Long Altruist Poems
Long Altruist Poems. Below are the most popular long Altruist by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Altruist poems by poem length and keyword.
Owning a barn was one of your wish lists
Reaping a fruit tree is not a work of an altruist.
They said blueberry jams are your favorite
Wonder if you’ll eat them at once: Savor it!
Did you collect eggs from a tired hen?
Did you rip off the sheep’s clothing in a pen?
I wonder what the old cow said when you milked him out.
Life must be exhausting: He wished to pass out.
How could a mule please your self-conceit?
I’ve heard your grown cattle gave you money and a receipt.
What did the turkey do to provide you with a thanksgiving feast?
The neighboring animals grin; they must be on their feet.
Does being a Welsh pig make you feel like a “Babe in the City”?
How could you allow your fierce cats to act like a kitty?
Raising fowls, geese and pheasants is a nice venture.
Should you stop “milking cow” for once: It’s such torture!
(Should parents use their children as an investment?)
Of course, who can claim to be my lover
Eternally wedded to him I am, in the form of a prayer
That is you, only you, powerful Lord
Revered you shall be as long as I can breathe your word!
Seated on the highest altar of my heart
Forever you shall be the ladies' sweetheart
Even if the guys will want their friendship's part
My lover forever you shall be in your tender heart
Feelings are profuse,
You have been my only muse
Lighting up at all times my fuse
Tending all the times to my bruise
Blissful are those seated near the Lord
Guiding them he is, always away from discord
Pray, altruist Lord, Love me endlessly
I am yours incessantly, claims my harmony
Placed 6th in the contest Endless Love;Gail Doyle
She lived beside the old temple that has stood
For years on the rocky bank of the silent river
Flowing all through the lining greenery cover ,
The woods and the arable land rich and good ;
Years ago she was the landlady ruler, across
The several hamlets, who doled out for free
What they asked for -grains, clothes in a spree
And never cared for the end - gain nor the loss
It was an abrupt outbreak, an epidemic dreary,
That effaced the strugglers picking by lot ;
The good landlord was the first to be caught ;
For no cause, nor reason he became weary;
Leaving behind his suffering soul sans a child
And all his countless riches for her to cherish ,
He finished his spell with no joy, so to perish
Alas ! the fate what else could be so ,so wild..!
There were mixed feelings and selfish amity
When the folk got more than what they sought
Coaxing the lady with ease and plea distraught
Soon she was homeless, yet in sound sanity,
Serving unbiasedly, the destitute, needy poor
Beyond all her ability and resource limit
But never was there a lapse nor any null remit
As the noble soul dwelt on healing their sore
Decades elapsed since, but for no change;
A slight cry of suffering reaches her soon :
And she rushes to them be it night or noon ;
None forgets that she is on the eighty range
Oh God! how strange are these facets of life!
While some chase far, the void and the futile,
Ever seeking somehow just their needs vile,
Noble beings but breathe for those in strife.
On the dismal day --- recall the rustics around,
She was carried away by the floods too wild,
As she tried and saved a drowning child ,
But lost her stance to the unsparing ground;
Hue and cry ,and searches wide found her not ;
A lamp is lit on the chosen day on her door sill
And many offer their prayers thereabout still :
More for favours than in memory of the spot.
The world doesn’t tend to give you what you want
Give me a locked box, the indescribable taunt
What if she was feeling generous?
In a moment of empathy, some severance
My fingers delve deep and rummage
I’d pay your entry fee, some sort of tonnage
Reaching past the gold, the silver
Some objects the victims to pilfer
I can feel it beating at the bottom, submerged by guilt
Picking up the shattered pieces, always knew you needed rebuilt
I'll spend all night putting you back together
Please let me talk to you, I can feel our tether
Your heart was broken in the bottom of my box
Why you left it with me is a total flummox
I chose to return your heart back to you, as you repaired mine
Maybe this time my act of kindness will cause us to intertwine
The world doesn’t tend to give you what you want
But if you give me a chance, maybe I can
Adumbrated aeration regarding...
crafting reasonable poetic rhyme
nothing to sneeze... at chew
asthma lingua franca –
acts as supercalifragilisticexpialidocious glue
inspiring me to skip to my loo,
and ye to play altruist gist
imagining how and why I still rue
cashing mucho moolah legal tender
courtesy bitcoin cryptocurrency,
which absolute zero funds recouped,
nevertheless dumbfoundedness ironically
found steely mettle to get smart
courtesy posting gofundme page
(titled implacable ill fate
battered treasured wealth)
on my part already got told to you
dear readers visiting my literary endeavor
written within vernacular English
spoken amidst human zoo.
