Routine Poems - Poems about Routine

Sitting in the balcony, I sit blank and stare Two crows in the tree, some flying in the air They hop and play without care or worry I watch them with fancy, don’t know why I feel sorry They have all the time, and no boss to please No responsibilities, no bills, no school fees No one to shout, and no...

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Your voice cuts through my morning thoughts, While coffee grows cold in my hands. I memorize each word you speak— How foolish love can make demands. You mention rain and subway delays, Small troubles that fill up your day. I turn them into precious things, Though you mean nothing that you say. My friends show pictures of their dates, While I rehearse what I...

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Breakfast bells ring In my stomach and I go downstairs in the Room where deliciousness Resides with care and love— Kitchen, I stumble slowly Sinking the moment all in I take every step Tap Tap Tap ...

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You ask why I chose you. I thought you knew! I chose you like clean air Because you refreshed my existence I chose you like the ocean Because you regulated the climate of my spirit I chose you like the sun Because you nourished my heart’s daily routine I chose you like the soil Because you filtered the waters of my life that keep...

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I looked at the trees. They moved with the birds, while they chirped and laughed. Shutting the door, my hand shaking from former caffeine. I heard music from my room. It stopped. My speaker died. The blinds let the light in and my room smelled good, like laundry in the morning. My skin was easy today and my lips...

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Sunday, I take out a bowl. Monday, a spoon. Tuesday, open a box of Raisin Bran, Pour some in. Wednesday, the milk. Thursday, I spoon some in and chew. Friday, wash and dry the bowl and spoon. Saturday, return the bowl to the cupboard, Spoon to the drawer. Sunday, I take out a bowl. ...

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And the hearse did rehearse its path, Though the skeleton held dearly To his ground, smiling loud. He was bare - needed a shroud, With his straight bow, grinned severely. For it seems, he’ll not move ever. There’s his calcified stick figure, Who’s not shamed in the least. For on earth, his time’s increased. Seems he’s stuck in mortis-rigor. ...

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May we be blessed to understand from one big moment to the next most of our life is living the moments in between.. and perhaps the best way to a happy life is to find the beauty in the routine. ...

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The clock ticks, and I sit, it’s 1 AM, A silent treatment to the passing time. Tomorrow, something I cannot touch. Where will I be? Who will I become? The question haunts me but calms me Like quiet waves. Yet I remain here, In this cold chair, at this cluttered desk, Staring at the pages. The same as yesterday. The world outside spins, And yet I’m...

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The Lep, has washed hands of St. Pat’s, does lean and fiddles in space, against tree, routine. The pot at the end of sun, was found a bit late; one won. Lep’s blind to the coot who handles gold-green. After his fiddling, is over and done, Lep gets to a-counting, his coins, for fun. He scratches his head, and blows his stack, as...

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Life is full of daily routine just things we do each day they can get pretty boring but they are required come what may We have a set of things to do that needs discipline to carry out but other situations cross our path needing our attention to what's about But even when the days is just ordinary humdrum as we call it here there's...

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The Routine I woke today, teeth like ground gears. In my dreams, I can fly far above the tear-soaked sequoias and caked roots of all that grow, flying far away from their togetherness- My waking, a cold mockery unveiled. I move along the hall, shrouded in fractured memories bound by copper, wood, cheap plastic from the "somewhere" store. All the while,...

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It all sparks off With the mention of the park Her white tail twirling Relishing the renewal Of her communion with nature Her contact with her ancestral past Then off to the park in the car Where ,after taking her ease, She sniffs at the sourness Of tired vegetation With more attractive smells To follow. Let off her lead,running free Through the rustling carpet of russet, Her paws...

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In the kitchen, pots clatter and pans clang, The blender whirs as the kettle hisses and sings, A spoon clinks in a mug, stirring tea, While toast pops up with a little ding! The cat purrs on the counter, eyes half-shut, The dog’s tail thumps as it begs for crumbs, The fridge door squeaks as I grab some jam, And the bread...

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When I arise in the morning, after “Thank you, God!” I often ask, Am I fully loaded for this day to meet and complete my many tasks? Have I spent the necessary time in thoughtful contemplation, And calmed my overactive mind with deep yoga meditation? Am I free from negative, nagging dark moods and fitful emotions? Can I rise to...

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