The Struggle Is Endless
after the years of struggle
the fighter now savors the spoils of the war
he sits on a rocking chair
with coffee on one hand
and cigar on the other
looks at the road in front of his house
and cams himself down with the view
a car passing by
a woman with a green scarf driving
her hair free to the directions of the wind
some children playing in the park
chasing and riding the seesaw
on to the swing
and the slide and grass
he hears laughter and mothers' reminders
and fathers fetching wife and kids
from work and school
now he is unto another struggle
he got peace and progress
he got wealth and work and whatever
tonight when the day is over
he sits again and watch the neon lights
sipping wine and puffing cigars
sleeps with lovers for rent
and comes home drunk and
tipsy
this time it is the struggle within
remorse, guilt, loveless
forlorn, alone
lifeless, bored
waking up in the morning
swallowing alka seltzers
and other pills
having breakfast with junk
and watching TV
on another unsolved murders
and scams.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Pretender
Im going to rent myself a house
In the shade of the freeway
Im going to pack my lunch in the morning
And go to work each day
And when the evening rolls around
Ill go on home and lay my body down
And when the morning light comes streaming in
Ill get up and do it again
Amen
Say it again
Amen
I want to know what became of the changes
We waited for love to bring
Were they only the fitful dreams
Of some greater awakening
Ive been aware of the time going by
They say in the end its the wink of an eye
And when the morning light comes streaming in
Youll get up and do it again
Amen
Caught between the longing for love
And the struggle for the legal tender
Where the sirens sing and the church bells ring
And the junk man pounds his fender
Where the veterans dream of the fight
Fast asleep at the traffic light
And the children solemnly wait
For the ice cream vendor
Out into the cool of the evening
Strolls the pretender
He knows that all his hopes and dreams
Begin and end there
Ah the laughter of the lovers
As they run through the night
Leaving nothing for the others
But to choose off and fight
And tear at the world with all their might
While the ships bearing their dreams
Sail out of sight
Im going to find myself a girl
Who can show me what laughter means
And well fill in the missing colors
In each others paint-by-number dreams
And then well put out dark glasses on
And well make love until our strength is gone
And when the morning light comes streaming in
Well get up and do it again
Get it up again
Im going to be a happy idiot
And struggle for the legal tender
Where the ads take aim and lay their claim
To the heart and the soul of the spender
And believe in whatever may lie
In those things that money can buy
Thought true love could have been a contender
Are you there?
Say a prayer for the pretender
Who started out so young and strong
Only to surrender
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Before Or After... Alzheimers
Dementia’s realness with no lifeline,
The burning desires spills its ashes
On reality thru the twilight years.
Memories struggle against the power
Of the black hole of nothing,
That claw at your struggle
To hold memories in a box.
A box of time zones black and white,
Now spilt out in fragments
In disarray
All around your feet,
Tapping to the memento of the rocking chair.
I of your blood, who love you so,
Cannot let you go to the shuffle rooms of an
Old peoples home.
Your glazed eyes see thru me,
Am I not real, a ghost
A shell of myself? I feel you know.
Breakfast time approaches
“Mum your tablets”
You exude repetition
“Before or after? ”
“After mum, after.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mothers Day
Mothers day
is not like valentine day
where you care for your mother like money
since in 2012 it was on monday
mothers love and care
its so good that it floats in the air
although mothers take care for the hair
since they sit bossy on the chair
children celebrate them and rejoice
while drinking coke and ice
een the mother sits while eating rice
since their day is so nice
we dance and sing
as the father gives the mother a valentine ring
she sits on the chair relaxing
since she doesnt need to be working
we thank all the mothers since they are not mean
as their day is tight like a skinny jean
their work is sweet like a dream
all you have to do is say
HAPPY MOTHERS DAY
poem by Tanaka Chirombo
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Vivaldi, concerto for flute
Children playing on a green playground
Mothers watching
Closely watching
The faces of children
Smiling
Cool air
Green leaves brown leaves yellow leaves
Soft wind
Leaves falling down to the slow soft wind
Children running
Chasing each other
They are playing
A mother feels the soft wind
Cool air
And sees the trickles of leaves
Blending green brown yellow
With sunshine as canvass
Nature and human figures of mothers and children
Blending
Amazing
What a beautiful painting has God
In quick short brushes
Effortlessly with perfect strokes did make
The frame is laughter of children.