Okay, the gist of anemic
checking and savings accounts averred
asked from one
FaceBook English literary
Jim Hensen creation and
Sesame Street resident Big Bird,
I could plainly enumerate
Sachin (means 'pure' in Sanskrit
and another name for Hindu God, Shiva.
The most famous Sachin
ranks as recently retired
Indian cricketer, Sachin Tendulkar).
Impossible mission to expunge poison
regarding stupidity and never be cured
of spellbinding nightmares,
and not accused
of acting demurred
the esse cent chill
dime a dozen premise ensured
prime merrily to discover
visa wells Fargo
sieve err (ala Eratosthenes) forward
solution, whereby means
to save money
against being gored
no...no...no...not to be stingy,
nor selfishly hoard
meager unearned social security
monthly allotment, aye ignored
to mention as key piece
of information a dub bill
lit tete ting bout with anxiety,
obsessive compulsive, not cavil
air lee shaken off and schizoid
personality disorder like evil
mailer daemons, which
undermined ability to full fill
quality existence, and even
prescribed about,
a half dozen plus three
medications help ill
psyche, though nonetheless mill
yens of precious moments pill
furred with profuse sweating still
interferes supplementing,
stoking, and socking
away reserve till,
last creased furrow sought out
here in Schwenksville
Pennsylvania most likely, where
one last gulp of oxygen will
finally deliver cremated ashes
into eternal void
where psychological state
free from being destroyed
and forever exempt trying
to be write lee employed.
In times truly simple and harmonious,
faith shined with ardent love...to never lead anyone astray,
and light was never overcome by darkness;
He heard our prayers and granted us joy,
no days were wasted chasing after man-made idols:
now-days those human idols still corrupt and deceive us
with lurid lyrics and satanical music...
'till we become their puppets dangling from a string!
Reach down to us...whom are lost,
lay out all the facts and impose the tremendous cost
for opposing Your will with that wary disobedience;
indulgence is rampant and pleasure is everywhere...
the young have no limitations in their actions,
and the murderous never deflect from their course!
Have we seen another Savior who can make us surrender:
and be aware of our sins and injustice?
In generations past, family was the foundation of happiness...
all gathered at a table topped with abundant food and celebrate
after saying, ' Grace ' to unleash their thoughts in conversation so elaborate;
today, they have fallen apart and given up on that closeness,
and not wish for a return to the warmth which glowed into their smiles:
they're glued to a wide screen with images of murder and violence!
The modern man is forbidden to be godly, but be altruist and invulnerable...
detaching himself from the heart's pure affections and consider himself invincible!
Reach down to us...whom are lost,
neither riches or fame can make us complete;
we weren't were born with the natural instinct:
to discern good and bad things.. even wrong and right:
without enlightenment and sought wisdom!
If Satan is still in control, we're to blame for letting this happen;
dedicating Him ballads of arrogant and obscene themes and, without concern,
we engage in a marathon of death and gloom!
Let them say I was a simple, stubborn person,
hypersensative or insensative, a dispenser of partial justice,
a person of particular patience,
may those who encountered me in moments of bliss or blight,
in instances of charity, charisma or condemnation speak of me ruefully & beautifully,
some will surely say that I was apolitical, asexual, atypical,
an atheist an animist, a racist or an altruist, a want to be soldier,
a combatant for my liberty,
others, I suppose, that I was selfish as sin,
courteous like kindness, and furious as a frustrated phantom,
maybe they'll say I was gay or anticompliance,
I do not dare require truth, fact or fiction from my bifurcated biographers,
I only ask for their breath,
their rosey & ruse recollections of my life so stark,
let them say that they knew me,
let them say that I lived,
that I lived lovingly, lonesomely, and learnedly,
let them witness my reality like laughter in the dark -
J.A.B.