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abortion absence
abuse addiction
adventure africa
age allah
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angel anger
angst animal
anniversary anti bullying
anxiety appreciation
april arabic
art assonance
aubade august
autumn baby
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baseball basketball
beach beautiful
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best friend betrayal
bible bio
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birthday black african american
blessing blue
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books boxing day
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brother bullying
business butterfly
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car care
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cat celebration
celebrity change
chanukah character
cheer up chicago
child child abuse
childhood children
chocolate christian
christmas cinco de mayo
cinderella city
class clothes
color columbus day
community computer
confidence conflict
confusion cool
corruption courage
cousin cowboy
crazy creation
crush cry
culture cute love
dad daffodils
dance dark
daughter day
death death of a friend
december dedication
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desire destiny
devotion discrimination
divorce dog
dream drink
drug earth
earth day easter
education emo
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endurance engagement
england environment
epic eulogy
eve evil
fairy faith
family fantasy
farewell farm
fashion father
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fathers day fear
february feelings
film fire
firework first love
fish fishing
flower flying
food football
for children for her
for him for kids
forgiveness freedom
french friend
friendship fruit
fun funeral
funny funny love
future games
garden gender
giggle girl
girlfriend giving
god golf
good friday good morning
good night goodbye
gospel gothic
graduate graduation
grandchild granddaughter
grandfather grandmother
grandparents grandson
grave green
grief growing up
growth guitar
hair halloween
happiness happy
happy birthday hate
health heart
heartbreak heartbroken
heaven hello
hero high school
hilarious hindi
hip hop history
hockey holiday
holocaust home
homework hope
horror horse
house how i feel
howl humanity
humor humorous
hurt husband
hyperbole i am
i love you i miss you
identity image
imagery imagination
immigration independence day
innocence insect
inspiration inspirational
integrity international
internet introspection
ireland irony
islamic january
jealousy jesus
jewish jobs
journey joy
judgement july
june kid
kindergarten kiss
language leadership
leaving life
light little sister
london loneliness
lonely longing
loss lost
lost love love
love hurts lust
lyric magic
malayalam marathi
march marriage
math may
me meaningful
memorial day memory
men mental illness
mentor metaphor
middle school military
miracle mirror
miss you missing
missing you mom
money moon
morning mother
mother daughter mother son
mothers day motivation
mountains moving on
mum murder
muse music
my child my children
mystery myth
mythology name
native american natural disasters
nature new year
new years day new york
nice niece
night nonsense
nostalgia november
nursery rhyme obituary
ocean october
old onomatopoeia
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passion patriotic
peace people
perspective pets
philosophy places
planet poems
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poets political
pollution poverty
power prayer
prejudice preschool
presidents day pride
princess prison
proposal psychological
purple quinceanera
race racism
rain rainbow
rainforest rap
raven recovery from
red relationship
religion religious
remember remembrance day
repetition retirement
riddle rights
river romance
romantic rose
roses are red rude
sad sad love
satire scary
school science
science fiction sea
seasons self
senses sensual
september sexy
sick silence
silly silver
simile simple
sin sister
sky slam
slavery sleep
smart smile
snow soccer
social society
softball soldier
solitude sometimes
son song
sorrow sorry
soulmate sound
space spanish
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sports spring
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storm strength
stress student
success suicide
summer sun
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surreal sweet
symbolism sympathy
tamil teacher
teachers day technology
teen teenage
thank you thanks
thanksgiving thanksgiving day
tiger time
today together
travel tree
tribute true love
trust truth
universe uplifting
urban urdu
usa vacation
valentines day vanity
veterans day violence
visionary vogon
voice volleyball
voyage war
water weather
wedding wife
wind wine
winter wisdom
woman women
word play words
work world
world war i world war ii
write writing
yellow youth

Long Stress Poems

Long Stress Poems. Below are the most popular long Stress by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stress poems by poem length and keyword.

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |

Reclusive Accountabilities

I am sick of excuses to avoid responsibility
and I am, today, sick with excuses to avoid responsibility
with "I'm just a mortal human. I make mistakes.
I judge situations and relationships,
assess potential risks to care and nourishing choices
badly sometimes."

I do. And so do you.

