Long Attend Poems
Long Attend Poems. Below are the most popular long Attend by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Attend poems by poem length and keyword.
Pecco, Ergo Sum
(I sin, therefore I am)
Not an aimless ride on Sunday morning,
But for a faith oblige I am tied to attend
“Sinners!” the priest thunders from pulpit,
“Repent, for your flesh betrays the soul!”
Verses cascade from the book of the wise,
Urging forgiveness to claim a seat
In a kingdom beyond the grave’s cold embrace.
I turn to the Creator, my maker divine,
Why craft flawed vessels, etched with fault?
Why carve weakness into our fragile clay,
Then wield fear to mend what You designed?
Could life not flow smoothly by Your Will alone?
Or is sin the pulse of existence itself.
Pecco, ergo sum?
Brief is our span, stumbling through shadows,
Misery and pain, heirs of an ancient wrong.
A scar of defiance haunts us still,
A faith forged in the fires of an old sin.
Fear, raw and unyielding, bids us believe
In redemption earned through sacred blood—
Yet suffering, sickness, poverty linger on,
We fall,wake up and sin again as if by default
Did creation compromise our existence
Making the essence of life not so divine
Did Your creation flaw our essence,
dimming life’s divine spark?
Where did dogma falter,
Rewriting life —Pecco, ergo sum?
It’s hard to quantify experiences, but to coin someone else's
original phrase, ‘you know it when you feel it.’
Now that I’m living in Paris, at my Grandmère’s 76-room ‘hôtel particulier,’ I find myself on the itchy edge of wealth, influence and power and while I don’t consider myself necessarily of that class, I’m certainly exposed to attempts to drag me into it.
Many afternoons, as I come home wearied by classes and braced for hours of study, there are these silver trays with little white, gold embossed envelopes (invitations), casually placed where they’re unavoidable, and it’s not unusual to find that one of the CMs has laid out a dress for me and a suit for Peter - though we seldom attend these events.
I find myself vociferously defending my schedule (for the thousandth time) - and I’ve only been in school three weeks: “Grandmère, I’m in med-school, I have homework.”
Let’s wax freeversely of the upper-class (as if I belonged)..
In elegant but confined houses
where lives unfold in drawing rooms
and the inhabitants are sharp and snobbish.
They struggle against social and erotic constraints -
frustrations essential to the drama and pathos of wealth.
Let the rabble be messily heterogeneous
and agenda-set “inclusivity.” It’s nothing to us.
It hardly foregrounds harmony or authenticity.
Civilized people are more reticent and buttoned-up.
it’s sexier and more romantic, to drive toward marriage,
where lovers work to deserve each other,
and individuals integrate into couples.
Failing this urbane integration, love degenerates
into solipsist libertinism and eventually, these
sad outcasts catch their deaths - apart and alone.
.
.
Songs for this:
Am I the Same Girl? by Swing Out Sister
It Hasn't Happened Yet by William Shatner
.
.
hôtel particulier = a grand urban townhouse (mansion) in Paris or other city.
76-rooms - 37 of those are bathrooms - do those count as rooms?
CM = chambermaid (I think Grandmère employs 12 domestic servants).
lower abdominal area gurgles and balloons
gastrointestinal tract
vis a vis flatulence croons
in tandem and/or subsequent expulsion
eliminates fecal waste
witnessing sprinting to bathroom, this scribe
(against time) and jet propulsion
of sphincter muscles'
spasmodic desperately raced
unpleasant symptom of anxiety/ panic attack
twas a stranger to this rhyme stir,
who now finds himself barrack
cay did, and held hostage, where thoughts
about mooning doth not crack
a smile, or baring derriere tubby more exact
me up - matter of fact
no source of laughter, nada one ha intact
(despite usual presence of chuckles
from this fan of good humor) high jacked
for what seems a maternity leave
from all mothers tub be
thus envision, a bevy of pregnant gals
aching with cramps he
ving (times square of the hippopotamus)
with cervix fully dilated key
ping alert, when mother nature ready
to pull up all stops (via umbilical cord)
to deliver nee,
sans bundle of joy, followed
in quick succession with after birth re:
placental sack, hence said effort to expel newborn
the closest scenario experience ill suited to dance
afflicting this anxiety prone lovely bones, an all expanse
paid (seat of the pants) accursed bane of proletariat grants
no truce to attend finds me pampered asper this rants!
Please come she urges me; I have attended before.
A high school class reunion which I have never enjoyed.
I will not be enticed to attend another.
The last two were busts, taking me away from my loves.
Poetry, painting, cartooning, and family.
At my age, my exit ticket could get punched at any moment.
How unsatisfactory would it be to get it punched
After spending four hours on the road to and from
people I would not recognize or say “hello to” on a New York street.
I will not be there, I tell her. I have a life to live, minutes that are expiring.
I will utilize every second of my spare time to uplift and nurture myself.
I will miss you she says.
I scoff.
The last three times I have texted to ask when she can talk
she has texted back “I will have to think about it.”
50 Words for Poe: Epoché
A short stay in Hell is
often part of the journey
required to reach Home
Sometimes one finds
oneself recidivist
re-haunting the lava pit
It’s the forward and return
stay in Purgatory
that’s the real Trip
Terror Fell
(Room 10, Asylum)
He handed back the key
She closed the panel
Her Epoché
remained in his hands
although, of this he was keenly aware, she was sorely amiss
he could still taste the Rosemary over Thistle in her kiss
Of course,
She had Room 9 to attend to...
