Long Bother Poems
Long Bother Poems. Below are the most popular long Bother by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bother poems by poem length and keyword.
Ms. Jealous girl thinks she's better than me
Why should you be mad at me for the things I can do?
I live my own life and do my own things
Why are you so jealous of my life and such?
Ms. Jealous girl wanted to where I go and who I chat to
It is none of your besswax what I do and don't bother to ask.
I am sick and tired of you telling others that you're jealous of me
And sick of you telling my man things that you made up about me.
Ms. Jealous girl stop asking the girls at work if I'm there or not
Because I had it with you and ever since you left, I don't want you coming around
starting trouble with me.
I don't want to speak to you or see you at all and leave me al alone.
Ms. Jealous girl, you're not welcome at my home and see my friends there
Because we all don't want to be your friend.
Lies and Lies and I was sick of it, really from you.
You got mad when I went out drinking with friends from work
You got mad at me when my man and I went out or away for a while
You got mad at me when I wasn't scheduled for work and yelled at me
You got at me for things I can do, even cleaning around the house is one thing
that you never ever did in your carppy life.
Ms Jealous girl, stop calling here at the house, cuz your ex Kevin doesn't want
you back and not allow to step foot in the house
You call crazy hours of the night just to get a hold of him but he also has a life
and you get jealuos at him going bar hopping with his buddies and you got mad
when he goes out with my man.
Ms Jealous girl, if you come to see me at work and start things with me,
All I can say to you is this,
"You have been totally JEALOUS of me for the things I can do and where I go and
leave me alone. No one at the house want to hang with you."
Ms Jealoud girl, you have your own things to do and don't worry what Iam doing
next week, next month, or next year. I have better things to do.
Ms Jealous Girl, let my pals and I do our own things and don't call my place when
I go out.
Ms Jealous Girl, everyone is sick of your lies and you gotta stop that or everyone
around you won't want to be with you.Ms Jealous girl, want to know her name?
Her name is Tiffany and she is known as the
Ms.Jealous girl cuz she is STILL JEALOUS OF ME FOR DUMB REASONS AND
SHE NEEDS TO STOP BEING LIKE THIS TO ME.
Ms Jealous Girl, I have a life and better things to do and screw you!
Form:
Anxiety about what I might think preceded me
As I sat on the stool in the middle of my living room
Ready to think about who knows what,
I relaxed for a moment and then closed my eyes.
Gratitude and peacefulness were my first feelings.
I smiled inside thinking about how literal Ingrid had taken me.
He remembered that I intended to write at 3:00 a.m.
As the clock ticked, Ingrid kept time for me…
Fear crossed my mind next, afraid of my own thoughts,
What they might be. Nightmares. Horrors.
Repressed experiences dreaded.
But thankfully, the ringing in my head saved me.
At least for that moment…
A few things slipped in. The Jeffery McDonald murders
That took place when I was stationed at Ft. Bragg, N.C.
The horror had anguished me on an off over the years.
Then, I heard the crickets again. Thankfully.
Next, a hit and run accident that was reported in the news years ago
Flashed through my mind…anxiety from Army days.
It had happened on a road we sometimes traveled.
Fear, reality check, and cricket sounds followed.
Yes, it is that cricket sound that I enjoy so much.
It took me to the natural world in all its beauty.
Little seeds germinating in my sunroom...
Crickets outside making their noise; I smiled again.
And the crickets in my head chirped.
I was thinking that this isn’t so bad after all.
I have learned to find happiness inside myself
Then, Ingrid said, “Time’s up.”
I felt relieved.
© March 1, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
My DARE: Dane, you picked Dare* I dare you to sit in the middle of your living room...
(on a chair if you have toooo!) Close your eyes, and feel for 5 minutes... (you will need a
stop watch that alert you when the 5 minutes are up. During them 5 minutes, you have
to feel everything, allow your strong emotions to feel. Even if you have little one's are
running or your cat is purring at your feet. Don't allow it to bother you. You have to
concentrate and find that one spot in the back of your mind. The part that digs real
deep into every feeling we forget is there. After the 5 minutes are up... Sit in the spot
where you write, and write for 10 minutes, Write about every thought that passed
through your mind in a poetic way, sad~happy~ mad, crazy.. and so on... Take us deep
into your mind... Thank you..pd
Confession…I wrote more than 10 minutes…time slipped up on me.