At the same time,
I applaud mutually transparent accountability
to always do our best,
to apply Golden Rules as broadly stretching out across time and species,
until no moment escapes our WinWin ecoconscious
YES!
to totally sharing accountability for
my/our judgments,
communication,
my/our relationships,
for both positives and negatives.
Yes to sharing accountability for my/our environments and cultural climates,
my/our days,
my/our generations,
my/our species,
my/our choices of entertainment and amusement,
my/our realities and imaginations,
my/our judiciary system,
my/our Police Officers
and attorneys
and judges
and potentially useful WinWin ecopolitical leaders
and, of course,
loving parents
co-mentoring breathing in
as breathing out together with both ears nondually co-arising Basic Attendance.

Responsible,
doing the best I can each moment,
mindful behavior choices
are nourished by low-stress environments,
and their wise and good-humored caretakers.

When law enforcement is culturally more important
than peace enforcement,
When the criminalization of humanity is culturally acceptable
ecopolitical harm through coldly-calculated bullying,
repressive intimidation,
then we are all entrapped in mutually-paranoid terrorism and LoseLose scenarios,
correctional strategies guaranteed to bring the worst possible outcomes
for everyone,
about which absolutely no one is really better than miserable.

Criminal-prejudice is no more politically, economically, ecologically healthy
than is racism.
In fact, for many U.S. people of color,
racism feels a whole lotta like presumption of abusive/neglectful criminal-intent.
Paranoia is this same presumption, writ large,
across our entire BusinessAsUsual cultural climate of pathology.

Peace enforcement
and the full balanced ecoconscious humanization of this species
require us to accept what we might see and hear
and feed ourselves,
in positive healthy ecopolitical days and nights
as positively incarnated Reality Shows
where everybody actually wins what they most need in the end,
or at least more than they had,
where there are no real losers needed to make a good wholesome story,
positive youtube videos are for every mind and body's WinWin future.

Law enforcement
and the nihilistic further commodification and criminalization of humanity
does not nourish well-rounded healthy regenerations
to build up who we ecotherapeutically are
and where we are headed together,
like cynical negative Reality Shows,
and sociopathic social media messages
of violence and mayhem begets more of same.

We have positive Selfies and social media stars
and there are also negatives.
But, we hope our political leaders
and police officers
and judicial systems
are feeding more on the positive
and not frothing at the mouth so much
in actively dissonant mistrusts of collective culturally degenerative paranoia.

We have a profound ecopolitical choice to make,
to invest in positive health assumptions of Golden Rule good faith
until proven otherwise,
not just strongly, prejudicially, and malignantly suspected,
and we too often invest in negative social and eco-political poor health choices,
news and interpreted events
as entertainments and grist for ruminating imaginations 
and then paranoid realities,
LoseLose pathologies,
absence of faith in a more integrative regenerative future.

We can choose to learn our way toward more robust Climate Health,
or go this other way, 
with armed humorless paranoids
disguised in peace officer uniforms,
really out to get themselves yet another victim
of their anger and disappointment with humanity's
lack of self-respect and responsibility,
including their own sometimes
when they really are not doing the best they can
in a struggling situation.
Or, are they?

Those who feast on negative media and gaming entertainments,
bad-environment choices,
maybe shouldn't take the lead on determining what is commercially-viable news
about challenging and suffering events and cultures
and religions,
and economic and political systems,
and ecological systems 
still gasping for more positive good-news health
and less sardonic nihilism,
and paranoia.

Responsibility meets our levels of accountability
for trust and empathy
and active listening and noticing possibilities to minimize victimization,
criminalization,
revenge,
stealth and duplicity,
anger and fear,
mistrusts growing into raging distrustful paranoid hatreds
of individual magical fragile sacred people,
and families nurtured by and in and with Beloved Communities,
we have too often reduced to vocational labels
associated with diatribes of prejudicial disrespect,
not understanding victim-creators suffer too,
for what they do and what they have failed to do,
as how they are
in this too-toxic environment.

If you cannot find any compassion for your accusers,
your nay-sayers,
your deniers,
your bullies and fascists and terrorists
for their ridiculous LoseLose scenarios
begging for a good laugh,
rather than satirical character assassinations,
stepping out of WinWin hopes and faiths for health and help and hope,
then you are still looking
for how this that has happened to you
could move further toward WinWin ecopolitics,
more opportunities for health with less risk of pathology,
as am I,
while a paranoid white male Police Officer
continues shouting through my screen door
about my highly over-rated sense of shameless disregard for others.

Maybe he just needs more sleep,
better meds.
Who knows?
I wish they wouldn't let him out loose with a gun
by himself,
he's scaring me and my kids
with his humorless lack of hearing
and therefore compassion for others
who probably also could use more sleep,
more vacation,
less negative recreations.



Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Maxine Jones | Details |

Blew it away like the sand

So I have some things, that I just have to say,
but please do not take me in the wrong way,
I have this tiny little problem, inside me you see,
and its called trying to live with ADHD.

These thing's that you say, they way you behave,
drive me insane, and inside me I crave,
to tell you your wrong, and look like a mug,
I cant stand the thought, of you being a thug.

If I see you pushing and constantly thrashing, 
my friends whom are weak, intending to bash em,
I will have to stand up, and defend with my heart,
Say it to me if you really wanna start!

Ill tell you the truth, don't you threat about that,
I'll never be scared of you, swinging that bat.
I've been through worse times, than you can inflict,
you can laugh and say that I am just a (b)witch.

I've taken many a beating, from one's harder than you,
you're a joke, you're clown, do the best you can do,
you will not like me, cause ill tell you the truth,
it ain't all about being a spoof.

You're a book that's been read, from cover to cover,
Predictable, laughable and not the best lover, 
you're as see through as cling film, but before its too late,
get a grip you sad person, before they will hate.

you can change the future, if only you'd try,
stop accusing and blaming, and questioning why?
look around you and see, you have a great life, 
but if you don't see before you, lose a possible wife.

So I'll tell it like it is, I wont mince my words
right there, right now, you got an incredible bird,
she loves you and would never hurt you, never make you cry,
but you spit and you hiss, and you don't even try.

You're straight out the book, the tactics you use
we know the next step, we know the short fuse,
The questions, the timing, the jealousy of friends,
its all a plan, for her social life to end.

There's really no need to hate and to follow, 
trust isn't really a bitter pill to swallow.
Life and love is really OK, 
don't be an idiot and throw it all away.

when you have a good woman be happy and proud,
get on that roof top and shout it out loud.
don't toss it aside, cause  your angry inside,
give love a chance, her on your arm bursting with pride.

I'll be honest, and truthful, and hope you will find,
the problem within, ill try to be kind,
but ADHD just makes me be true
I really mean no harm, just giving you a clue.

You can hate me, detest me, I really don't care, 
I know what your about, I'll stand and stare,
see if you have the balls,  to really be true, 
when you stand say 'hello, and how are you?' 

Been there, and done it, its really no big deal,
2 faced coward is what i do feel.
thing is it really, you don't need to be like that, 
but too proud to say, 'yeah OK I been a prat'

No need at all for the mess that is made, 
drag yourself out of that neanderthal cave.
there's more to life than fighting and hating,
you only get on shot, so love and stop wasting.

Let people in, let out your fears,
or cling on to em tight, for another 30 years,
hold on to trouble, grip tight onto hate,
lets these years pass you by, and then its too late.

look at yourself, are you really ok??
want another day marked off, with only hate to say?
we want to make you smile, and assure you its fine, 
hold glasses of wine up and clink with ' lets dine'

So I suppose the point, I am trying to say, 
with my ADHD, I'll just say it this way, 
My words come out 'hectic' and not make much sense,
but I'm trying to help you, I make no pretense.

If you think this is about you, or someone you know,
I hope that this poem will help someone to grow, 
Just ask and I'll tell you, I wont hide in the forest,
I don't have two faces, you know ill be honest!

So I bid you goodnight, and tell you I'm grateful, 
for Tony, my love, I can trust he'll be faithful,
He treats me with love and respect, don't harass me,
two way trust, with my man, means the world, I'll never judge he.

Shame on you wasters, throwing real love away,
it will spring up on you, you'll realize one day, 
you had it right there, in the palm of your hand,
but crushed it and blew it away like the sand.

Copyright © Maxine Jones | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by James Andersen | Details |

A Road to Redemption

Traffic backed up.  My morning drive.
My mind foggy and cluttered as I ride.
When a crazy thought at once entered my head
And off the main road, I turned instead
To travel down a strange and different route
And wondered at the road as it curved about.
Both lanes were lined with live and leafy trees
The world was a collage of dark browns and wild greens.
Sunlight creeping through the mossy mass
Danced and played behind each tree as I passed.
 
On and on, down the road, I drove
Until I stopped suddenly at a quiet abode.
An old farmhouse neatly hidden in the trees
Just waiting to be found by someone like me.
A tiny little place in great disrepair
Begging for someone to come and show a little care.
I couldn’t help but to step away from my car
And stare in amazement from the road afar.
I walked closer through the tall damp grass
Past the rusty well pump and to the house at last.
 
