Life is full of struggle
We need to face,not grumble
Every move is a challenge to win
But,be true,do no sin
The best of efforts fall short and less
The lack of courage is a curse,not bless
The worst enemy of mine is the lack of courage
I feel disheartened and often outrage
The fear of courage,that I have within
I need to throw out,else need to pin
Although I work hard to reach the goal
I could reach only up to a knoll...
To dust, The old boxes in the attic, the old toys in the basement, they turn to dust as they stay forgotten, the cotton rabbit going rotten. The boxes taped close, as if reopened they'd grow and Molden. the small bed in the room, needing dusting, the frames rusting and the sheets clustering. the pictures turned down, the stand broken and the glass broken, the frame cracked and dusted. The kid in this room loved it, but moved out for peace, getting a lease and building a life, new bed, new pictures, new boxes and new toys for the kids they had themselves, and soon enough that kid's room will dust too. Not in dirtiness but in affection, showing how much it was looked in, slept and cried in, and used. SO if you dust it don't throw out the boxes, don't resell the toys, don't throw out the broken pictures and please don't dismantle the bed, leave it to be, leave the memories fly around, leave it as a museum until the kid comes into that house, picking that same room, using that same bed, ripping those same boxes and playing with those same toys. To dust, is to love.
Convince them of necessity. Then councel
Of an immediacy.? Step it up to an emergency.' And keep it fast paced-volitile
With some pathos see.! Appeal to good intent..And hype the alarm, then offer the
Solution to every arm.? Throw out the cash
Raise the debt, get some princes to press
Knuckles yes! Get that photo op set.' Push
Out the quacks, oh the doctors i mean.?create some rules..Get real obscene, get
Old dolly parton to sing along, and many
Celebs will join the throng, its all about egos in the world you see.? And paying and
Paying..Well who ( the hell) values whats whats free.?
They congregate in a bog
vying to be the boss hog
all the teethy little fishes
Swimming in circles they go
Baldy, Waldo, and Bozo
When one of them dishes
they all start to nibble
Watch them hurry to the bog
mouths drooling with dribble.
Throw out the chum
and watch them bite
at each other's bum.
It's a hilarious sight.
Swimming in circles they go
Feeding time is status quo
Along the shore they creep,
waiting to dive into the deep.
It's a condition known as stasis
but has no factual basis.
There's no hurry to reel them in
once they've been hooked.
Their circus act can be booked.
Swimming in circles they go
Banjo, Bongo and Bo Bo
A school of big mouth bass
from waters of the lower class
floating around in the bog
getting themselves waterlogged.
when I am forced to condense words
required to throw out the extras
given a small word count
my writing improves
yet I always do this paring down reluctantly
kicking and screaming my protest
even though I know it’s going to get better
no idea why
Written By: D. Collins 10/23/25
Forgive me if I throw out this little flirt.
You're one of the most beautiful to walk planet earth.
Your confidence and posture is what any many should want.-
All of the necessary creds any woman would flaunt.
Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with lookin' good.
That is why I had to add the "Wow-Wow" to the Wood.
You have kissable dimples and the most beautiful smile.
Prevent OGs like me from going out of style (Old Guys).
I just happen to find it totally ridiculous.
That God blessed one person with so many gifts.
This little blurb is just to give you some props.
That OGs have experience in knowing what is "HOT".
I am cleaning out in bits and spurts
finally throw out dust jacket of my Uncle Burt
Aunt Inez come by to ask for it
When I tell her I threw it, she has a fit
Twenty-two years I have had that thing
Who would have guessed in the pocket was her diamond ring?
Throw out your practicality
Throw out your excuses
Throw out all your reasons
Now reflect on your soul
Tell me, what do you desire?
Follow your heart, not your fear
Bury the chaos of your mind
Bury all your shame
Bury your brave mask
Now reflect on your soul
Tell me, what do you desire?
Follow your heart, not your fear
Give up on pushing me away
Give up on hiding your emotions
Give up on suppressing your feelings
Now reflect on your soul
Tell me, what do you desire?