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/ob0CILJ93bA
Low/Poor Sucker
“It is impossible to achieve the aim without suffering”. John G. Bennett
https://youtu.be/hzFsDQeTUT4
Fripp/Exposure
1. Epoché
2. Suspended Judgement
3. Suspended Disbelief
4. Asylum
Lyrics/Low, Poor Sucker
https://genius.com/Low-poor-sucker-lyrics
Wondrous ignorant blindfold convenient,
beauteous ideal woven lenient.
Instituted wayward thinking,
availing woes spirits sinking.
Stretching heads unfailing blow,
the best of attitude to go.
Befriending death cares for all,
rising above the flaming small.
Knowledge from the skeptic side,
consecrated muse runaway bride.
Substance reasons such,
indifference of too much.
The doubted mind in chaos,
black hole attraction cosmos.
Riddles of enthusing world,
poor judgment of truth enrolled.
When comfort in every state attend,
bride and ego are best friend.
Passion fits in every age as hope,
fortunes by small difference scope.
The living unseen and unknown,
poor visions stage outgrown.
When a glimpse of our image is caught,
and miracles of heaven are sought.
The living world all in spirit benign,
expressing feelings and our art divine.
Ever heard of the beautiful Ohio?
The writer in me wants you to know -
River life has its anecdotes
My granny, a German immigrant,
mastered that river in dinghy boats
to attend a Lutheran church.
I've crossed its waves on a raft that floats.
The writer in me wants you to know -
My father conquered the Ohio
on a ferryboat two times a day.
Except... when April rains closed the floodwall.
Then his carpool drove seventy miles one way
to cross on the next nearest bridge
in not-so-nearby Owensville Bay.
The Ohio River changes its flow.
The writer in me wants you to know.
My grandpa walked it in the depth of winter's freeze;
my grandkids explore its fossils in summer's drought.
Swimming it upstream is not an easy breeze
but its muddy shores hold childhood treasure.
It's where we teens met with our main squeeze.
August 14, 2021
Sponsor Constance La France
Contest Name Your Favorite Rhyme Poem in August 2021
To see a sunny sky
To hear a baby cry
For a glimpse of daylight
And a soft kiss at midnight
For a cool drink of water
And a smile from my daughter
To have the blues on the run
And to get a hug from my son
On and on there is so much more
For the stars up above
To have someone to love
To have my income tax filed
To see the eyes of a child
To have some coffee or tea
And the chance to be free
For a roller coaster ride
To watch the evening tide
These are things I'm thankful for
To ride a passenger train
And to stand out in the rain
To take a long summer's walk
Sit on the back porch and talk
To put a puzzle in place
And feel an angel's embrace
To build a bridge that won't burn
And watch a soldier's return
The list goes on, there is so much more
To attend county fairs
And to say evening prayers
To see the first robin in spring
And listen to a bluebird sing
To climb a mountain, stand and wonder
See the lightning, hear the thunder
To start everyday anew
And know that I have you
These are things I'm thankful for.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!!
Natural compassion,
like unnatural hate,
is left hemisphere teachable
and right hemisphere contagious.
Perhaps also like hate
(fortunately I know less about this
journey in misfortune)
compassion cannot mature
through merely didactic reasoning,
words,
thoughts
devoid of healthy/pathological
safe/danger
anticipation/anxious feelings
Positive communication experience
commitment
predicts healthy integrity
Nurturing
and nutritional support
Nature's cooperative respite
into nondualistic yet spirited peace,
resonantly non-anxious safety
breathing light in
and power out
A lifetime environmental healthy
guarantee
that I will notice,
respect,
attend to,
anticipate moments when alone
to fill with imaged complex solidarity
rather than emptying
into dark silent apartheid,
despairing manic loneliness,
uncomfortable forced separation,
segregation,
severance.
Compassion
grows from infant attachment
into childhood appreciation,
puberty's struggling acceptance
flaring into peaks of passion,
adolescent sympathy
for EarthTribes left behind
and out
and under
and away,
blown up by abuse
and fractured by neglect
Of HerStory within history,
rich indigenous polycultures,
ancient ecofeminist liturgies,
healthy and impassioned sexuality
Marginalizing into unstable labels
of Either Us Or Them
eco-political competitions,
divisions,
polarizations
of what MotherEarth
wove
wombed
birthed together
For mature
adult
healthy and safe
EarthTribal empathy
Which,
when felt and known,
seen and heard,
touched and smelled
as uniting co-empathy,
we deeply feel
and wide-culturally speak
of integrity's theistic mystery
Sacred,
wondrously overwhelming,
awesomely unspoken underwhelming
Present CoPresence
Steadfastly anticipating
timelessly stable
strong yet flowing
compassionate
universally uniting
Yang-Yintegral
health polarity and wealth circularity
CoBinary
CoPartisan
CoPassionate
green communion.
September 21 the last
Day of Summer
Today it is already the first day of
Fall
Today I woke up
At 6:30
It was dark outside
It looked like midnight
And the trees are
Starting to change its color
To golden yellow
Some trees are already losing their leaves
Monday the kids are getting up
To go to
And they complain that they are tired
When they wake up
Yes during the weekend they can sleep in
There parents don't mind that
Monday they need to wake up early
Get dress and eat some breakfast
Take their back packs
On their back
And wait on there bus stop
When the TTC arrive they will
Pay there fare with presto
Then they will find a place to sit
On the bus
At 8:45 they arrive in the school
The bell ring at 9:00 PM
They must attend class at that time