With a heavy sigh, I took it all in. 
The rock foundation and the old wood bin
The white paint all of it chipped and faded
Left the old house wind-beaten and nearly naked
Its once stout walls, now grey and old
Let in the rain, the wind and even the cold.
The old tin roof baked orange-red with rust
Bellowed and moaned with each wind gust.
The front porch creaked and bowed under my weight
But, for some reason, it didn’t sound like a complaint.
 
As I stood on the porch I summoned my strength
And dared to go inside to have a quick peek.
The old brass knob gave easily with a twist
Releasing the latch with a loud metallic click.
The wooden front door slid open with grace
While a puff of stale dust hit me square in the face.
It opened to a room large and nearly bare
Except for a framed picture above an old rocking chair.
A few quick steps took me across the bare room
To that picture covered in dirt and a little bit of gloom.
 
A quick wipe with the sleeve of my shirt
Cleared the glass cover and removed the dirt.
The picture couldn’t have shown a happier sight,
A tidy little family posing in the clear sunlight.
A simple sight from a simpler time
Brought feelings of nostalgia and a tear to my eye.
With one final glance, I hung the picture back on the wall
And turned and walked down a short narrow hall
That led to a door that led outside.
And I found myself staring at this farm's greatest pride.

A grand orchard of apples and pear;
Not overgrown but tended with care.
The grass neatly trimmed around each tree
And a large Live Oak holding a swaying tire swing.
It was all encased inside a white wooden fence
Lined with wildflowers lush and dense.
But there was no sign of people, no sound but the breeze,
No squirrels in the trees, no birds and no bees.
Nothing in this scene felt quite right
But, for some strange reason, I felt calm not fright.
 
Though I wanted to stay I knew I didn’t belong,
In this little orchard planted by a family now gone.
I walked back to the house and down the narrow hall.
And took one last look at the picture hanging on the wall.
I stared at the faces of the family in the scene
And smiled when I replaced it wiped fresh and clean.
I walked back to the door and breathed the fresh air
And turned one more time and saw the rocking chair
I stared for a moment barely believing my eyes
The chair was rocking back and forth in rhythmic time.
 
I watched for a moment and felt a calming peace,
All of my stress and worry, a sudden release.
Overcome with emotion there at the door
I cried for no reason and fell to the floor.
I felt hands on my shoulders and one on my head
I could hear their soft prayers for my soul they pled.
After a time, I stood and looked around
Inside and out they were nowhere to be found.
So back to my car I walked very slow
I started the engine and to home, I drove.

Copyright © James Andersen | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Donn Ronquillo | Details |

PRESSURE

pressure to the roneom[
































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































pressures of the norm,
going beyond the storm.
branded by the stigma;
persecuted by other's feedback,
false insecurities,
lacking humility.
judged by the trauma,
hindered by all the drama.
toying with the hurt,
random ego sanity complex.
confusion with reality;
fantasy fanatics,
backsliding with habits.
boredome with under rated exploits,
shackled by the struggle and pain.
unjustified secrets and cruel ploys,
with tainted stains.
offering no comfort,
the teardrops that wasn't meant to be compare.






























-













Copyright © Donn Ronquillo | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Timothy Hicks | Details |

While Waiting For My Return Flight Home

"You in the military?"

I was confused at first and didn't know why the man would ask me such a question. But then I remembered my recent haircut.

"No... is it because I shaved my head, that you think that?"

He laughed, in confirmation. At the time he seemed good-natured and so I decided to try and spark some kind of conversation. After all why not? I had two hours worth of sitting ahead of me, and I was bored of the silence.

"Do you think it's weird that I shave my head?". Admittedly I'm not the most graceful conversationalist. "Not at all... so why are you headed to Boise?". I told him I live there and that I just got back from Europe. For some reason where I came from didn't interest him much.

"You study at BSU?". I told him no, and he started to sway back and forth. He had a weird habit of not being able to stand completely straight. "What do you do?". And I said I was just a pizza-maker, and thought the description was ample. He paused for five minutes and then said in a low condescending voice "I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that. Now what do you DO?".

I was exhausted from almost twenty hours of drawn out sitting, and plus I was never good at clever responses, so I said dumbly "I don't know". He said "What about CWI? You know, coll-ege-of-west-ern-i-da-ho", pronouncing each syllable precisely. Did he think I had mental problems or something? "I don't know, I haven't looked very deep into it".

