Long Attitudes Poems
Long Attitudes Poems. Below are the most popular long Attitudes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Attitudes poems by poem length and keyword.
There are two kinds of cultures
- Defined in different ways
In different countries and lifestyles,
Valley vs Mountain, Settled vs Nomadic
Or in modern America, City vs Country -
With their two opposing attitudes,
“Let us tell you what to do!”, and
“Just leave me alone…”
It’s a simple dichotomy really
Of a group and collective orientation,
And a more individualist and self-reliant one
Based on the reality of survival
Each different lifestyle requires.
Different people have different affinities
And many self-select to live around similar types,
But there are plenty who find themselves living,
Out of family or work or relationship needs,
As a minority, a stranger in a strange land
Like that little contrasting dot within
The swirling drops of yin/yang’s polarity.
But these two cultures, as complimentary
As they are, also divide the nation
Not just geographically;
East and West, North and South
But politically;
Left and Right, Socialist and Conservative
To some extend sexually;
Female and Male
And generationally;
Parents and Child.
It’s a conflict of cultures we all experience
But sometimes never grow out of
Or find the freedom from, and peace with.
The two after all are opposites
And the one wanting to tell you what to do
Is by definition more motivated to find the other
And tell them what to do…
It’s the world we live in,
But at some point it seems
It’s just not sustainable.
Things fall apart
When they aren’t maintained and kept organized,
Oh, and here come those who have volunteered
For that job!
Now order rules the day, and chaos
Is always better kept way over there.
There are no frontiers left to explore
And escape into anymore
Other than the inner realm of mind
Imagination, dreams and fantasies
Or an addiction, dysfunction and disease
- Plenty of chaos available in those -
Or better yet, a good book in the man cave,
A quiet sit on the cushion
Or walk in the woods…
Something, anything to give us the peace
We all need
From that nagging persistent voice,
Outside and within,
Telling us what it thinks we should do
While we just want to be left alone
To discover it on our own.
(3/8/25)
Freedom,
Written: by Tom Wright
1/24/03
The first draft
had it's inauguration at Calvary.
Jesus, being classified 4-A,
shed His blood to make men free.
He didn't die because he wanted to,
but realized, the situation required a sacrifice.
Since that time, when freedom has been tested,
good men have come forth and paid the price.
The payment required, always the same, blood.
Veterans don't make this sacrifice
for the sake of being called heroes.
Some things are done because they're right.
Your Country calls, and you gallantly answer the call.
I wonder, in the spoiled generation which now exists,
if the call goes out, will few, or any, answer?
Attitudes today, seem to be, not my generation,
let someone else do it, as they exercise their right to protest.
They seem content to live as parasites, on the bodies of the fallen.
What if, in the beginning,
Jesus, had chosen a deferment, burned his draft card, ran,
or marched in protest, saying let someone else do it?
We would have no hope.
I leave you with this thought,
A Freedom Not Worth Fighting For,
Is A Freedom Not Worth Having.
Real men cowboy up.
Power that is born, infused, and energized with anticipation and expectation is a promise.
Reinforcing that power with authority and validity is the name or person behind the promise.
Optimism abounds as we become more attuned and sensitive where there is a presence of promise.
Mediocrity, assembly-lined, rubber-stamped, and 'sameness' mentalities fade where there is a promise.
Individual initiative and positive attitudes are greatly enhanced when and where there is a promise.
Sacrifices become far less burdensome, and delayed pleasures are acceptable when there is a promise.
Every effort is made to excel and great acts of courage are realized when there is a word of promise.
052820PSCtest, Promise Poetry, Silent One
This 6 liter hard candy girl
tickles my eyes and curls my toes.
Makes me dance to music I can’t feel.
Sends me where I’ve never been before,
on a tour
of Big Time, Small Town, Milky Way Heaven,
wearing clumsy sneakers that reek of old cliches
and humming sad tunes from all my yesterdays.
Don’t sit and weight for your bowels to move
lost in the groove caused by your life’s last fall.
Get up and do it again.
Well, perhaps it’s different now, I can’t tell:
We’ve all been to Heaven of one kind or another.
We’ve all seen our own brand of Hell
and I can tell
that walking down the road together might be good.
I might understand you better,
might be understood.
But Gee,
what kind of picture does love really paint
with brushes of passion and canvas that aint
really flat.
Well, just put on your traveling hat
come along for the ride.
Cause Man
Cause Baby
Cause Geeesh
I ain’t got nuthin to hide.
Maybe you got your own kinda dreams to share
about some hunk of six digit brand of Macho Care.
Prize pupils starin’ back at you
with guns still smokin’
and pot shots making swiss cheese outa your ROMANCE.
Maybe you learned how to dance
the hard way
banana peels taped to the sides of your skates
and fish eyes staring out of
all of your restaurant plates.
And maybe your hair has lost its sheen
or lost you completely
and gone where its never been
without you.
Well what else is new?
We all gotta tune
of one kind or another
and we all learned to dance from
a sister or brother
and whether we walk with a bounce
or a cane
we all been caught sometime out in the rain
and it aint nuthin new
it’s only me.
and it’s only you.
