Editors Blog

2013 April PAD Challenge: Day 25

The April PAD (Poem-A-Day) Challenge is designed to help poets do one thing and one thing only: Write more poems! The process of revision may go on for weeks, months, and years later, but this challenge is all about getting that first draft. Please poem along with us–either in the comments below or silently at home.

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Everyone (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles could include: “Everyone Thinks I’m Crazy,” “Everyone Knows the World Is Round,” “Everyone Needs to Leave Me Alone,” or whatever it is that everyone is doing (or not doing).

Here’s my attempt:

“everyone wants to rule the world”

but most can’t run their lives
she thinks the world is a fly
that’s nearly impossible to swat

& when she does another
takes its place & another
they keep buzzing her way


Workshop Your Poetry!

Writing poetry is exciting, but the hard work of poeming is working through the revision process. The best way to work through this process is to workshop the poems with other poets, and that can be done with the Writer’s Digest 6-week course, Advanced Poetry Writing.


Follow me on Twitter @robertleebrewer


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Want some more poeming fun? Check out these previous Poetic Asides posts:

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216 thoughts on “2013 April PAD Challenge: Day 25

  1. LCaramanna

    Everyone Escaped To The Weekend

    Week’s end approached
    one minute remained
    precisely one minute
    marked in sixty seconds
    around the clock face
    minute hand traveled
    with perfect accuracy
    ticked, ticked, ticked away sixty seconds
    student faces eyed the timepiece
    in self-contained anticipation
    counted down sixty seconds
    dismissal bell sounded
    Everyone Escaped To The Weekend

    Lorraine Caramanna

  2. shethra77

    Everyone Is Too Slow

    is the motto of my nephew. Every
    step he takes is dancing–has his
    inner baby beats–takes
    your hand and
    and we rush
    up the path
    over the roots scary too
    close to the edge
    too long a drop–block him.
    He will rush over
    and tumble on the rocks given
    half a chance
    down to the creek.
    on up the dusty path
    while we stare at wildflowers slowly–
    too slow.
    He takes my hand.
    Here we go:
    run, run

  3. vsbryant1


    Everyone laughs
    Everyone cries
    Everyone dance
    Everyone stands

    Everyone shy’s away from the pain
    Everyone runs towards what can be gain
    Everyone feels like no one else can
    Everyone hurts because that part of the heart is the same

    Everyone laughs
    Everyone cries
    Everyone dance
    Everyone stands

  4. Michelle Hed

    Everyone What?

    Everyone wants to be
    Validated, to feel worthy, a sense of
    Empowerment in their own
    Reality, seeking
    Youth, love, money, health, happiness
    Or whatever it is they think they want
    Never stopping, until
    Every last thing has been acquired…

    Wasting youth, love, money, health,
    Happiness… in the acquirement of the next, best thing.
    Actuality takes her time in enlightening you
    To what you really want…time.

  5. dr todd harris

    Everyone ReSeeding Eden
    by dr todd harris

    Seconds’ illusive country moths
    chase flame
    flicker –
    any glowing fancy

    fragile powdered wings

    delicate fleeting feet

    capturing altogether’s pairs
    circumnavigating uncertainty’s lofty lairs

    Everyone reseeding Eden

  6. PuffofSmokePoems

    Everyone, Your Homework

    is: Loosen your stingy heart
    that keeps you strangled
    barely breathing
    telling your self No
    all day long.
    Give yourself the big gift of
    What you Really Want. Heart’s desire.
    It might be something simple
    like letting yourself
    assign homework to the whole world.

    Window shop the whole earth
    for the gift that brings
    mysterious smiles at two p.m.
    and makes you leap
    into each morning
    eager for more.

    You’ll know when you find it, whatever
    makes you feel like
    these poems feel to me—
    Something bountiful and wise
    Tugging your brain through
    crowded fields of weeks.

    And if that’s too big, too generous,
    start small. Stop in the middle of the field.
    Make believe your heart’s desires are
    bright red berries you gather
    growing close to the ground
    hidden by real leaves.

  7. Jezzie

    Not Everyone

    Everyone loves the thrill of the chase,
    everyone wants to win their race,
    but not everyone’s up to the pace,
    so everyone needs to lose with grace.

    Everyone loves an exciting thrill,
    everyone wants to fly down the hill,
    but fun often comes before a spill,
    so everyone needs to relax and chill.

    Everyone loves a partner to win,
    everyone wants romance to begin,
    but romance might soon start to wear thin
    so everyone needs to have a thick skin!

    Everyone loves their heart to lose,
    everyone wants a spouse to choose,
    but not everyone has someone to amuse,
    so everyone needs a hug for their blues.

  8. RJ Clarken


    “Everyone has secrets. It’s just a matter of finding out what they are.” ~Stieg Larsson

    I have a secret. Can you guess?
    You have one, too? I expect so.
    Let’s talk: a little quid pro quo,
    or is it something you’d suppress?

    I’ll figure it out, nonetheless.
    A secret yearning you can’t show?
    You have one, too? I expect so.
    I have a secret. Can you guess?

    I’m crushed on you. Yes, I confess.
    Do you have feelings you’d bestow
    on me? … You had me at ‘Hello.’???
    Oh wow! Goodbye to mental chess.
    We share a secret. Can you guess!


  9. finallyhereiam

    Everyone needs a good laugh

    Of chuckles, and giggles
    And mischief that wriggles,
    Its way out of sober facades;

    Of peals, and guffaws,
    That know, no pause,
    Are Life’s countless Joys, and its rhythms.
    May start with a fake, a moment it takes,
    To catch on, and spread like Fire wild.

    And that rancour runs out,
    To see laughter sprout,
    Dare not it come near, Life’s mirthful child.

  10. Sally Jadlow

    Everyone Dances

    To the beat of a different drummer.

    Some, to the staccato beat
    of a compulsive accomplisher.

    Others, to the soft pulse
    of a sliding slacker.

    For me, I’ll dance to the tune
    in my head at the moment
    and be grateful for the ability
    to hear the beat.

  11. Yolee

    Everyone feels the Same Sun and Rain

    It all depends on
    what is planted
    in the soil of belief.

    Just as an apple seed
    produces its own kind,
    so do kernels of greatness
    or defeat yield their order.

    Let the wheelbarrow
    carry your harvest,
    and the heart,

  12. alana sherman

    I Don’t Know About Everyone
    Else, But I Can Barely Manage Me

    Thinking about everyone else
    made me so tired
    I had to take a nap
    and I dreamed about songs
    and Beagles. Why would
    anyone buy a Beagle? Everyone
    knows that the only dogs
    worth owning are Airedales!
    Wait—maybe the Beagle wasn’t
    a beagle but a symbol of intuition,
    and good intentions. And everyone
    knows of all dogs Beagles are the most
    sensitive—I’m very sensitive
    so maybe the Beagle is me!
    Every day I look at others
    they all seem to be just fine
    How does everyone else who writes
    come up with line after line?
    I’m reduced to scribble and blather
    while everyone else works like machines
    Though I’m writing—filling pages
    I’m still left wondering what it all means.