He seemed irritated with me and continued that annoying sway of his. My shallow side got the best of me and I couldn't help but form conclusions of what he thought of me. Like for instance; this kid probably spends most of his time playing video-games... that is when he's not smoking pot. Hell, maybe he even does both at the same time. Those were the thoughts that came to me and I was helpless to stop them.

He showed me his military ID, saying proudly "See here, I'm in the military." Placing his finger right on his portrait. I said "Cool!". But I really just wanted some peace and quiet. He put his card back in his wallet. But he had this look about him, that showed deep disappointment. He looked as though he was waiting for some profound response from my end. Did he expect me to bow down, kiss his feet, and shout out "Oh you brave man! I'm simply not worthy of your presence!" But no, all I said was cool and continued to look at the giant digital clock on the wall. Will this plane ever get here!?

"C'mon man, you gotta know what you wanna do in life!". His badgering just wouldn't stop, but I was in no mood to breathe any comebacks beside mechanical responses. I could have told him I had a passion for composing songs on my piano, and that I was self-taught; or that I had enough material on my Kindle Fire to start at least a couple books. I could've even quoted Plato, stating "College polishes pebbles, but dims diamonds". But I don't think that would have jived well with him and would have simply caused me more stress. Why should I bother defending myself to someone who knew absolutely NOTHING about me? I just wanted to get home after a month of being away. Not get lectured by this complete stranger who refused to get the hint.

"My son is seventeen years old and has no idea what he wants to do". Was he talking to himself or me? "I'd like to show him brochures of Michigan or Hawaii," he snickered, "Heck, maybe that would get him out of the house!". I mentally rolled my eyes at him - I was simply too beat to do it physically. I've never been so grateful to have a dad like mine. That poor, poor kid! When the plane, at last arrived, I rejoiced that I didn't have sit next to that meddlesome man. I say this in complete seriousness, that he was quite possibly the most irritating person I've ever met.

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Robert Candler | Details |

The Doctor Is A Dead Man Walking

Bob had a special talent
That only worked in his men’s store.
He had ‘clothing ESP’.
He knew what his customers wanted…and more.

When customer would come into his store
Bob would invariably say, 
“Hello. I'm Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”

And he was always right,
Never missed a color, fabric, style or size.
He even knew the necessary alterations.
Customers couldn’t believe their ears and eyes.

Meanwhile, in another part of town,
Joe had a pounding, relentless migraine
For every minute for more than five years,
It had driven him near insane.

He’d lost his job to the pain.
Then, he lost his wife.
He had lost a lot of weight and rarely slept.
Yes, his was a miserable life.

And, of course,  sex was out of the question…
Even a little self-abuse.
There was nothing left for Joe but pain.
He felt his life was of no use.

So, Joe went to his doctor.
“Doc, please help me end this pain.
Give me something to make me sleep
And never wake up again.”

“You know I can’t assist your suicide.”,
Then he looked sad, perhaps ashamed.
“I never dreamed it would last five years,
But I know how to end the pain.”

“You can make it go away?!
Tell me, Doc!  What’s the word?”
“I’ll have to remove your testicles.”
Was the last thing that Joe heard.

But…when he came to, it struck him.
Sex was out of the question anyway;
But he might enjoy his meals again,
And he could sleep for days.

“Please check me in, Doc.
This opportunity I cannot shirk.”
So, the doctor removed his testicles.
He did his very best work.

A few days later, Joe waddled along,
Headache free and feeling pretty nice;
But every attractive woman he saw 
Reminded him of his sacrifice.

He decided it was appropriate
To do something nice for himself for a change.
So, he went into a travel agency;
And a six month cruise he arranged.

As he left the travel agency,
He was excited, feeling ready to go;
But for such a glorious adventure,
He would need new clothes.

As he walked along, he saw Bob’s Men's Store.
He walked in, only to hear Bob say,
“Hello.  I’m Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”

“How could you know?” asked Joe.
“It’s a gift.  I don’t know how, but I do.
You’ve suffered five years with an ailment,
Found relief, so now you’re taking a cruise.” 

Joe could not believe his ears.
How could this stranger possibly know?
"You're right! That's amazing!
And I'm going to need new clothes." 

Bob then laid out a fabulous wardrobe
All the right colors, fabrics, styles…and each size.
Joe was incredibly impressed.
He could hardly believe his ears and eyes.

“How do you like the wardrobe?”
“It’s wonderful!”  Bob could see that Joe was pleased.
“Now,” said Bob, “What about undergarments;
You know…shorts and tees?

