Long 94 Poems
Long 94 Poems. Below are the most popular long 94 by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long 94 poems by poem length and keyword.
Econo Lodge sign
High
On
Its
Pylon
Best we can do
For you Tedeschi Trucks
To put a moon in the sky
Over this interstate interchange
Jammed with cars and a decrepit minor league hockey stadium
Advertising the glory days and beer swigging of The Wings
Glows over the deadbeat semis and construction cones
Tearing apart I-94 between Chicago and Detroit
Gleaming casino next city over
Mocking us all by suggesting
I’ll see you over here
The last great guitar players and their dwindling fans
In just a few more years
Yes it’s 2024
And for good our children have left the house
Its couches beds and kitchen table chairs
Like unstraightened frames holding all our wall photographs
Our dog doesn’t mind
Wags his tail with the additional luxury choices
For his many daytime naps
My wife and I look for familiar friends
Though we understand the band are total strangers
During these glorious last 14 years together with us
We don’t want to be creeps to Derek and Susan in love on stage
Though we were the first to love them both up there
I give a hearty wave anyway from the front seats
And I think through the spotlights there’s a smile or wink returned to us
The silhouettes
As the two and their band watch one another
Still mesmerized as they saw and sing the epic Shame
And we the audience smash our hands and shake our tambourine heads
How can the whole world not know more
About this travelling family of musical magic?
We know in our minds they’re the best band in the world
On the scale of Zeppelin or the Stones in their prime
But in the now
And here they are
Still looking good and cool and willing to share something better
Kind enough to stop over
Say hello
Between Red Rocks and Milwaukee
To this little rustbelt university town
Stadium filled only three quarters of the way with 4000 people
I’m sure a sop financially for somebody
But the masterful musicianship we joyfully hear
And we respond with whistles and cheers
As good as anyplace
As loud as ever
Afterward
Outdoors
The Econo Lodge moon buzzes and blinks in our rearview mirror
For our long drive home on I-94
Back to Lansing we go
Chasing breadcrumbs the dotted lines
Our hearts filled our ears ringing
Through the quiet speeding dark.
Russia is now in the Middle East as earthquakes dramatically increase
A couple signs of the beast but in these times such signs don't cease
As the twelves tribes of Israel return with anti-Semitism on the rise
Many of the things you will learn may also come as a real surprise
As in Revelation seventeen four, she dressed in Purple and Scarlet
This is what Cardinals and Bishops wore in being called this harlot
The euro-roman empire is back and many rumors of war, and war
The Red Moons were right on track, as man is wicked to his core
The Euphrates will run dry, a new 16 dam project just completed
For this China and Russia will via as a deal will save the defeated
But it's the Almighty's Israel this Army will be God drawn to take
Not sure exactly what Seal but that is going to be a big mistake
Earth itself has begun to convulse as man has stripped her bare
And if you still have a pulse of these events you must be aware
A forced Israeli land deal for peace as from Judea they will flee
No longer will God they fleece or else as we are all about to see
Matthew 24:36
But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no,
not the angels of heaven, but my Father only.
Russia/Rosh- Gog Magog war 9-11-15
Jews increasingly return to Israel worldwide
St. Malachy predicted 112 popes, this is 112
The euro is the old Roman Empire
Red Moons 1493, 1948 rebirth of Israel
1967 the 6 day war Jerusalem now Israel's, and 2014
Signs in the Heavens God's Billboards
200,000,000 man army crosses dry Euphrates
Turkey just finished that dam 6 months ago
Earthquakes over 6.0 increase 10 fold since 2000
Google disasters in the U.S after ruling against Israel( it's not good)
The warnings/Shemitah years 1973, 80, 87, 94 2001, 2008,
2015 9-11 Russian goes into Middle East(Syria)
For I believe the final process of His Judgement may have begun
We are no Nineveh, we haven't repented but become worse!