The morning soars with skylarks singing
o'er the greening meadow and the pliant pasture,
the ocean sighing, gulls aloft on wings of prayer.
A sudden shower would see me running
fancy free between the rain drops,
I cried 'Excelsior!' and set the hills alive;
I skittered, happy, crisp and clear,
like God's first measure of a holy hymn.
The air alive with songs of praise,
the gentle winds a sacred message,
His grand prescription like a dream
that streamed out from the pillows of the heavens.
I liked to wander by the sea shore
skipping stones, disobeying laws of gravity,
as a lamb on shaky legs and tumbled freely without care,
'til gasping, I would stop to catch my breath.
The halcyon days of youth came true,
when I would race forever 'neath the tawny sun,
bedaubed in Autumn's blood, the flame
a blend of hues the likes of which
would make a young boy doubly blind,
and lead him into kingdoms where the battlefields
would blister scarlet, happy times
that made me see my childhood clearly.
The weather turned again, and shanties
high atop the hillside loomed like castles drifting
in the sea-blown mist, the noise of boats,
their nets pulled, nudging at the jetty.
From the sand the village was a hazy spectre,
the chapel steeple peeking like Rapunzel's lair,
her hair a daydream falling soft,
O fanciful imagination!
I thought to when my mother took my hand.
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
toys which we could ill-afford;
a Batman cape, a red fire engine.
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds,
loud, and mouthing their wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.
I never lost my youthfulness,
my joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times, in Jesus' presence.
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings, feel content
that tribulation never came to bother me.
A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth
to all men, greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet
while the village sleeps, and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping, perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow.
The morn's alive with skylarks singing
o'er the greening meadow and the pliant pasture,
the ocean sighing, gulls aloft on wings of prayer.
A sudden shower would see me running
fancy free between the rain drops,
I cried 'Excelsior!' and set the hills alive;
I skittered, happy, crisp and clear,
like God's first measure of a holy hymn.
The air alive with songs of praise,
the gentle winds a sacred message,
His grand prescription like a dream
that streamed out from the pillows of the heavens.
I liked to wander by the sea shore
skipping stones, disobeying laws of gravity,
as a lamb on shaky legs and tumbled freely without care,
'til gasping, I would stop to catch my breath.
The halcyon days of youth came true,
when I would race forever 'neath the tawny sun,
bedaubed in Autumn's blood, the flame
a blend of hues the likes of which
would make a young boy doubly blind,
and lead him into kingdoms where the battlefields
would blister scarlet, happy times
that made me see my childhood clearly.
The weather turned again, and shanties
high atop the hillside loomed like castles drifting
in the sea-blown mist, the noise of boats,
their nets pulled, nudging at the jetty.
From the sand the village was a hazy spectre,
the chapel steeple peeking like Rapunzel's lair,
her hair a daydream falling soft,
O fanciful imagination!
I thought to when my mother took my hand.
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
toys which we could ill-afford;
a Batman cape, a red fire engine.
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds loud,
and mouthing their wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.
I never lost my youthfulness,
my joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times, in Jesus' presence.
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings, feel content
that tribulation never came to bother me.
A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth
to all men, greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet
while the village sleeps, and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping, perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow!
MY CRAZY CREATURES
This rhyme's about creatures of various sorts.
Creatures with fangs, hairy bellies and warts.
They cause lots of mischief all day long.
Mum always blames me but I’ve done nothing wrong.
These creatures are crazy. They’re not what you'd think.
Turn over the page. Find out more in a blink...
The first is Belcher. He really does stink.
He lives in the toilet and plays in the sink.
He likes to be naughty when nobody's in.
He cannot be found when you're searching for him.
Dad always moans when he sees all the stains.
I tell him it’s Belcher, “He’s done it again!”
Two thinks that she’s pretty, but really she’s not.
