Long Argument Poems
Long Argument Poems. Below are the most popular long Argument by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Argument poems by poem length and keyword.
From the heart of green naïve village
surrounded by corps field, mosque, ponds,
ancestral grave yard, school, college,
madrasah (islamic school) etc he is
brothers, sisters with parents, a beautiful family
with relatives, neighbors he had
learned person he was, full memorizer of
the Holy Quran and institutional study was 10th grade
but dreams touched his eyes, his breaths, his veins
the dream in the hollow eyeballs of him
flaring dreams have been gathered in his sight
dreams touched his ideality, his mediocrity, his learning
against the holy verse
dreams touched him inseparably
dreams touched him within vain clothing
dreams touched him within flirting industrialist mind
dreams touched him within merciless sky scraper building
dreams touched him within fake benevolent charity right hand
dreams touched him abortive assurance giving to others in generosity smiling
dreams made him blind to the path of income
small income once made up him happy with family and relatives
but leaving small, come to big on the lame stretchers dreamy boat
he did not understand- dreams in lazy hands is
misfortunate hell for upcoming every steps
dreams made him luxurious ambitious as
the begging bag before learning how to beg
dreams made him laughter in garrulous argument
as happiness of billionaire under torn blanket
in biting cold winter dreamy night
dream made him foolish dandy in business world
as Xerox machines copying activities
which has no personality to make another root
to survive with it as parasite
dreams made him passerby the dark path
dreams made him lonely walker
dreams made him lonely resident on title-less building of hill view
dreams made him unknown religious in the eye view of unfamiliar him
dreams made him a dark horse in flattering broker world
dreams made him hilarious land lord in his verbose copying documents
dreams made him a beggar in heavenly real eyes of the sun,
crystalline day approved him he was dreamer only
from the dreams he made his journey to be great
benevolent helper of relatives and neighbors
he was dreamer but in paralyzed bone and indolent veins
and this dream awakens him in tears of mysterious death
(Written on my Maternal Uncle Hafez Abdul Allam 4th July 1962-29th July 2018, who was inactive but great dreamer, but sudden death of him makes us heart rending cry)
The trumpet of the Almighty God will blow. Then the whole world will instantaneously
know. That Jesus Christ has returned for his sheep. You may miss this train if your faith has
been asleep. Millions of your loved ones will disappear in the twinkling of an eye. Christians
will be lifted up to meet Christ in the sky. Those left behind have chosen their own path.
When people tried to tell them about Jesus they just walked away and laughed. It will be too
late to repent. Not ever hearing about Jesus can't be your argument. For everyone in the
world would have had their chance; To know about Jesus the Savior in advance.
Unbelievers need to be concerned. Jesus Christ is going to return!
Eventually we will watch the rise of the Man of Sin; He will be the devil incarnate,
wearing a seductive grin. Millions will believe and be deceived that this man is the predicted
Messiah. The Bible warns us in several prophetical books, From Ezekiel to Zechariah. THis
false Christ will have powers unlike this world has ever seen. He will wear a mask of peace
and claim he is the coming Nazarene. People of this world will believe this lie and will
spiritually die! Simply put the world will follow this man blind. This false Christ will do
whatever necessary to get into your heart and mind. This man will rule the One World
Government and claim to end all bloodshed. His actions will be so convincing, he'll even
raise the dead! But this is the anti-Christ, he is not the One. He is not God's Son! Here's
something for the ignorant to learn. Jesus Christ the real Son of God will return!
This One World Government is taking place. Get that Bible down from your bookcase,
and you will see. That everything is happening right now according to prophesy! Beware as
we watch nations turn on Israil. More than half the world will attend it's own spiritual
funeral! Cataclysmic events will unfold. World catastrophe that has been preached since the
days of old The American dollar has lost it's value. A One World currency will be issued to
me and you Millions are currently spiritually deceased. Even thousands of priests. We are
no longer the super power of the East. So prepare to receive or reject the "mark of the
beast." The evil of this world will burn. Jesus Christ the Savior will return!!!!!
I have a disability I’ve had my whole life long.
My memory disappears whenever things go wrong,
My first memory was wondering where and who on earth was I.
And who were all the people that I did espy,
When we moved to our first house, it struck me yet again.
Thank goodness my brother came along on his bike just then.
My mother came outside, and looked familiar so I followed her within.
I actually thought that I was normal, when I was very small.
They took my hand when I went out, so it mattered not at all.
Ingrained habits kept me in the yard, with my friends, and at their knee.
I was such a quiet thoughtful child, they were happy to let me be.
Who am I and where am I, became my quiet refrain.