Technology/ increase in knowledge
Popo Leo's Vision 1884....I need more time and power
The cell phone, he's in EVERYONES pocket(power)
I could go, but time is short
Not meant to scare, but awaken. He is a Loving and Merciful God,
And His Kingdom will have no end. Call upon His Name
For even the elite shall be fooled in the last days
Behold Beatrice, Pitcairn
the paradise sunsets lie in Tahiti
sunrise, the folly of Easter
islands, sanitoriums, deluded, denuded
limbos and purgatories, the never evermore
Polynesian metaphors transmigrate my mind
O to graze with the deer, dear
the tree never falls silently
lizards scatter, birds scurry to flight
i could never buy into falling silence
let alone fate of Galileo's descending weights
church theologians preferring an atheist Aristhrottle
forgive me for being sententious dear
no pity for Cyrano
the hidden Darcy
in another failed Benedick in port
without Dante's delusions
love with no embrace
Service, woman, a slightly tainted saint
Tennyson's wound that never heals
Petrarch, Augustine, it grows insane
ah the vicissitudes, where was i
yes, leaving metaphors and literate men
your laughter starts in those ignescent eyes
ignition, brush fires of rippling ballerinas
facial muscles lost in abandonment
to some elfish music i see, never hear
lips widening, bursting rubaiyat pandemonium
i adore your infectious risibility
it is your amatory smile i love most
demure, candles gamboling in the moonlight
i am a moth lost in the flames
of your demanding timidity
it is then i see in your eyes
the dove gracing your hands
the beast who serves your lust
this is why the Norsemen
fear nothing but women
swords once ready, berserkers, Odin
now lie silent volcanoes in my heart, Freya
the seas are without headstones
and i am wondering again terricolous
all of this are the clouds overhead
it is the heavens i see in your eyes
not the red dawn i fear
we see the jungle, its' song, inevitable war
the struggle to stand in the light
possibly besotted, erratum
the seas have long not cared
with you, i learn, heal
we are undeniably humanity
we are paradise lost
the hells of yesterday
need not rule the heavens of today
your arms gravid with red sunsets
fill my deepest hopes of all morrows
its' ultimate price is gladly paid
Miramar 94 The Patient Stones
Revised 5/22 OKC
see on Youtube
Shakespeare's Sonnet 116 Is Not What It Seems
there are certain words in here common in 19th Century literature that always remind me....besotted with Jane Austen
"Line of inquiry: given that we are a soul having a human experience, reincarnating life after life and that too with memory of past lives erased each time we take birth, what is the purpose of this exercise?"
Sponsor - Unseeking Seeker
Often have I pondered this question.
Still, I don’t really know.
Is it merely to populate the earth?
We are not protecting or even feeding the population we have,
This cannot be the reason.
Some believe that our succession of lives, enables us to be better with each new life.
We cannot remember our last life, so how can we learn from it?
This can’t be the reason.
Maybe its to ensure progress on this earth.
So, we can each be instrumental in the progression of mankind,
With Inventions, discoveries, breakthroughs in medicine, science, engineering, and commerce.
However, it is only a few that achieve such accomplishments.
So that does not explain why we all get a chance of reincarnation.
Another conundrum I have is if I am a Republican in one life, will I come back as a Democrat in the next? If I am a male chauvinist, will I come back as a woman and if I am a racist, will I come back in a minority class? Are we here merely to equal the scales?
My next ponderance is this: If there are 8 billion people on earth today, there won’t be enough people from past lives to replace all 8 billion, because there were not 8 billion people last year.
New people must be created to make up the numbers.
If not the population would never increase.
I am afraid I have not answered my own questions.
One thing I do know is why I am here in this life.
I am here to have nurtured my parents in their old age.
Their combined age made the 94 years that they were older than me at the time of my birth.
I am here to have loved a man in marriage for 52 years and with him raised three wonderful human beings.
I am here to have friends and family I care about.
I am here to give thanks to my Incredible Maker Who has given me strength and fortitude to overcome evil and to be joyous in the wonders life has afforded me.
I am just one of the 8 billion, and I do know why I am here this time.
Some numbers tumble down the hallowed halls of baseball’s past -
a sport of numbers after all, these memories hold fast.
Stan Musial wore #6, Lou Gehrig, #4;
the “luckiest man in all the earth”, great player AND much more.
McCovey, Reggie – 44, Hank Aaron wore it too.
Remember those World Series gems? Koufax wore 32.
My favorite: “Say Hey” Willie Mays wore #24;
he’s famous for “The Catch” and yes, that childlike smile he wore.
Ted Williams: .406 - .394 for Tony Gwynn,
if ’94 had known no strike, who knows what might have been?
5,714 K’s Ryan amassed,
plus Nolan’s 7 no-hitters: neither will be surpassed.
“Records are made to be broken”, but THIS one never shall:
2,632 consecutive games for Cal.
1947 – Jackie Robinson’s big year,
He broke the color barrier and had a great career.
Roger Maris – 61* in ’61, but wait…
it seems some other cheaters passed him up in ’98.
I don’t consider some worthy to mention by their name –
Their steroids sadly stained the reputation of the game.
Some other numbers come to mind: Babe Ruth’s 714
Hack Wilson’s RBI’s – 191, obscene!
There’s Rickey Henderson’s 130 steals, divine!
Dimaggio’s streak of 56; Hershiser’s 59.
But if a sacred record falls, we oughtn’t be perplexed,
The game’s baton is passed – one generation to the next.
