Long 9th grade Poems
Long 9th grade Poems. Below are the most popular long 9th grade by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long 9th grade poems by poem length and keyword.
I trusted the circle I called my own,
But shadows revealed where betrayal had grown.
A love I believed in turned into a thief,
A million was stolen, my name dragged in grief.
They thought they had buried the fire in me,
But pain is a teacher, and pain sets you free.
From ashes of loss, I’ve chosen my way,
To rise even stronger with each passing day.
I pivoted paths, let the old chapter close,
From fintech’s hard lessons to new seeds I chose.
Occupational safety, with purpose I stand,
Training, rebuilding, with strength in my hand.
For setbacks are whispers, not endings, but calls,
To rise from the ruins, to dance through the falls.
I am not discouraged, my spirit won’t bend,
Each loss is a lesson, not the story’s end.
Facebook advert
I saw an advert
for teeth
a couple had winning smiles
I thought they must be American
thinking of Joe Biden's
dentures, make him look like
an elderly shark
Cesar Milan, the dog man
is a showman but appears
to be good at taming dogs
his gnashers are impressive
In my vanity and some of my teeth
had left in protest
I went to a dentist, asked for
new teeth so I could display
a happy countenance
my god, the price to afford the price
one has to be a dog person
or a presidential candidate
A man who is not a dentist but makes
falls teeth for dentists
offered to make teeth I could put
on top of my old teeth
thinking this was a bit of a mouthful
I turned him down
since I'm not a person who spends
time smiling a lot
I decided to stick with my old teeth
While constipation kept me in arrears,
asper daily writing,
thus ordinarily straight forward
practiced process culling material,
(a daily endeavor generally mastered
by your truly), this moment bares
with more difficulty, thus derriere's
functionality created backlog
(of personal business),
hence presenting literary chops,
a real bummer today,
disgruntlement with Fanny Pack,
(which gripe flares
cheeks) pitted me considerably
behind schedule, so...here's
the scoop (hoop fully solid explanation
for my absence) amidst
virtual chattering class
otherwise known as Face booking,
Instagramming, and Whatsapp
pin with ma Jeers
zee Boyz'n the hood,
ah...also dem "Back Street Boys"
oh mother f***er...,
I just learned day got eliminated
and blocked, (cuz o' their wiped out,
wasted, sunken,
flushed, dumpy untidily
bowled over appearances),
Sergeant Scott Coreless forced their
evacuation citing Lumineers
as more ass toot,
hence the emcee then welcomed,
opening dreck "Johnny On The Spot,"
and the "The Proctologists,"
who performed before nares
Naked Lady sighted spectators, with
lovers spooning within cheeky pairs
otherwise, essentially a pooped out crowd
sitting on their haunches,
while myself perched
some distance away
with my comfortably numb tuckus
atop the porcelain Goddess
a awaiting emetic to expel
for iCloud to finish updating
before continuing with sign out...
from this Macbook Pro,
which aye sheepishly pro state
as the long winded soup peer
re: or (flatulence riddled) explanation.
His Star, still... Glows Bright! Amen.
Tis...that...time of year
when thoughts...
turn to Celestial...things
when...amid visions of centuries past
Hope is gathered and...rings!
Tis that time of year
when hearts...
ensue a glance of imperishable...gates
with the reminders of a Silent Night
so received with gratitude...sate!
Tis when...
the Joy and anticipation of celebrating
a prophesied birth...
touches here and there
and begins to seep throughout the earth
When Peace...
like a warm blanket...
is a 'Presence' that surely can be felt
drawing those so far away...near
recalling...shepherds and kings that knelt!
Tis...
when the...Love...which gives the reason
to embrace the marvelous season...glares
and is acknowledged...miraculously...
filling...the air!
Yes! indeed, it is here...
Tis that...Wondrous...Time of year!
ISAIAH 7:14 & 9:6
copyright: jmsbell-11/29/2017
He died for freedom and the righteous cause of liberty.
He gave up his own life so others could enjoy liberty.
