Here is a list of Health Poems ordered by Last Viewed, posted by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
3AM
Wide awake it's 3 AM
insomnia, can't sleep again
movies playing, theater of mind
times long past, another life
haunted by so many memories
inside recalling ancient history
what was said, what I did
people and pets since I was a kid
brief and long lived interactions
who, what, why, and how they happened
things that shaped me when I was young
every picture framed and hung
sights, sounds, scents, stored sacrosanct
black and white or colored paints
wide awake, the stories speaking
Keeping me from resting, sleeping...
©? Antonio Acosta
insomnia, can't sleep again
movies playing, theater of mind
times long past, another life
haunted by so many memories
inside recalling ancient history
what was said, what I did
people and pets since I was a kid
brief and long lived interactions
who, what, why, and how they happened
things that shaped me when I was young
every picture framed and hung
sights, sounds, scents, stored sacrosanct
black and white or colored paints
wide awake, the stories speaking
Keeping me from resting, sleeping...
©? Antonio Acosta
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2022
About this poem:
Meh...couldn't sleepMight as well write about it...
run, run, run
one foot two foot three foot four maybe more,
alarms ring within thy head at seven in the morn,
out the bed in thy shorts out the door to the sun i do meet ,
when its shining in the street i put my feet arms width ahead,
i run i run as fast as ten cheetas born into the wild,
how my body never lets go its worse than addiction
how i move how i run can you catch me old tom thumb,
or will you join me and run run run.
alarms ring within thy head at seven in the morn,
out the bed in thy shorts out the door to the sun i do meet ,
when its shining in the street i put my feet arms width ahead,
i run i run as fast as ten cheetas born into the wild,
how my body never lets go its worse than addiction
how i move how i run can you catch me old tom thumb,
or will you join me and run run run.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2011
About this poem:
ive been going to the gym what more could be said
Lost Never To Be Found
Lost, never to be found. Time for the circus to come into town.
Everyone wears a smile. While I'm hidden behind a mask of a frown. Around and round. Someone help me off this merry go round. In so deep. No chance of ever being found. My God I'm sinking about to drown. Watch as my broken heart falls into pieces to the ground. I'm screaming yet nobody hears a single sound. Buried alive. How hard does my heart pound?
My heart and soul are dipped into an ocean of teardrops. Seems like this sadness never really ever stops. Here I am bound by the planet Mars. Somehow found by the greatness of stars in a universe of pain. Only to be lost and not found yet once again.
Everyone wears a smile. While I'm hidden behind a mask of a frown. Around and round. Someone help me off this merry go round. In so deep. No chance of ever being found. My God I'm sinking about to drown. Watch as my broken heart falls into pieces to the ground. I'm screaming yet nobody hears a single sound. Buried alive. How hard does my heart pound?
My heart and soul are dipped into an ocean of teardrops. Seems like this sadness never really ever stops. Here I am bound by the planet Mars. Somehow found by the greatness of stars in a universe of pain. Only to be lost and not found yet once again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2016
About this poem:
Straight from my heart. Prayers please. Due for another surgery next week. Thanks. Bless u.
true story; couple days ago
cruising down a two lane
doing 62 in a 55
just got empty my
18 wheeler
sunny day
not a thing can go wrong
was a little ways away
for the car in front
saw his brake lights
for I knew I couldn't stop
he hit them hard
had not got a choice
looked around what can I do
turned his signal on
and hit them even harder
was on him in a second
no place to go on this two lane
couldn't pass on the left
he would turned into me
had no choice
went to the right
was either him
or me in a ditch
i chose the ditch
maybe I had a chance
not much room
a 5ft shoulder
the car went to the middle
just a little
gave me just enough room
for me to take that shoulder
I avoided him and the ditch
don't ask me how
an angel must been watching
for sure he/she woud been killed
only takes a second
for things to go wrong
even on a beautiful day
doing 62 in a 55
just got empty my
18 wheeler
sunny day
not a thing can go wrong
was a little ways away
for the car in front
saw his brake lights
for I knew I couldn't stop
he hit them hard
had not got a choice
looked around what can I do
turned his signal on
and hit them even harder
was on him in a second
no place to go on this two lane
couldn't pass on the left
he would turned into me
had no choice
went to the right
was either him
or me in a ditch
i chose the ditch
maybe I had a chance
not much room
a 5ft shoulder
the car went to the middle
just a little
gave me just enough room
for me to take that shoulder
I avoided him and the ditch
don't ask me how
an angel must been watching
for sure he/she woud been killed
only takes a second
for things to go wrong
even on a beautiful day
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
highway 33 in wisconsin. I was far enough back I had plenty of time to figure my way out, go through my choices but not enough time to stop. when i took that narrow just a little room to the right i was right next to him at this time he still didn't make his left turn, only until my tractor was even with him on the right. would been right through that car. don't matter how far we are back, don't slam your brakes on give us plenty of notice on these two lane roads. before you hit your brakes or just flash your brake lights once or twice real quick to let us know your about to turn. or something like that.
