception of the eyes can hide
truth in plain sight
Proof isn't always apparent on the surface but
can be found in the background
behind main attractions
We have to fight to pay attention due to distractions
as the cost of being oblivious can be
troublesome
Quarrelsome are the hidden forces that can prove
to be detrimental but the battle is won
in the mental space
We're fated to find our place on the battle grounds
of life in bodies that serve as rentals
racing to the finish line
The front lines are littered with letters spelling doom
but we're destined to rise above this
chat room
The circular fashion of life can tire one not equipped
to handle the ride causing some to
open doors & bail
Those mailing in their resignation are sure to find
themselves opposite of the desired
destination & stuck with new yet
difficult beginnings
Being too concerned with winning only leads to
loss as it can lead you off of the
path of ascending
Where can we go to find the creepiest scariest dungeon? She asked.
I had to get out my travel books and research; it was quite a task.
We finally agreed to go to London to see an evil looking gargoyle.
He will twist your stomach into knots and make your blue blood boil.
My friend was almost too frightened, but at the last minute went.
We boarded a plane after every bit of my savings was spent.
The gargoyle was frightening, but the dungeon was even worse.
When we got inside an aggressive poltergeist ran away with my purse.
We had to call my parents collect and ask them for some money.
Sorry, my dad said, but I have to use tough love on you honey.
So here we are, standing in the worst dungeon in London town.
Hello kind stranger. Do you have a nice place to lay down?
THE JUNK, THE CLUTTER
THAT GETS IN THE WAY
PICKING UP ITEMS FROM DAY TODAY
OVER CLEANING, EXTRA CLEANING
DO THEY CARE
LET ME RELAX, OH MY!!!
ANOTHER FULL DAY OF TASKS
MAYBE NEED TO STAY ALONE
THEREFORE, THE HOARDING
THEY MIGHT WILL OWN
TOO MUCH TO CLEAN
GETTING OVERWHELMING
FOR IT IS TIRESOME
A PLACE OF DWELLING
CLEANING BEHIND THEM
IS A HUGE JOB TO DO
ONE-DAY IT WILL BE BETTER
AS A GIVEN CLUE.
CLEAN, ORGANIZE
A NEAT HOME TO STAY
NICE ATMOSPHERE
LEAVING, GONE
TO A PLACE FAR FAR AWAY.
ADDING MORE AND MORE
SUBTRACT AS ONE GO
THEREFORE THE STUFF WILL NOT CREATE
FROM ROOM TO ROOM
OR DOOR TO DOOR.
CLEANING, IS A GREAT FEELING
FOR REAL, STUFF AT THE TOP OF THE CEILING
THERE IS HELP ALONG THE WAY
I PRAY FOR ALL
TO GET PROFESSIONAL HELP SOMEDAY.
"TOUGH LOVE"
A PERSON THAT CARES
AS THEY SO DO SHARE.
"Books are uniquely portable magic."
Quote by _Stephen King
________________
Books, I love and seek them out in dusty places,
cookbooks, art, poetry and dictionaries of all kind;
in nooks and piles of books scattered and in tidy cases,
sketchbooks cobweb covered are such a great find !
Many appeal to me- while I go deeper wandering,
plenty are gathering in my "like" pile to purchase today;
any, I would love and so I am pondering and pondering,
twenty or so is a good number wouldn't you say !
Old pages once loved- yellowed, tattered I will save,
mould can be repaired so in my pile I keep placing;
gold leaf covers, I will keep you from a book grave,
thresholds of discovery - oh, why am I still pacing !
Wow, I better stop, because I have to get them home,
now, is the time for tough love and a decision;
oh, I CAN get them home- even the many large tome,
I cannot leave a single one- that is my decision !
___________________
March 8, 2021
Poetry/Rhyme/Used Books
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1334-915-08
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Bookshop
Sponsor, Kai Michael Neumann, Judged 03/18/2021
Submitted into the Premier contest, Your 2021 N-A Choice 2
sponsor, William Kekaula, Judged 05/03/2021
Seventh Place