Sobriety is easily achieved. It is difficult to maintain, however. I have an uphill battle on my hands, and I am really getting tired of that climb, man.
quote by Daniel Baldwin
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The battle of life is, in most cases, fought uphill; and to win it without a struggle were perhaps to win it without honor. If there were no difficulties there would be no success; if there were nothing to struggle for, there would be nothing to be achieved.
quote by Samuel Smiles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twist in my sobriety
All God's children need travelling shoes
Drive your problems from here
All good people read good books
Now your conscience is clear
Now your conscience is clear
In the morning when I wipe my brow
Wipe the miles away
I like to think I can be so willed
And never do what you say
And never do what you say
Look my eyes are just holograms
Look your love has drawn red from my hands
From my hands you know you'll never be
More than twist in my sobriety
More than twist in my sobriety
More than twist in my sobriety
We just poked a little pie
For the fun that people have at night
Late at night don't need hostility
The timid smile and pause to free
I don't care about their different thoughts
Different thoughts are good for me
Up in arms and chaste and whole
All God's children took their toll
Cup of tea take time to think yeah
Time to risk a life a life a life
Sweet and handsome soft and porky
You pig out 'til you've seen the light
Pig out 'til you've seen the light
Half the people read the papers
Read them good and well
Pretty people nervous people
People have got to sell
News you have to sell
Look my eyes are just holograms
Look your love has drawn red from my hands
From my hands you know you'll never be
More than twist in my sobriety
More than twist in my sobriety
More than twist in my sobriety.
song performed by by Tanita Tikaram
Submitted by Simona Enache
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This Life Can Be A Battle
This life can be a battle most live from day to day
And for billions of people 'tis uphill all of the way
Yet the longer that we do live the sooner we will die
And in life not everyone is equal unless you believe the lie
That everyone is born equal though with that I can't agree
That does seem patronizing talk or so 'twould seem to me
So many living in poverty and of hope in despair
Believe me 'tis a rat race in the bigger World out there
This life can be a battle for the billions in poverty
You cannot tell these people about equality
Since they would not listen to you in life they struggle on
And any hope of happiness from them seems to be gone
This life can be a battle life's uphill road is steep
And many homeless people without a bed on which to sleep.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Valley Of The Ghouls
Energized with a sacrifice,
To remain devoted to purpose...
And a disciplined life.
Is a lonely proposition...
For those walking on a path,
That breaks away from traditions.
And pre-conditions as if accepted missions.
Achieving with dignity and a motivation to fulfill...
At times can promote discouragement.
And attention from those mean spirited...
Out to kill goodwill!
And this they will...
As if skilled.
It is difficult to maintain in the valley of the ghouls.
Those who rush to confirm the dead through obituaries.
Those who nourish upon others' despair.
Those who delight in ruling over their blight!
As if this ignites their wicked moods with added fuel.
It is difficult to maintain in the valley of the ghouls.
Those rushing from repast to repast...
To sip and dine to leave.
These are the people holding their breaths...
With a more interest in death,
Than to living lives invested...
In a happiness to manifest.
It is difficult,
To maintain...
In the valley of the ghouls.
When people express,
How good someone looks...
Dressed!
And appearing...
To be at peace in a restful death!
It is difficult,
To maintain...
In the valley of the ghouls.
When people express,
How good someone looks...
Dressed!
And appearing...
To be at peace in a restful death.
Oh yes...
It is difficult,
To maintain...
In the valley of the ghouls.
When people express,
How good someone looks...
Dressed!
And appearing...
To be at peace in a restful death.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hills
Mt. Everest, Mt McKinley
are both too high to climb.
But I can climb the hills I see
and forever pray that's where you'll be.
For there's no hill that is too high,
no precipice too steep
to hike uphill
and take the leap
into the arms of love.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet- Things Change In Life
The more we climb, the more we leave behind;
To gain virtues, we must give up vices;
Each stage, we must maintain our peace of mind;
Good deeds, more temptations sure entices.
The more we climb, the fear of fall is more;
So, reinforce yourself at every stage;
Effort is more to open heavier door;
Sometimes, life's challenges, we must engage.
Sans sacrifice, great feats can't be achieved;
Sans risks and challenges, we can't do things;
Sans analgesics, pain can't be relieved;
Sans struggle, Life not much advancement brings.
The state of mind must change from woe to joy;
We ought to change some day to man from boy.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So Thoughtless Are We
Easily God is with us to please.
Caring that our needs are met.
With those dreams wished delivered...
To get and quickly forget,
How to us they came.
Like the rain does not replenish.
Or nourishes to sustain.
Easily God is there to forgive,
Those who maintain a faith.
Although allowing all,
To run into walls and make mistakes.
