Long Accidents Poems
Long Accidents Poems. Below are the most popular long Accidents by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Accidents poems by poem length and keyword.
At the dead-end street or cul-de-sac stands a tall silver lamp pole,
And a portable basketball hoop. I wish I could say there lives not a single soul.
What if the lamp pole sat on a game board on City property?
As fast as this little town is growing, we could play a game of monopoly.
A railroad track there was once, now a highway, and businesses
within a four-block radius causing dizziness.
Traffic so fast, there are a lot of accidents. If you cross the line,
watch where you turn, it’s your fault if you have the stop sign.
Ambulance wails and police sirens sound that drown
Your thoughts, almost all day long around town.
If you stand by the lamp pole, you’ll see them, go by.
You look up at the sky and pray; please don’t let them die.
I am only three houses down from that lamp pole
and highway when I take my dog out for a stroll.
11/9/2023
Before the bones of thought were raised,
before the first bright nerve could sing,
there slept between the coded words
a silent, patient everything.
They named them introns—idle script,
forgotten echoes, wasted space;
yet every age has mocked the seed
before it flowered into grace.
The sequencer became my star,
its lasers soft as morning rain;
through quantum whispers, folded time,
it mapped creation's hidden vein.
Each electron paused in dance,
each proton hummed a measured hymn;
the universe was reading us
while we believed we studied Him.
Within the so-called empty code
lay memories older than the sun—
the mathematics of the tide,
the blueprint of what we'll become.
Perhaps the psychic is no ghost,
nor miracle beyond our sight,
but consciousness unfolding still
through genomes learning how to write.
The mind may reach beyond the skull
as gravity escapes the star;
entangled thoughts on unseen threads
remember who and what we are.
So let the sequencer proceed—
not merely counting A, C, G, and T—
but listening for the cosmic verse
between necessity and song and verse.
For every strand we dare to read
reveals another left unseen;
and every answer gently asks
what all this hidden code may mean.
We are not accidents of dust,
nor prisoners of flesh alone;
we are the universe itself,
awakening within its chromosome.
The gods must be crazy to create such bad logic,
To validate suffering, pain and distress, they tick,
To allow their existence, ‘cos that’s what logic’s for,
Logic defines the systems and structures which soar.
They must be mad to claim bad weather, all year,
Intervention only points to their responsibility here,
Natural phenomena stands proud with autonomy,
In independence they have expression in taxonomy.
And those car accidents! Ah, how folks claim them,
As god’s doing, for the victim’s edification, ahem;
Joni Eareckson Tada thinks her diving accident divine,
And happened for a godly reason, for her to consign!
Christians are sour to equate a healthy man with god,
Rather than a woman who’s disabled and LBQT, odd,
Because worship should elevate up only when it should,
As it offsets a prejudice, imbalance or personality mood.
Or even a coloured person as god would be far better,
Than a white male that so permeates art and literature,
‘Cos the subliminal has such a strong, pervasive effect,
That some gods today should be dismissed as a defect.
Sally Smith and COVID
Sally Smith has lost her once radiant smile.
She won't even eat or traverse outside her door.
She was once cordial and had a joyous personal style,
Sally is so smitten with news about said virus, that I totally abhor.
People die everyday from accidents, and multiple fatal diseases.
But Sally is brainwashed by unfounded media fears they love to spread.
There are days I want to hug the fear out of her with multiple squeezes.
But there Sally is, lying in bed, counting cases,which,do not at all mean, dead.
Negative thinking to me is a choice, ruins your body, hastens an early death.
Sally keeps sanitizing with ferocity,everything she sees, removing her wedding ring,
She doesn't know anymore if she is alive or has any warm breath.
For Sally is but one of billions who think this pandemic is the plague and ever so proud of it, do daily, so erroneously sing!
June26,2020
9:30 am PST
Poem # 1,315
Edited
They can't kill me
Although many have tried
All disappointed by the results
When they discovered
I had survived
The Police and gangsters,
Mexican and Colombian
gangs
And even Drug Dealers I failed to pay
Ex-husbands of women, Ex-girlfriends that felt betrayed
Car accidents and a plane crash
But I walked away
I've lived through Earthquakes Hurricanes Volcanic eruptions
Even Tornadoes that caused devastating destruction
I've been bitten by Scorpions
a Brazilian Wandering Spider
A Rattlesnake and Jelly Fish
All painful reminders
Survived Prostate Cancer
A Sepsis Infection
causing a 30 day coma
Tuberculosis when I was just a kid
Two heart attacks and Double Pneumonia
Maybe now you'll understand
And may possibly believe
They can't kill me I'll never die
Due to my immortality
JSB
Scenario of Stressful life situational defamation of one's character, Car accidents
beyond one's control consecutively, unbalanced mind. Defilement and forcible
violation of one's body and soul, A firearm aimed toward one's head to inflict fear, explosive force against one's will.
Following homelessness, defamation of one's
character, loss of generations from Grandma,
coming after Father oncoming now Mother
loss of sentimental heartstrings shattered. No
one to have a heart to heart, to counsel, to ease one's anxieties, who to trust and one's likelihood. Mental illnesses you had a tight grip on one's powers of thoughts, as a result bad choices were made.