  13. Kimiko Martinez


    Thursday, April 25, 2013

    Everybody bleeds
    There’s a story for every line
    striping her forearms;
    a name for every slice,
    for every time they called her
    slut or dyke or wetback.

    There’s a tear for every cut
    she now covers
    with long sleeves;
    for every time she believed
    the lies of the unloved.

  14. Linda Voit

    Everyone knew

    Everyone knew the vertical ovals raised
    to the choir director in unison
    on Christmas cards were just
    an artistic representation
    of children’s real mouths singing
    alleluia! Everyone except me.
    So I stood out that year
    in the Christmas pageant.

  15. Tracy Davidson

    Everyone’s a Winner

    step right on up folks
    win a bear for your loved one
    score forty or more

    step right on up folks
    cuddle your loved one and ride
    the tunnel of love

    step right on up folks
    see the fat bearded lady
    play hurdy-gurdy

    step right on up folks
    now dare you take the ghost train
    scare yourself silly

    step right on up folks
    everyone’s a winner
    or your money back

  16. Mr. Walker

    Everyone Begins

    you know it’s true
    the question is when

    some begin every day
    each day is a new tablet

    on which life is carved
    or tapped out digitally

    some began long ago
    and just carry on

    keeping calm is optional
    though preferable

    some haven’t begun yet
    but they will

    some have begun already
    but have questioned

    that previous beginning
    and are thinking

    of starting over
    a franchise reboot

    some begin and stop
    over and over again

    questioning too much
    trusting not enough

    who is now the question
    who are you beginning to be

  17. WayneLMurphy

    “Everyone knows…”

    Everyone knows something about themselves
    that they never tell anyone else
    It may be a something they hold onto forever,
    they may even take it to their grave

    It could be about how they’ve wronged someone
    it may be about a lost love
    It may involve them being abused,
    it could be an act of war

    It is bottled up and pushed deep inside
    never to be reveled to anyone
    Sometimes we can not live with the secret
    and then it all comes undone

    Wayne L Murphy 4/25/13

  18. tunesmiff

    (c) 2013 – G. Smith (BMI)
    Everybody believes something,
    That’s how they get along;
    Some think life’s a journey,
    Others sing it like a song.

    Some think they have all the answers,
    Then there are those who don’t know what to think;
    But if you’re asking me, I’ll tell you –
    I believe,
    I’ll have,
    Another drink.

    Some folks believe evolution,
    Others say it ain’t so;
    Some believe that right’s the right way,
    Others that left’s the only way to go.

    Some believe in a lot of little things,
    And they’ll toss in the kitchen sink.
    But I say it’s all much simpler than that:
    I believe,
    I’ll have,
    Another drink.

    I once believed that she and me
    Would make it to the end.
    Deep down I knew that we
    Would always be lovers and best friends.
    How was I to know
    The end would come so soon?
    That’s why you’ll find me in this bar,
    On a Thursday afternoon.

    Yeah, some folks believe love is the answer,
    Others act like it’s hate;
    Some belive Jesus is coming soon,
    Others that we’ve got a long wait.

    Most people always tell the truth,
    Some with a nod and wink.
    But I’ll give it to you, right from the heart:
    I believe,
    I’ll have,
    Another drink.

  19. drwasy

    Everyone Has an Opinion

    You see them on tv
    lips flapping, sage
    white skulls nodding
    sweat slicked, a patina

    You hear them in the store
    carts piled with 20 cans
    and cartons in the 12 or less
    kids crying for candy

    They tell you from the pulpit
    fire-embossed words spewed
    from crystal windows
    with singular views

    You read them on facebook
    on twitter & pinterest
    perfect happy lives
    with perfect happy answers

    You hear them yammer
    from the front desk
    the rear of the bus
    the tabloids
    the white house
    the police line up
    the front page
    the billboards
    the talkshows
    the picket line
    the shrink’s couch
    the graveyard

    Everyone has an opinion
    louder than war
    denser than earth
    white noise that buries
    my voice
    and yours

  20. Margot Suydam

    Everyone told me not to come
    I did not want to hear
    their warnings and then some
    You are what I most fear

    yet I have traveled so far from
    home for a slight sight dear
    of you lounge love in sand and sun
    you are never too near

    Everyone told me not to come
    I did not want to dear
    yet I am beating on your drum
    the last thing you will hear.

  21. Rachel Blake

    Everyone wants approval,
    or so it seems t me,
    except the psychopathic
    who of need for it are free.
    So what harm then,
    the odd kind word,
    a smile or two or three.
    It comes back to you,
    approving mutually.

  22. bahmed22

    “Everyone is sad Inside”

    I do look happy
    I do look glad
    I move around the party
    And for hours I sing with the band

    I smile and laugh and talk
    And I dance, making a grandstand
    And you might think
    He is the happiest man in this land

    But if you really look deep inside
    Everyone is sad
    And so am I

  23. Alphabet Architect

    Everyone is a Comedian

    You’re unemployed
    Over stressed
    Everyone is a comedian

    You’ve lost your wallet,
    Your job, your house
    Everyone is a comedian

    You’re mending from surgery
    It hurts to laugh
    Everyone is a comedian

    You fall on your face
    Make a fool of yourself
    Everyone is a comedian

    You crack a joke
    At a dinner party -Voila!
    Everyone is not a comedian

  24. Alpha1

    Everyone has God on their Side

    When God is for you
    who can be against
    who got your back
    when you leanin on
    the fence
    when the country goes
    to war in the
    name of peace
    whose name do they call
    to make the
    bloodshed cease
    you kill and you maim
    can’t do no wrong cause
    the star spangled banner
    God wrote that song
    so whatever you say
    makes the whole thing right
    cause for all you know
    the dark is the light
    you don’t have to run
    find no place to hide
    for whatever you do
    God is on your side

  25. Deri

    Everyone Sings In The Shower

    sings in the shower
    or the car
    mumbling at stop
    lights, hoping
    no one else
    notices them.

    Everyone glances
    in darkened windows
    for a glimpse
    of their own reflection
    hoping the bathroom
    mirror didn’t lie
    this morning.

    Everyone wonders
    what they look like
    walking away, hoping
    against hope
    it is the saddest sight.

    Everyone checks their phone,
    in case it was accidently
    turned off. No one
    likes being ignored.