God understands this!
God knows what is in His or Her power,
To create.
For purposes to celebrate.
Hoping to correct,
Our reasons to hate.
But we seem so unconscious,
Of this miracle of life we have.
So thoughtless are we,
We actually believe...
God is a figment of our fantasies.
We seem so unconscious,
Of Mother Nature and of Earth.
As if 'scientists' made the Moon, Stars and Sun.
And they've proclaimed our lives the center of it.
As if our lives here on Earth...
Are the only ones lived,
In this 'massive' Universe.
Where needs to feed,
Understandings with a thirst.
With some isolated to debate their fates.
Wanting to be,
The only ones who are chosen to be 'first'.
Not only are our minds blinded...
But our eyes deceive,
Just to tease these selfish greeds.
Easily God is with us to please.
Caring that our needs are met.
With those dreams wished delivered...
To get and quickly forget,
How to us they came.
Like the rain does not replenish.
Or nourishes to sustain.
Easily God is there to forgive,
Those who maintain a faith.
But make mistakes.
God understands this!
God knows what is in His or Her power,
To create.
God gives.
And only from us God can take!
So much.
And yet...
Surprise us with much more.
If we accept and appreciate,
Why we are here.
And 'WHO' and 'WHAT' IT is,
Our lives are lived here for!
'Place no other gods before ME!
That's ALL I ask!
How difficult 'is' that task? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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These Are New Days We Live
Difficult it is,
To maintain a persona...
Of righteousness.
With a squeaky clean integrity.
When one has been revealed to be...
An abuser of truth,
Who tell lies consistently.
Difficult it is,
To use the same tired tactics.
When one has been discovered,
To have been undermining others.
With no shame connected to it!
How can someone like this,
Retrieve a dignity?
Or come face to face...
With those backstabbed and disgraced?
How can anyone replace,
So much time 'wasted'?
Difficult it is,
To maintain a persona...
Of righteousness.
With a squeaky clean integrity.
When one has been revealed to be...
An abuser of truth,
Who tell lies consistently.
And lives a life that secretly deceives.
There is only one alternative,
Someone like this chooses...
When that 'cat-has-been-pulled-out-of-the-bag'!
Although,
The fact of the act of this is quite sad!
And a running away to hide is done.
To protect one's pride...
In familiarized denial!
That's it.
One puts oneself on trial.
To self inflict their own judgements.
That's it!
To run and hide has become their custom.
Too many people like this,
Can be observed as mentally sick!
And too many people like this...
Have gotten away with it.
In the past.
But these are new days we live!
Revelations like these eventually heal.
With no patience left,
To give time to those who slander and kill...
Minds!
At the expense to fulfill their own 'will'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dave
Tired of his long uphill battle in life
And tired of being nagged by his cranky old wife
Dave feels like a bird rejected by his flock
And the chip on his shoulder has grown to a block.
Tired of the fellows he meet at the pub
Waffling on about their football club
The praises of their sporting heroes so many do sing
Sports or sports people for him doesn't do anything.
His wife Lyn and he in ideas far apart
All the love he had for her gone out of his heart
Together under the one roof they may be growing old
But now towards each other they seem very cold.
Their only child a son Sam in his mid twenties lives and works in Japan
One who is successful a clever young man
He feels happy in his life on a distant shore
And they have not seen him for three years or more.
On his own at the Local pub he sits and drinks his beer
Grown men talking of football he does not wish to hear
And when he goes home he must cook his own tea
Since he and his Mrs Lyn do not agree.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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S1
the myth of sisyphus
somehow after 50 years
is no longer a myth.
the rock is as true as the
inclined uphill
climb
i breathe
and take some air
for i shall climb again
and put this rock
and roll it down again
and put it up again
i breathe
more life
and haven't mentioned yet
that death
is a reasonable option.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For Many
For many life is an uphill battle the years have brought gray to your hair
And your face that has known many Seasons wears the lines of worry and care
The boys and girls you went to school with like you have known a better day
And old father time keeps on ticking and ticking and ticking away.
For many life is never easy and some do look old for their years
Too young for an early retirement they age in their phobias and fears
They worry about money matters and they work hard just for to get by
Their life is a tough uphill journey uphill till the day that they die.
The wealthy they say have their worries money does not guarantee happiness
But their worries would be far greater if they were in a financial mess
Who would not wish to be wealthy and unhappy than to be unhappy and poor
At least if you have heaps of money you do feel financially secure.
For many life is a tough journey it is uphill all of the way
They do not look into the future they only live from day to day
It's a struggle just for to make ends meet to provide for their family
The working poor are not now uncommon they work to live in poverty.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Typecasting Factor
There has been achieved,
The worst oil disaster in recorded history.
