Long Accounted Poems
Long Accounted Poems. Below are the most popular long Accounted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Accounted poems by poem length and keyword.
Population patterns in history line
A fold
That general Assembly
Has no peaceful minds hiding
Just as just a study
A must I interfere?
That's a head count happened.
Poor man's oath to wait it out and relay.
A 2 nd parallel beneath the 1st?
Since February of 2025 after the delay
for stated move in dates prior to Jan thru August 2024
Obstructing legislations passage in
California homekey qualifies a minimum
6 months of evidence in the willful
collection of bribes by employed Californians.
Rules as laws in reading legal headlines
defined by regulation of Republican policy shift
This shift in labor policy counters
Trial and error of time under Democratic policy
Zero Budget exists for grants of yesterday or salary
Suggested
No department transfers prepared
Then bribery is accounted for as precaution
To statement
Fact in science of math and letters from history
Let it be noted in speculation laws preventing
speculation that following private citizens
rights and manners is evidence against
When your wrong
You may not correct the truth
Not for me the modern way to embrace,
Everything and everybody,
Using lip service to deliver,
To recipients never met,
From cultures unknown.
Not for me the modern way to embrace,
That is not heartfelt,
Is born out of fear,
Pretends to be sympathetic,
Yet can never be termed a hug,
With eyes producing only crocodile tears
Ears only hearing recorded messages,
From a politically correct source.
Not for me the modern way to embrace,
That is cruel and unfeeling,
Requiring me to always wear a mask,
With a politically correct phrase app downloaded on my phone,
Carrying my hand sanitizing lotion with me wherever I go.
Not for me the modern way to embrace,
That makes me want to puke,
As I think of all those nukes not accounted for,
Should the embrace ever be rebuked,
Not for me the modern way to embrace,
That is bereft of meaning,
Fosters no understanding,
Is not born out of a need for change,
Is not intended to right past wrongs.
Not for me the modern way to embrace,
I wasn't born with a forked tongue,
Still have a sympathetic ear,
Was taught to solve problems, not create them,
My mask was handed to me by the lone ranger,
I dress according to the weather,
I deliver messages personally,
That are heartfelt,
Through facial expressions that are real.
My only fault,
I will never embrace everything and everybody,
At the cost of self,
I will however give an old-fashioned hug,
That says I care that you are are in pain,
And offer you my umbrella should it start to rain.
They were accounted for,
officially dead at least,
but the sickening fact was
that large numbers of the dead
had gone missing.
Occasionally, still pinging cellphones
were found in Hades, Purgatory, and
other Bardo states.
Olympus was still drunkenly silent,
as were almost all of the seven heavens.
In nirvana,
the footwear of some of the deceased,
had been left in a pile awaiting a divine fire.
The missing had presumably
transported themselves
to some less boneheaded ideas
of the afterlife.
Eventually, God pronounced.
“Right” he said, “right, okay,
this is a sales glitch really. We’re just not
packaging death attractively enough”.
However the missing dead never returned,
having found their own way
out of all that craziness.
Diverse race, religion, sex, gender, caste and creed We are,
Despite that, We have come together so far.
Every God tells us to live alongside,
Yet We let even the minute difference push us away from each other wide.
Chasing power and not harmony,
We have not yet learnt from the lessons taught to us by Germany.
In killing and terrorizing some nations take pride,
The blood keeps flowing but has never dried.
Our silence is the cause of suffering,
Yet We are engrossed in our phones despite our minds buffering.
We are like a beautiful bird with different colours of feather,
Why can’t We keep aside the differences and come together?
Wars and bloodshed must cease,
If not, will our children know the meaning of peace?
Every life on this planet is worth and must not be played with like a toy,
We aspire to cry together basking in the tears of joy.
Every atrocity will be, by Him, accounted for,
Humanity can only win by losing the war.
Life is a cycle of joys and sorrows
Ups and downs come and go, sometimes high, sometimes low
Use your todays, don't think of tomorrows
Failure is the stepping stone to success
A win requires hard work, something we cannot shirk
Challenges are needed to make progress
A leopard cannot change his dotted spots
Can't straighten a dog's tail, try it, you're bound to fail
The speed of a ship is measured in knots
There is no taste in the white of an egg
Can't get taste without salt, for pickles it's default
Love and trust must be earned, you cannot beg
No one can number the stars in the sky
The sand can't be counted, the rain not accounted
Lightning can't be controlled by human eye
No man can stop the bottles of heaven
Clouds you can't number, or change winter to summer
Can't give food to the young ones of raven
God has deprived the ostrich of wisdom
Her eggs she does not guard, her heart does become hard
She's cruel, but that's her innate system
The eagle mounts up, makes her nest on high
The horse is not afraid, with thunder he's arrayed
All these facts are obvious, can't deny
05.18.2021
10.12.10 syllables
For Brother Jacob's "Just stating the obvious" contest
~My Tricycle~
Christmas eve,
I could not help but peek.