    We all spin in circles
    grabbing for hands
    to keep us steady,
    hands that will clap
    in time as we
    sing in the shower.

  26. Rachel Blake

    Everyone Could

    Strive to be
    what you want to be
    Tinker, Tailor
    basket maker
    disco dancer
    but remember
    not to hinder
    others’ dreams
    or rights or being
    and just get on
    with self discovery
    make it real
    become satisfied
    and understand
    seek contentment
    and be happy

  27. De Jackson

    Everyone Lies
    (Fib? Oh, not she.)

    in his
    gaze, she lays
    down the law, slays drag
    -on and song and all that silence.
    He stirs, and she smiles; woos the stars
    for this while, knows that
    shades of truth
    shake loose


  28. carolecole66

    Ugh. When You’re Stuck, Write a Pantoum

    Everyone was talking about it; the boy who saved his sister
    or the dog did it; I couldn’t get the story clear. I only knew
    that songs were everywhere and people smiled that day.
    I took off from school and hung around the town square.

    Maybe the dog did it; I couldn’t get the story clear. I only knew
    I would remember the day I marched in the parade
    I took off from school and hung around the town square
    hoping to score a dime bag or a meal.

    I would remember the day that I marched in a parade
    though I hated parades and didn’t like crowds.
    I hoped to score a dime bag or a meal
    so I stuck close to the people with money.

    I’ve hated parades since I was a child and didn’t like crowds.
    The museum was just down the street and I headed there
    where I could stick by the people with money.
    I eyed their wallets and bags and listened to their stories.

    The museum was just down the street; I could walk there.
    Everyone went for lunch and to sit awhile in the sun.
    I watched their wallets and purses and listened to stories.
    I stood in the shadows and basked in their reflected light

    Everyone went for lunch that day and sat together in the sun.
    Songs were everywhere and people smiled.
    I stood back in the shadows and basked in their light.
    Everyone talked about it: the mythic hero, the helpless girl.

  29. ewdupler

    Everyone Knows Its Mean

    Nobody knows just what you’ve done,
              you really should come clean.
    I know you thought it was for fun,
              but others think it mean.

    A toothbrush with a numbing goo,
              was actually not bad.
    But hair remover in shampoo,
              will make her very mad.

  30. Julieann

    Everyone Loves a Clown

    The face paint
    The funny nose
    The big clumsy feet
    The costumes from
    Ballerina skirt to
    Swimwear to a tux

    Clowns make us laugh
    Clowns make us forget
    Clowns arrive in teeny, tiny cars
    Clowns are shot from a cannon
    Their antics are hilarious
    Especially leading a sing along

    They tumble
    They juggle
    They run
    They do silly tricks
    Their whole being is to
    Make us laugh

    Everyone loves a clown –
    Except me

  31. missjoyce

    Everybody ___

    Everybody Smiles

    Its an “every year” thing
    when all relatives come
    to bond and be happy.

    Young ones would dance and sing
    others would laugh, not some –
    too much pain and worry.

    Each one had their baggage
    health troubles, some of loss,
    finances or children.

    Wives took their husbands’ rage;
    one took one from their boss.
    All these Fielder women.

    They lied, their wounded hearts.
    They didn’t want disgrace,
    though the pain’s seen from miles.

    Between the hurtful parts,
    at least they have these days,
    where everybody smiles.

  32. P.A. Beyer

    Everyone Wants to Be Australian

    I dream of a walkabout. Where wind sweeps over the souls of land and man. Where blood and red sand run as one. I stare into the eyes of our ancestors’ father. Eyes so black it shames night. I listen to his toothless whisper about a matter of life and death. The didjereedo confuses and comforts. The light from the southern cross reminds me to appreciate the sky. And all along the banks of the Yarra I meet beautiful people with a criminal’s smile.

  33. happys

    ~Everyone Can Learn~

    Everyone can learn from one another
    From each person, every person or any person

    From an innocent child for its carefree laughter
    Childlike faith to imperishable hope we sought after

    From people we admire and draw our inspiration
    Reaching our goals to our dream destination

    From biographies of people who went ahead of us
    Lessons from their lives are all valuable to ask

    From elder people moving to their twilight zone
    Wisdom from them are worth more than precious stone

    Everyone can learn since learning is a non-stop process
    Travel, books or art works will surely carry us to the path of progress

  34. BDP

    “Everyone Wants to Go Back” (Ballad)

    You drive the hills of double lines
    and secrets streaming in.
    Arrive to chairs among the pine
    Dad planted at age ten

    and wrap yourself with warmth that sifts
    soft through the high branches
    of this basilica. The gifts
    are still here, the handshakes

    one life extends to yet another,
    the treeroot railing down
    to where loon newborns ride on mothers’
    backs as their fathers warn

    of danger through their tremolo.
    Your parents had that once
    for you, a place. You can go home.
    There’s truth in the distance.

    B Peters

  35. Raina Masters

    Everyone sing along, you know the words

    “Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow” is the line
    I’d scream the loudest as I sang that Cornershop
    song when I was around fourteen and thought it was
    hilarious and thought it would annoy my mom, but it
    really didn’t, since my friend Katie would soon turn
    me on to Nine Inch Nails and I’ll never forget the
    look on her face when my little stereo blasted the
    words “I wanna fuck you like an animal” and she swore
    she’d break all of my NIN cd’s, but she never did.
    She ended taking me to see them live and danced all night.

  36. Larry

    “Everyone’s going to be there”.

    Come on Mom all the cool kids are going to be there
    It’s the only place where all the fun is.
    The water is majorly warm
    The grass is totally green
    The candy and hot dogs are free.
    The Sun don’t never set.
    Laughter is a requirement
    The high dive is a hundred feet
    I cannot get hurt, it’s guaranteed
    Mom there is a Ferris wheel
    Pony rides and a roller coaster.
    Can I go Mom Everyone’s going to be there?
    Where is it you ask?
    Well Mom it’s a place that only comes once a year
    A place I am sure you and Dad remember
    Mom it’s a place called summer.
    Thanks Mom I love you.