Let’s see…medium crew neck tees, all cotton.
I believe that you prefer white….
And jockey shorts, all cotton…. 34s.
Yes, I'm sure that’s right.”

Joe beamed, “You’re an amazing talent
And I just this second realized,
You've laid out this entire wardrobe
And only missed one size.”

Bob, surprised by his mistake, asked, “Really?
What did I miss?  I did my best for you.”
“Well…you’re right.” said Joe, “I do wear Jockeys,
But…well…I wear 32s.

“Oh, no!” said Bob with an ugly grimace.
“That would be a serious mistake.
Thirty-twos will cramp your balls, 
You’ll get migraine headaches.”

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Jerry T Curtis | Details |

Santa's Seeing Red

-------------------------------------------------------------
Santa’s Seeing Red

Late one evening up at the pole
Santa was watching TV
He shook his head as he started for bed
After seeing how people could be
All night long he tossed and turned
I guess he just couldn’t let go
He saw a sleigh and watched burn
As it sat there in the snow
When he woke He realize 
That Christmas was actually dead
He couldn’t sleep with those sugarplums 
Dancing inside his head, Now it’s said
      Santa’s seeing red

That next morning, Santa was warming
His hands by a fireside
Someone had set the toyshop a flame
But there was no one,  to blame in site
The elves then noticed the deer were gone
Someone must have let them go
But they never seemed to take noticed 
There were no tracks left in the snow
That same day they had a feast 
But not a single word was said
About were all the meat came from
That was stuffed inside the bread, with Christmas dead
      Santa’s seeing red

After dinner Santa stood up
And laid off all of his crew
He said the world was so screwed up
There was nothing He could do
He said that people hearts were colder
Much colder than the Arctic’s air
They're filled with greed, and blind to the needs 
Of poor people everywhere, 
So Father Christmas will be no more
For the little girls and little boys
They can say goodbye to all of those treats 
And all those fricken' toys,  Because instead
     Santa’s seeing red

So when the twenty-fifth rolls by
You can treat it like another day
Santa’s found a new hometown
And a different game to play
He now sits back upon a beach
With women and booze he likes
Forgetting about frozen toes
And all of those silent nights 
So don’t you pout and you better watch out
For that lump of coal instead
You did your part now add to your cart
All the things that I’ve just said, and where it’s lead
     To Santa’s seeing red

Some say that giving is more blessed
And better than to receive
Santa will put you to the test
And see what you believe
So pass a man who’s homeless
Without reaching for a little doe
For what you do might follow you 
No matter where you go
Now you’re sitting on Christmas eve
Just thinking about what I’ve said
You’ll all miss your shiny gifts
But not the people without bread,  so stay bed
         Cause Santa’s seeing red
                        
So don’t look at the poor folks
Just look the other way
And Christ won’t be the only one
That’s missing on Christmas day, 
Just drink until you’re merry
And feast until you’re full
He knows that you’ve been naughty
Cause he’s not gullible 
So when you see him on the street
It’s a sight that you should dread
Cause he knows all your sins
And they're stored inside his head or so it’s said
         Santa’s seeing red


Now it’s time to anti up 
And dig into your stash
If you want him to stay quiet
Better cough up a little cash
And I think that you’ll remember
Christmas time every year
It’s time to give to Santa
Or live in constant fear
So you had better be real nice
And kick in a little bread
And you’ll better not think it twice
Or your reputation will be dead, like I said
Santa’s seeing red










Copyright © Jerry T Curtis | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |

Hunting Health

Nature hunts health
to heal those and that hunted.

Spirit healths those and that haunted
by haunting those and that unhealed.

Human nature reincarnates this universal search
of why and why not health, healing, nutritionally confluent intimacy,
lover as content of beloved,
fearer as discontenting socio-ecopathology,
self and other primally identified as hunted haunted co-arising victims.

What meaning could "Universe" have outside our hunt for why
and how
to optimize co-arising healthy hunts
to extinguish co-victimization?

Universe is everything, all space through time,
so could not be contained within any deductive-only label,
closed-set assumption of formed logic.

Universe becomes uni-verb,
universing folds and unfolds our binomial,
bicameral co-arising hunt for conscious co-prehension
of Earth Tribe's dual-transparent Prime Relationship Elder,
as Duelling Destiny,
both hunter and hunted egos searching ecologic
as cooperative economic principles of health as wealth
absorb our permacultured decomposition
of co-arising nondual thermodynamic balance
and sustained health.

