Long Aide Poems

Long Aide Poems. Below are the most popular long Aide by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Aide poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Choices Every Day

Choices every day
Orange blouse? Purple shirt? Denim or corduroy?
Potato chips or healthy cabbage?
Polite or rude?

Choices hourly.
Spend money on me, or spend money on others?
Do the laundry, or let it keep piling?
Comfortable shoes or sexy shoes?

Choices yesterday
Kool-aide or water?
Sandwich or three-course-meal?
Respectful or disrespectful?

Choices every second
To smile or frown? To make a federal case or ignore?
To be nurturing or apathetic?
Responsible or Irresponsible?

Choices this weekend.
See relatives or friends?
Shop or save money?
Be kind or unkind?

Choices every day.


It's Not Pretend

Sapphire blue eyes guide my path
Your love has escaped me from this wrath

Your words and teachings guide me well
Alone and scared ~ you rescued me from that prison cell

You've taught me things nobody could teach
You've climbed to the top ~ where no one can reach

You've proved yourself time and time again
You are my guardian ~ it's me you defend

You are my everything ~ it's you I see
You are my lungs that allow me to breathe

You are my shooting star ~ it's you I believe
You are my life support for as long as I breathe

You are my best friend ~ all in a wrap
I am your bait and I'm stuck in your mysterious trap

Although you picked me up, it's still a mystery
You are my soul and you aide me when I begin to bleed

You are my fiancee and I'm in love with you so much
I simply can't get enough of your touch

I choose to be by your side until the end
What we have is for real ~ it's not pretend
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Farm Auction

An unsophisticated feller attending an auction could find himself in a pickle!
The nuances, subtleties and gestures used in bidding could cost him a pretty nickel!
A city feller decided to attend a farm auction to see what it was all about.
Alas, he accumulated a heap of needless stuff before he could figure it out!

He was fascinated by the tractor, manure spreader, horses, hogs and cows,
And the chickens, goats, manure forks and hay to be auctioned in the mows!
The auctioneer began his alien spiel and the feller couldn't understand a word,
But farmers in overalls and John Deere caps knew exactly what they heard!

Bidding began on an old steel-wheeled 1925 Model D over-used John Deere.
The feller watched others offer their bids as he reached to scratch his ear.
The auctioneer yelled, "SOLD to the man scratchin' his ear over by the fence!"
He was the stunned owner of a tractor - it happened so fast he didn't have a chance!

Next up for bid were a fancy chamber pot, two horse collars and fifty feet of hose.
The feller in all innocence swatted at a pesky fly that had landed on his nose!
The auctioneer yelled, "SOLD to the guy who swatted his nose for fifty dollars!
Son, you got a steal!  That's an antique thunder mug and so is them there collars!"

The auctioneer opened bidding for twenty bales of newly cut alfalfa hay.
The feller was distracted for a moment and waved at a pal across the way.
"SOLD" said the auctioneer, "Please write a check for this stuff to my able aide!"
The hapless guy was wondering how he'd explain to his spouse the purchases he'd made!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Form: Rhyme

Cannabis Sativa Mini Seedy Saga

(cuz ma life iz such a drag...
this toke kin “FAKE” hemp  
pyre aye roll out to you dear reader).

As a double jointed mathematical abbot 
and amateur chemist 
   specializing in cannabinoids
   my favorite delta-9-tetra
   hydrocannabinol (THC), 

   isolated and synthesized in 1964
weeding thru bathroom rag 
   while athwart the potty
   i.e. measuring adequate perforated 
   square roto root er, sans 
   regular toilet tissue paper 
   prior to completing important 

   private business matter 
   on the sacred porcelain chamber pot
Mary Jane made a token appearance, 
   and boy she looked smoke kin hot
asking if I wanna marry (Jane) her attired 
   in drag at a joint where Billy Bong  

   banged on by the hands of 
   a phenomenal drummer 
   taut as a hemp knot
with music in his blood 
   while blowing  fractal rings – holy Scott
the immediate utterance, 

   and rather creative bon mot
found me stock still like stone wall Jackson, 
   who unfortunately got deprived a hit, 
   nonetheless got shot
unwittingly by his own (confederate troops), 
   whose demise an awful blot

per southern cause during 
   the Civil War and if anachronism
   to receive medicinal aide available 
   instead of primitive treatment he got
(as well other wounded soldiers 
   of misfortune on the battlefield), 
 
   whose faith the any almighty power 
   could do little to save their roach invested lot
yet availing my imagination 
   to twist time like that Mobius strip 
 mortally wounded rebels and Yankees 
   free from facing death on a cot
might be successful hemp 

   entrepreneurs cultivating a little spot
of land hemp would outstrip cotton 
   as king as export to trot
orange you glad I avoided 
   the analogy with a kumquat?