  37. bxpoetlover

    Everybody Sings Along

    shouting yo that is my song
    swaying necks and hips
    tapping feet to the beat
    humming and mangling
    verses and first
    listening to get it right
    until they own it word for word.
    If we are wise that is how we live
    stumbling but learning along the way
    until we get smooth with it

  38. Ann Graham Price

    “flattery, of which imitation is the sincerest form”

    everyone lived in an ugly cow town
    (with dull unthinking so many knows down)
    birth youth age death
    they shouted their isms they flung their hate

    women and men (and children too)
    circled the wagons to keep not-us out
    they oiled their other they drove their strange
    city suburb village grange

    some people guessed (but only a few
    and down they forgot as upward they grew
    age death birth youth)
    that no one remembered untruth by untruth

    late by never and why by why not
    she always remembered yet never forgot
    rake by august and heaven by hell
    was anyone’s way to talk but untell

    somebodies married their no ones-but-him
    they nothinged their chatting they danced their undid
    (sleep wake work and then) they
    said their farewells and unstood by the door

    stars rain sun moon
    (and only the chaff can seem to explain
    how no one remembers and many regret
    with dull unthinking so many knows down)

    one day nobody died i guess
    (and nobody unwept to mourn the loss)
    all were too busy to stop for a look
    nothing by nothing and cranny by nook

    shallow by shallow and none too deep
    and less by less they undream when asleep
    someone and no one betwixt by between
    and nothing at all can appear if it’s seen.

    women and men (both worth and unworth)
    youth age death birth
    unreaped as unsown, they unplayed their ungame
    sun moon stars rain

  39. Marian O'Brien Paul

    Everyone needs to read this ballad about something that happened during a year-long stay in Turkey where I to teach English as a Second Language, accompanied by my two teenage daughters :

    Our Harrowing Encounter in Turkey

    “Daughters, daughters what can that be
    all wiggly and crawly, coming at me?”

    Home from work one wintry evening
    my coat and galoshes shed
    I grabbed a sharp knife for cleaving
    veggies to get us all fed.

    One daughter, just learning to cook,
    entered the kitchen offering help.
    “I need a spoon,” I told her. “Look
    over …” She let out a yelp.

    Shifting my eyes, I saw what she saw
    thick as a hotdog and slithery
    a hundred stubbly legs making it yaw.
    My skin was suddenly shrivelly.

    “Daughters, daughters what can that be
    all wiggly and crawly, coming at me?”

    A cappella, spontaneous our scream.
    I threw open the cupboard door.
    Snatching the Raid, I aimed its stream
    to poison that thing on the floor.

    It writhed and wriggled, refusing to die.
    My daughter leaped on a chair.
    Her sister arrived supplementing our cry,
    our shrieking consuming all air.

    “Daughters, daughters what can that be
    all wiggly and crawly, coming at me?”

    With courage, I lifted my sandaled foot
    in spite of my lifelong dread
    and started stomping that critter kaput,
    slipping in Raid till ‘twas dead.

    Our screeching done, now we could hear
    someone pounding our door.
    “I’ll get it,” one daughter said. “I’m near.”
    She slid from table to floor.

    “Daughters, daughters what can that be
    all wiggly and crawly, coming at me?”

    We heard her saying to neighbor boys
    who’d come here to save us,
    “It was only a bug. I’m sorry for the noise.
    I hope you’ll forgive our fuss.”

    Laughing, they ambled back to the stair
    those teenage Turkish heroes
    calling us crazy yabanciler.
    Me, I was wiping Raid from my toes.

    “Daughters, daughters what can that be
    all wiggly and crawly, coming at me?”

  40. cstewart

    Everyone’s Feeling the Change

    Twenty years ago was a depressing time,
    A pall fell over the country.
    The promise of quick money from
    The technology start ups had partially
    Come to fruition bringing out the greed.

    The country was at war for no reason
    Encouraging the poor and uneducated
    To take up the flag of patriotism,
    And give themselves up for the good of
    The corporations.

    All systems were suffering from the
    Drain of the one percent.
    The great middle class was continuing
    To lose ground.
    Healthcare was at the cracking point.

    Drugs were no longer the problem,
    People thought of when thinking
    What is wrong with America.
    They began to wake up to the
    Dissolution of the country.

    Now, there are many grass roots
    Movements pushing forward the
    Agenda of the people.
    It is a time of change and opportunity,
    For the average person to participate,
    In change.

    Cynthia Stewart

  41. omavi

    “Everyone take a pause.”

    Don’t rush this or push too hard
    Don’t make a scene or make good bad
    Remember grandma said
    “Chile don’ fret, stop all dat crying..”
    Stop thinking that two steps back
    Will set you up for failure
    Will ruin your life
    Will place you under strain of loss
    The pain of today
    Is only worth the half a blink of eyes
    If you think you will die
    Time has so many surprises in store
    Until the universe decides you will die
    So take a breath
    Let nature blossom before you weary eyes
    Let the sun set while you caress depression
    It will rise and show you that even loss
    Can never deny the brilliant light
    Of a heart striving to always shine
    Sit still and let fluidity of consciousness
    Pass you by for just a couple times
    Remembering the conscious will
    Never falter and never stop
    Always plotting the path that
    Dissects the obstacles
    Purity travels undeterred a straight line
    Knowledge no crutch can hamper
    Perseverance a force that destroys
    Even the barriers that make the mind cringe
    If you want to have everything
    Sit back and think
    Before your move begins again

  42. VivianG

    “everyone thinks”

    everyone thinks
    that love is inevitable
    something you fall in and out of
    without fully realizing it
    wishing to memorize
    someone’s hopes and dreams
    as they cut across your heart
    like a leaf in mid-autumn
    dark and unprepared

    in a hazy state of sleeplessness
    minds tend to disagree
    I prefer to think of love
    as a state of being
    I think you can be in love
    with words or songs or flowers or freckles
    I do not think
    you always fall
    for people

  43. Sara McNulty

    Everyone Has Secrets

    I chuckle to myself
    when people tell me
    they have no secrets
    from each other. Really?
    Sins, stupidity, awkward
    moments of ego embarrassment,
    mendacity with malice? Regrets live
    in your past, a waste
    of time if you cannot leave
    them there. Secrets
    are small compartments
    containing knowledge
    known only to you.

    Poetic Asides
    April Challenge – Day 25
    Everyone __________

  44. PowerUnit


    Everyone is happy when papa comes home
    A clean dollar bill in everyone’s pocket
    For Wendy a comb
    And for Jenny a locket

    Everyone is happy when papa goes away
    No orders, no shouting, no pain
    Such a calm, peaceful day
    Until he comes home again

  45. tonijoell

    Everyone Sees Me

    but I want to disappear—
    fade into the night sky
    like shimmering star dust;
    evaporate like sea spray
    into the ocean air.

    Everyone sees me
    but I want to disappear—
    take to the colors around me
    like a chameleon,
    be invisible
    like Claude Rains;
    blend into the crowd
    like a fugitive on the lam.

    Now everyone sees me
    but you.

  46. HandHeldWriter

    Everyone, everywhere,
    It was such a crowded affair.
    I still don’t know what
    Possessed me to even go there.

    There were lines a mile long.
    The sea of faces went on and on.
    And to make matters worse,
    It didn’t feel like I belonged.

    I was so happy at the very end
    When I finally told my friend,
    “Sorry, next time you’re going alone.
    I just can’t go through this again.”