Now Aaron Judge wears 99 – I think he wears it well,
Bryce Harper’s #3 will shine, as far as I can tell.
Young Bellinger wears 35, Mike Trout sports 27,
And Albert Pujols, #5 – their swings, pure baseball heaven.
Today is baseball’s Opening Day, a LONG-awaited season.
What new numbers might come in play - aligning rhyme with reason?
The stands will all be empty though, as COVID keeps us home –
The closest I could come to being there is write this poem.
These numbers represent some well-loved gamers known for winning;
Even the Good Book recognizes them: “In the Big Inning”!
* - Maris passed Babe Ruth’s record of 60 HRs in a season, but it was a longer season, so the commissioner issued an edict that an asterisk be placed in the record books to annotate a ‘tainted’ new record. Billy Crystal made a brilliant movie about that, calling it 61*
“I never travel without my diary,
One should have something sensational to read”
5-4-11: I never knew about the above quote of Wilde
But an event in life taught me to keep one.
4-23-94: Let me start with the initial jotting
A local doctor said it’s just cough, a thing seasonal
5-5-94: No cure, consulted again after two weeks
Advised to consult an ENT specialist attached to
A Medical College Hospital.
5-8-94: Diagnosed cancer of the vocal chords
5-10-94: But preferred to have a second opinion
Confirmed the first opinion and advised radiation.
The word spread in the University Campus town
In the Bohemians circle that a Wicket (Cricket) down
Heard from many mouths the fate of the tobacco chewer.
5-15-94: A friend of my son came to see me on hearing the news
He had the disease of the same type and category 10 years back
He took the radiation and there he was a positive case.
7-4-94: Started the radiation therapy of six weeks
Resigning 4 months earlier than the regular retirement.
Along with the radiation started the nature cure therapy
And the greatest of all therapies, the rosary with HIS name.
8-12-94 the radiation machine, only one in my State went off
Consulted the Cancer Hospital at Mumbai
Got the reply appointment after six months.
8-22-94: Luckily the treatment restarted after 10 days
9-2-94: And completed the radiation course.
12-5-94: Retested and was declared cancer free.
Thus the history of trials, tribulations, tests and tobacco taste.
5-4-11: The habit is still with me even to-day.
Oh, the digit 5 could be a lucky number for me.
******************
*The dates and events taken from my diary are real*. I have written
two poems on the event
1. What Gods there were
2. Butterfly Counts not months but moments.
Thanks, Constance, for sensational refreshing of my memories.
Dr. Ram Mehta
==============================================
Second place win in :
Contest: The Diary sponsored by Constance La France-A Rambling poet
One or two dead sheep lay by the road.
We saw a hairpin bend signed 'Beware of
Blind People Crossing' as we drove from Dublin,
West to Connemara's wild Atlantic shores
To black rock crags patched white between with
Coral sand, backed by bog the other side of the
Deserted coastal R341 and a cottage
Between Ballyconeely and the Mannin Bay Blueway.
Farmers parked their Morris Minors
Where the river flowed half a metre deep
Across the road though we had no choice but
To go through with water lapping to the doors
As our engine choked and stuttered.
There was not a thing on bare shop shelves
Save what the tide and storms brought in,
Or so it seemed. Just a single skate wing
In a solitary wooden box stood centre
On a warehouse floor, as though awaiting
Bomb disposal, far from the great shutter door
Opened for us when we called for something
For our supper. The weather was the worst in living Memory. "'Tis wild, 'tis wild," the shepherd said,
Nothing more, driving him from his hitch-hike
To the nearest village pub
Where, with two halves of Guinness down for us,
He retired to a corner table to drink alone across
The room in an empty bar. Cottage number 94
Was dark and damp. We had dragged the sofa
Out to try and warm and dry on the only fine
Afternoon when a sheepdog came by and into the Compound, low walled with broken breeze block
Placed to mark the cottage ground.
He beckoned us to follow him way back into the bog.
It seemed he had a mission and so we went
Along a mile or two at pace until he turned tail at
No particular point on the path and disappearing
From our view left us alone and panting.
A hotel waitress took pity on us at our only
Venture out to lunch. "Would we be wanting
Another lobster ? - its on the house," she said.
They had boiled too many for the service.
Could she tell we were on our honeymoon?
To be sure, still awkward, shy and out of place in Galway's wildest weather and Atlantic autumn storms.