Premium Member The Newer Testament

Pon a time when history
Began with archeology
When scale skinned creatures left the sea
Evolved in time to you and me

Could be said it went awry
Parents gone, no time to cry
Buttons pressed ignited sky
Carbonised to crumble dry

First the west and then the east
Named the other as the beast
Targets west meant Trident east
Paper lived though flesh deceased

Man and woman, frazzled meat
Written word resisting heat
Pages fluttered incomplete
Edges charcoaled litter street

Gathered up to learn again
What was known by older men
Men who should have warned for when
The oldest man is me aged ten

And so collecting paper bakes
Partial pages, fragments, flakes
Learn anew for all our sakes
But sharper to apply the brakes

Stories, fables, some survive
A goodly man did once arrive
Gather every scrap and strive
To find the saviour still alive

This man born of no earthly dad
Sent to fight against the bad
Defender of the good we had
To aide the weak and cheer the sad

Upon our knees to ever look
Collect the shreds to make the book
To tell the pain our martyr took
And keep the faith from being shook

And with the book it shall be heard
Of human conflict so absurd
A saviour, righteous and assured
A man tis said flew like bird...

Or was it a plane?
war
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Whimsicality

WHIMSICALITY
nonsense
 verse
& limerick
in
  extraordinary
visual
sketchesin

a
diary
 of
requited
 jottings
down
&
visiting
 images

 the
pictorial
aide-memoire
of
observations
&
evocative
sequenced
slices
  of time
changing
 drifting down
notations

 revealing
 singled out
spectacular
images
of
the silly the
surreptitious
private
joke
in
  cartoon-like
scribblings


NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE   using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Form: Other

Premium Member Reap Reap Reap

(Dedication: To all readers and friends and 
the PoetrySoup community who find delight
especially in my Alliteration poems. Thank
You for your support.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Rich reason rhymes
Enter each etch
Affluence aligns
Play plunders patch


Real roaming raves
Endow embrace
Applause amaze
Prime precious pace


Reach respects raid
Echo each end
Apply apt aide
Primal poise pens


Rhymes reel relent
Embark embloc
Answer attends
Poise pens prologue


Ride rivers real
Expect endow
Assign assail
Practice prompts plough


Retrace rich rays
Endings express 
Appease allay
Poignant progress


Roaming real roads
Effort explodes
Applause attains
Pleasure pines plain


Riddles reap rust
Enlight each ease
Affect apt ask
Prime profound peace


Rich rays reveal
Each end enjoins
Appease appeal
Peace provides point


Leon Enriquez
22 May 2014
Lijiang, China
Yunnan Province

Pebolle's Bullitin

as of December ( 2000)
all request for marriages
 are to be expressed in writing by
both Bride and Groom.
these writing are then to
be kept on file by
the church secretary,
and may be viewed by those
member of each family to
have a visual aide, when
church counseling is done
to talk to family member
 about certain issues.
see the secretary for further detail's.
 
member of the banquet committee
 are to meet on the third Friday before
Easter. Details of the meeting
is to allocate the funds for the
summer celebration
and the fall celebration.
Fund raisers for each event will be
held during the summer 
and the fall.

Our annual steak night will
be held in accordance to the steak rules.
we will hold elections for the new president.
the ballot box will be placed in the dining
 room. the election will
be held on Sunday March 4 , if your name
is on the ballot please be in attendance.

Premium Member Your Grandmother's Hands--

Your Grandmother's Hands--

Misshapen pain ridden
Yet still fixes Sunday dinner
Straggle and worn, somewhat torn
Afflicted with arthritic pains
Barely can wash her hair
Opens up window breathes in fresh air
And a velvet ribbon
She’s had since adolescent
There’s a secret box
That she keeps lock
Never does she untie
Those hurt the pains in her eyes
She made Kool-Aide
Placed in a glass pitcher, HEY!
Empties an ice cube tray
Placing the food on the table everyday
When you shake her hand don’t hold too tight
It pains her the grips you have ignite
But straight and strong her hand unfold
Clasp together when praising/praying to God
So if yet now you don’t understand
These too could be your-- Grandmother’s hands

4/28/18
Poetry  Contest  - Jamie's interesting Contest 3 
Sponsored by: Jamie Pan |
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Oven Mitt

Minutes in, days out, I would succumb
To an electric wave of heat:  this once
Tidy dress lined in cotton and quilt now appears
Scratched like a hand-me-down cloth;
My  upper ribs  tossed into a furnace
While the sizzling smoke chokes this neck…
Yet, Milady is not done with her slew of cuisine.

She tightens my back amiably in fetal position
Carrying jars, kettles, and pans ... with me
As her absorber from the burn of summer;
Her food tester masking like an undercover aide.
Yes, we are both overworked. I observe her	
Lounging on a pantry chair  inclined to cleanse
My body reeking of oil, grease, and pepper.

O Milady is genteelness, that skin so milky white,
Her fingers patting my dry cheeks before night  breaks
While she glides out the door in lilting hums…
And only then can I lie on the sill to rest quietly
Under the glittering weave of tender moonlight. 

--
Potholder Contest of Craig Cornish
5/15/2020

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