Those I Like

Published: March 2020

To help me and my frieds deal with mental health

Some Poems To Inspire And Think Many To Make Me Laugh

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1. Invictus

Famous Poem

Top 100 12
- By William Ernest Henley
in Famous Inspirational Poems

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
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Once I was a good student. I have always been an obedient and gentle person. Then I failed in my life for the first time in the year 2002. Something happened and I fell right from the top and...

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2. Sick

Famous Poem

Top 100 13
- By Shel Silverstein
in Famous Children Poems

“I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.

“I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox
And there’s one more--that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,
My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What’s that? What’s that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G’bye, I’m going out to play!”
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I routinely skipped school for some reasons that even I couldn't understand at the time. In a thorough medical checkup after 10th grade, my parents realized that I couldn't see well. I...

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3. Now We Are Six

Famous Poem

Top 100 19
- By A. A. Milne
in Famous Children Poems

When I was One,
I had just begun.
When I was Two,
I was nearly new.

When I was One,
I had just begun.
When I was Two,
I was nearly new.
When I was Three
I was hardly me.
When I was Four,
I was not much more.
When I was Five,
I was just alive.
But now I am Six,
I'm as clever as clever,
So I think I'll be six now for ever and ever.
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I remember my dad reading this poem to me when I turned 6! He read many poems and stories to me but this was one of my favorites! Did not realize it was Winnie the Pooh until recently. To...

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4. The Brook

Famous Poem
- By Alfred Tennyson
in Famous Nature Poems

I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.

I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.

By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorpes, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.

Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.

I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.

With many a curve my banks I fret
By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.

I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.

I wind about, and in and out,
With here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout,
And here and there a grayling,

And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak
Above the golden gravel,

And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.

I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.

I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
Against my sandy shallows.

I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars;
I loiter round my cresses;

And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
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I was read poetry to my mother born 1929 in faraway Colombo, Sri Lanka. She loved this poem, and I remember her animated voice bringing the words hidden in the babbling brook to life and the...

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5. I Still Matter

Top 100 96
- By Patricia A Fleming
- Published: September 2017
Dealing With Growing Old

in Aging Poems

I'M STILL HERE

My looks are nothing special,
My face reveals my age,

I'M STILL HERE

My looks are nothing special,
My face reveals my age,
My body shows some wear and tear,
And my energy's not the same.

Too often my memory fails me,
And I lose things all the time.
One minute I know what I plan to do,
And the next it may just slip my mind.

I try hard to avoid my mirror.
There are things I would rather not see,
And even those times when I just catch a glimpse,
I can no longer recognize me.

The things I used to do with ease
Can now cause aches and pains,
And the quality of the things I do
Will never be quite the same.

I always compare my older self
To those younger versions of me,
And I know I'm wasting too much time
Missing who I used to be.

But the thing that really makes me sad
Is despite what people see,
Underneath my tattered, worn out shell,
I'm still the same old me.

My heart can still feel endless love,
And at times it still can ache.
My heart can fill with so much joy,
And then it can suddenly break.

My soul can still feel sympathy
And longs for forgiveness and peace,
And there are times its light shines boldly through,
And times when it longs for release.

It's true, maybe now that I'm older,
Feeling lonely may be status quo,
But it also has made me more willing
To forgive and let past conflicts go.

So maybe to some I look ugly and old,
A person who barely exists.
I'm still quite aware of the beauty inside,
And my value should not be dismissed.

So although not as strong and no beauty, it's true,
I'm still here and want so much to live,
And I know that there's no one in this world quite like me,
And no one who has more to give.
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This poem really hit home with me. I will be 60 on my next birthday and it seems like years fly by like days. I too look in the mirror and wonder where all the lines and wrinkles have came...

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6. The Sands Of Time
- By Stephanie M. Lawrence
- Published: March 2020
The Ways In Which Times Changes Us

in Aging Poems

I look in the mirror and see
A stranger looking back at me.
Who's that person standing there
With wrinkled skin and such gray hair?

I look in the mirror and see
A stranger looking back at me.
Who's that person standing there
With wrinkled skin and such gray hair?
Could it be me?

Yesterday my hair was brown.
My skin was smooth, tan all around.
My shoulders straight, my posture proud.
My voice had strength to call out loud
My name.

I could dance all through the night
Until I saw the morning light,
And then I'd nap a short time and
I'd take my morning walk again.

Head for work, eyes all aglow.
Nothing 'bout me then was slow.
Was that yesterday?

Today I wake up when I can.
I try to stretch and cramps set in.
I stand up tall, at least I try,
But my arthritis makes me sigh.

My butt, it sags, my waist is gone
I shuffle now across the lawn.
My walker keeps me on my feet,
But sometimes my butt hits the street
Anyway.

Today is here, I thank the Lord.
I have no tumors, I'm just bored.
The sword of life cuts quickly through
The hours and days for me and you.

