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I Have Lost My Way

I HAVE LOST MY WAY

I have lost my way
I cannot discipline myself
I cannot overcome myself
I do not have the will I once did
I cannot confront my own past work
And do the work involved in redeeming it-
Wastrel coward and fool
Years after years given me
And I cannot bring myself to even try
To save it.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Work of Many Years

The work of many years
Lies in piles
Hidden from my care-
Years of effort
On pages most likely
Never to be read-
I don’t have the courage
To confront it
And try to save it all-
How much hope and effort did I give to those pages
No one will ever know?
How much of my life has simply been wasted
And will be thrown out in an hour as if it never were?

For years now I have been running away
From work done years before -
This poem too is a small escape
That will not save a single page
Of all I have done before.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All to War

I lost my mother
I lost my father
I lost my brother
And lost my dreams too

I lost my friends
I lost my family
I lost my sister
And lost my will too

I lost my school
I lost my work
I lost my city
And lost my rights too

I lost my day
I lost my night
I lost my sight
And lost my morning dew

(to the soul of every victim of war)

poem by Ezekiel Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fool (If You Think It's Over)

A dying flame, you''re free again
Who could love and do that to you
All dressed in black, he won't be coming back
Save your tears, you've got years and years
The pains of seventeens
Unreal, they're only dreams
Save your crying for the day
Fool if you think it's over
Because you said goodbye
Fool if you think it's over - I'll tell you why
New born eyes always cry with pain
At the first look of the morning sun
You're a fool if you think it's over
It's just begun
Miss teenage dream, sucg a tragic scene
He's knocked your crown and ran away
First wound of pride and how
you've cried and cried
But save your tears you've years and years
Fool if you think it's over
I'll buy your first good wine
We'll have a real good time
And save your crying for the day
That may not come but anyone
Fool if you think it's over....

song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I could get back the lost years

If I could get back the lost years
I would kiss and wipe all the tears
That fell when I hurt you
That I never noticed, never knew.
If I could get back the lost years
I would bring you back all the cheers
That I never really could bring you
I cared so little, I never knew.
If I could get back the lost years
I would give anything to be together
Just loving and never hurting you
That so sadly I missed, I never knew.

poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After 4 Years?

After 4 years of fighting
I'm lost?
After all dedication for you
I'm lost?
Am I lost in this fight?
It seems likely and true.

After 4 years of loving
I'm lost?
After all of our conversation
I'm lost?
Am I got the lost love?
It seems likely and true.

After these 4 years
What is going to be?
Whether I'm lost or not
It seems likely and true
Your call.

poem by Rudolph Manheim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fool

A dying flame, you're free again
Who could love and do that to you
All dressed in black, he won't be coming back
Save your tears, you've got years and years
The pains of seventeen's
Unreal they're only dreams
Save your crying for the day
Fool if you think it's over
'cos you said goodbye
Fool if you think it's over
I'll tell you why
New born eyes always cry with pain
At the first look at the morning sun
You're a fool if you think it's over
It's just begun
Miss teenage dream, such a tragic scene
He knocked your crown and ran away
First wound of pride and how you cried and cried
But save your tears you've got years and years
Fool if you think it's over
'cos you said goodbye
Fool if you think it's over
I'll tell you why
New born eyes always cry with pain
At the first look at the morning sun
You're a fool if you think it's over
It's just begun
I'll buy your first good wine
We'll have a real good time
Save your crying for the day
That may not come but anyone
Who had to pay would laugh at you and say
Fool if you think it's over
'cos you said goodbye
Fool if you think it's over
I'll tell you why

song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Separate Long Decades Have Passed

long decades have passed
polar ice caps keep melting
ghost years between all passed away

time lost in sightless mists years
but there was not one no rainbows
time left us alone poles polar apart

yet through all those lost mist years
filled with work time spectral dreaming
your name haunted mind each day

memories came ever unbidden
in thoughts intrusive odd timed
such thoughts were never far away

I hoped lost years to you were gentle kind
lost out of sight never out of memory mind
eternal youth memories face to ages blind

I see you ever in heart’s mind memory
memories that echo through eternity
in this love which endures in perpetuity

long decades have passed
polar ice caps are still melting
ghost years between all passed away

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Four Letter 'Work' Song

Work me up, work me out, work me flip side down.
Work me here, work me there, work me with renown.
Work me hot, work me greedy,
work me through and through.
Work me to the very marrow,
work me just like I'd work you.
Work me proud, work me late,
work me do not hesitate.
Won't you let me work for you?
Work me til I'm black and blue.
Work me steady, work me needy, work me to a lather.
Work me til my backbone breaks, and the buzzards gather.
Work me in, work me under, work me til I bleed,
Work me over red hot coals, work me like a boss in need.
Work me nasty, work me silly, work me through the clover.
Up down, 'n' in between, into a slipknot sweet Jehovah.
Work me, work me, go ahead.
Work me, work me, til I'm dead.