I am taking the whole picture for home.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man Worries
the way life was
is something life
should never be
verbally and physically
abusing me
you broke me down
down to my knees
you put your hands on me
in front of my seeds
but im finally free
free to be me
free from the endless struggle
i had to endure
at the hands of someone
i thought loved me
scared to leave
cause of what you said youd do to me
afraid at times to come home
cause of how you treated me
but now im gone
and never coming back
me and the kids
are living a worry free life
i have moved on
and found a new wife
who loves me for me
and not the punching bag
you wanted me to be
i was called a punk and all that junk
because mama taught me respect
respect my wife and she will respect you
never put your hands on a woman
thats what everyone said
well who do you turn to
when its the woman putting fists to your head.
poem by Shanika Lowe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life Is What We Make It, You Are Saying That Again
and how many times will you tell me that
once, in your pocket poetry
once, you read it when you were so drunk
unable to take the right step
and say the right syllabication of your words
tipsy, you fall all alone by yourself
while i watch you
telling myself that this is another kind of life
wasted
then you are telling me again this time
when we are together going to the fields
of our own wars
as we hold our guns and read the maps
and trail the ways of the forest
life is what you make it
there seems to be an error somewhere
life is what we make it brother
we work as a team, a community, a nation, a country
a wall stronger than just anyone of us
we shall make it
we shall keep this struggle
as a nation, not just anyone of us, tipsy and drunk and hopeless
and falling alone
with the mere whisper of the wind, the whimper of the common enemy
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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1983
The real struggle started in 1983,
And i know what i have been through so far;
Because life is not very smooth always.
Fear and anger,
Love and war!
And of the death-toll in the human race to ponder over,
But life is all about peace than war.
Humanised by the military forces,
And of my years in the bush;
But now i am back home to my roots,
And this struggle started in 1983.
Life was like the creative powers of the problems at hand,
But your love has no hiding place when it is time for war!
And like the mysterious murders around me.
I am trying to get to you,
But the wind of change had taken me so long! !
And there is no retrospect on this muse,
But i live to write out my mind.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Unexpected Death
Walking towards the building
Going in
Drinking
Smoking
Hours later…
Walking... stumbling out
Fumbling with the keys
Unlocking the door
It was a nice car
New
Driving home
Switching from one lane
To another
Swerving in the road
Running lights
Hitting mailboxes
In the other car:
Driving home from work
Going to see wife and kids
Turning the corner
Lights shining right at him
Sirens
Lights
An ambulance
A death
An injured man
An unexpected death
Of a great man
Just driving home from work
poem by Cheyenne Joyner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Social democracy seeks and finds the ways, and particular slogans, of the workers' struggle only in the course of the development of this struggle, and gains directions for the way forward through this struggle alone.
quote by Rosa Luxemburg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passing The Time
By ginger baker and mike taylor
It is a cold winter,
Away is the songbird.
And gone is her traveller,
She waits at home.
The sun is on holiday,
No leaves on the trees.
The animals sleep
While cold north wind blows.
The snowflakes are falling,
The roof a white blanket.
Theres ice on the window pane,
She waits alone.
She sits by the fireside,
The room is so warm.
Her children are sleeping,
She waits in their home.
Passing the time.
Passing the time.
Everything fine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, everything fine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, everything fine.
Passing the time, wine and time rhyme.
Passing the time.
It is a long winter,
Away is the summer.
She waits for her traveller
So far from home.
She sits by the fireside,
The room is so warm.
Theres ice on the window,
Shes lonely alone.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passing The Time
By ginger baker and mike taylor
It is a cold winter,
Away is the songbird.
And gone is her traveller,
She waits at home.
The sun is on holiday,
No leaves on the trees.
The animals sleep
While cold north wind blows.
The snowflakes are falling,
The roof a white blanket.
Theres ice on the window pane,
She waits alone.
She sits by the fireside,
The room is so warm.
Her children are sleeping,
She waits in their home.
Passing the time.
Passing the time.
Everything fine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, everything fine.
Passing the time, drinking red wine.
Passing the time, everything fine.
Passing the time, wine and time rhyme.
Passing the time.
It is a long winter,
Away is the summer.
She waits for her traveller
So far from home.
She sits by the fireside,
The room is so warm.