There is a story to tell
Perhaps one with yet the ending
Lessons were taught well
Yet did I remember the beginning?
To only have come a long way
From somewhere... nowhere
With never the end of days
Yet with time... have I to care?
A plot perhaps be a need
Yet of deception be well-received
A reason need I always seek?
Yet without answers must I believe
A well-planned road has its accidents
The best laid plans has its flaws
And of lessons to never really learn
Yet of life to always forgive to adore
There isn’t a story to tell
One of which to never have a beginning
Life to never know too well
My story with yet an ending
Been regarded as clumsy
For most of my long life,
An existence where accidents
Seemed more than usually rife.
The despair of the Drill Pig
Who, refusing to accept defeat
Finally instilled some precision
On my two largely left feet.
He never, sadly, ever managed
To sort out my dominant trick
The natural born ability to trip
Over any discarded match stick.
The only slight advantage being
I am here and still obviously alive
After so many clumsy incidents
Normal humans might not survive.
The typewriter keyboard, and later
That of my laptop or replacement PC
Remained a minefield of misspelling
To my indisciplined fingers and me.
The voice recognition programme
For a while brought some hope
But I spoke in East Riding and
They just couldn’t always cope
Happily settled in retirement
Accepting of my situation
When a casual conversation
Helped explain my situation.
Born when things were seen
In Black and gleaming white
It was never ever considered that
My incoordination just might
Be a mental condition
A slight disability
That took away from me
Some natural ability.
They called it Dyspraxia.
The clumsy oaf no more
A slight impairment that
I can now happily ignore.
When spellcheck on my PC
Just gives up in despair
I find that I can no longer
Be bothered to really care.
Typos are included and
If I miss them when I check
That’s my style of writings.
And I couldn’t give a heck.
Everyone
enjoys to take
a ride or just
to go for a leisure stride.
Long winding road
Wide and free
or a narrow
straight route
Lure to the eye and for a try
promising pile of trees
on pied each a natural
beauty pride. Lights...
Signals on both sides
Providing travelers a guide
Keeping them always
on safe side... Our
BREATH of LIFE is like a ROAD
Each passing night and day
there's a heavy or light load
Sometimes a mystery
with a puzzle code
Each one efforts
careful to decode
Thanks, THERE IS GOD
that abides... ALWAYS THERE
NEVER ON UNDISCOVERABLE HIDE
Through all blessings
and trials tide. Bumps
and accidents slowing
Even stopping the glide
Problems buffering
life's tide... Ethics,
justice and society snide
they may equal to a lie
Whatever comes
however things maybe
Don't stop; Keep going. Even on a
Dark cocoon... KEEP BELIEVING! KEEP WIN-
NING! a road like never ending until it reaches
a happening may it be a grand or simple celebration of life
what is essential... YOU PASSED EACH WAY LIKE IT'S YOUR LAST
LIKE - IT - IS - YOUR- LAST NOT SAVING THE BEST FOR LAST.. so I never stopped..
Despite heartaches.. Hardships I went through.. I hold on..I keep moving.. Growing..loving.. For at the end of this road there - face to face at last with my Creator.
(C) olive_eloi
10:29am
REVISED: MAY 05, 2014
-------------------»»»»
Contest: Just down the road
Sponsor: Kelly Dreschler
3rd Place.. Praise GOd.. :D
This family I was born in was assigned to destroyed my life
I presently can't rent an apartment, be sheltered or work
So many lies has been told to keep me from prospering
Identity theft, fraud, forgery, false reports, and statements
PPP loan was collected, purchase of a Dodge Durango
I was involuntary and falsely institutionalized 10-31-20
Crimes committed in my name by strangers and family
A specific doctor was injecting me with poison
Attempts of murder on my life in many forms ie..
Motor accidents, hitmen, poisons, prescriptions, and
False diagnoses of Cancer twice; got me to cut off my breasts
Staged funeral to collect a false life insurance claim
Members of law enforcement, judicial, insurance agents
Bank and medical institutions, funeral directors, utility, military
United States Postal Services, masonic and eastern star cults
International criminals exploited women through HA programs
Catholic Non-Profit Humanitarians used homeless drug addicts and
prostitutes to gang stalk me hacked and traced all my devices
I have been followed and tracked my whole life. Fallen Angel System
I have been homeless since August 2023; no criminal records
No drug use, no affiliation to criminal social circles/ covens
No one will rent to me; the system or the narrative of my reputation
This system has came up against me all my life as I recollect
It has used vessels to ruin my character and my reputation
Those living with illusion of scarcity will do anything for money
AI/CGI was used to put me in places with people I never been
Strangers took pictures of me as they stalked me
They run me off jobs or can't get hire for any corporation
I'm not able to promote my art(paintings) to make a living
It's not appreciated that I was born to see through the illusions
People(Vessels), places, and things of a system that is leading
and deceiving this world of humanity down a history repeating
path of destruction of this Earth.
I am still surviving despite of everything that is happening!
I am innocent.