,We the nation that survived
discrimination building a
civilization brand new evolution
94 new birth welcome to earth
You fought for our freedom 27
years in prison coz u had a
vision of a united nation
without the separation or
discrimination of race now we
able to embrace with ur grace
and u deserve to be praised
wasn't easy for u for the
things u went threw I can't
rem the time or what u do but
I rem u say that its all for u
,the pillar of the country
strength of the nation
accusation that they convicted
u were innocent in a situation
a united nation what u fought
for peace to the core is what u
are u blead for the dead even
thou ur bed was a concrete
slab they made u sleep on
the floor till u cudnt take no
more watching as the waves
clashed the shore in robbin
island u never hated or
retaliated u took it in smile
always kept ur head up and
moved forward till 1994 u rose
up from floor opened a new
door to the fellow sA brand
new leader 1st black president
who was her to represent the
entire human race with a
smile and embrace the
greatest leader ever lived I
wonder if u ever had doubt if
u thought u ever be the
greatest profecy and a ever
lasting legacy I can't imagine
what they put u threw since
they didn't have a clue what u
were trying to do and u saved
our life from sacrafice 94
years olD and u still going
strong I wana be like u but I
can do what u did so we tAke
our hats off to be proud to be
a south african and living with
a hero like u and u nelson
mandela we praise u we follow
u we love you for what u went
threw what u did do and u
knew we would be free some
day and we pay that u stay in
our hearts forever and wen
we think abt the stormy
weather we realise to the
point of suprize its a picture
perfect moment at this very
moment this song is to remind
the fellow sa that u made it
possible a strong man with a
plan who took a stan and I'm
ur num 1 fan mr mandela
II
You had said when I kidded you? After all I'm not going to be far away? Now you are put to rest?In a place dug and slabbed for you alone As if you were not going to rest for good ?with all the others?
It is a place to a side in the pebble-strewn sidewalk ?against the wall ?your feet to the east ?all the other feet to the south ?As of a general standing to a salute from his army
There was no sight of you ?The golden chocolatish-pink of your casket ?made more glittering the cross? I couldn't guess if you would have wanted the Church's ornament then the feeling of being out-of-place? thoughts of you in a cloud
We talked in suppressed tones? about you of you ?trying to be polite and succeeding among uneasy fellows? here and there some unwanted details slipped in through nervousness ?yet none felt your hand tremble on the racket
You were the master of the court ?as now you mastered your going by the low sleek slate-grained marble? in sharply polished angular correctness ?amidst shy upright cypresses and neatly cut passage ways of chipped stone
We sprinkled your tomb with Church water ?Neither rain nor snow you remember could keep you from finishing your game? Already as we turned in a column the voices now louder in the distance? They were arranging the roughly hewn stone slabs ?before the marble thickened your bed
You may at last be at rest ?with no one to challenge you to a test of strength? your referee's whistle holding its un-disputable silence
You came with the spring ?Now you go in cheery spring ?Your sollicitous voice still lingers in our courts ?You knew us all by name and style at play ?long before we met under your critical gaze
(Jean Franco, born in Morocco of Spanish stock, was an Income Tax Inspector and in his spare-time an International Soccer Referee for France. We often played tennis at the Tennis Club in Fresnes-94.)
©T.Wignesan 1992 April 21, 1992 - [from the collection: back to background material, 1993]
ever hear those obnoxious individuals claim that a lot of
people killing themselves around the
“holidays” is a myth?
ever see them walk with self-righteousness
as if they shouldn’t be bothered with the very idea that others in this world
might not share their abundant joy
when it comes to the genocide of native-americans or
the “birth” of a fictional character?
isn’t it ironic that what can be claimed as a myth so quickly is
directly a result of worshipping two?
cut to manatee county, fl,
where only hours ago
a man whose name has yet to been released
killed his girlfriend,
knocked on the neighbor’s door to tell them what he’d done &
then pulled the trigger on himself---
details will come.
then there’s scott degraff, a nightclub owner in vegas
who owed a guy in NYC $4 million---
he locked himself in somebody else’s garage
in aspen, co
& let the
carbon monoxide flow---
dead at 8am, thanksgiving morn.
and was there anyone there for the unnamed woman of 32
who after writing her note & leaving it in her mercury SUV,
ran into the oncoming lane on interstate 80/94 in indiana?
while the first semi missed her, a second one hit her head on---
that was around 1:15 pm---she died a short time later in a
hospital in munster.
not to mention mr. luther bolen, 55,
an inmate at the arkansas dept. of community correction
who hung himself with a sheet from a shower rod on wednesday &
subsequently died sometime on thanksgiving in a
texarkana hospital---he was due to be out in
january.
for the holiday suicides, coverage in the press might not always occur---
they may not pop up for days, weeks, months,
but people who claim that “the majority of people”
don’t do anything rash due to the overwhelming loneliness
that comes from this time of year for some
need to appreciate that they themselves are not in that place
a much deeper & darker place that cannot be imagined by
statistics or zombie smiles & jingling purses on
black friday.