Theres ice on the window,
Shes lonely alone.
song performed by by Cream
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Man From The Slum District
ı a m a man from a slum district
my pockets are empty and moneyı ess
in obligation
ı am a member of a fake syndicate
in the factory ı work as a laborer
ı f open my mouth
and talk against my bosses
ı will be booted and fired
find myself in the streets
ı am a man nfrom a slum district
my struggle with others is obligatary
to survive
ı drink wine which kills a dog
ı am screaming all night in the streets
against alll these
with the night watches guarding me
ı am a man from a slum district
my badly cladding is also obligatory
in beyoglu
policemen strolling..watching and batoning me
sometimes to death
ı am a man from a slum district
ı f ı touch others' wind they lick me and bruise me
my love affairs are unjust and obligatory too
fathers are on watch in front of their houses
if ı look at a girl or even gaze at their daughters
it will be the cause of the many murders
Yusuf HAYALOGLU.....Translation Metin Ş AHİ N
poem by Metin Sahin
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In Our Old Age
Comin' home from work today I saw our future
And old man and his wife were holdin' hands
They were sittin' on a front porch swing like two young lovers
I waved to them as I went by then I realized
That life does not grow dimmer with the settin' of the sun
The best years of our lives still are yet to come.
In our old age love will just get better
The longer we're together, we'll grow stronger everyday
Our bodies may get weaker and our hair will turn gray
But love will never fade in our age ( love will never fade ).
One day the kids will all be grown and theyll be leavin'
And it will be like it was years ago
We'll be sittin' on the front porch swing like two young lovers
'Cause today I just saw what our future holds...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman In The Struggle
Raving voices
Up raised fists
Marching on shoulder to shoulder
In the Front line
Having slogans
Your snapshots are invisible
May be your energy
To be advanced
As a mountain of life
Being a mother and a wife
A sister and a friend
May be give a breath
To light up the torch
History of the struggle is
Not the struggle only of the men
But the picture of unseen and unwritten
Thousands stories behind
Capricious weakness
Image of the history
Until eliminate reality
It will be also a struggle
Within the struggle
You are invisible
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Must Work To Make Ends Meet
Have you ever felt so tired as you struggle out of bed
And switch off the alarm clock with a throbbing in your head
At five thirty in the morning as dawn's lamp brighten the sky
And the fluting of the butcherbird to you is not a thing of joy.
And your wife she is still sleeping on the bed snoring she lay
You must make your own breakfast at five thirty a m of the new day
And as you leave for work at six thirty the children are asleep
But to work to keep your wife and family is a duty you must keep.
Your boss drives a new Mercedes which he need not share with his wife
He's just bought her a new B M W such are the ways of life
You work so hard for that man for what would seem as average pay
And you must drive in your old mid eighties Datsun to and from the work yard every day.
And when you ask your boss for a raise to you he always say
More young men come to me almost begging for a job start every day
You can forget a raise in wages and if you decide to quit that is okay
I won't even ask you for to stay on if working for me you don't wish to stay.
You do not like the man you work for he does not pay you nearly enough
Though you have just got to hang in there even though the going is tough
But you must work just to make ends meet you have got big bills to pay
And you drive your old eighties Datsun to and from the work yard every day.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man Has To Struggle
(Van Morrison)
Man makes his money and they call him rich
Deep down inside he knows that life's still a bitch
Man tries to keep things but they're taken away
Man has to struggle all the live long day
Man has to sweat and toil his life filled with trouble
Man got to step and fetch it on the double
Man has to work so hard to make it all pay
Man has to struggle all the live long day
Man keeps on moving 'cos he can t keep still
Man has to set his goals and climb up the hill
Man sees the mountains and the deep blue sky
Man has to struggle till the day that he die
Well yes siree Bob them there's the breaks
That's how it is my friend don't make no mistake
Man has to take some action all of the time
Man by his nature's never satisfied
Man just can't vegetate no matter what they say
Man has to make it all the live long day
Man has to create karma that s the way that it is
Man has to keep on going way beyond his will
Man has to keep on being cos there s nothing else
And man just always has to go for himself
Take all the gurus when they meditate
Transcend the mundane into some altered state
You just might get there, but you'll have to pay
Man's got to struggle all the live tong day
Well yes siree now Bob them there's the breaks
That s how it is my friend don't make no mistake
Man has to watch the weather and the food that he eats
Man has to keep fit else he's prone to disease
No matter what he does there's stress every which way
Man has to struggle all the live long day
Man is in conflict with his natural self
Man has to suppress his own desires and instincts
Man has to work so hard to keep them at bay
Man has to struggle all the l
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Old To Work And Too Young To Die
That time catches up on us all is surely not a lie
He is too old to work and he is too young to die
On retirement pension and quite bored with life
He spends much of his time arguing with his wife
On their fortieth year of marriage and love between them long dead
With a son and daughter and seven grandchildren and old age ahead
Since the warm feelings of love in their life has gone cold
They have nothing to look forward to but growing old
He and his wife in their mid to late sixties and their best years long gone
And only the will to live keeps them living on
Years ago they used to walk hand in hand to the park off of the street
But nowadays out walking them one never does meet
On his own in the pub he sits and drinks his beer
Looking rather unhappy and lacking in cheer.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paisley Park (remix)
1 2, 1 2 3
Woo!