We start off soft, open and delicate
Like a new born babe that takes in love
We too, take in all that surrounds us
However, Little by little walls start to be built
The more we care, the worse it stings
As we experience disappointments, betrayals, hurts and fears
We start to see these higher walls appear
Before long we adapt to this new identity
The “I don’t give a fudge” is now what we believe
This tasteless shell meant to be worn through torrential rain
Has become a character flaw in which we now proclaim
Everything slides off this stern hard cover
We forget what’s inside and begin to not bother
With what we really feel and who we really are
For the scrapes engraved on are backs
Are seen simply as just another battle scar
But as we get older, the world seems to grow colder
And are attitudes have become increasingly bolder
The lie that’s in motion
Is that this "strength" is our notion
But that can’t possibly be true,
For we never really grew,
All along there was never any healing,
Because healing requires a person to have feeling.
By: Sabina Nicole
Inspired by all my children who tell me daily “ They don’t give a Fudge”
Expressions of my concerns for you, pulling you close to me but despite that you continue
to sleep on me from your journey of the unaccountable. A road to seek your individuality you often express, We took our
hands in sacrament we both said we do now
it seems you get so agitated and tell me you're
tired of this lifestyle.
Have you lost the faith you once possessed?
Am I a mind reader? You keep your frame of mind bottled up for whichever reasons today, yesterday, tomorrow you're persistently showing me your variants of your different faces and mental attitudes, No i'm not questioning myself, am I of dispossession of
you releasing your inner fears and tell me so
What I did do differently that I don't do now?
Lean towards me my child and these situations for I am the way, truth and light, I am
a trusting spirit and let no one take away your faith towards me.
I'll never forget how
she cornered me
outside the lecture hall
with her downcast eyes,
looking so respectful.
I thought women were
supposed to look
just like that.
I spent evenings in her company.
She made me supper of beans and greens.
Ellen was studying nutrition.
In my mind it wasn't a high profession.
She was a practical person
with concrete attitudes.
But there was a twist to her,
a sadness that called for
my special talents.
Sitting at her table
became a staple of my life.
It was only when I developed
a tenderness toward her that things changed.
She stood at the cabinet drawer
looking for needle and thread.
I came up behind her,
suddenly driven by a gush
of something physiological.
I touched her hand.
She withdrew alarmingly.
Lesbianism was illegal in those days.
Ellen's partner was a butch named Maxine.
She called her Max.
I would be an appearence.
Not my charm
but my availability
made her wait for me.
People always look to lay blame
It's your fault, I have this problem
you could have been, more like your brother
you make the choices, that determine your life
Yet in truth, it's more like percentages
To say, that parents have no effect on children
Is a lie, the way we talk to our kids, affects development
yet children steal, children take drugs,
Children also make decisions, that affect their lives
most mothers, don't put drugs in the hands of their child,
yet some do, some parents have drug problems,
some parents, teach their children to take drugs
To say that your life is only about your choices, is wrong
but your attitude and choice's, do affect your life,
but where do we get out attitudes from,
some is developed within the self,
Children decide what they like,
a child watching, people on television, jump bikes
can think, that's great, that's what I want to do,
so television, can impact on the attitude of the child,
Friends can encourage the child to take drugs,
friends can encourage the child to steal,
friends can have an effect, on the attitude of the child,
how many of you, have sat and talked with a friend,
attempting to change their attitude,
A child learns from it's parents, it's teacher, it's friends
and from themselves, we think for ourselves,
we choose to believe and not believe, what people tell us,
a child on the street, with no parents,
decided to study at university, reading in doorways
she changed her life, with her attitude,
parents can teach children to use drugs,
But the child, can also decide to stop taking the drugs,
and get an education, life is about percentages,
parents do affect, the lives we have, with what they teach,
nothing is black and white,
yet you also affect, your life, you and only you, have control,
you can walk away from parents, friends and everyone else,
but you can't walk away from yourself,
today tomorrow and the next day, you can be there for yourself,
you can learn, to improve your education,
you can learn, to make life more exciting,
you can go skydiving,
you can find love,
You can overcome your anger,
you can learn, to care about other people,
you can improve your sense of humour,
and turn your life, into one, where you have fun
though winter
is here,
we can’t afford
to chill;
the progress made
is too dear
and we must continue
to build…
no matter the level
of snow,
no matter the amount
of ice,
we must always remain
on the go
for those who have paid
the price
ensuring our black lives matter
in this political ice
we can’t have another winter
of discontent
with our liberation again frozen
in frigid time;
the loud cry was clearly heard—
we’ve been sent—
can’t afford to be caught again
in a frigid bind…
so stoke the fire of courage and faith
and keep it hot…
keep plowing heated hope that’s warm
and great…
keep dumping cold apathetic icy attitudes
in the melting pot…
the hot soup of our fueling audacious hope
we must continue to heat.
Confession and admission
sometimes resembles near about the same
So what do I name for a deed
I did earlier when I was young
A girl loved me much and I too
but neither I met her nor she in any day
She knew I am a married man
her style attitudes attracted me
I knew there's no sin to love
so I loved her much very much simply
Many years gone on the way
I told her indirectly about me
that I am helpless can do nothing
After a long period she is now married
I admit that I still love her really
I confess that I lost her valuable time for love