    I went on my way.
    My friend went on their way.
    I don’t know if we can call us friends anymore.
    We never spoke to each again since that day.

  47. JWLaviguer

    Everyone Dies At The End Part II

    Who wants to live forever
    he sang
    and died a victim
    of his excesses

    He drank too much
    and slept through it
    drowning on his own vomit
    only the good die young

    Overdosed on heroin
    too many to name
    burning too bright
    too fast

    Overdosed but survived
    a cry for help
    went unanswered
    but the shotgun worked

    If there’s a Rock and Roll Heaven
    they’ve got one helluva band
    bye bye
    Miss America Pie

  48. Angie5804

    Thank you for introducing me to the constanza form, Jane Shlensky.

    Everyone Has a Poem

    Everyone has poems inside
    Rattling around the brain or the heart
    Though the words may be a la carte

    Seize your poem, don’t let it hide
    Show the world what you have to say
    Give them a whiff of your bouquet

    You will not know until you’ve tried
    Put words on paper, reshuffle
    They may be calm or kerfuffle

    You may choose which rules to abide
    Syllable counts are sometimes fun
    Rhyming usually number one

    Free verse is good, go for a ride
    Pour out ideas and your soul
    You do not have to take control

    Make your words bounce or float or slide
    Let us see, feel, hear and believe
    Make us giggle and let us grieve

    Send out your poem far and wide
    Put it in note or letter
    In a book is even better

    Don’t wait to find your poem’s died
    Write it down before you forget
    I promise now, you won’t regret

  49. DanielAri

    “Everybody out”

    Everybody bursts through the double doors
    of the rec hall into the sudden rain
    broken from pewter threats. The brash downpour
    silences the teachers as Lance Whitson
    leads the charge, chest first, arms back, angel roar

    of invincible youth. Our faces clean
    in the storm’s caress, our clothes darkening—
    Karen, Joe, Chris, me—all of us legends
    discovered by this Los Angelean
    fluke, the rare notice of thundershowers.

    Dry electricity spent, we linger
    like steam, returning to Bye, Bye Birdie
    rehearsal. Saturday in early spring
    in the eighties, rehashing a sixties
    musical about the fifties, there’s Lance

    as Conrad Birdie, speckled and sweaty,
    crooning “A Lot of Livin’” endlessly.

  50. Lindy

    Everyone Touches the Sky

    Never ever
    live forever,
    everyone touches the sky.

    The life we breed
    and legacy’s seed,
    everyone leaves behind.

    All that we learned
    and all that was burned,
    everyone grows wings to fly.

    Every day toiled
    and every heart soiled,
    everyone eventually dies.

    Memories made
    and games that we played,
    everyone gathered to cry.

    Letting life go
    so apropos,
    everyone touches the sky.

  51. Bruce Niedt

    Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a ballad. So here’s a contemporary topic in an old English ballad form.

    Everyone Hates Anne
    (The Ballad of Anne Hathaway)

    There is a girl in Hollywood,
    Anne Hathaway’s her name,
    and people seem to hate her guts,
    and most resent her fame.

    She’s pretty, perky, gifted too,
    yet people seem so bitter,
    with snarky posts on online blogs
    and Facebook posts and Twitter.

    She did The Princess Diaries
    and Brokeback Mountain too,
    but still they call her “theater kid”;
    her acting they pooh-pooh.

    She’s been Jane Austen, “99”,
    a fashion gal in Prada.
    How much respect did they give her?
    Try, zero, nothing, nada.

    She’s played Batman’s Selina Kyle,
    and Alice’s White Queen,
    Then she brought home her Oscar gold
    for playing poor Fantine.

    But still the haters had their doubts,
    although she shed a tear
    when she gave her acceptance speech;
    they called her insincere.

    So here’s my message to you folks:
    please keep your wrath at bay,
    for I’ll make no apologies –
    I love Anne Hathaway.

  52. priyajane

    Everyone ran for cover

    Everyone ran for cover
    But she stood there
    Transfixed, feet grounded
    As the sky pounded down
    Electrifying her
    She could not hear the warning screams
    Just the heartbeat of thunder
    In her veins
    A haunting calling from somewhere
    Pulverizing her shell
    Hypnotizing her mind
    And baptizing her silent spirit
    Soon this moment would pass
    As she would be pulled back into the chains of living
    But just for a instant
    She was free
    That was enough, –to go on

  53. Domino

    Everyone Needs a Hammock

    Take the stress of the day and
    lie down with it
    in your hammock.

    Swing softly with the breeze.
    Watch the clouds, or stars,
    the branches above,
    or twittering birds
    or playing children,
    or read your book.

    A tall glass of lemonade
    in the summer.
    Warm cider in the autumn.
    A cozy quilt in the winter.
    A Roger Tory Peterson book
    in the spring.

    And maybe a cuddle with
    someone you love…
    sure, the kids will all fit, too.

    More hammocks,
    less worry.
    That’s what everyone needs.

    Diana Terrill Clark

    1. PressOn

      This is just delightful; for me, it reads as idyllic as your descriptions. Sounds like you might be a birder. If so, you know not to locate the hammock too close to the feeders.

  54. julie e.

    i’m a little bit hooked on cinquains.


    vulnerable helpless
    relying answering dangling
    at the mercy of

    in charge
    opting selecting deciding
    captain of their ship

  55. annell

    Toes sink into hot sand
    Baked by the sun
    Shell seekers
    A chipped sand dollar
    Grains of pink sand between fingers
    Hot and scratchy
    Sweat roles down into eyes
    Seeking shells no easy task

    Tiny shells upon my palm
    Count them
    One by one
    A fan
    A trumpet
    A curlicue
    Pink, rose, orange and white

    Looking over
    The sandy beach
    Waves roll in
    Wash the shore
    One more shell
    Completes the collection

  56. ValerieO

    Everyone has Fear

    Try to ignore it otherwise
    Be caught in fear’s grip
    Stifled by this emotion
    A shadow mirroring anxieties
    Hidden behind excuses

  57. dextrousdigits

    Everyone thinks I’m an extrovert,
    but alas tis not true
    I am outgoing
    at work and even on the street
    I greet people with a smile,
    a “good morning, hi, have a nice day”
    Yes, I’m friendly and even caring.
    I’m a good speaker, lecturer and teacher
    and have no trouble leading a group.

    But I don’t particularly like
    social events like parties,
    concerts in big venues
    even BBQ’s, weddings, reunions.

    Give me a day with a friend
    a small dinner party
    a hike in a scenic spot
    biking by myself or with one other person
    a book to curl up with
    knitting an afghan while watching a home movie

    When I’m tired
    have had a long hard day at work
    interacting and taking care of others
    the last thing I want to do is be around a lot of people.