“Mirror”
Watched a man the other day, he was sat on the floor close to a door
As he sat there I began to wonder and stare
He was rocking, toing and froing, mumbled words were coming and going
Heard the odd profanity and thought he’s lost his bloody sanity
I think for maybe over an hour I watched him sit and cower
Watched him to and fro, thought soon he must get up and go
Saw something familiar there, as he return my stare with a glare
He was looking at glass and time seem to pass, then fascinating thing he started to sing
He was staring me out, thought what’s he doing we are going to have this thing out
After some time he arose from the floor, grabbed a handle and walked out the door
Don’t know if will see him again, he looked to be in an awful pain
As he sat there I began to wonder and stare
He was rocking, toing and froing, mumbled words were coming and going
Heard the odd profanity and thought he’s lost his bloody sanity
I think for maybe over an hour I watched him sit and cower
Watched him to and fro, thought soon he must get up and go
Saw something familiar there, as he return my stare with a glare
He was looking at glass and time seem to pass, then fascinating thing he started to sing
He was staring me out, thought what’s he doing we are going to have this thing out
After some time he arose from the floor, grabbed a handle and walked out the door
Don’t know if will see him again, he looked to be in an awful pain
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2012
About this poem:
Wrote this some years ago when in a darl time in my life :-)
Liar, liar pants on fire
He is his usual talkative self today.
I can hear him from blocks away.
He is first, he is the loudest
In the midst of where the crowd is.
Like any cult leader
To many true believers
He is God in the flesh
No a demagogue at best.
In front mics and megaphone
His drum beats like a metronome,
Spinning tales taller
Than drunken men in parlours.
He talks socialism and "wokeness"
To the forgotten and the hopeless,
Inflaming passions
With whatever he imagines.
He is a traveling merchant
Of the reality alternate.
When truth is inconvenient
There can be no agreement.
Whose gonna save his soul?
He's broken hes never been whole.
He is a bottomless pit.
He was always "Unfit"
And a burning place below is beckoning
One day soon there'll be a reckoning!
WBJS 6/2/22
I can hear him from blocks away.
He is first, he is the loudest
In the midst of where the crowd is.
Like any cult leader
To many true believers
He is God in the flesh
No a demagogue at best.
In front mics and megaphone
His drum beats like a metronome,
Spinning tales taller
Than drunken men in parlours.
He talks socialism and "wokeness"
To the forgotten and the hopeless,
Inflaming passions
With whatever he imagines.
He is a traveling merchant
Of the reality alternate.
When truth is inconvenient
There can be no agreement.
Whose gonna save his soul?
He's broken hes never been whole.
He is a bottomless pit.
He was always "Unfit"
And a burning place below is beckoning
One day soon there'll be a reckoning!
WBJS 6/2/22
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2022
Post Comment
online today!My grandmother's advice to the women of the village
I want to give you a recipe for youth: find an intelligent and reliable man and let him kiss you, all wrinkles disappear from passion.
Sigh quietly, raise your chest slightly, as if you are starting to feel sad, and gesture with your eyes to the embrace.
Well, then - let him hug you
Remember that youth is love! Envy, gossip, and anger are diseases
To maintain eternal youth, falling in love renews blood and relieves stress, depression and fatigue!
Sigh quietly, raise your chest slightly, as if you are starting to feel sad, and gesture with your eyes to the embrace.
Well, then - let him hug you
Remember that youth is love! Envy, gossip, and anger are diseases
To maintain eternal youth, falling in love renews blood and relieves stress, depression and fatigue!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 22
About this poem:
So let me love you
Quess What I have?????????
)
If I was a talented individual I would walk on a tight rope and walk till I could not walk anymore....
I would walk this tight rope ~~ that is high and slight adjourned with arms outstretched ~~ for poises sake between the cool, rippling water that can bring me assistances of creation and deep, sweet sleep. The wrong way up the tight rope with its well of darkness; A mirror reflecting geniuses who stare through my own eyes. I walk this tight rope and I walk it often as I am only of this tiny little small lady bug~~~~~ walking on the tight rope gives me the sence of owns beauty of walking on a tight rope~~~~~~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2011
About this poem:
It is alright to walk on a tight rope~~~~ even if you are a tiny lady bug~~~~~~~~~~I changed the title to get a few more views and maybe a new comment or twoit s not all that bad of a write my friend.....
Hard hands
Hard oiled hands warmed and ready connect with naked skin, press deep into tense muscles gliding smoothly over soft skin making her moan and sigh, her body relaxing and drifting into space her mind disconnecting and she becomes a creature of feeling.
Guess who is going for a pamper day full of massage this pm?
'grins and winks'
Guess who is going for a pamper day full of massage this pm?
'grins and winks'
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2013
About this poem:
Ok so am going with a bunch of woman and no hulking men will be there with strong hands, and the only chocolate there are the ones i am eating:-),hugssss and be back later all relaxed, mmmwha.
charitable giving
let's take off all our clothes
i can't deny that it might be taxing
to find ourselves in a new repose
an internal audit could be relaxing
to create an eternal charitable trust
i have on my person a beneficent donation
we'll fill each others forms with lust
on which to build a charitable foundation
give generations to come something inheritable
i've always wanted to be your altruist
we can show care and passion so charitable
to give of ourselves and in turn be kissed
my desire for you is to be philanthropic
it may not be heavenly but it sure is living
some pillow talk is always a hot topic
loving desire whispers our charitable giving
© agoodguy2have 2010-10-07
i can't deny that it might be taxing
to find ourselves in a new repose
an internal audit could be relaxing
to create an eternal charitable trust
i have on my person a beneficent donation
we'll fill each others forms with lust
on which to build a charitable foundation
give generations to come something inheritable
i've always wanted to be your altruist
we can show care and passion so charitable
to give of ourselves and in turn be kissed
my desire for you is to be philanthropic
it may not be heavenly but it sure is living
some pillow talk is always a hot topic
loving desire whispers our charitable giving
© agoodguy2have 2010-10-07
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2010
About this poem:
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