Long Barring Poems
Long Barring Poems. Below are the most popular long Barring by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Barring poems by poem length and keyword.
No secret the Don did abrogate,
his strict ban barring employees to acclimate
themselves, to live within United States
legal tender, and accommodate
themselves comfortably anonymous,
though "NOT FAKE," but accurate
reliable, trustworthy, et cetera
resources who did activate
my awareness, his hired hands receive adequate
pay, (perhaps greater than minimum wage),
despite the fact he does vehemently administrate,
adulterate presidential decrees, and thus
passively advocate, those supposed:
intruders, marauders, and pillagers
(rapists thrown in for good measure),
thus being party to affiliate
with contrary doctrine makes
him more than a flagrant hypocrite
since such migrant fiasco does aggravate
me as well as innocent lives that aggregate
within a country, whose motto rather than alienate
purportedly offered sanctuary:
"Give me your tired, your poor,
your huddled masses
yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse
of your teeming shore."
No excessive effort needed to insulate,
expedite and ameliorate
the woeful plight of ordinary peoples,
whose culture club, those very
governments aim to annihilate
driving a figurative wedge (gee),
I decided to annunciate
(a spurious whim), and suspensefully anticipate
if affection toward asylum seekers will arise
decrying duplicitous action (exhibited by
commander in chief), undoubtedly
other citizens do not appreciate
(minus the bajillion dollars purposelessly
allocated to erect a skyhigh wall,
when more humanely appropriate
measures beg attention at
less expense I aver and approximate
and avoid unfairly incriminating, but to arbitrate
(with some degree of justice) pitted
toward migrants flagrant human rights violation,
those in power arrogate,
and wield for the luxury, exploitation and convenience
of those wealth mongers, who fail to articulate,
how when families got rent asunder fallout does asphyxiate
the human species in toto (including
Dorothy, Cowardly Lion, Tin man and Straw man).
I can breathe when I go to your parlor
Through your smile, verbose speech,
Snow white teeth, fleshy skin, sweating
I can breathe thoroughly, coz love sheer
I can breathe when I go to the fresh nature
Hearing birds chirping, walking under the
Cloudy shadow, hearing river’s rhythm
With fountain falling norm I breathe fair
But I can’t breathe when I go through myself
Where I find varied customs of discrimination
Where I make an abode of hatred, vengeance
Barring love where I care so-called patrician pelf
I’m breathless in the reign of apartheid humanity
Breathless I’m dead alive to take taste my destiny
© Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
30/01/2023
A need for acceptance in each and everyone
To be part of something special in our lives
Feeling a sense of belonging when day is done
Look forward to greeting the world when morning arrives
Affiliation brings self-respect, an inner pride
Sometimes prejudice and bigotry reveal their fangs
There is no peace, no hope when you hurt inside
One more reason why sometimes our kids join gangs
We are one people, one race living on this earth
No one should feel unaccepted anywhere
Each human being should know their worth
Then hatred would no longer be the cross we bear
When we can understand what is right and wrong
When we have complete acceptance barring none
Then we can live the dream we've had for oh so long
Man can lay down his weapons, the battle done.
“Restoring beauty from decrepitness
fulfills the heart with treasured happiness.”
_by Poet
Decrepit was a table we once owned,
part of our living room so long ago,
left in the home, my Dad, in time, had sold.
After my Mom had passed, he let it go
with other matching pieces, later sold
by the new owners, barring this one piece
left at the curbside, mixed with other trash.
I saw this, and my heart could find no peace.
Dilapidated, shabby, and decayed
our antique table, which my Mom adored,
was left unguarded in a leaky shed-
abandoned and exposed- so poorly stored.
I placed it in my trunk and drove away
to meet a friend with fine restoring apt.
I knew he'd make it look as good as new;
decrepit to a polished look, adapt.
It soon appeared as I remembered it;
restored into a lovely work of art.
I do embrace it as my mother's gift.
This heirloom has returned to never part.
Rays of a warring star where the eclipse
Trying for his dune by the sands of the lighter eye
Kaleidoscope into which the opus
Right into night the stallions of colossal strike
And among the night lovers
Between the prismatic mare
A small trace to come to render
The array of less than fonder tears
For the belly of the sun is most in leisure
Where the velvet cast upturns the rain
Utmost to the lifting homage
The barring of the telling tie
Very close as comfort would hurry garnets in the snow
A feline so mystique where dreams collide with night
So nature along all boughs of love
For smitten in the shadows of the day
I used to think about the times we had.
I would dwell on it and then end up sad.