    How do I charge my batteries,
    by being quiet, away from people
    putting on some comfy pajamas
    making or doing things with my hands

    So now please excuse me
    to some quiet time in the hot tub.

    1. PressOn

      This restful piece gives me the same feeling as the hammock poem (above). It paints a picture for me, especially in the third stanza. I like this very much.

  58. Rhae

    ‘Everyone Should Scrub Out’

    when it feels like it couldn’t get any worse
    or every thing is going all wrong
    everyone should break out in song,
    sing and dance the
    solution your way
    make every movement represent what you say,

    when the sky feels out of reach
    accept the bending of knees
    then immediately spotlight yourself into speech,
    create your own monologue
    who cares if it looks crazy
    yes or no-possibly maybe,

    when ever at all in doubt
    imagine you’re on a stage
    you’re the master, the king, the queen, all the rage,
    be the director
    of your bliss
    because only you control your happiness

    (scrubs, the series)

  59. foodpoet

    Everyone wake up
    It’s time to wind down the poetry road trip.
    We have encountered blanks and infestations.
    Keep on writing around road blocks
    And detours of closures and arrivals.
    Drive through dark and light shadows
    Make a stab at a rhyme or two.
    Stopover to post a verse on-line.
    Count to seven before heading around
    The next poetic corner of the highway.
    Read the map’s instructions and then throw them away.
    Hunt down illusive words and let them flow away.
    Suffer for your art through storm and calm.
    When you break down relax and feel verse fly free,
    Read someone else’s to restock your mind.
    Try a form (NOT) NOPE well maybe. Anything
    Even sonnets are possible.
    Take the express way back to wordville, burn
    Those poetic tires to the rim of ideas and beyond.
    Edit and try to pare down to three lines hmm take road trip
    Ride the rails
    Home and back,
    Then add back the needed complex inset details.
    Learn to love the mind journey.
    Put the mind on auto pilot and come up with blank
    Verse to fit everyone.

  60. EbenAt

    ‘Everyone is gay’
    sang Kurt;
    he always said
    lyrics came last.

    Michael noted
    ‘Everybody hurts’
    a ‘duh’ moment
    if ever there was one.

    The Nails advised,
    ‘Let it all hang out;’
    everyone complied.

    Everybody knew yer name
    at Cheers,
    which is close enough.

    Everybody knows
    that song they play when
    the home team scores
    but not the name;
    (It’s Rock and Roll
    (Part 1 & 2)
    by Gary Glitter,

    Everyone had
    something to hide
    ‘cept him and
    his monkey.

    I know
    one song
    all y’all
    should like
    but I
    ain’t tellin’.

  61. Glory

    Everyone LongsTo Be The One

    Everyone longs to be the one,
    the only one, to hold within
    their grasp the magic that
    comes with a love affair.

    Until jealousy mixed with pride
    drives emotions, and all
    once held dear, turns
    slowly to confusion.

    What then is left within
    your grasp, little more
    than pain, and the knowing
    of nothing holding fast, – all
    an illusion.

  62. taylor graham


    Maria would have been proud if he
    were famous in a paper across the ocean.
    Such a small thing – a sheepherder,
    a package lost in the mail. That lady must
    have forgotten the address, and Tito
    his little shepherd-dog, and the sheep,
    the story and picture of him in the paper
    to send to Maria. That lady asking
    questions promised to think of Maria
    in the Pyrennes. Was he lonely?
    with sheep grazing and Tito staring
    into her lens. A thousand sheep, a dog
    to turn the flank at his whistles, Tito,
    sidekick in wild-west California,
    his companion. Couldn’t that lady see
    the dog? From field to vacant lot
    across a busy city he could herd his band
    of sheep, and stop to answer her
    questions, though he thought in Euskara,
    in Basque. Not Spanish, that was not
    his language though that lady addressed
    him in what she thought, stranger
    with notebook, a camera around her neck.

  63. JRSimmang

    Everyone Caught a Fish That Day

    Nah, we ain’t that close.
    At least we din’t use to be.
    You see, my family and me,
    well, ma she use to chase us with a hose,

    threatenin’ us to an inch of our lives,
    sayin’ she would someday make us rue
    the day we crossed her. Becca Sue,
    my sis, once broke out in hives

    she was so scared. And, pa… well pa’s pa.
    But, there’s one day of the year, one day,
    where we all forget about the way
    Jackie Ray’s always breakin the law

    and how Curly Sam set fire to the barn.
    That day is the day just after Easter.
    Weather’s usually nice, ain’t the usual heater,
    and we all head north to Billy’s dad’s farm.

    You see, there’s this real nice lil lake,
    real nice. You can see straight through
    to the bottom. Ain’t much to do
    but stare at first. Then, Mildred, Billy’s wife, brings out fresh-bake

    chicken. We stare at the lake, eatin’
    our fat faces off. Usually, Jackie happs
    to start some shit, but pa slaps
    him hard and he stops. He don’t wanna beatin

    today. Then, they wrestle. I get in there
    sometimes, but I’m more of a reader.
    I step aside and set up hook, line, and feeder.
    Becky Sue sits down with ma, where

    they talk about girly stuff. Curly often
    come to help me. He’s the youngest.
    He don’t say much, we think he’s blessed
    not hearin good. Makes this hard world soften.

    That day we all got out to the lake same time.
    Curly and me throws our line off the steep .
    bank. Pa makes down into the water, waist deep.
    Jackie gone off somewhere, prolly climbed

    up to the other side. We’s castin for a four hour
    or so, drinkin in silence, like we prone to do,
    and Jackie come up, white as a sheet, blue
    lips, splashing through the water, scaring our

    catch off. Pa yells, like he always do, and that’s
    when Jackie falls face down into the water.
    He just floats there. Old Man Crowder,
    Billy’s dad comes tearin’ down the hill like his hat’s

    on fire. He’s shoutin somethin. He got his rifle
    in his left hand and his pistol in his right.
    Pa rolls to the shore, pick up his pistol and takes sight,
    Ma and Becky Sue both hug each other and stifle

    a shout. Old Man Crowder’s yellin, Pa’s yellin,
    Billy’s sister, Margaret, come runnin over the hill,
    Jackie’s crying, crouched in a little ball,
    and I feel this tug at the end of my line tellin

    me that I got a catch… It’s peaceful here, with the sun
    shinin off the water, gettin in your eyes, making them tear
    up a little. Ain’t no reason a sensible man got nothing to fear.
    I jerk it fast to set the hook, then reel it in slow and the gun

    fires and pa falls to the ground, clutching his knee.
    Looks like I got myself a flounder, or something like.
    that. It may have been trout, perhaps a pike.
    No matter, I’ll fire up the grill and then we

    can all have a good supper. Jackie Ray floated
    by me. Just like him, scarin away everyone’s catch.