But I didn’t worry because they always there to call my name.
My parents never caught on, no not once, never at all…
I actually acted like everyone else when I was very small.
I looked normal to others so alone I had to carry on.
Then I went to ballet class, I studied so very hard… for oh so long.
The day of the recital I lost it all in front all where I wanted to belong.
My mother thought it stage fright, and finally took me from the throng.
What good was it doing, she thought, if I did not want to learn the dance?
And then I realized to live my life I’d have to work hard for every chance.
And if I had an argument with a friend, it was over oh so fast.
For the stress made me forget and my life became recast.
So if they didn’t come around for a while I didn’t really care.
Because I would soon forget they had ever even been there.
Eventually they would come back and my memory would come back.
Then off we’d go to play again as I studied how to avoid another attack.
When asked what I wanted to play, I’d smile at them you see…
And they’d be happy as I said, “whatever you want is ok with me.”
But do not think to pity me for my stubbornness is truly limitless.
After 12 and ½ years in college… I became for 30 years, a true Chemist.
I raised a son and held my own in a world that couldn’t understand me.
But with all those bouts of confusion the world still became my cup of tea.
Quiet, stubborn, hiding my pain, and with lots of daily notes…
Lots of time spent studying ways around my problems, I would devote…
My family had no pity, just the charge to get out there with mankind.
And here I am successful at 58, now with poetry on my mind.
missing dog, Blackie. Besides the sound of our voices, the hymns playing softly in the
background, the noise made by the porcelain plates as Mama wiped and put them
away, the humming of the refrigerator’s motor, the house was quiet. No body knew
what had happened to Blackie. We were really concerned about the whereabouts
of the dog, even though Papa had assured us that he would return at some point.
Since the funeral, he had vanished. Even the old man who lived across the street
from us and who loved Blackie, had not seen him, nor had any of the other
neighbors. We had searched in all the usual places. He had never run away from
home before. As far as I remember, Blackie never did come back home.
As Papa sat in his usual chair, quietly playing with the food on his plate, the kitchen
door opened, and in walked Thomas, Brian’s best friend. They were the same age,
and were very close even though they did not attend the same school, or the same
church. The two had become friends since they met at a Junior Boys Scouts meeting
at the age of seven. Thomas lived some distance away but they maintained a
special friendship. Out of school, wherever Brian was, so Thomas would be. They’d
both turned fourteen last September. Throughout those years they still were active
members of the Boys Scout, and had risen together in rank. Thomas had been away
on the recent Scouting trip. They had traveled to a neighboring country for a Scouts’
Jamboree. Brian should have gone too but something to do with school exams came
up so he couldn’t go. Thomas had just returned from the Jamboree that Saturday
afternoon, the second week after Brian’s burial. Lena, Reggie and I got out of
our chairs and ran to greet him. It was like welcoming him and Brian home as the
two were always together. He picked Lena up as he greeted our parents. Mama
standing at the sink, turned around, took one look at him and walked briskly, almost
running out of the kitchen, with my other sister in tow.
Papa greeted Thomas, his voice almost inaudible. Thomas looked puzzled. I guess
he thought he had walked in during a family argument. He was about to turn back
and walk out because he felt a little intrusive, I guess. It was extremely quiet in the
room; very unusual when everyone was in Mama’s kitchen at the same time. And
Mama, walking
Dear Thom the Train
Attorney Page,
Defender of all Creatures
here below
in these DisUniting States
of throwback uncivil disunion,
What is your root foundation
for a constitutional argument
that all living residents
of these remaining United Democratic States
have a right
to restoring healthy justice,
to resiliently retaining healthy life?
Is this sacred democratic Source
inter-related with values
like well-being
prosperity
liberty
public health optimization,
declarations of defensive rights
for all Creation
to freely seek democratic empowerment
and liberating enlightenment?
Non-royalist
non-fascist
non-authoritarian
non-patriarchal
non-colonizing
non-racist
non-demonizing
non-anthropocentric,
non-xenophobic
non-narcissistic
non-egocentric
and, thereby, pro-green new and ancient win/win deals.
I am not a lawyer,
as you can clearly already hear,
but more of a constitutional
polycultural historian,
So, how do you briefly argue
in courts of your licit choosing,
an evolutionary theory
of democracy still healthily emergent?
Starting with straight
white
patriarchal property owners
of
African and Native American
domesticated and feminized
economic and political
natural and spiritual slaves,
Moving multiculturally out
to include prisoners
and homeless shelter dwellers,
human
and now our imprisoned
and life-endangered dogs
and cats,
horses
and cattle,
birds
and guines pigs
of democratic tensions
intentions
extensions
of dominating fraternity
and liberating sorority.