Because those days were one of the happiest of mine.
But you know what they say, everything good leaves with time.
If it was meant to last then you would have stayed.
Because God’s plan is perfect in every single way .
As long as I live I’ll look fondly on my past.
Enjoying the memory’s, knowing life moves on so fast.
Because before I know it I’ll be old and turning gray.
And I’ll look happily on this moment remembering today.
For what happens today will be a memory tomorrow.
So I will try to stay happy and forget all my sorrows.
This life of mine always moves along too fast .
Making my happiest days only something of the past.
For as new days come barring smiles and hugs.
The yesterdays go leaving only memories of love.
Rejection chain reaction
New Born Male Child
A babe suffering during while
A Mother who wanted her son to die
Heaven’s intervention rise
The new born experienced Asthma, Yellow Jaundice and Malnutrition
The birth weight way below normal circumstances
Life surrounding was uncertain
Doctors are given up hope
Assurance was no cope
Doctors calculated that the babe will only live to 7 in longevity
They told the family to prepare for a funeral and not become attached, but if I lived on it would be God’s will
The Doctors suggested that I put in a Foster Home, but my Grandparents stepped in
Foster Home ruled out
Fast forward through the years, the babe grew up to a teenager of 17 and beyond
The Male teenager spend many weekends with his mother who didn’t want him
The Mother often said she wanted a Girl
No fault on my part, I just became the end product what God wanted me to be
She would cuss and chastise the son for no apparent reason
It was always criticism and negativity that came from the mother to the son
There was definitely a wall of a barrier between the mother and son with love nowhere to be found
The son was blamed for his mother not marrying the internal father
How does a child who didn’t ask to be born being the problem?
The Yellow Jaundice had changed the pigmentation of skin to Caucasian, but that was only briefly when I was born
To this day, the son feels no love and doesn’t extend love to his mother
There used to be a lot of anger and bitterness, but since has been released
Carrying plenty of tension throughout the years
The son prayed to the Lord in honesty in stating he didn’t love his mother
The Lord’s response, “Just respect her”
There were times the son hated himself thinking it was a mistake in him being born
There was even a thought of suicide attempt
A Mother who is not even proud of what her son who is independent, Graduated from college and Self-Alliant has become
The son will always believe a mother wanted to kill her son while she was barring with all her smoking, and stated quote “I would of had an abortion done when abortions weren’t even heard of back then
Yet, a son who is ever proud and achieved greatness in life under the Lord’s eyes.
A child's swing, propelled by laughs and giggles,
arcs into the air: reaching for the sky.
And as chains chafe the bark of an old oak
flashbacks of my youth begin streaming by.
Emerald: colors an evergreen hedge,
bestowing tranquility to the scene.
And reds, yellows, purples, and pinks abound
where clusters of wildflowers offset green.
Wild roses, tangled in the undergrowth,
dispense a sweet, fragrant scent all around.
And as lilac bushes sway in the breeze,
violet petals confetti the ground.
A pair of Mallard ducks scurry away
on a pond with a silver mirrored sheen.
And barring a picture of paradise,
this is the most tranquil place that I've seen.
A scarlet sun bleeds, as daylight departs:
slowly retreating from Twilight's attack.
And flowing, like a billion bleeding hearts,
crimson rivers color the edge of black.
When the pain of betrayal is laid out
for the perusal of the world:
reality devastates dreamers,
as it sinks in.
Love cannot be granted:
it can only be accepted or rejected.
And there are no simple answers
or shortcuts: past the pain or shame
love may leave in its wake: if it moves on.
Truth confronts lies and false hopes
in their totality;
with a broken heart.
And lust's empty promises
roll off the tongue,
as they drift quietly into memory:
slipping into oblivion without making a sound.
A wounded soul is slow to heal:
for forever feelings, fester,
within subconscious dreams.
You may come to grips with your fear:
however, the pain lingers.
And so, you wall off your heart:
barring love from ever entering it again.
Windy sunny funny days in hurry
In my home I dine and slept in merry
One day from blue landed on my terrace
Lonely dove came ill and still to scare us.
Not a vet to consult in this dark time
Like a drunkard tripping falling at times
When I lend my helping hand for his lift
Angry murmur heard I while he makeshift.
Like a waiter waited with his grand food
Not a stir or happy face my guest stood
No grain no drink he made for four long days
Little dove saint kept on barring my prays.
Prying peeping praying for his prime life
Hearing, stretching wings he fly heaven safe.
Honorable Mention in STRAND NO 730,any theme,any form Poetry Contest sponsored by Brian Strand