Real Poets Poems

     I once disliked poetry worse than math   
        going back further...

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I want them to shake me—
not to break me,
but to stir something deep.
To rattle me, gently,
from places I’ve let fall asleep.

To spring anger—yes—
but only where...

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Clock in, clock out
Wake, commute, work, sleep, repeat
They say I'm making a living
But where in this equation am I alive?

Traded my sunrise for spreadsheets
My sunset for status reports
My laughter for leader boards
My dreams for direct deposits

We're all running on this hamster wheel
Spinning faster just to stay in place
"Success" measured in square footage
And vacation days we're too exhausted to take

They sold us a promise:
Work hard now, live later
But later keeps getting pushed back
Like a horizon we never reach

When did we agree
That breathing means producing?
That existing means earning?
That value equals output?

My grandmother's hands knew real work
Soil under fingernails, calluses with purpose
She worked to live
I live to work

The system whispers:
"Just one more promotion"
"Just one more year"
"Just one more sacrifice"
While life slips through fingers
Clutching paychecks

Making a living
What a curious phrase
As if living itself
Is something manufactured
Something we must earn the right to do

I want to make a life instead
Rich with moments that don't fit on resumes
Abundant with connections no algorithm can track
Wealthy with experiences no bank can hold

Because making a living
Without actually living
Is the most expensive purchase
We never meant to make.
...

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The boat is so close to me.
It feels so nice.
It is full of flowers.
White, red and blue: so many roses.
Some are stale, some fresh.
The fragrance...

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One night, one tale, I'll write so true,
With every word, I'll pen down you.
A moon so bright, a gentle breeze,
Your hand in mine, a moment...

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Truth drowns in pixels, one click at a time
While falsehoods spread faster than summer wildfire
We scroll and we swipe, consuming the lies
Each share button pressed...

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To all the poets near and far
Alive and well or beyond the stars,
I bid you peace, I bid you rest,
I bid you all the very...

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A thought

There was a day when I used to be happy,
There was a day when I felt like alive,
But now I am not even me...

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what a reflection!
"no time for final good-bye's"
at the end goodbye
is it a real good luck?
is it a real bad luck?

lovely poetess!
I really like to write
best...

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We read of clouds and flowers, 
Trees and fields and hills of grass. 

Alas, like pennies spent, our hours reading words 
That other poets penned...

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If you like a guy 
And a guy like you 
Tell me girl 
What do you do 
Do you try and get to know him...

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beneath the screen’s unwavering eye
it scans the words where truths may lie
each line dissected parsed and weighed
a judgment rendered coldly made

this poem is not yours...

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Right Now/Tony Adamo
the subway rumbles,
a symphony of voices,
spoken words drifting,
like jazz notes swirling,
through twilight streets,
trumpet sharp,
trombone smooth,
the city breathes,
tongues dance to the Latin beat.
The Last...

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Inspiring ways
It was a Poet who wrote
People thought the Poet was making a Joke
Proven fact, words became illustrate
A Journey in determination of partake
Poetry is more...

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I wake up, still tangled in yesterday’s shadows.
The world presses in too hard,
but I’m already used to that weight.
I don’t fight it anymore.
I just exist...

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