  64. Beth Rodgers


    A willing current
    Streaks through the veins
    Encouraging lofty goals
    Yet doubling over with

    Everyone tries to do right
    To encourage justice



  65. Earl Parsons


    Is everyone doing it?
    I doubt it

    Is everyone guilty?
    I doubt it

    Is everyone to blame?
    I doubt it

    Is everyone going to be there?
    I doubt it

    Is everyone jumping off the cliff?
    I doubt it

    Does everyone agree?
    I doubt it

    Does everyone really mean some?
    I imagine so

  66. Jane Shlensky

    Everyone Loves

    Loving is not the problem, she says.
    It’s what and how and who.
    Don’t forget when and where, her sister says,
    her eyes smiling, narrowed.

    She recounts the Sunday
    one of the Beasley twins was caught
    loving Simon Trout’s boy
    in the balcony of church after service.

    See, there’s an example of when
    and where being significant, Sis says.
    I reckon she took loving service seriously.
    Too much information, she shrieks.

    What she means is that people take
    for granted universal traits, say every and all
    people love, which should be good.
    Too many subordinators, Sis says, if, when, as long as…

    But what if they love hurting others?
    What if their definitions are perverted,
    twisted, cruel? What if they love themselves
    more than any other thing on earth?

    What if love of power trumps love
    of others, joy, kindness, helping,
    every time? Or cigarettes, she says,
    as her sister lights up, exhaling into the night.

    What can I say, her sister intones,
    I like smoke more than breath, and winks.
    Damn her. Kill yourself then, but don’t
    expect me to be glad to see it.

    No expectations. Never did have any.
    Is that it, then? The way to love best
    is to let it be—whatever it wants to be?
    Not examine it too closely?

    Is it possible for lambs to love the wolves
    that tear them, bleating for slaughter?
    No, what I mean, her sister says patiently,
    is that I choose to love the best I can

    and let others do the same…or not.
    I don’t expect love, I give it, because I can,
    it’s fun, and it costs me nothing.
    Loving is not compatible with expectations.

    She sighs into the night, wondering where he is,
    what and who he’s doing, and is he happy, hating that
    she’s loving him. You always were an outrageous
    know-it-all, she says, hugging her sister.

  67. PressOn


    When I am in a quandary
    and wondering what to do,
    my friends all see me blue
    and this is what they tell me:

    “Time will tell.”

    When I can’t find my laundry
    and worry at what it cost,
    my friends all see me lost
    and once again they tell me:

    “Time will tell.”

    Time after time they tell me;
    they chirp their incessant chime.
    But as much as time can tell me.
    there’s nothing I can tell time.

  68. Andrew Kreider


    Everyone is staring.  I don’t know why
    but I’m afraid something’s gone horribly wrong
    with my costume.  It seems no matter what I try
    everyone is staring!  I don’t know why
    I didn’t check my collar and my fly
    before this entrance.  Now it’s my big song,
    everyone is staring.  I don’t know why
    but I’m afraid something’s gone horribly wrong.

  69. Jane Shlensky

    Every One

    Tiny Tim was just a child
    with little else to say or know;
    when minor characters have pain,
    we sadly tut and let it go.

    What we remember of the lad,
    beyond crutches and early death,
    is that he daily met his dad
    and prayed for Scrooge with every breath.

    Let others blame and scheme and fret,
    be humbugs dawn to setting sun;
    Tim utters words we don’t forget,
    “God Bless Us All, Every One!”

    He’ll not forget a living thing,
    his suffering eye forgiving, mild,
    and we learn balm embraces sting
    in the voice of a little child.

  70. PoM

    Everyone …(?) Draft I

    Everyone sees thing differently
    Varied opinions so abundantly
    Every religion has a different view
    Reinventing god it’s sad but true
    Yakking and arguing constantly
    Oblivious to love and their silly folly
    Nauseating I tell you it sickens me
    Everyone sees things so differently

    Dam all religions I think god would say
    I’m sick of your foolishness and ideologies
    Saturate your hearts with love not savagery
    Sacrifice all for your fellow human beings
    And only then will you live in peace and harmony
    Gather all you people before me
    Rebuke religion serve only me
    Everyone live in peace and harmony
    Elation utopia globally
    Stop all this hatred and wicked deeds

    Abhorred I am by your refusal to see
    Concoct no more evil ideologies
    Remember love love is the key
    Only then will I not send my wrath upon thee
    Sickened it makes me as I watch what be
    The wrath of me will come upon thee
    If you do not change and serve love only
    Calamity will come upon humanity
    Answer the call I sent to thee
    Low and behold the time draws near
    Live in love or forever be separated from me
    You’ve now been warned now what will your choice be

  71. nessajay

    Everybody is Fiddling

    Sometimes buried in

    the check-out line
    witnessing Kim Kardashian’s pregnancy weight

    utility bill envelopes
    papercutting my soul

    overheard gossip
    humming along with the bus engine

    lunch detention slips
    failing to inspire students to learn

    I want to throw down what I’m holding
    rip off my clothes
    run out into the April rain screaming

    Stop! Wasting! Time!

    The tulips are blooming.
    Our bodies are dying.
    We can’t begin to guess
    the first cause of beauty
    its twin shadow cruelty
    We can only wonder what
    our destination will be
    when this train pulls
    away from the stop
    All tongues stop
    wagging and lick
    this blue plate special
    before that waitress
    clears the table.

  72. PressOn


    On older roads from slower times
    I often traipse at random pace
    and let the meters and the rhymes,
    the ordinaries and sublimes,
    all take their time and take their place
    within the furrows of my mind.

    On random jaunts I sometimes find
    another path that looses grace,
    where words, perhaps, will fly and bind
    with rhythms born of walking blind
    to urges of the human race
    on older roads from slower times.

  73. priyajane


    Everyone has a story to tell-
    Loving ones, and breaking hearts
    Ups and downs, and weaving parts
    Unfoldings, of growing pains
    Pleasures, as we spread our veins
    Some fears that run, deep in our cells
    Sometimes, we just wanna yell !
    Secret dreams, and learning games
    Faces, that do not have names
    We breathe our sunrises, sunsets
    Some of them we’d never tell!
    Scripting, with some prompts, we are given
    The rest, we bring forth, as we are driven
    It’s good to come outside ourselves
    And bond with others on the shelf
    Everyone, has a story, happening
    Tell me yours? I’m listening–

  74. JRSimmang

    Everyone Wakes

    and they leave behind a subtle ripple
    that rocks the boats of distant shores.

    and they allow one last passage
    for their loved ones to share forgotten stories.

    when the light filters in through dusty shutters,
    and soon the day clears its throat.

    except the ones who don’t.