There it was, a blue and pinkish bike.
With streamers all for me...
A ride, I wanted to feel inside.
A surprise, I ruined for my eyes.
The joy I felt, a naughty kid like me could not hide.
Running back into my room, jumping with glee.
Waiting and waiting...............................................
Christmas day, comes to life.
I'm all excited.. With the biggest grin...
Mommy walks me to my bike.
My grin slowly fades away.
A red tricycle, I start to cry.
I did not understand, why my older sister got the pretty bike.
My Christmas, ruined by a ruby red tricycle.
Mommies, hug did not comfort me.
I cried all night, and asked my daddy'
"How can this be?"
"It's not fair!"
"it's not fair!"
Daddy, had only one response..
"Sweetie, soon you will see."
New Years Eve**
I sit near the windowpane.
Staring at my sister ride her blue pinkish bike.
Even the streamers were laughing at me.
Night fall comes around..
It's cold and everyone is asleep.
I sneak my way into the barn.
I stare at it~
My sisters bike!
The smile on my face, I still can't erase.
"This bike will be mine tonight."
I grab the bike by the handles bars.
I walk the bike under the stars.
Two hours pass, and still I can't operate the pedals.
Finally I remove my shoes, and reach the pedals with my toes.
I'm off into the night, than suddenly I fell upon them rocks.
If only I waited for that push from daddy's hands.
:To Be Continued:
Lesson not learned,
My scars all accounted for.
“It is of the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23 of the King James Bible
With endless compassion, God cares for me
Assuring His presence, always steadfast
Since He redeemed my soul, setting me free
From bondage of grievous guilt of the past.
Midst endless mercy, the Lord reaches out
Granting pardon with His life-changing might
For my confessed sin along stubborn doubt
Toward righteous walk by His guiding light.
Oh, endless is the love of Christ* indeed
Offering life everlasting as gift
Thus, to Him I do cast my every need
Trusting that my heart He can surely lift.
Endless peace from the Almighty prevails
Smiting fears and worries brought by despair
Guarding me with promise that never fails
Around Scriptures’ truth I claim in prayer.
Along endless grace the Saviour provides
My faith is made fervent for service zeal
With gratitude as my spirit abides
In His will, enclosed by triumphant seal.
*Romans 8:35-39 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
February 12, 2023
1st place, "Writing Challenge - E Words" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 2/14/2023.
I hold my little new born child
who is born in a hospital
in a town where tumbleweeds roll mild
the Cancer has been staged, its terminal
incurable and running wild
every hair on his head is counted
every toe accounted for
I think about all the strength surmounted
for this jewel in my pinafore
and hear his loud sharp cry, undaunted;
rage of angels rap at my chest door
as I fade away into his heart beat,
the lion comes for his feeding chore;
Oh those eyes of finest wheat,
how they draw me in aside the shore
and move me to a place of Grace.
The curtain closes and I weep
inside my ventricle, his memorized face
I pray to God my soul to keep,
then glide away, to another place.
September 6, 2021
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Contest Name Quintain (Sicilian)
They were accounted for,
officially dead at least,
but the sickening fact was
that large numbers of the dead
had gone missing.
Occasionally, still pinging cellphones
were found in Hades, Purgatory, and
other Bardo states.
Olympus was drunkenly silent,
as were almost all of the seven heavens.
In nirvana,
the footwear of some of the deceased,
had been left in a discarded pile.
The missing had presumably
transported themselves
to some less boneheaded ideas
of the afterlife.
Eventually, God gave up looking.
The missing dead never returned,
having found their own way
out of all that craziness.
across the table pink-eyed – not even Alice’s rabbit either – the impenitent sat – stooped – round as a fatted pig – full of pride in service – unabashed by his kill count – he spoke of philosophy Paris and London – his son following in his footsteps - Afghanistan his war – Perrier green glass sparkled – heat withheld – lust present & accounted for – lust for the military bit
across the table sat Alice - unknowing peacemonger – she observed his head turtling into his neck – she didn’t comment on his war stories – caffeine drove her to the precipice of honesty - lemming like she fell – but not for him – the hour spent down the rabbit hole passed – the sustenance she fed him swallowed - they parted ways
no company found – matchless – burnt-out flames – neither the better off for the meet