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9 Poems About The Journeys Through Life

Restore your mind with poetry
theres-life-in-poetry

9 Poems About The Journeys Through Life

Please enjoy this little collection of poems about the journeys we live through life. Some journeys find us, but we have to make life happen, or we will end up lost with no help. These poems will help heal your mind and move you forward with family, friends and loved ones. Listen to the chitter-chatter inside your mind; this defines who you are; especially, among the billions of people that will one day be part of your odyssey.

Life Has Been Here

Life has been here for a long time.
I sip my glass of cider and peer into it with my mind.
The bubbles explode as they hit the surface,
reminding me that life – is watching with the sounds of fizzing purpose.

The night sky gives away all her secrets;
to watching eyes with thoughts of deepness.
Life has been here for a long time; it’s fragile, but robust like the two sides of a dime.
The noisy hedgehog eats the cat food as I smile and watch the wife drink white wine.

There is no need for talking,
we did all our fast walking,
in the morning when the haze made us walk in a line.
If you listen carefully,
you can hear the twinkle of the Moon.
He shines across the flower beds – exposing beetles that sing a tune.

Life has been here for a long time.
I can taste the sour-sweet apples with a hint of lemon and lime.
The candle flickers in the cold,
offering no warmth,
but it feels cosy to look at while the blanket covers our sides.

The neighbour’s chatter,
the fox barks in the snow,
people drive their fast cars –
outside in the road.
The alcohol is making us feel numb,
drowning out any inhibitions –
inherited by old folk.
I like this feeling;
I have nowhere to go,
I close my eyes and relax – so time can slow.

I snap open another bottle and fill the glass up –
just below the white line.
The silence is wonderful;
the night grows thicker in darkness,
breathing becomes sharper in this moment of wondrous glow.
She smiles at me,
and I smile back because we both know that this time is ours.

Life has been here for a long time.
I know because I’m here,
thinking about the beginning and the ending through my mind.
One day my taste buds will stop,
my eyes will wobble as the last salted tear starts to drop.
My breath will shallow,
and then it will stop,
life will cease as all the memories get lost.
All of life’s moments will combine into one,
but a vision will be held –
defining all that I’ve done.

Maybe,
it will be all the evenings in the garden,
the day I got married
or children playing and dancing?
All I know – is this thought will be happy!
Because one day,
life will show me it was zappy and snappy.

I sit up and awake from my dream.
It’s getting late as I quietly lock the garden gate.
We shut the backdoor and turn the key,
switching all the lights off as we tiptoe and weave.
The children are still sleeping;
the duvet covers look pleasing;
it’s time to cuddle up
from the night air that’s still freezing.

I look forward to another day,
where life becomes a time
in a different way.
Life has been here for a long time;
let’s enjoy it while we still can.

Naked

I was born naked into this world.
Did I ask to be here?
A question I can’t converse.
Loved and kissed;
washed and fed;
cuddled and taught that was all to be read.

The layers of society seem complex,
with the people trying their very best.
Money and bills;
tax and the NHS;
a pension pot to retire on before they say “dead!”

I read the books in the library;
my health and stature define me;
I looked for God and never found him.
Religion and spirituality;
meditation and morality;
wealth leads to inequality,
while capitalism undermines me.

My children are born naked into this world.
I asked them to be here.
A question I can now converse.
Loved and kissed;
washed and fed;
cuddled and taught that is all to be read.

My eyes are open to the complexity of society,
and people are still trying to do their best.
Credit cards and renting homes;
student loans and endless debt;
I will still own nothing before my death.

I’m playing the game of society
but it offers me no peace or success.
Stocks and shares;
bonds and interest;
lines on a graph that means More or Less.

Wealth is not in money.
Health can’t be purchased with plastic banknotes or honey.
Laughs and smiles;
memories and stories;
be rich in life without all the commodities.

Everything I own is borrowed,
I’m naked underneath this breath
because that’s how it really is –
for life to start and be fresh.
Feelings and emotions;
love and devotion;
care for each other and leave naked!
After – life – is – spent.

Footpaths

Empty beaches meet lands of fields
with castles built from grey lifeless stones.
Busy roads seek villages and towns;
be warned if they lead to the city underground.
Footpaths show you the way home
with wild grass asking to be pulled in your hand.
All rivers lead to the Sea;
if you had a boat, you could travel and see.

A Stag stands in the middle of a ploughed field,
he watches and runs quickly to the hills.
Pheasants hide in the bushes,
but only come out when there’s no sound.
The black cat sits on the fence,
but she’s too fat to catch a mouse.
Green and brown grass snakes – can never be found.

An alleyway leads to a disturbing room.
The shop floor is filled with food for the poor.
Copper wire provides electricity to every home,
but some people can’t afford to turn the switch on.
Someone just died from the cold.

There’s a road that leads to the end of the world.
There’s a book that tells all the dreams to be told.
A lonely man reaches the top of a mountain but is greeted by a goat.
Walk with your friends before that meteorite explodes.

The dark leads to light and light to dark.
I’ve seen a Star reach through the curvature of a blackholes arc.
Your blue eyes are powerful;
your brown eyes are beautiful.
Ginger eyes are only given to the wonderful.
I’ve never seen green eyes look so peaceful.