And with this accomplishment,
All eyes can see...
It will become extremely difficult,
To accuse others as being incompetent.
With a developed concept,
To implement as an instrument.
Running away from accountable responsibilities,
Had in the past been a priority used effectively.
But a duping with a hoodwinking successfully done...
Is today not that easily to inflict on minds to believe.
This disaster has a typecasting factor!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Pope
new pope
further down the line from christ
an uphill battle to get us to him
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The big hurdle is going out and raising the revenue. There's no doubt about that; it's an uphill battle.
quote by Terry Porter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walking on....
Life's hills roll on into the distance
The road flowing,
Each uphill ended by sunshine
Each valley, rest and respite -
Strength gathering for the next climb
Would the sunshine feel as warm?
The respite so sweet -
But for the hardship, it’s exhausting climb!
Yet life's path seldom allows,
Us forget the pain!
Yet joy fades however -
Brief once spent
poem by Michele Clucas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Precious
can't hold you down
can I be you
there's nothing I can do
a slave to your hands
climb up above
your precious time
don't worry your time
don't hurry your mind
where did you go
where did you hide
all I can do
is watch you pass by
climb up above
your precious time
don't worry your time
don't hurry your mind
everytime I try to take it back
I know I don't wanna live like that
I'll wait for tomorrow
too tired to go the other way
too late to wait another day
I'm going on
climb up above
your precious time
don't worry your time
don't hurry your mind
climb up above
your precious time
don't worry your time
don't hurry your mind
song performed by by Lifehouse from Stanley Climbfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm Tired
I'm tired of people messing with me
I'm tired of people treating me wrong
I'm tired of people saying I stank
I'm tired of people remembering the past
I'm tired of black people
I'm tired of stupid people
I'm tired of selfish people
I'm tired of being the target all the time
I'm tired of feeling sad
I'm tired of people thinking there better than everybody else
I'm tired of people not appreciating me
I'm tired of being tired
I'm tired of being tired
I'm just tired
poem by Shawanda Polk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ignoring A Belligerent Drunk
The man won't stop drinking.
Picking fights with his wife every night.
He thinks it is not an addiction.
He thinks it is not an affliction.
But I know better I've seen it before.
I've been down that road of misery, malcontent, depression, and anger.
To live without it is the sobriety that I think he needs.
But the only way to accomplish this is going broke indeed.
His wife could leave him and he wouldn't even take notice.
He is at a loss.
He doesn't know how to treat his friends.
He wasn't always this way.
He picked up a bottle and never put it down.
The alcoholic is no better then the heroin addict.
Their both out to destroy themselves and everybody else.
Sure their methods in the way it enters the body are different
But the effects can be equally catastrophic.
When the junky gets clean they will be alone and not easily trusted.
When the alcoholic gets sober they will be alone and not easily trusted.
Some mistakes once done are not so easily undone.
An excuse is only valid if it wasn't self induced.
Otherwise you are responsible like it or not.
With expectations abroad.
I can say I have taken the higher road.
It is sometimes lonely but it is the one I have taken.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Vices
’Tis easy slipping down any ladder;
’Tis easy to tumble down the hillside;
’Tis easy to fall down from a tree-top;
’Tis easy to slip off footboard of bus.
’Tis hard to climb the rungs of Life’s- ladder
’Tis hard to ascend the steep mountain- side;
’Tis hard to climb the slippery tree-trunk
’Tis hard to keep Balance on alcohol!
’Tis hard to maintain virtues in one’s life;
’Tis hard to maintain the balance of mind;
’Tis hard to do just the good things in life;
’Tis hard to keep off from wine, women, sex.
’Tis easy to contract vices on Earth;
’Tis hard to shake them off, even by stealth.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weary With No Remorse
The end of the road for the tired aching body
is welcomed with open arms.
For the toil and labor while living
is accepted and never alarms
the ones that accept their fate.
But the moneymaker and money lender
who's built his life on lies
can never accept his fortuneless end
no matter how he tries.
All their lives they've been lacking in grace
and never understood
how the ones who struggle for life
have always withstood
all the strife that is theirs while they're living
and cast aside their pain?
While the money maker and money lender
moves forward and does remain
soulless until he dies.
For the blind to see he must awaken to truth
and become what he's not been,
kind, compassionate with awareness of deeds
that were rotten to the core with sin.
For all that glitters is certainly not gold
and cannot be counted on.
The mountainous climb of the tired and poor
is hard and all uphill.
And yet the spirit of those who toil
allows for their bucket to fill.
It fills with the knowledge that accompanies life
and is sated in the end
with every solitary contentment that comes
as he does ascend,
while never looking back.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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