History shows
where our constitutional democratic story began
with white straight male slave-owner privilege,
But, how do you predict where
and when this evolving
expanding
emergent cooperative health-wealthing
cooperative reality
should
or could
or would globally end?
Or,
it is your brief courtship win/win position
that we must expect no such end
to this multiculturally revolutionary
democratic 20/20 revolution?
Moving from more Straight White Patriarchal
independence days
toward more resiliently fulfilling
Earth InterDependence Days
and sensory moonlit nights
Of freely orbiting stars
and planets
from democratizing Positive/Negative
Yang/Yin Energy
Empowering health,
Enlightening true and beautiful
polycultural
trans-historic
epic green
democratic wealth.
At the edge of twilight, where logic fades,
and the labyrinthine corridors of thought stretch endlessly,
I find myself wandering on the shoreless sea of imagination,
where poetry breaks the chains of reason,
and everything is equally possible and impossible.
In this boundless realm, I sculpt my verses from dreams,
each line a thread spun from the depths of the subconscious,
where fantastic waves caress the sands of reality,
erasing the boundaries between what is and what could be.
Here, I conjure castles in the air,
each tower a testament to the freedom of the mind,
unfettered by the constraints of logic.
The relentless waves of imagination
wash over my creations, shaping them
into ever-changing forms of wonder and melancholy.
In the silent solitude of this mental expanse,
I wander through fields of metaphors,
where thoughts bloom like ethereal flowers,
their petals whispering secrets of the unseen.
Each step I take unveils a new story,
a tapestry woven from the threads of possibility,
where every path leads to a different horizon.
In this dance of words and visions,
philosophy becomes an art of unraveling,
shattering the continuity of argument,
and guiding the soul towards the edge of the infinite.
Here, in the twilight between thought and dream,
I find a sanctuary where the heart speaks its truth,
unbounded by the limits of reason.
I dream of a future painted in shades of joy and sorrow,
where the ephemeral nature of happiness
is both a gift and a curse,
a fleeting moment captured in the lines of a poem.
In the deepest corners of my longing,
I seek a partner in this journey,
a soul steadfast and true,
but the cruel irony of fate decrees that this search
is a path I must walk alone.
My heart, fractured by the weight of this truth,
seeks solace in the quiet of resignation,
promising that somewhere, happiness awaits.
And in this endless sea of imagination,
I find a strange comfort,
knowing that in the realm of the fantastic,
everything is equally possible and impossible.
Thus, I stand at the threshold of the infinite,
a poet adrift on the waves of creativity,
my verses a testament to the boundless possibilities
that lie beyond the shores of logic,
a reminder that in the world of poetry,
the magic of melancholy flows like a river,
carrying us to places where dreams and reality intertwine.
My children came into my
Room one winter afternoon
My daughter softly said
Mama we tried to tell you this
Sometime in the middle of June
We have all decided that we
Have our own life to live
Somewhere down the line
Something had to give
We have decided to take
You to a home and we
Hope you like it there
Nurses around the clock and
People that really care
I can’t began to tell you
What I felt in my heart
Everything I lived for now
Suddenly torn apart
I saw no regret as I
Looked in their face
My son said mama learn to like it
Because here you will spend
The rest of your days
They picked me up and tossed
Me around like a rag doll
I could feel the heat inside as
My blood began to boil
Two months in that home
My worst fears came to pass
Orderly slapping me around
While others stood back and laugh
They rolled up a newspaper
And hit me on the head
When I needed to use the bed pan
They laughed and said use your bed
I had no strength in my legs
To carry me to the bathroom
Because of that I laid in
My own waste all afternoon
A young girl came to my room
Carrying my dinner tray
She took my urine poured
It in my tea, and said
Drink and eat hearty today
Where are my children
Must this continue be
What did I do so wrong
For this to happen to me?
I heard about the treatment the
Elderly endure while living in
This place they call home
But I always knew that in my
Heart here I didn't belong
My worst fears in
My whole entire life
Has finally come to pass
I have no more strength
Don’t know how long I will last
There’s nothing I want more
Than to be release from this torment
When I asked my kids to get me out
It turned into an argument
My children said they couldn't
Care for me they rather be alone
And that I should try to get
Use to my brand new home
They have children and what
Goes around will come around
As they will plainly see
And they will someday regret
What they didn't have to do to me
I am going to see my Lord
He won’t let this go on
Soon I will be from earth bound
Settling in my Heavenly home
When I see Jesus it will be
Worth the suffering and the pain
My worst fears will have died
And eternal happiness I will gain
Form:
When the wolf applied nicely
If he could come in,
The pigs replied thricely he shouldn't.