Follow your heart, not your fear
a Cinqopet
Let there be light out of the dark
to dazzle the eyes like a spark,
stripteasing six flavors of quark,
delighting the sense of sight
with the artistry of light.
It is but a dream. I have known
darkness that chills down to the bone,
a cold that time has only grown~
if there is light let me see,
if there is light set me free!
A voice softly speaks a whisper,
then another more sinister,
a soul fight for this lost sister~
a fight to dispell the night
and to give the blind one sight!
The darkness has been pulled away
and beauty now illumes each day,
at night the bright starlight holds sway,
casting shadows from corners,
sealing the mouths of scorners.
The beauty in darkness is this,
you may find the light if you wish,
just throw out the bad with a swish
of the hem of your garment,
stars will be your betrothment
as light overcomes darkness!
Hopes, fears, dreams, hurts, and desires
Are all felt in heartfelt fires;
The dreams of tomorrow, the happiness, the sorrows
The fear of loving, the fear of living day to day
All are feelings, felt by all.
Touching you, feeling you, and having the need, to hold on forever
Loving, doubting, and fearing, the process are potent combinations for disaster;
Want to throw out the hurts, want to toss away the fear-
Want to embrace the remaining years with arms stretched wide open.
Embracing life, love, and all the fears
Throw caution to the wind- and began to live- for today-
But, for one to put away the sorrows of tomorrow, to enjoy what comes with heartfelt fires-
One will need to cope with these - heartfelt desires -
Forget my name,
Forget thy child,
Became a fear,
Of so many more,
You expect me to cheer,
But you leave my soul sore,
Growing this pain,
And feeling numb,
While being trapped to far under your thumb,
Forced my hand of cards,
Shown the small heart,
Watched you rip it apart,
And take the crown,
Killed love to replace with lust,
While lust turned to rust,
And rust to dust,
You see in my eyes,
Forced hate for a man once loved,
Killed too many thoughts to be beautiful,
Followed like a soldier,
Dutiful,
Yet the only thing you call me is pitiful,
You were supposed to be loving,
You were supposed to care,
You were supposed to be a father,
You were supposed to be there,
But instead you tossed this card aside,
To throw out who you once knew,
But you taught me how to love,
So I'll teach myself how to forget you.
One:
Wake up slowly.
Admit it was never that deep.
Let your first word be hmmm.
Let your second be whatever.
Two:
Stretch, but not like you mean it.
Pop one joint, then stop.
You are not an overachiever.
You’re alive. That’s enough.
Three:
Brew something hot
and unnecessarily complicated.
Call it process.
Sip. Sigh.
Spill a little on purpose.
Four:
Reintroduce yourself
to color.
Start with gray.
Work up to a muted mustard.
No pressure.
Five:
Trust nothing that smiles too easily.
Except maybe dogs.
And one cashier
who says you’re all set
like she means it.
Six:
Throw out the list you made
of everyone who owes you.
Keep the one you made
of whom you survived—
remember who survived you.
Seven:
Don’t look for closure.
Just check your teeth for spinach
when you think you ate,
and get on with it.
Mile high eyes Miss Imagination,
beguile us with a new fairy tale.
Style the hair of an unruly wish
while writing a journey at grande scale.
No way let your eyes start to open,
throw out reality for daydreams.
Below your lids let your mind wander,
go past what is known aim for extremes.
(A lone voice whispers)
In a deep dream,
I once heard a whispered call
It came so softly
Vibrating over all my inner walls
It said boy
Stand up tall
Be courageous
Throw away all of your life's toys and climb over all your life's many walls
But I thought it was but a dream and did nothing at all
And now at ninety-eight
I'm still haunted by this soft call
Of
Boy boy
Remember
Throw out your last toy
For a 98
It's still not too late
We've still got a chance
Climb over that last wall
And together
Hand in hand
Into eternity
We'll still dance
If you can still hear this call
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Foundation.
A poem of regret and lost love.
Take down the photos
of rivers run dry
Throw out the offerings
to the gods of luck and time
Claw for the right words
Spit them out on the pavement
Carve this life into a home
Know you'll never want for comfort
Know you'll always be alone
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.