All rivers lead to the Sea.
Busy roads seek villages and towns.
Empty beaches meet lands of fields.
Footpaths show you the way home.

Friend

I’m your friend.
The person who listens to you –
talks back – puts you on the mend.

We grew up together within those houses
that boxed us in like a pigpen.
How could we never forget?
All those times, we threw a fist in the den.
We shared the bus seat.
We talked about the girls and waited for them –
again and again.
We made a packed to be each others best men.
You watched my back, and I watched you back,
especially when you stood up for me again.
We shared all our secrets and learned from our mistakes.
The pubs awaited our company as we stood and drank,
then stood and danced.

I’m your friend.
The person who listens to you –
talks back – puts you on the mend.

I remember your first girlfriend.
I remember because it was lonely at the weekend.
But we met up again and shared stories about all that was,
and what will become of us.

We met up from time to time,
but those times stretched into weeks,
months and then years –
into dust.

We smile like each other.
We talk the same.
Our wives hang their head in shame
because when we do finally meet up again –
we act like kids from that place we came.

We watch our own kids grow up.
Our sons and daughters seem a little less rough.
Their childhood won’t be the same as us.

We made it through those terrible jobs.
We rose into men from the kids on that concrete estate.
We lost other friends and made new ones.

We hug each other because we are the same.
I’m your friend, your best mate.

Les & Dave.

Cured Poetry Book BUY The book today!

Brother

I’ve got a younger brother
he’s just the same as me.
We grew up together
and had a one year gap between our age.
He’s blond, bigger built and has all the brains.
I’m dark, stringy looking and live into a gaze.

We loved each other in the younger days.
We grew to hate each other through those teenage ways.
One day, things changed,
and we found each other on a moment of pain.

He started to talk,
and we shared each others journey from this maze.
I taught him all the things he couldn’t see,
and he showed me things academically.
Our conversations led to employment,
so we built things and turned them into enjoyment!

Our bond will last until the grave.
We call each other on different days.
Sometimes,
we still meet up
and discuss how life is extraordinary.

Our memories are packed with all our foundations;
we never needed any invitations.
Because in the end,
we knew each other from the beginning
and life would have never been the same.

Stephen & Dave.

Can’t

I’m not a writer.
I’m no poet.
I can’t speak a story or tell a joke – If I don’t know it.

I can’t write code.
I can’t design.
I could never build a garden with these hands that are mine.

I can not.
I can.
I’m broken but fixable in my mind.

Thoughts Through Words

The wallet sits empty – (full of receipts).
Ibuprofen sits in my hand – (pink sweet).
The coffee awaits my dry lips – (evaporation).
The mouse moves with my right arm – (I’m left-handed).
White keys make up their own words – (sequence).
I question my existence – (alive).
Lower back pain hurts me – (misery).
No acknowledgements – (credentials).
Three rainbows in a row – (means nothing).
(These are my thoughts) – these are my words.
It means what you want it to mean – (perspective).

Happiness

Happy feelings create memorable thoughts.
Smiling with wonder and listening to jokes.
Laugh until your head hurts.
Happiness! Is you and me in powwow!

We smile when we meet old friends.
We tell lost stories to make amends.
We whisper into our coffee cups and raise an eyebrow to the sounds of deluded comments.

Happiness is found in the quiet corner, under a stone or in a moment of wonder.
Laugh until the tears hit your cheeks.
Giggle like the colour of red blossoming tweed.
Tell me that story again, when we laughed so hard – we wet ourselves.

We smile when we meet new friends.
We tell old stories to make amends.
We drink into our wine vase and watch the men drink from their pint glass.

I’ve seen things that make you laugh out loud.
Do you remember that time when the cat danced with the mouse?
A squirrel fell out of a tree – died! Then awoke with a scream.
That old man farted in the queue, and a woman in front shouted – phew!
I purchased a pair of woolly pants and only wore them once.
My teacher sat on a drawing pin and pretended nothing happened.

We smile when we meet our friends.
We tell all our stories to make amends.
We drink, we eat, we share our treats; to remember the days diverting.

I’ve fallen out of bed laughing.
I stubbed my toe while cursing.
We laugh at our family conversing.
Can you feel the joy in your heart submersing?

Smile – Laugh – Happiness –
It’s just a thought away.

Eloquent

Words can be heard in every unspoken song.
Key’s vibrating through the piano feel undisturbed.
Toxic pink with luminous green – crash into a twirl.
A supernova from a dead star makes no sound.
Two thousand words have no bond, tell no story and look absurd.
Six guitar strings vibrate through the air
and whisper universal secrets to a listening butterfly.
Antibacterial hand gel makes the germs drunk and numb.
The flickering light bulb speaks to you in Morse Code.
A man at the bus stop has no home.
A young girl cries in the shopping centre looking for her Mum.
The night sky still has a Sun.
Damp on the wall penetrates your lungs.
The ceiling in your house has a roof.
Energy in your body escapes as a soul.
Death is life and life is death, but you know.
Which came first? Life or the seed?
I will leave you now to rest in peace.

You can buy the poetry book – Cured – here

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david irvine

Do your own thing in your own way and get what you came here for. I have a little book collection on Amazon - Enjoy!

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