Then they scratched at the hairs
On their chinny chin chins,
And tightly bolted the door so he wouldn't.
But wolves, when out shopping,
Are not easily put off,
Even faced with the risks they are takin'.
This one ignored the wheezing,
And the nagging, rasping cough,
In his lust for ham, pork chops, and bacon.
First, he blew down the straw house,
Then the one made of sticks,
But by the third he was straining and grasping.
It was a veritable fortress
Of well-mortared bricks,
And emphysema left him panting and gasping.
With one last mournful howl,
The wolf knew he was done
And lay down in the driveway, embarrassed.
The pigs regained their composure
And called 911,
But when the cops came, the wolf claimed he was harassed.
The argument raged
For an hour or more
'til the cops gave them all a citation.
Still gasping for breath
As he slunk from the door,
The wolf was stopped by a squealed invitation.
"Wolfie, oh, Wolfie, please won't you come in?
We'd so like to have you for lunch."
And he would have gone on and ignored the appeal,
If he only knew that "ragout de loup" (pr. rah-goo duh loo)
Was the entrée, but he had no hunch,
And he was not one to pass up a free meal.
When a wolf's sick and hungry,
He might let down his guard
And do dumb things a wolf shouldn't ought to.
But for pigs, it's expedient
To get the final ingredient
Required for a tasty "wolf stew".
The wolf's huffing and puffing
Couldn't even come close
To the pigs' stratagems and devices.
After seven martinis,
It still hadn't dawned on the dope
That intelligence wasn't one of his vices.
If he'd had more brains than brawn,
This poor wolf might have known
That the pigs never meant to surrender.
They'd no more need to fear or hate him,
They knew the booze would marinate him,
So when they served him up and ate him,
He'd be quite succulent and tender.
If this tale has a moral, I'd like to propose
That "three heads are better than one" be selected.
In this case, not the one who worked the hardest,
But the ones who worked the smartest,
And as the little piggies guessed,
The wolf was the perfect luncheon guest.
Of course, their table manners weren't the best,
So they still made pigs of themselves, as expected.
800 miles.
2 hearts.
1 love.
How do I go on?
I cry myself to sleep.
Why do I stay?
I can't leave.
He's waiting.
An argument, needed to be won.
I feel like I'm in love.
No, I'm too young.
Time for bed.
why don't you stay up.
why don't you just think. Think about everything you've done.
Think of who've you hurt.
Think about who's gone.
Why don't you cry?
What's wrong with you?
Are you crazy?
what will you do?
Too many questions.
Too many tears.
So many lost things.
So many found fears.
Hold my hand?
Hold me tight.
Don't let me go.
please don't fight.
Take me home.
take me back.
Don't forget my love.
Don't forget the facts...
“Get lost, I don’t care,” snarled the young wolf disingenuously
The naïve stripling wanted little more than acclaim
With no knowledge of why it continued--
The
slow
pulsing
of his
ruby
vitality
into the
wounds of others
Which he mistook for his own
One day kind fate bestowed a gift like none else:
A life full to overflowing
With loving family and meaningful work
There was not one single extra quantum of energy
Work all day, family all evening, sometimes work all night
It all suffered from itself in a lovely, mediocre sort of way
But mostly it clarified
An argument, a stressful day, a worry had a price:
Family time, sleep, energy always the losers
Zero sum, one in, one out, unavoidable
The luxury of care was
dead.
So when rumors flew pell-mell, as they do
Like the Wicked Witch’s monkeys
I let them, not pyrrhically hunting them
To their nattering source
And out went the sheep in sheepdogs’ clothing,
Tissue paper acquaintances by the dozens,
Card house construct of popularity
and most of all, irrelevant obligations
If you care so little as to be swayed by the winds of rumor
Then that’s how much investment I have in you.
Bye.
I’m ironclad when impeccably intact in my integrity
Vulnerable only when I drop below my own equator
To the muck-slinging hyenas that beset us all
For when I am true to me, any harsh judgment of me
Reflects only on the one doing the judging,
as I am FREE
This is not to say that I own no bathroom freshener
--To keep the boat afloat, one must diligently look for leaks--
But the double-edged steel of the naked truth
Is the
only defense
And the best nutrient for the garden within
For then and only then am I right with myself and God,
And free as can be expected
from the cares of this world
6/9/16
© By Author
For Contest: Rise above it
Sponsor: Becca Teagan