Earth is our home,
our communal hunting soil and soul
for why healing nature
co-arises natural health of human nature.

Time's eternal bilateral nondual answer
balances our humane cultural praxis,
regenerating recreative hunters and gatherers 
of healthy Prime Relational Universing,
with sole intention of becoming Beloved hunted nurturing entities.

Universe, Earth, bicameral human nature,
each blinking neutral double-dark negative
for every informational synaptic positive,
all one living self-regenerative co-arising open system
of self-creative hunting,
communing communication,
dancing co-weaving hunt-and-gather dance,
ecological stage-cast as hunger for how, 
and hunted by why.

Yet if there were no dying or death
no fear of fear itself
no anger about being anger,
no ultimate loss in losing,
no competition outside the double-bond of co-challenging cooperation,
then why and how this universal hunt for healthy life
would emerge transparently self-evident.

Nondual destiny of co-reposing death
recycling abundantly balancing regenerative life,
unfolds fear of fears to refold sustaining love through time.

Fear and anger meet in hated haunted hunting death,
each event a primally significant tipping point,
risk and opportunity to co-develop mutual mentorships
as permacultured hunter-learners
seeking ecotherapeutic co-redemption.

Eco-valent gratitude communes with hunting natural prime relationship,
in and out,
in with out,
in or out,
in as out,
as we globally evolve this comprehension
that love is to spirit is to healthy hunting
as medicine is to nature is to beloved cooperating wealth.

Human nature hunts eternally inclusive health
to heal our self/other-suffering timeless nondual nature.

Absorb only our most abundantly healthy functions, forms, and frequencies
to expel internal, yet universal, pathological suffering.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by kj force | Details |

Garden Club Ruse Finality part 2

The years passed, things never did get better..
Her Garden Club was the only thing that held her together
The mental abuse had taken it’s toll...
As far as he was concerned he owned her soul..
She now felt she had no recourse..
And decided she had to find a source..
To end this life as she knew it..
And move on without the commitment...
It was a Friday one cold winter day..
He told her he was going to Vegas to play..
But we have no money, you said yesterday..
No, YOU !  have no money he said and...
I wish you were dead...
He had bragged for years, this day would come
When he would choose another one..
But before I leave...he had a request..
Make me my favorite dinner...for me and a guest
She is younger than you and oh what a catch..
So she went to the freezer to find and fetch..
A suitable roast for he and his guest...
She found just the right thing for his favorite meal..
A large leg of lamb, or was it Veal ?
It was heavy, about twenty pounds she thought...
What was I thinking when this was bought ?
Back in the kitchen, he was still raving...
About how useless this marriage was of saving...
I really don’t care what happens to you...
But I’ll see you get nothing, not even a shoe...
With that she swung the 20 pound roast...
It smashed in his skull, he was dead right away...
Oh my, she said, what a way to start the day...
She grabbed the roast and put it in a pan...
And began to figure out a plan... of what to do with this man...
She thought for a moment and remembered the strife..
That went with her ordering that “ Ginzu “ knife...
It was a TV offer she couldn’t pass up, never needed sharpening....
 and cut thru bone..order one now and get one free..
It was the first and last time she used the credit card and that was in 1963.
The knife worked well, she thought , now that was a bargain
Placed the parts in a bag and headed for the garden...
Body parts were buried in the dirt..
And she smiled upon the burning of her shirt..
She took the roast to her Garden Club meeting..
It was a special event and guess who was speaking ?
The Chief of Police and his subject was on spousal beating..
And by the way he said he would like the recipe for his wife..
The weeks went by, she was happy everyday...
 And then it happened, is was the first of May..
 The big event she had waited for all year..
 Her entry of the “ *Amorphophallus Titanum “...
 Oh how proud she was...when awarded top prize..
 A very rare plant, said the Judge...and has a very weird odor..
And it’s not very pleasant...as a matter of fact
 It smells like rotting meat , said another, sorta sour.
Which is why said the Judge..it’s commonly called the ...* Corpse Flower..
                                                                                          

 * Native to the rainforest, flowers are rare and if it blooms,
Is one of approximately 140 recorded in history...
Most recently on display in New York City in 2012...

Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Carolyn Crawford | Details |

LAWD, AH'M TOO TIRED TO SHOUT

by Carolyn V. Crawford AKA Rachel Dunkerque

Evalina, Evalina,
Won't you come on and shout!
You didn't come up to Heaven
To sit down and pout.

