Long Age group Poems
Long Age group Poems. Below are the most popular long Age group by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Age group poems by poem length and keyword.
FLAWLESS? .................OR FLAWED?
He scoffs at those who must wear glasses
When they check his eyes, he always passes
He can read his book when it is very close
And yet can see so far, that he’ll puff and boast
No spec’s for him, NOPE ! He’ll never need 'em
Those perfect eyes, he’s quite proud of them
They say each one is twenty/twenty
His vision exceeds his age group, plenty!
He brags, and spouts that he can see.....
his neighbor’s flaws across the street
~
But sadly, what he does not see
What are beautiful things to you and me
He only sees when rain clouds darken
He cannot see that springtime harkens
He cannot see beyond the dark
Where beauty lies among the stars
Or dew upon the morning rose
He'll only see where weeds have grown
When harvest moon is on the hill.....
he'll watch TV, then take a pill
The things we see, with eyes, aren’t nearly
a gift if hearts can’t see them clearly
~ ~
For the "Flaw and Flawless", contest by Skat
When December comes,
memories stir up unsought.
Once caught in its whirl
I sink down deep until inebriated
December brings in its wake
baskets full of recollections which take me
back to the days at my parental home,
where, as a child, celebrated Christmas
with my siblings and my parents.
I haven’t forgotten those haunting days
and never will I, if sanity sticks.
To my parents, Christmas meant waking up early,
putting on the best dress kept ready
and going to church to attend the mass.
While they devoutly partook of the ceremonies,
we children, lured by the sparkling lights
would peer into the crib set ready at one corner
to have a look at infant Jesus lain on hay
with mother Mary and Joseph on either side
and the Magi, shepherds and their herd
More than piety, what governed us then
were the thoughts of making a crib.
Also the yummy goodies awaiting us at home
and the planned visits of relatives.
On every Christmas, our house
would become an extended family
with our uncle and aunt and their children
of almost our own age group.
Preparing an inventory of things to do
was the greatest fun for us children.
Playing hide and seek and going on a trek
to the neighbouring hill were the two things
that always figured in the wish list.
Though there were no presents
under the Christmas tree to be unwrapped
and no fanfare as of now,
how I relish the unconditional love my parents gave
that I still feast on when I starve in life’s sandy dunes.
Festive occasions spark such nostalgia
that I long for the warmth, got as a child
from my parents who are now dearly missed
and my siblings scattered in places, out of easy reach.
As waves of memories from the past,
retreat and throw back relentless,
when blood calls to blood,
their echoes beat hard on the walls of my heart.
Fight Corona Through Breathing & Music Part 1 of 2
My apology from all those whom I informed to post this msg. On PS 3-4 days earlier. I thought first to place a video on You Tube and then post it on Poetry Soup so that, you may find it easy to learn the great
Musical Yoga for giving a new confidence and hope to all those who try to learn this art of music.
Ravindra
Fight Corona Through Breathing & Music Part 1 of 2
This Video* is a Free Gift to suffering human beings
from me for all my friends and non friends,
on Poetry Soup, face book, Twitter, Instagram and
on pinterest etc anywhere in the world.
Video URL:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5sa5F6v0OjQ&t=28s
For learning these simple Indian Musical wonderful notes and Practicing it,
To make you more strong, and sturdy,
To face the emerging new challenges of Corona. 01
.
The daily practice of SARGAM ( Musical Notes)
of Indian Classical Music) Is capable to boost your body energy and your confidence level,
It would also make your lungs more strong to pump more oxygen in your body,
This effort would improve every ailing organs in your body with minimum medicines and care. 02
.
These exercises requires no other additional medicines than what you may be taking as per the advice of your physician,
The only thing which can be more beneficial is a input of a matching Sound of Music with your voice, which is not possible due to Corona problems and I have given it in the video itself for general use.
It can be tried and practiced by anyone of any age group healthy or sick with the music as given by me on my You Tube Video.
Even those, who are bed confined, they too can try it- if can do it from their bed itself by sitting on bed (Unless sitting is not allowed to them). 03
.