Buddy Bee Anthony

poem by Buddy Bee Anthony
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Caught Between Two Guys

Tell me tell me tell me,
Tell me what to do.
Cause I’m lost I’m lost I’m lost,
And don’t know what to do.
Two great guys, one great girl,
And they ask me to choose.

One’s left for the army two years ago,
He’s coming home and wants to have another go.
I’m lost I'm lost I'm lost,
And don’t know what to do.
The other’s been a great friend.
He’s always been there,
And promised to be until the end.

Tell me tell me tell me,
Tell me what to do.
Cause I’m lost I’m lost I’m lost,
And don’t know what to do.
Two great guys, one great girl,
And they ask me to choose.

I’ve loved one for years,
And years still to come.
While the other it’s been two year,
And yes, I guess I’ve missed him some.

Do I turn left?
Do I turn right?
Or do I go strain on my own?
Do I take the hand of the army brave?
Or the one whose road is already paved?

Tell me tell me tell me,
Tell me what to do.
Cause I’m lost I’m lost I’m lost,
And don’t know what to do.
Two great guys, one great girl,
And they ask me to choose.

copyright 2007

poem by Jess Schwarcz
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The Vampire

A fool there was and he made his prayer
(Even as you and I!)
To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair
(We called her the woman who did not care),
But the fool he called her his lady fair
(Even as you and I!)

Oh the years we waste and the tears we waste
And the work of our head and hand,
Belong to the woman who did not know
(And now we know that she never could know)
And did not understand.

A fool there was and his goods he spent
(Even as you and I!)
Honor and faith and a sure intent
But a fool must follow his natural bent
(And it wasn't the least what the lady meant),
(Even as you and I!)

Oh the toil we lost and the spoil we lost
And the excellent things we planned,
Belong to the woman who didn't know why
(And now we know she never knew why)
And did not understand.

The fool we stripped to his foolish hide
(Even as you and I!)
Which she might have seen when she threw him aside --
(But it isn't on record the lady tried)
So some of him lived but the most of him died --
(Even as you and I!)

And it isn't the shame and it isn't the blame
That stings like a white hot brand.
It's coming to know that she never knew why
(Seeing at last she could never know why)
And never could understand.

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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After All These Years I Today Do Not Know What To Do With Myself

AFTER ALL THESE YEARS I TODAY DO NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WIITH MYSELF

After all these years
I today do not know what to do with myself-

I have worked for such a long time
And now it feels as if I have no work-

I am a writer and I am writing now
So there is at least that -

But what must it be for so many retired people
Who after so many years
Find themselves with nothing to do?

How lost one is when one has so much time
And nothing to do with oneself
Except feel one's own uselessness
And inability to really do anything.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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27 Years! ! ! ! !

27 years of my life-
I lived like a wife,
waiting for my husband kiss;
Which i always missed.

27 years of my life -
Waited all the nights,
To share my happiness and sadness;
And i felt it was madness.

27 years of my life-
I spent with unknown husband,
Who has time to work;
And I felt like a jerk.

27 years of my life-
I spent with boredom,
And being a loyal wife;
I lost my freedom.

After 27 years of my life-
I still feel something missing,
I still keep looking;
And still waiting.
And the next 27 years will pass by:
Without my husband near by.

poem by Anju Addanki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Comfort in Talking Shop

there is a warmth that comes with the talk of work-
when two or more individuals converse about skills & their
prospective mutual context,
of which they may or may not have worked together in
for weeks, months or
years,
but which all parties speaking
know something about because they all hold relevant
experience
in the area being discussed-
people who genuinely work at their jobs,
whatever they may be,
are able to find a kind of sustenance in the work itself
which others may never find,
if they spend their whole lives
complaining
about every little thing it is that they do-
these individuals
may never know the comfort
which comes with discussing the simple nuances
of a job that is shared,
which brings with it no obligation except
the present work that is needed to be
done-
unlike other communities which members of a workplace may also be involved in,
together or alone,
the job
brings with it a sense of solidarity
that may be unique to our species
&
which can lead to discussions of past employment and
past experiences in our lives
revealing that our paths have led us to such a specific
juncture in time
wherein we now toil
together,
until that time when we part ways & move on.

poem by Andrew Delapruch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Payment

A tortuous path of neurons arced a call: ‘Awake! ’
I did; in rising, peering, stretching, bearing,
Pained anticipation saw it all:
Foretold, another filthy day.

I drew the drape: diluvian lay the ground
Beneath a lazy leaden cloud – apissing out
The puddles; irksome on the roof –
The drumming drops of bitter glee
Were hounding out a hapless me –
Reinforcing doubt that I am sound.

