www.PoemsAbout.com

     Home | Contact Us

Poems On / About LIFE  4/19/2015 2:54:13 AM
Search For Poems & Poets:
POEMS ON:
• alone
• america
• angel
• anger
• baby
• beach
• beautiful
• beauty
• believe
• brother
• butterfly
• car
• change
• chicago
• childhood
• cinderella
• courage
• crazy
• dance
• daughter
• death
• depression
• dream
• family
• fire
• freedom
• friend
• funny
• future
• girl
• god
• graduation
• greed
• haiku
• hair
• happiness
• happy
• heaven
• hero
• home
• hope
• house
• husband
• identity
• joy
• june
• kiss
• laughter
• life
• lonely
• loss
• lost
• love
• lust
• marriage
• memory
• mirror
• money
• mother
• murder
• music
• nature
• night
• paris
• passion
• peace
• pink
• poverty
• power
• racism
• rain
• red
• remember
• respect
• river
• rose
• school
• sick
• sister
• sky
• sleep
• soldier
• song
• sonnet
• spring
• star
• success
• summer
• sun
• swimming
• sympathy
• teacher
• time
• together
• travel
• trust
• truth
• war
• work
 

 

Best Poems About / On LIFE
 
 
 
<< prev. page

Page: 1 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 30 40 50 60 70 90

next page >>

 
   
 

  73.     

Understanding One's Life Anytime

Our life is like a big school In which we're permanently students From our birth to our death... From the moment we come to this life, We start getting things from here and there To understand things around us... Some people pass this life greatly and wonderfully And cross into their better life anytime... Some people stay as is without moving one inch Towards a better life anytime... Some people fail hundred-percent in this life Because they have not learned anything from our life... That big school, that is called our life, gave Us many things, but some people's choice was not well... If someone takes things personal or one's moodiness Does not help him or help her to be with people, then That complete failure will one's permanent ally anytime... Our life is divers, but Our choices are not always diverse, so Some people's life goes on great while others' life Fails greatly to the bottom... It's better to learn from that school of life rather than Blaming others for nonsense or anything else... We all look forward to be or not to be anytime... ______________________________________________________________________
 
MOHAMMAD SKATI

Read more poems from MOHAMMAD SKATI >>>
   
 

   
   
 

  74.     

A Cloudy Thought

I'm oddly old

young-mind paradox

eyes glassed
see all
play ‘Catch-a-Subject'

snapshot brain races
blowing in the words

oldoldoldoldold!

I'm effin' old
legs last another walk
along the high street

eyes crawl flit crawl

FLIT!

The Leggy Girl
gorgeous
captured
lashes long
longing
accentuate the blink of blue

solid bounce of bust
titillates

SHE KNOWS

knows not of me
feeling her with metaphors
notching up a fantasy
with palimpsest
and ink
deep I go

oldoldoldoldold!

I'm youthfully old
no subcutaneous fat for Slaughter
Mark R. Slaughter's wiry arm
twisty stubborn

my psalm of life
my pen
my strange imagination
battle on

a back-street wander steals a shifty cat
death-night charcoal
he's fifteenth century lore and ghost
and eyes me up for terror target

he'll do for written thought!

on: the morrow of a day
and I meander by the water

the pond ponders
shares my recollections
captured in a unison of gliding ripples
riding o'er the mirror
like fingers lightly stroking mammary skin
a sensuous trail
to happen o'er her nipples

and in the blur
reflections
dance in grand contortions
thro' a space-time wake of swans
consumed in melancholic muse

oldoldoldoldold!

I'm old
yet I'm at home with age
age-old age
adage-riddled
strewn across a page
drowned
in second-rate sketches

I catch a cloudy thought
within the yin and yang of sleep
search inside my drunken face
jaundiced with the nicotine
of thigh-blessed cigars

ears closed
I droop to Thirties' blues
draw on the harp
forget the worries
let whiskers grey.

…

Though sparse,
The mist of mind hangs;
And yet I capture all the
Strumming chords,
Finger-picking neural play
To freshen up the brain,
Goad me think:

For once I do -!

And yet again,
I think of you!


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012











































































































































Lines of Life
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012

life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life
life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life
life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life
life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life
life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life
life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life
life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life
life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life
life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life

and how they take us far!
 
