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
~ Classroom Instructions ~
Motivation meets a mountain
climbs it up halfway
But stops to gauge its future
if danger ahead lays
Will Motivation ever reach the top
after coming to a stop
Raise your hand if you think so
~ only two thumbs up means N-O!
Paris is about attitude and the art of slow living, where nothing’s urgent and everything’s fine.
But if you’re in school, that’s not true. I just began a group project (gp), and to paraphrase William Shakespeare, the storm has come again! GPs are big affairs with slow moving parts, like conceptualization and collaboration - and all that happens before any actual work is done.
Some cultures treat deadlines like casual suggestions but I get absolutely hinky in the loom of deadlines - I pace, chew fingernails and fret.
The other day, a TA (teaching assistant) asked me if I was trying to “prove something.”
The French invented ‘laze faire.’ after all, but I’m American enough to have dismissively said,
“I’d like to prove I can complete the assignment on time.”
Let’s get poet-y..
A trial comes, like a cloud, so dark it should thunder
but there’s no bromide, offer of shelter or tent to mock the storm,
it’s for us - as strangers - to return results which opinion crowns fair.
.
.
Let’s sing the blues:
O.K. I'll Play the Blues - Deanna Bogart
Emotions and Math - Margaret Glaspy
Preachin' Blues by Larkin Poe
Exiled from home,
My heart is heavy
With an ever-present ache
Only family can heal
Clinging to the hope
Of being whole,
I spend each hour
In silent anguish
For grief has carved fresh wounds
Where waves of sorrow flood,
As I sink ever deeper
Into darkness
But as despair reaches
To pull me under
With her cold, unfeeling hands,
My soul refuses to drown
For I am buoyed by a love
That can never be taken,
And can never be broken,
Even as my heart breaks.
My heart sinks dire,
Blood clots forming a nest,
It almost seems impermeable,
Yet I’ve long been put to rest.
What’s seen as trivial-
My soul and heart whimper,
For a call, hope, anything to linger.
They seek out my amiability,
Along with sheets of tears and gold,
It almost seems unpredictable,
How one can make me out as so loved.
Please… listen closely-
I call out to you last once more…
Feels herself falling to pieces
In a basket collects the shattered fragments
Fears she’s losing the battle
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2025
Vibrant blue consumes me,
The stench of sea salt filling my nostrils.
My mind wet, my body dry—
The water continuously rising.
Human presence liquefies,
Submersion inevitable.
Now eyes fill my lungs,
And noise pours into my soul.
I was born defective,
Without gills,
Unable to swim,
Despite it being in our nature.
Claustrophobia intensifies; Air remains out of my reach.
I feel a primal anxiety—
It’s over.
I can feel myself dying,
But truthfully I’m not dying—
I’m just in public. Pathetic, isn’t it.
Stepping away from mental
Qualm and carried in strong
Arms of nectar and brief balm
Of lull and daydreams.
Bathed in nature's
Calm seductive vestment
A timeless orchestra in its shadows.
The night was very dark,
the rough seas gave out a bark.
Would our small boat the Ark,
make it in these tall waves or stay in park?
Then we spotted the light,
it was small and not bright.
Just a blink of white,
then out of site.
We finally got docked,
were told the lighthouse could not be unlocked.
It was haunted many would say,
we know the truth about that day.
Sitting in overnight emergency ward
Front row seats for drama unfolding nonstop
Almost forgetting why I came
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2025
For purchasing a new house, I rejoice,
Yet always hear a faint, unearthly voice.
"Is it a ghost—or spirits?" I ponder,
And tremble with fear as my thoughts wander.
Doors creak shut, then unlock, then close again;
A wild wind hurls a window from its pane.
A whisper sighs, "This once belonged to me,"
Then thunders forth, "Hand over now the key!"
A sudden chill sweeps my feet off the grounds;
My trembling soul spins in unearthly rounds.
I'm bound within the monster's cold, dark reins—
My spirit flees, a soulless shell remains.
Tomorrow is a promised day
All full of hope - fireworks array.
New paths to take - we're on our way
Choose this - choose that, our right of way.
We'll make things right what we've put off
Starting new things and lightly scoff
At why we've waited far too long
To sort out things where we belong.
The sun is bright and makes us feel
All is all right - a top card deal.
The rain clouds in the distance are
Of no concern - not ours by far.
And yet in mystic other ways
Tomorrow is a strange display
That causes us to scratch our head
And contradicts the things we've said:
Tomorrow is another day
It's just like any other day
But filled with things we can't explain
Or won't - to tax our addled brain.
We look, we see, we turn away
And rue the view from day to day.
We wonder how things got this way
Although we shroud the part we play.
Tomorrow's role - we can't defend -
"Creeps in this petty pace" my friend,
And yet that fact should not prevent
Some measure of accomplishment.
Today we'll look to other things -
for every gift tomorrow brings.
And, in this timely way to be
We'll recompense our sanity.
My ears, sadly, have let me down
And hearing aids do make me frown!
Though wearing the best
They don't pass the test-
Loud background noise still takes the crown!
Bury me deep
Bury me deep,
where the pain cannot reach.
Sunset or sunrise
it doesn’t matter.
I am but meat.
There’s not much left in me;
my brain is jumbling,
and I cannot speak.
This job may be the death of me
too tired to think.
Each day is a struggle;
the passing trees swerve and tumble,
drawing me closer, they mumble.
I don’t feel human.
I feel less than I used to.
Hang me from your tree,
for my beloved to see.
Gaze upon what’s around so rarely
here to stay, withered and empty.
I love you forever,
my love, my family.
Specific Types of Stress Poems
Definition | What is Stress in Poetry?
Poems Related to Stress
afflict, agony, anxiety, burden, crunch, expectancy, fear, force, hardship, hassle, heat, importance, intensity, nervousness, pressure, significance, strain, tension, trauma, urgency, weight, worry,