I left the house
to go to work
to earn a crust
without a perk
then on to bust
another straining vessel.

Trudging on thro’ mud and clay, I pondered:
‘Why a drought of happy times?
Auspicious climes were
Old and fusty books
Atop a dusty shelf
Inside a morgue-of-a-room,
Somewhere in a long-forgotten library
Down a lane without a way.’

I thought again: ‘And still I pay.’

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

O how I
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work

Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work:

Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work.

Oh free me please with gentle ease
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work!
This odium, pounding tedium
Of my work, sleep, work, sleep, work.

Just whisk me off to lands afar
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
That grinding train of rhythmic pain
Called ‘Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.’

Poor neural circuits fizzle and pop
In work, sleep, work, sleep, work,
In trying to make some sense of all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.

But Hark! I see a golden gleam -
A saving spirit of hope:
‘You’re fired! ’ He screams. What news to bear,
This wondrous hangman’s rope!

So now I’m free, released from all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
Eternal peace and rest for me, no
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Don't Think I Will Ever Learn To Be Humble

I don't think I will ever learn to be humble-
After so many years of rejection,
After so many failed efforts at publication,
After so much self- publication,
And in its wake
So little enthusiasm for my work,
After so much pushing of myself
And so little response to that pushing
After so much trying again and again
Over nearly fifty years,
I still write and attempt to push myself forward,
As if there still will come a vindication
A revelation and total transformation
In the way my work is seen-
It appears I will die then as a wannabe,
Still pushing still dreaming still believing
I should be what clearly I am not-
I will never learn to be humble-
I will carry to the grave
My own exaggerated idea of the worth
Of my work and the value of myself.
I will go down to the grave
The fool of my own dream
A lifelong failure.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Writting

When i feel lost lonely and have nowhere to go,
the words keep me company and im a loner no more,
Letters come together in my minds free flowing from my
heart,
Two letters one letter many letters make up words,
Long words short word
bring up sentences that form up,
my concious wades throught them picking seeking to join
short and long and make it work,
No rules to my word play anything u want can stay a
concortion a work of art,
Am lost in emotions,
lost in expressions,
pronouns adjectives and nouns,
Lay them straight,
hang them down they still are need a flow to make a sweet
sound,
The rhyme,
the time is put into consideration when iplay with all my words,
My best friend is my pen, my paper and my head there is no limit to what i can,
Its a poem am at it a work of art in progress i love the work
of my hands...

poem by Kennedy Musyoka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work Hard, Play Harder

Work seems to be mandatory,
For people like me,
Slaving over books at school,
Just to get the grades,

We don’t have much money,
So after school I work,
Cleaning, babysitting, retail,
It’s tiring after awhile,

Homework and coursework,
Two more pains of teenage life,
It seems to me that I,
Work all night and work all day,

In the future for many years to come,
I know I’ll have to work,
Uni work and training,
I’ll need a part time job too,

But then I see, between it all,
I do get a rest and have fun,
I have great times, out with friends,
Addicted to CSI,

So now I work faster,
To get it over with,
Cus my philosophy is,
Work hard now, play harder later.

poem by Cathryn Martin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Kind of Devoted Discipline

Many do not understand,
This kind of devoted discipline.

Some don't understand the benefits of discipline,
Period.

And it is difficult for them,
To connect success with a drive that is focused.

Some people believe luck is involved,
That comes to assist achievement.

And not intention...or,
The sweat of hard work and sleepless nights.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We & Dem

We no know how we and dem a-go work this out, oy!
We no know how we and dem a-go work it out.
But someone will ave to pay
For the innocent blood
That they shed every day,
Oh, children, mark my word;
Its what the Bible say, yeah! yeah!
Oh, we no know how we and dem a-go work this out;
We no know how we and dem a-go work it out.
But in the beginning jah created everythin (oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh),
Givin man dominion over all things.
But now its too late,
You see, men has lost their faith (oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh), hey-ey-hey!
Eating up all the flesh from off the earth, eh!
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out (we no know);
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out (no, we dont know);
Dub-da-dub-da-dub!
Dub-a-dippidi-doop-de-doo!
Nim-a-nummany num-na-noo!
Num-a-nummana-num-da-nay!
Dippy-dippy-dippy: dip-de-dub-de-day!
Dip-a-dubbada-dub-da-day!
But I say: we no know how we and dem a-go work it out:
Them a flesh and bone!
We no know how we and dem a-go work it out.
But we now have no friends
In-a high society, yea-a-eah!
We no have no friends;
Oh, mark my identity;
We no have no friends. oh-oh! yeah!
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out (no, we no know);
We no know how we and dem a-go work this out (we no know);
We no know how we and dem a-go work it out (no, we dont know);
(we no know how we and dem a-go work this out.) rasta!
(we no know how we and dem a-go work this out.) ilyabom! /fadeout/

song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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