"OOH What a lucky man he was. OOH What a lucky man
he was.....Nobody could save him so he laid down and he died."***
The Short Story.*** "Oh What a Lucky Man he was."***
He died alone with no freedom fighters at his side. He fought
against slavery and oppression and to help liberate his fellow man.
But he was just another human, and an ordinary man. He was not
a professional solder or a police man. He witnessed danger around
him so he sacrificed his life for his fellow woman.
He died in an dark and dangerous ally way, trying the save
the life and the virtue of a young woman. Vicious hoodlums
instantly attacked and knifed him. The earth cried out in pain,
as it received the life blood of a young and noble man. Their
attackers also murdered the young woman, after robbing her
of her virtue!
A few days later their bodies were discovered by the police women and
the police man. He was given a hero's funeral for the courageous way
he died. He wasn't a pillar of the community, he was not important nor
gainfully employed. If the facts be made known, he was unemployed.
He never held a job in his entire young life. He was a drifter and a loner.
He lived and died a John Doe and she also lived and died as a Jane Doe. They enjoyed their fifteen minutes of fame upon their untimely demise. The law enforcement community and the family of the young woman mourned
their wasted young lives! The hoodlums were apprehended by the law.
But they did not repent of their dastardliness deeds. They held no remorse
at all. How many other victims' did they stab with their knives?
Love as always,
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
October 05, 2020
***This is a fictional short story.
The bonfire warms me at first, but swiftly turns from nurturing and loving
to raging, and venomously hungry. She is giving off a vicious, angry vibe in seconds.
From gentle to formidable. I watch her moods change as swiftly as her colors.
She makes loud, popping, cracking noises. I watch boxes implode into her, she smiles, feeling her power.
I move my chair back a bit, as her heat is reaching farther with each pop and crack.
She changes her clothing rapidly; from orange to black, to grey, to orange-black, and grey again.
I pile on extra wood and cardboard, and her seductive dance begins anew. She is swaying and
sashaying with the pops and the cracks. She dances high now, leaping, popping. I feed her another branch.
Her thickest logs are starting to smoke on the ends. This surprises me, I did not think she could develop
so quickly.
Fire always surprises me. Never the same, always her own unique dances.
She is falling into herself now, quiet-like and docile. Her raging appears to be over.
She is settling into her gray basement.
I throw a few pieces of cardboard on her, and she darts forth like a rocket, with pure joy, bright orange.
The dance begins again.
My pyromania heart is satisfied at last when we see her creeping stealthily out of her confined fire pit, sneaking toward a pile of leaves, understanding her intention to set the entire forest ablaze.
My thinking brain goes after her with a rake, before my pyromania heart realizes what has happened.
Because pyro loves fire.
The Urban Blight.
I returned tired from an outing.
Everything was around uneasily, misery, and exceeding.
The silence overwhelmed me.
The wounds got comfortable in my heart plea.
The difficulties wore me out.
Also, the surprise bolsters over the cry of doubt.
My pulse comes back at that point.
Who would have helped me to slack?
In my spirit, I converse.
We are searching for outstanding merit.
I request for this to resound all over again.
Besides, I realize I haven't lost any labor.
But maybe I missed the ending.
I confer from the beginning.
With my mighty deep angel.
From the birth that portrays me.
I can’t contain my glee.
What's above, and no spies.
Only letters were made of pain and cries.
With truthful Subtleties portrayed.
In public places, to no avail.
In the County at High Level.
Oh, the deceptive sound.
Only accept that you barred your shield.
And you look for such a form of survival.
Acquisition of fish from the oceans
Quit feeling worried.
Resting well above mists, Withstand.
Also, you'll attain a lift in the early morning.
Above anyone's side
A plane as Well, as a gun.
Then again, a ton of hands.
I am cheering for your grip forward.
Often, overcrowding of folds.
People started to fade under the crowds.
The ancient world ruined itself.
Just analogous to the beam mist of Pharaoh.
Birds have fled from its towers.