This Video is not a medicine of Corona but it is a wonderful precaution to keep Corona away from us, as much it is possible, as it improves our general immune system. 04
Concluded in Part 2
Ravindra K Kapoor
Kanpur India 8th April 2020
A young girl,
An old lady,
A mother of two,
A passionate dancer—
All were friends of mine.
Across the decades,
Through Chennai floods
And Hindi classes,
They stood with courage and quiet dedication.
Their words—scattered notes of inspiration,
Their choices—prompt, firm, and full of grace.
They stood as ideals—
In studies, in marriage,
In hobbies and in ageing gracefully.
Friends from every age group—
A potpourri of ideas, actions, and lived experiences.
Jolly days and radiant faces,
Deep talks and shared silences—
All in pursuit of a life
Guided by values,
Uplifted by love.
Friends, friends, friends—
Let’s carry on.
Celebrate with furry companions,
Wipe away tears,
Stand shoulder to shoulder, always.
In life’s long sail,
We brave the roughest tides,
And reach the distant coast—
Of course, with friends.
Friends are the spark,
The rhythm, the fire.
They are the heartbeat of joy,
The shower that soaks us
In all that makes life truly happy.
Way back in 1983,
when I was just twenty-four you see,
very early in my career,
young, naïve, somewhat cavalier,
I wanted to buy a brand-new car,
something sporty, not some "boxcar".
Of course I had the money, the "dinero",
so I went out and bought a Chevy Camaro.
It was a 1983 Sport Coupe -
rather appropriate for my age group.
The color was diablo red,
and lemme tell ya! It sure turned heads!
Everywhere I went, that car got attention
and I won't deny it gave me an air of pretension.
Looking back, I suppose I was young and foolish
thinking that the car made me look coolish,
but that car was dependable
and took me where I needed to go,
whether on winding roads
or on the straight and narrow.
Now I have a treasury of memories:
its sounds, touches, and sights as well;
I still can remember that new-car smell.
Your first car is something you fondly remember,
forgetting the flaws, looking back on its splendor.
All was well
I wanted to share
I wanted to serve
I graduated with a goal
To help others
And to figure out my dream
I flew off to volunteer
And the first thing I heard
You aren’t good enough
I didn't have a license
I didn’t do drugs
I was “too innocent” for my age group
The middle age folk were too busy
They didn't have time for a kid like me
The older folk were precious
But they couldn't relate
Due to generational differences
I was separated from the group
Sent to my own project
Far away in maryland
What luck
My boss was another volunteers parent
Maybe we will get along
What horror
My boss thinks that her baby deserves better
And treats me like crap
I though I signed up
To look after children
Not to scrub walls
Isn't it a bit much
To expect me to clean
All this by myself?
My leg hurts
But I can't drive
Guess I won’t see the doctor
Why would you say
I did good
And then say I was the worst employee you ever had?
Just because there is a volunteer contact
Doesn't mean I have to stay here
So stop quoting the damn thing
How has it only been half a year
All my old wounds reopen
I don't feel safe
But I WILL stick it out
SUMMERTIME YAY
Now i'll get to help
Take care of children
Nevermind
Boss lady is a jerk
She puts me on full time cleaning and kitchen
This wasn't in the contract
I have to work breakfast
I have to work dinner
I clean in between
6 am - 1am is my shift
FOR TWO MONTHS
I fondly remember
You quoting the contract
MUST WORK 8 Hours Daily
I'm pretty sure that was a limit too?
Finally the end is here
But you want me to stay?
Another Month?
Bro- I've got college to get to!
Cant even be bothered
To take me to the airport
Well, what did I expect
Form:
I saw her in the marathon
She was limber and lithe and slim
Between mallards like a swan
I had the urge to show off, to win
She glided over the London route
Like water flowing around a stone
Like an ethereal tune from a flute
I passed her, and I ran alone.
I got to the ending tape
There was a man waiting with a kid
He hugged her out of shape
Because of the time she did
Then I realized I'd run the best
Even if I felt like a dupe
Chasing that wisp, I'd beaten the rest
Of the motley crew in my age group.
Around my neck, a medal for the course
The cameras clicked, people cheered
Newspapers said I was a dark horse
Out of nowhere, I had appeared.
