Poetry Everyday

[Edna]

"The Way Life Moves"


Life moves like wind across the sea,
Not always where we think it'll be.
It shifts, it sways, it steals, it gives,
And still we rise, and still it lives.


A smile appears, then fades from view,
A stranger helps, a dream comes true.
And though the road is never straight,
There's beauty found in every fate.


We learn to let, we learn to keep,
We wake from grief, we fall to sleep.
And in the space from birth to end,
We lose, we grow, we break, we mend.

 

[EMS]

So I'm going to start off with this one.....

Here I sit lonely hearted,
Wanted a sht but only farted.

 

[Edna]

"Alive in the Now"


Don't wait for life to feel complete,
It's in the dust beneath your feet.
It's in the pause between two breaths,
The beating heart that never rests.


It's not some prize we chase and find,
But moments met with open mind.
A stranger's laugh, a cup of tea,
A sky that shifts so endlessly.


The storm will come, the calm will go,
And we will change more than we know.
But through it all, the truth somehow:
We're not just living — we are now.

 

[b1u3eyes]

Standing in the station with so many byways,
folks from all around in and out.
handing over my four pieces of baggage that's tag h.w.c.
holding on to my ticket,
"line up a loud voice over the intercom says"
walking until seeing a spot.
standing in line can't see ahead.
it's like step today and wait,
can't fall asleep people behind cut ahead.
empty stomach and afraid,
turn has went by.
begins to weep,
then hearing a voice, saying hold on.

Train of Life

 

[Edna]

"The Quiet Things"

It's not the loud, the grand, the bold,
That shape our lives or make us whole.
It's in the quiet things we do—
A look, a word, a moment true.

It's morning light on wrinkled sheets,
The sound of passing feet on streets.
It's hands that hold when days feel long,
And tears that teach us to be strong.

Life doesn't shout—it softly sings,
In broken parts and mended things.
So if you ask what life is for—
It's love, it's loss, and always more.

 

[Edna]

"Just This"

Life is not always loud or clear,
It doesn't wait, it won't appear
Only when we're fully ready—
It comes in waves, both wild and steady.

It's in the dishes left undone,
The setting moon, the rising sun.
It's every step we didn't plan,
Each time we fall, and rise again.

There's no great secret to unfold,
No final truth we all are told—
Just this: to feel, to try, to be,
To meet the world, and still be me.

 

[EMS]

"The Burp"
Pardon me for being so rude,
It was not me it was my food,
If it came closer to my heart,
It would have come out as a fart

 

[b1u3eyes]

I've been waiting / to be in / this hell here / with you

Alice Notley

 

[Edna]

"The Days We Carry"


Some days are heavy, full of grey,
While others laugh and slip away.
But all are pieces, side by side,
Of who we are, of how we ride.


We carry joy, we carry pain,
We walk through loss, we dance in rain.
And though the road is never straight,
Each step we take rewrites our fate.


So hold today, let sorrow pass—
Like footprints fading in the grass.
For life is made of now, not then—
A chance to fall, get up again.

 

[Edna]

"Still Becoming"

We are not finished, not yet done,
Each day a thread, each breath begun.
We're stories written line by line,
Some parts unclear, but all are mine.

Mistakes don't mean the end has come,
They're footsteps toward who we become.
We're not the past, not all we've lost—
We're shaped, not stopped, by every cost.

So take the day, the now, the flame,
The quiet wins, the whispered name.
For life's not built in leaps or fame—
But in the growing, just the same.

 

[b1u3eyes]

Some one came knocking
At my wee, small door;
Someone came knocking;
I'm sure-sure-sure;
I listened, I opened,
I looked to left and right,
But nought there was a stirring
In the still dark night;
Only the busy beetle
Tap-tapping in the wall,
Only from the forest
The screech-owl's call,
Only the cricket whistling
While the dewdrops fall,
So I know not who came knocking,
At all, at all, at all.

 

[Edna]

"A Life Like This"

A life like this is made, not found—
In scattered light and common ground.
In morning toast, in evening breeze,
In falling down and finding peace.

It's not a race, it's not a test,
But moments when we've done our best.
It's laughing when we want to cry,
And daring still to ask but why?

It's giving love without a claim,
And walking on through loss and flame.
No perfect script, no flawless bliss—
Just one more breath, a life like this.