Mark R Slaughter

Read more poems from Mark R Slaughter >>>
   
 

   
   
 

  75.     

Smoker

I billowed calmly as a cloud
Upon a course for acid rain,
When in the fog of smoking crowd,
My lungs collapsed in searing pain.

Full of soot and black with tar,
I coughed in vain for chest to clear;
At least my lungs had got this far
Despite my years of toxic air.

But Smokers' Lounge was home to me,
Where fellow addicts puff with joy:
Our pipes in hand, all friends are we,
‘Let's fine cigars now share, my boy! '

‘So gasp away! ' my motto cries,
‘And light another cigarette
Before a further smoker dies,
Which happens often - you can bet! '


Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009






































































































life life life life life life life life life
life life life life life life life life life
life life life life life life life life life
life life life life
 
Mark R Slaughter

Read more poems from Mark R Slaughter >>>
   
 

   
   
 

  76.     

This Is Reality

My father was an alcoholic that tried to drink his sorrows away. My mom, a battered wife. I was the innocent child that had to live the life as a ghetto hood rat. Stereotypes started when I was young. I was never going to amount to nothing and be just like my mother and father. That was my reality. I couldn’t run away from my fears because at an early age I was taught that if I did decide to run I was going to be killed by the thugs that preyed on little children. A problem child is what they would call me. Although I would make straight A’s, keep our apartment clean, and never get in trouble with the law. I would walk down the streets at night trying to imagine my life differently. The police would stop me for the simple fact that I was black. They see me and they smell blood, they smell fear because they know just like I know that my rights no longer exist. You live in the neighborhood where you are afraid to go to sleep. My parents sleep on the couch that they found on the side of the road, left for the bums. We don’t have a trash man to come here because the last two were killed by gang members. I sleep on the floor having to make a pallet every night. That there isn’t love, that isn’t sacrifice. In the neighborhood where it is normal to hear gunshots. Where if you look a person wrong you should automatically fear for your life. The life where my father would come home with a bottle of liquor that costs 8 dollars but yet he has no food to put on the table. The fridge empty and my stomach growling. Hunger pains fills my stomach. No water because my father refused to pay the bill. No electricity, we use candles and I always hope that the fired wax would drop to the floor and burn. Burn my parents and burn me so I can release and let go. Not having to worry about anything and just relax. My father comes in the house leaning to the sides and knocking stuff over. He falls to the ground and his glass of liquor breaks. I stand there hoping that the glass went through his heart. Lord only knows how many times he stabbed me in mine. The life where I don’t hear “I love you”, but on tv. The life where my dad can’t afford to buy his daily dose of coke and beats me for it. Where I’m so use to it I no longer feel pain. The life of when my mom tries to help but he turns on her and then she turns on me for getting her beat. The life that when my school notices my bruises and asked me about it, it’s been beat into my head to say “it’s nothing”. It’s been beat in my head to say “I fell, I slipped, I tripped”. Instead of telling them the whole truth, my father is an alcoholic and he takes all his problems out on me with his fist, legs, and words. They ask me why I eat too much at school. Stealing my classmates lunch boxes and devouring their chips, sandwiches, and juices. The life where I know God doesn’t love me because if he did he wouldn’t put me in this predicament. The life I live is a human that doesn’t want this life anymore. The life where I cut myself to cope with my emotions. The life that whenever I close my eyes I see myself dangling from a sheet I tied myself, hanging from the ceiling fan. The life where suicidal thoughts are apart of my sickness. The life where the word “misunderstood” defines me.
 
Icsis Watson

Read more poems from Icsis Watson >>>
   
 
 
<< prev. page

Page: 1 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 30 40 50 60 70 90

next page >>

 

 
BEST POEMS:  (Click on a topic to list and read the poems)
• angel poems
• 
beautiful poems
• 
death poems
• 
friend poems
• girl poems
• 
home poems
• 
hope poems
• 
kiss poems
• life poems
• 
loss poems
• 
love poems
• 
music poems
• nature poems
• 
rain poems
• 
school poems
• 
sex poems
• soldier poems
• 
summer poems
• 
sun poems
• 
war poems
 
(c) Poems are the property of their respective owners.
All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge.. 
Contact Us | About Us | Copyright notice | Privacy statement

Poems On / About LIFE