I saw her walking toward the park
Her husband carrying her gear
She didn't know she’d been my spark
And suddenly my head was clear.
Oh, I saw her in the marathon
A silver stream for the duration
And now that breathless day is gone
I'll take the motivation.
She was a phantom in the crowd
A beautiful, fleeting sign
She made me run till I was proud
Until I crossed that finish line.
There once was a guy who crafted a poem;
it’s possible that you might even know him.
It seems that he had a way with the verse;
he wasn’t the best, but he wasn’t the worst.
They’d come in a flurry, the bad and the good;
he’d try to transcribe them as fast as he could.
Inevitably, there’d be a cessation;
it seems his muse would go on vacation.
It was times like these, when the words weren’t flowing,
he decided to try his hand at rowing.
With a handle and chain instead of an oar,
he got in good shape and built up his core.
With thousands of others, he entered a race,
and managed to snag an age group first place.
He thought maybe then that he might see his muse;
the subject of rowing perhaps could be used.
Return of the linguist: on fire, on fleek!
Alas, but instead, just the paddle-less creek.
Now bound and determined to settle a score,
he’s sulking and sculling towards some distant shore.
The future called and I responded, armed with scars my years of acquired wisdom and rife experience, declared with voice of reason, a projection of matter, called for fellow age group, but trend and fame caught them in its web,
chose to ride alone for alone was I conceived, going against the law of humanity, the spirit of Ubuntu, my mind declared war, war on postponement and wavering, for the journey demands uprightness and bravery,
my undying desires for progress, my inner being erecting flag of hope for generations yet undiscovered, hearing simmering vibrations in my belly button, evoked by my birth cord right, a right to create and leave trademark meant to challenge what God hands designed to no limit,
my undying pride for better and transformative tracks with trails of gazing back no more for the enemy heading the forefront of the future, success. My pursuit for foundation meant to breed seeds of eternal challenged perception and visioning.
Being of the seed that refuse to go unnoticed, placing everywhere, marks that evokes minds and creative of the future, so unshakeable daily on mission to create possibilities where existed none, for the calling still yet not reached it's silent lay, fueling the course to wash every barrier at exposure,
with my contributions like statues meant for generational reference, a generation of matter and reason, of statued and statures, the remarkable signage of irrevocable pioneering for change and immensely innovation, a future called and I heed to the voice
#Poetic_Ink
We’ve all been young dumb
and unaware so has everyone,
we too were the first generation
growing up with tech others hadn’t
I was born last century so to kids I’m old
Born the same year as Back To The Future
predicting widescreen television, video calls,
audio control, using fax but not computer
Fax and pagers have gone away with phone booths,
VHS and Cassettes, everything was fuzzy,
TV pictures Radio sounds and body hair now removed,
My generation inherited rubbish then we got real busy
Everything computerised, compact and crystal clear,
mobile phones sized like part of Stonehenge
couldn’t hear people talk unless they stood within ear
we sped up our evolution, the crap we had back then
Kids don’t stop and think they use what my generation made
As we did too they now joke “you’re so old you grew up in a cave “
My age group are called millennials, children of the millennium,
We watched as those Twin Towers fell and then lost a war to the Taliban
We grew up hearing stories about the “Greatest Generation”
Their finest hour and the few, the honour that lost the Empire,
We used to rule the waves and had the biggest empire in creation,
And we’re just Great Britain and it’s all gone a bit dire
In this age today, “The Technological Revolution”
On the fringe of World War Three, this dick-tator called Putin,
now I’m not saying assassinate but somebody should shoot him,
Because kids today cannot fight, this war will end us losing
100 years ago we really had the might
how did we reach this point, nothing left
but sh**e
we’ve broken down the race divide the sex divide and preference,
“We must see the Russians off or lose our independence”
A future of lost privileges lacking new creations
imprisoned by technology and bigoted racist nation
winning this war will take “The Greater Generation”
should that day come, history must be the most important education!!
We gave Hitler room, it gave him the advantage,
So I say flatten Moscow, and leave Russian cities damaged,
It’s only going to escalate, casualties a plenty,
We should all attack at once, destroy and leave Russia empty