I had dreams yesterday
When life was grand and I could say
Someday when I'm old...
But that was yesterday.

And then I find today is here,
And I am looking in that mirror.
I see me, and suddenly
I am my mother, don't you see?

The hourglass of life begins
At birth, and one day it will end,
And through the sands of time are born
New generations that will form.

And one day looking in that mirror
A girl will see a stranger there
And wonder where she's seen somewhere
That person with wrinkles and such gray hair.
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7. A Wing And A Prayer
- By Michelle Butler
- Published: July 2013
Inspirational Poetry For Cancer Patients

in Courage Poems

Under the wing of an angel, we feel protected.
Through prayers to God, we feel connected.

Peace is said to be offered on the wings of a dove.

Under the wing of an angel, we feel protected.
Through prayers to God, we feel connected.

Peace is said to be offered on the wings of a dove.
Prayers can bring peace along with hope, faith, and love.

Wings of a jet plane provide a steady flight.
I pray you remain steady and strong through this fight.

Butterflies have wings to fly playfully free,
And free from this monster is what I pray you'll soon be.

Birds spread their wings as they may leave their nest.
We're spreading our prayers that you'll always be blessed.

Go fight and win this battle you didn't start.
On the wings of an angel and prayers from my heart.
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I'm 13 years old and my family and I have been fighting for my mum who has stomach cancer and she's fighting it for us. When I was little, I remember Mum always being in a hospital and...

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8. It Must Be Spring
- By May Fenn
- Published: June 2014
in Spring Poems

Hush, can you hear it?
The rustling in the grass,
Bringing you the welcome news that
Winter's day is past.

Hush, can you hear it?
The rustling in the grass,
Bringing you the welcome news that
Winter's day is past.
Soft, can you feel it?
The warm caressing breeze,
Telling you the sticky buds
Are bursting on the trees.
Look, can you see them?
The primrose in the lane.
Now you must believe it -
Spring is here again.
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Really nice poem for spring. Thank you for sharing!

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9. Sitting Here Pen In Hand, Brain In Neutral!
- By Paul L. Kennedy
- Published: January 2020
Sitting Down To Write A Poem

in Creative Poems

I want to write a poem, but I don't know where to start.
Should it be an ode to love and come straight from the heart?

Or should it wax lyrical of sky and moon and stars,

I want to write a poem, but I don't know where to start.
Should it be an ode to love and come straight from the heart?

Or should it wax lyrical of sky and moon and stars,
or of planets of our universe Pluto, Jupiter, or Mars?

It could be of the flora or fauna of this, our wonderful land,
or of walking barefoot on a lonely beach kicking up the sand.

Of countries and of places where the surroundings seem so strange,
frozen lands, dense jungles, valleys deep and of vast mountain's range.

Rivers long, the life blood of lands they pass along their way,
irrigating crops and refreshing thirsts continually night and day.

Or of the sheer beauty of Mother Nature we can experience all around,
from the gigantic right down to microscopic, many wondrous things abound.

Maybe of the sadness felt when the highest price is paid,
be it that of unselfish sacrifice of life or whenever it is made.

Well, after all those varied thoughts, I have no idea how to carry on.
I only wish I had learned some music, and then I'd have written a song!
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10. Night Noises
- By Alan Balter
- Published: September 2019
in Funny Poems for Kids

My parents' bedroom is far from mine, so I have to wonder
What the noise is every night that sounds a lot like thunder.
We don't live near the seashore, but almost every morn
I'm wakened by a noise that sounds like a fog horn.

My parents' bedroom is far from mine, so I have to wonder
What the noise is every night that sounds a lot like thunder.
We don't live near the seashore, but almost every morn
I'm wakened by a noise that sounds like a fog horn.

It's louder than the sound of barking dogs at night
Or a fireworks explosion that lights the sky real bright.
A chainsaw cutting logs doesn't make as much din,
Nor did the wall coming down way over in Berlin.

A jet plane at takeoff will get your attention quick,
As will a jackhammer engaged in busting up some brick.
But neither equals the clamor from Mom and Dad's bedroom,
Worse than a stack of dynamite at the moment of KABOOM!

At last I figured out the source of all the raucous roaring.
It was only good old Dad engaging in some snoring
Mom says: "I don't mind; it's really a Godsend
That all that wind isn't coming out the other end."
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The writer has given a humorous touch to a common incident found in many a home. Mother's lighthearted comment, "I don't mind; it's really a godsend" makes the idea more effective.

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (1)

1 - 10 of 10

Those I Like

Some Poems To Inspire And Think Many To Make Me Laugh

1. Invictus

2. Sick

3. Now We Are Six

4. The Brook

5. I Still Matter

6. The Sands Of Time

7. A Wing And A Prayer

8. It Must Be Spring

9. Sitting Here Pen In Hand, Brain In Neutral!

10. Night Noises