AH KIN POUT EF AH WANNA, LAWD
AH'M TOO TIRED TO SHOUT.
BEEN A LONG TIME GITTIN' HEANH
AH'M JES TOO TIRED TO SHOUT.

But you ought to want to shout
Since it took you so long
Don't you feel like shouting
With this heavenly throng?

'SIDE FROM MY OLD BODY BEIN' SO ACHY AND TIRED
AH'M GITTIN' TIRED O' YOU NAGGIN' ME TO SHOUT, SHOUT, SHOUT!
YOU RIGHT, AH BEEN A LONG TIME GITTIN' UP TO DIS PLACE
EF AH HAD DE STRENGTH, AH'D SLAP YOU IN DE FACE
YOU DIDN'T MIND ME WOIKIN' SUNUP TO SUNDOWN.
PAID NO 'TENTION WHEN AH WRINKLED FROM ALL O' MY FROWNS
YOU KNOW, DIS TIREDNESS STARTED BACK WHEN AH WAS FIVE YEARS OLD
LONG 'FO AH EVER KNOWED AH EVER HAD A SOUL.
AH LUGGED BUCKETS O' WATER TO WATER DE CROPS
HOED AND HOED TILL AH THOUGHT AH'D DROP
PICKED BERRIES IN DE MOANIN', IN DE HEAT OF DE DAY
WASHED CLOTHES FUH DE WHITE FOLKS TILL MY HANDS TURNT GRAY.

But Evalina, Evalina, that's all over now
You came up to Heaven to rejoice and wear a crown.
So Evalina, Evalina, please come on and shout
Let's rejoice for a while, now come on and shout.

GIMME TIME TO BLOW MY BREAF, LAWD
AH AIN'T MADE O' NO STEEL
MY FEETS HURTS ME SO BAD
AIN'T 'BOUT TO GIT TO MY KNEES
TO PRAY UP TO DE POINT O' SHOUTIN'
'CAUSE MY KNEES ACHE, TOO
SO DON'T TELL ME AH'M JES' POUTIN'
MY SHOUTIN' IS THROUGH
'SIDES AH SHOUTED ENOUGH
DOWN WHERE AH COME FROM
AH THOUGHT DIS PLACE WAS QUIET
OR AH WOULDNA COME.
ALL DESE FOOLS JES' HOLLERIN'
JES' SHAKIN' AND SHOUTIN'
LAWD, AH AIN'T CRAZY.
AIN'T GON' LET YOU WEAR ME OUT.

Evalina, Evalina, you have to hear me out
I can't let you sit down, you have to come on and shout
Everybody's singing, rejoicing and shouting
Nobody came here to sit down and pout.

LISTEN HEANH YOU PROPER TALKIN' SUCKER
AH'M SAYIN' ONE MORE TIME
EF YOU DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE
AH'M GON' KNOCK YOU FLAT DOWN.
AH AIN'T SHOUTIN' FOR NOBODY
AH AIN'T SHOUTIN' 'ROUND NO THRONE
AH AIN''T ACTIN' LAK NO WILD DOG
HOLLERIN' FUH A BONE
AH DON'T CARE EF THE THRONE IS MADE OF PURE GOLD
AH DON'T CARE EF MY WINGS WON'T UNFOLD
LAWD, EF AH CAN KEEP SETTIN' HEANH
DAT'S JES' WHAT AH'M GON' DO
SO YOU MIGHT AS WELL ACCEPT DE FACK
DAT EVALINA IS THROUGH
AH AIN'T SHOUTIN' FUH YOU AND NOBODY ELSE
EF YOU WANT ANY SHOUTIN' DONE, DO IT YO'SEF
AH'M GON' SET RAT HEANH ON DIS COMFORTABLE SEAT
SO EF AH WUZ YOU, LAWD, AH'D GIVE ME SOME ICE TEA
LET ME SET HEANH AND WATCH
GWONE, HAVE A GOOD TIME
EF YOU DO LAK AH TELL YOU
WE GETS 'LONG JES' FINE
BUT DEAR LAWD 'FO YOU GO
IT'S TO YOU AH GIVE MY PLEA
BRING ME A TUB O' HOT WATER
SO AH CAN SOAK DESE TIRED FEET
IT'S BEEN SO ROUGH GITTIN' UP HEANH
AH DESERVE A LITTLE TREAT
CAUSE LAWD, AH'M JES' SO TARD,
DEAR LAWD, AH'M SO BEAT.

Copyright © Carolyn Crawford | Year Posted 2015

Long Poems