  75. burrhead

    Everyone is here except you

    Your parents
    Uncles and aunts
    And all of their friends
    That you would remember from
    Holidays and celebrations
    Even some of your teachers showed up
    For your memorial service
    Everyone wishes you could be here
    To hear us say how wonderful you were
    Some of us think
    If you could have been here first
    Instead of that seedy motel
    With that other poor drug addicted kid
    That you wouldn’t have risked letting us lose you like that

  76. PressOn


    Our batteries are dead;
    our tires are in shock;
    we’ve sludge in the head
    and a crack in the block.

    We’re finally shirking
    our jobs, all can see;
    the junkyard is lurking
    for my clunker and me.

  77. PressOn


    Where bachelors and spinsters were meeting,
    divorced folks were given this greeting:
    “You might as well mingle
    with we who are single
    and, anyway, marriage is fleeting.”

  78. Never2L8

    Everyone has a story
    tales of glory
    or defeat.
    Tales of romance
    at first glance
    or a fickle cheat.
    Some have to tell
    every tiny detail
    ad nauseam.
    Others prate
    about their mate
    faces abeam.
    Everyone has a history
    Blistery or mystery
    they love to tell.
    But a bore
    I abhor
    and quickly say farewell.

  79. BiblioGypsy

    well, I didn’t follow the prompt, but….

    Life is a poem,
    And poetry is music.
    Eyes to see the imagery.
    Heart to beat the meter.
    Every breath a rhyme.

    Life is a poem
    Composed of many stanzas.
    For each its own lines,
    A different story to tell.
    Chapters of life, verses of song.

    Some may comprise a tragedy –
    Full of loss and many tears.
    Heartbreak and loneliness,
    Or being set adrift.
    Keep open eyes; it’s not over.

    Others will be a comedy –
    If only in hindsight.
    Perhaps just a chuckle, but
    Laughter with friends who’ve seen you through.
    Another heartbeat, another stanza.

    Moments of high drama will come,
    Then pass into fond memory:
    Great successes and tiny failures,
    Accomplishment of dreams and goals.
    Draw a deep breath – now write the next verse.


  80. Cin5456

    Everyone gets at least one second chance –

    The measure of a life is how it’s used.
    You can stick to your guns, and blaze away
    at all comers. I know right now you feel abused.
    I’ll console you later, though I watch with dismay.
    (God, how I wish you would learn to give way
    because your detractors are surely amused.)

    Free will holds no guarantee of wisdom,
    Second chances don’t come with a warranty.

    If you discover your second chance has arrived,
    consider the other point of view. Don’t think
    only of security. Consider how to thrive,
    because the future is not written in ink.
    (I’m sure you’ll be stubborn, and probably chink
    the crumbling wall you once built to survive)

    Strive for wisdom. Hold impatience in check,
    and ask one question: what would a wise man would do?
    One more thing, don’t worry you might appear weak.
    Then do as you wish; I’ll still be here for you.
    (But if your folly is fatal, I’ll be in the second pew.
    I wonder, could you be strong and yet meek?)

    Free will holds no guarantee of wisdom,
    Second chances don’t come with a warranty.

    So, consider with care
    what to do if you’re wrong,
    because second chances
    are exceedingly rare.

  81. Connie Peters

    Everyone Loves Chocolate

    Everyone loves chocolate.
    Well, maybe that’s not true.
    Perhaps someone doesn’t.
    Could be that it’s you.

    If it is, I wonder
    how you got that way.
    Did you fall on your head
    on that first birthday?

    Or maybe a large dog bit you
    when you tried to take a bite.
    And now eating chocolate
    fills you with such fright.

    Maybe while you were sleeping,
    you were zapped by an alien’s gun.
    And now eating chocolate
    is no longer fun.

    Why don’t you like chocolate?
    It’s puzzling as can be.
    But whatever the reason,
    I hope it won’t happen to me.

  82. Iain Douglas Kemp

    Everyone knows, but no-one says a word.

    It’s always the same!
    There are whispers and rumours.
    Some say they know.
    Others say they’ve heard.
    No-one ever says a word.
    To the one person who would
    Really want to know.

    It’s always the same!
    There is speculation and conjecture.
    Some say it’s a shame.
    Others say it was inevitable.
    No-one ever has the hutzpah
    To sit down and chat to the one
    Who should be told.

    It’s always the same!
    There are bitterly divided loyalties.
    Some throw the blame one.
    Others toss it the other.
    No-one ever has the decency
    To suggest that blame won’t help
    The one who is ignorant.

    It’s always the same!
    There is a sense of foreboding doom.
    Some say “Mum’s the word!”
    Others utter disbelief.
    No-one cares enough to say
    To the one being betrayed,
    “There’s something you should know…”


  83. Iain Douglas Kemp

    Dear Moosehead,
    Everyone keeps going on and on
    about the time it’s taking for the
    big hitters to get fit. Wake up,
    Bleacher Creatures! They’ll be ready
    when they are ready. Why would we
    wanna risk them too early? Yes, I’m
    sad that Jeter won’t be back ‘til after
    the All Stars break and we need him,
    but that’s the way the onions fall
    off the foot-long! Everyone says AP
    is one of the best pitchers ever and I
    ain’t arguing! Back at home tonight,
    which is just as well as yer ma & sis
    are on my case again!
    Pick ya up at 6 – I’ll stand the dogs etc.

    Yours wondering if everyone else is watching the same team,

    Ringo the Howler

  84. IrisD

    Everyone is Doing It

    “Everyone is doing it,” was our lame excuse
    to defend our desire to be child of the universe
    From generation to generation the refrain remains
    “Everyone is doing it” says the child of cocaine
    body piercing, loud music, video games, porn
    quitting school, driving too fast, pushing the norm
    “Everyone is doing it” eliminates not responsibility
    you alone take the stage for accountability

  85. Rosemary Nissen-Wade

    Everyone Says Boys Can’t Play with Dolls

    ‘Everyone says that I can’t
    play with dolls because I’m a boy.’
    He was four, in kindergarten.
    A little girl showed her new doll.

    ‘I really wanted that doll, but
    everyone said I couldn’t.’
    ‘What makes you a boy?’ I asked him.
    ‘Yes, it’s that thing between your legs.

    ‘If you play with a doll, will that
    drop off? No; you’ll still be a boy.
    Everyone who says you can’t
    play with dolls is talking bullshit.’

    I was that kind of Mum. And I
    went out and bought him his own doll.
    He cradled and sang to her. Then —
    as everyone says, boys can’t.

    He never dressed her, he never
    combed her hair. And when he was done,
    he threw her on a heap with his trucks.
    That’s how my boy played with his doll.