Gedichten over het onderwerp: routine

Gedichten over het onderwerp “routine” op Poets.by.

PeinzendDave Bonta

Nothing day

[Nothing going to dinner to hear news to his house to my house to the coffee house going on.]
PeinzendBananie

Fluid

I look at the scenery on the bus everyday It's the same trees The same grass The same guardrails and sheep out in the paddock But today I looked up For the first time ever I looked up, and instead of watching the repeated landscape I saw beautiful clouds Changing and moving And I felt peace
PeinzendBalachandran V

A Methodical Life

There is a method to starting a bike. A deliberateness, a pause, before every step. Keenly detecting flecks of dust, dried droppings Of crows, of oil leaked and sticking like paste Mixed, with the finest of grains Wiping it all clean. Flipping back the stand, inserting the key And turning it right, assured of the green light, You depress the lever; throttle closed, Carefully pressing your foot down on the kicker You pause – again, before bringing it down again Gently, but firmly and swiftly, Listening to the plug catching a spark. As the engine sputters to life, you listen to the thuds, even. With such intimacy, with almost love, you listen To the throb; your bike is alive.
PeinzendHans Ostrom

Career

I got into my car. I drove it so it joined other cars in a long, noisy line between one city and another. To my left another long line of cars moved from the city to which my line was going to the city I'd just left. When my car and I arrived, I stopped it and left it amongst other stopped cars. I entered a building. On one of its upper floors, I entered a room. I sat down. For several years
AngstigDouglas Luman

September 7, 1980

Today I have to wake up because tomorrow I have to wake up. I presume the geometry of a clock. So, I wake up because I expect to be greeted by either a circle or some stones. Now I'm out here with my palms up. How can I be the only one afraid of piety. I have to wake up because tomorrow.
PeinzendAnna Wickham

Question

If I live all my days by routine, Keeping days ordered and ways clean, Will there be room for Love in my life? Love who is born in storm, and lives in strife.