There is a park that is known 4 the face it attracts
Colorful people whose hair on one side is swept back
The smile on their faces, it speaks of profound inner peace
Ask where they're going, they'll tell U "Nowhere"
They've taken a lifetime lease on Paisley Park
CHORUS:
The girl on the seesaw is laughing
4 love is the color this place imparts (Paisley Park)
Admission is easy, just say U believe
Then come 2 this place in your heart
Paisley Park is in your heart
There is a woman who sits all alone by the pier
Her husband was naughty and caused his wife so many tears
He died without knowing forgiveness and now she is sad, so sad
Maybe she'll come 2 the park and forgive him
And life won't be so bad in Paisley Park
CHORUS
See the man cry as the city condemns where he lives
Memories die but taxes he'll still have 2 give
(Who?) Whoever said that elephants were stronger than mules?
Come 2 the Park and play with us
There aren't any rules in Paisley Park
CHORUS {x2}
(Paisley Park is in, yeah, your heart)
Your heart (Your heart)
Paisley Park
Your heart {x3}
(Say it is in your heart)
Paisley Park {x3
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Struggle
The struggle.
Just to keep warm.
The back breaking work.
Just to keep a roof over my head.
The minimum wage slave.
Or get locked in a cage.
With choices so grim.
Sometimes one must think outside the box.
A trade illegal by any other means.
But when comes to necessities.
It goes right out the window.
With the knowledge and know how.
We would all do something of which we shouldn't be proud.
What the courts say isn't what you believe.
With money it can be bought, but your conscience can not.
Guilt never goes away, it just sits their an rots.
Becomes a poisonous apple inside you.
The struggle.
Just to keep warm.
The back breaking work.
Just to keep a roof over my head.
The minimum wage slave.
Or get locked in a cage.
With choices so grim.
Sometimes one must think outside the box.
Talents so few.
Desires dwindling.
The candle melts away.
Their is a time limit.
Have I reach it yet?
I just don't know.
How could one?
I have no crystal ball.
I have no magic cauldron.
I have no special recipe.
I'm no Einstein.
He believed time viewing was theoretically possible.
I believe of the past most certainly.
But of the future I just don't know.
The struggle.
Just to keep warm.
The back breaking work.
Just to keep a roof over my head.
The minimum wage slave.
Or get locked in a cage.
With choices so grim.
Sometimes one must think outside the box.
A dedication to every one in the world.
No matter rich or poor.
We are all human.
We all have needs.
Let not lust or ambition to succeed turn into greed.
Lets lift each other up when we need help.
Lets not abandon someone for something ugly such as indifference.
Be proud of the rarity of our existence.
Realize life is precious.
No number should ever put upon it.
And know that these decision we make determine the outcome of the entire world.
No matter how powerless you feel.
No matter futile it seems.
Know you can make a difference.
The struggle.
Just to keep warm.
The back breaking work.
Just to keep a roof over my head.
The minimum wage slave.
Or get locked in a cage.
With choices so grim.
Sometimes one must think outside the box.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All of us are trying to achieve 100 percent in our work. That's all we struggle to do. We never do, but we never stop trying until the day we die. It's that struggle to achieve 100 percent, that's where our performance lies, that's what the audience gets. They get the struggle.
quote by Vincent D'Onofrio
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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