We were sitting close to spring flowers.
The stars are scattered as well.
To expose an illegal entry.
The Deserted Pathway
Neediness, always,
Additionally, greediness
Often, the darkness.
Thank you for my gratitude
I think of all the things you do
I think of all the things I have
I think of all the things I am
I am grateful for every time I’m sad
I am thankful for all the things, even the bad
Happy to have things that make me glad
Glad to have the things that make me mad
The fall, the leaves
All the colors within the trees
The rainy storms
That aren’t as warm
The peace paired with the chaos
Silence amongst the sound
Growth in every struggle
All the things that make this world go round
For all the wonderful opportunities
Leaving heartfelt memories
All of the beautiful families
The unity found in our diversities
I am thankful for my rage and hate
For all of my pain coursing through my veins
The anxious wreck sprouting from my worry
My nervous response that makes me scurry
All the bad that steers me to insanity
Because with all the toxicity and insecurities
That stems from somewhere deep within me
Creates all of my beauties
My resilience, my confidence
And all of my bravery
It is what makes me strong
It is how I find my positivity
I am grateful for every experience
Even the worst ones to have ever had
That is what shapes who I am
And who I have yet to become
So bring on every obstacle you can
Because I will conquer and embrace
Not a single one I’d want to erase
I will accept and learn from every mistake
And no matter what I will not break
Because I look at the life I have today
I see how far I have come since yesterday
I look at all the things I’ve got going for me
And realize I wouldn’t want it any other way
There is not a single thing I wish to change
Because I love everything about today
And that's not possible without all of my yesterdays
Thee Apple Hove Bing an Herbivore...?
(hint – app peal)
Sans maintaining a strict carb on diet
(for Peat Sake) iz like really coal
man, cuz carnivores consume meat,
which genetically modified organisms
engender incredible non edible size foal,
these agribusiness farmed animals shot up
with synthetic hormones
spurring heightened development
accidentally, inadvertently, and unleashing
King Kong monstrous outrageous gnoll,
whereat each footfall taken
by scary creature resembling
a humanoid hyena
results in said frankenfood digging,
one after another humungous hole
resulting in dirt pile
cresting, kickstarting, and
rivaling a mini
spring mount tin knoll
necessitating massive
manhunt to cap cha
lurching, pounding, and thudding
beast whereat entire
motley crue all harkened
from places named Lowell,
nonetheless heil lee calf full
to arm themselves with more'n one
tranquilized tipped pole
anachronistic cautionary expedition generating
masterfully baiting monster
with immense gritty buttered roll,
whose gargantuan ramp
aging spree across
world wide web
found endangered population
tuff lee from their
picturesque enclave i.e. Floss
on the Mill as zee unbridled
quasi jabberwocky took a selfie gloss
silly attired (trumpeting
"FAKE" ska don face mask)
likening pulling up moss
as coiffed "hair...hm..." all the while
gabbling, instagramming,
snapchatting, and toss
sing fearsome Frankenstein
with especial bent toward
those sharing surname Voss
in tandem to flagrant
disregard to paradigm
housing hefty prime
statutes of grammatically
correct syntactical rhetoric, plus rhyme
ming showcasing a novel
discovered talent to enrich pantheon
until the end of time.
since times of auld
where linkedin note able people
(some long haired others bald)
plaintively, suddenly, and called
urgently to be importantly installed
to brainstorm figuring a solution
to vanquish, nightmarish,
and hellish abominable madness!
She was set up on a bind date with a nontalking beast.
He was clever but she did not know this in the least.
They walked in silence to a party where she knew the host.
Oh! You brought a black cat! Said the curious ghost.
He is my date, she told the ghost with a flourish.
His name is Salamander, and he is rather boorish.
She said this in a whisper for she did have a tiny heart.
They danced the macarena and he let out a big fart.
He is gassy! She whispered to a mummy named Ed.
So what? Ed whispered back. I am smelly and dead.
He had a point, so she decided to relax and have fun.
And spoil alert for their dates, this was not their only one.