She has warts on her face and is covered in spots.
She has a big bottom and six hairy feet.
Her name is Ghastly. She’s really not sweet.
She steals mum’s lipstick and paints her mouth red.
She tries on her dresses, throwing clothes on the bed.
As soon as mum enters she’s so quick to flee.
I guess that’s why my mum always blames me.
Number three is so quiet but I know that he’s there.
He smudges my face and puts glue in my hair.
I call him Hush Monster as he follows me round,
Putting mud on my clothes without making a sound.
I aim for the paper but the pen marks my face.
Mum looks at me glumly, "You're such a disgrace."
I try to tell her that it just wasn't me.
"It was Hush monster, Mummy. Why can't you see?"
The worst of them all is a creature called Doom.
I'm always in trouble when he's in the room.
He often burps loudly when we're eating our food.
Mum frowns with disgust. "Now, don't be so rude!"
He cackles with laughter whilst spilling my drink.
"Be careful," shouts dad. "Don't you ever think?"
You may well wonder why he's never been caught.
Well…he's the size of a pea and he’s very well taught.
He rolls under the sofa after doing things bad,
And I look to my parents who seem really mad.
These crazy creatures I like the best.
I’m glad I could share them with you and the rest.
Belcher, Ghastly and a monster called Hush,
Then don't forget Doom. They all make me blush.
They live in my house and like to cause bother,
Driving everyone mad, especially my mother.
They’re experts in mischief. They get me in trouble.
Now I’ll tell you a secret that may burst your bubble.
Whilst these creatures are crazy it has to be said,
They don’t really exist, “They’re all in my head!”
This Christmas, I am moved by the names in the genealogy of Jesus. I find the Biblical genealogy of Israel and Jesus to be a very fascinating study. There are four named women in the genealogy of Jesus and one name referenced. They are TAMAR, Rahab, Ruth, and Mary: Bathsheba is referenced to as Urias' wife.
When one reads TAMAR's story*, there is the feeling that what she did about her situation was over the top, out of culture, way out of line, and out of the realm of Godliness. By the same token, if we put our feet in her shoes, during her time, we might feel the same as she did regarding her plight and how to remedy the situation. Her patience ran completely out, and she felt that her father-in-law Judah was not living up to his responsibility. However, she did not bother to appeal to a greater earthly authority, nor did she bother to consult with The Lord. She took matters into her own hands, and although her approach was deceitful, her outcome was acceptable to her.
Judah's verdict against her, by current human standards, seemed judgmental and harsh. But Tamar forced him to face the truth and to commute her sentence of death. TAMAR proved to be a force to be reckoned with.
Judah speaks to all of us who spend our lives seeking self-gratification and running rampantly in our reckless self-righteousness. TAMAR speaks volumes about taking matters into our own hands, seeking desperately to find a fix for what ails us. More often than not, such fantasy fixes end in failures, and we live with the consequences. Self-righteousness is often very subtle and is capable of wrapping itself around the best of us. It's the type that says, "If I was writing a Holy Book, there would not be space on my Holy pages for the likes of Judah and Tamar". As a human filled with flaws, flops, and failures of my own, I am most grateful for the grace of God that has been extended to me. Both Judah and TAMAR, by no goodness of their own, found themselves in the genealogy of 'The Christ" who presents Himself as the Savior of the whole world. That includes Judah, TAMAR, you, and me.
12042017PoSoupContest, Favourite Poem From December 2017, Julia Ward
*Genesis 38
The interrogation threatens to shudder like an earthquake
A long index of accusations spread out among the atmosphere like a blazing forest fire
Satisfaction, the officer and venomous umbrage, the criminal
Self-appreciation, the quiescent defense attorney with no right to be there
Misery, the boisterous dauntless prosecutor
The months of the annual calendar, the jury
Pain, the almighty judge
It’s a court case already divested from the defendant
Why should it not
Bother, why bother
Its past the millionth time in 216 divided by the jury
Satisfaction has seen countless rewards of capturing umbrage
Satisfaction has felt the boundless benevolence of glory
And foaming at the mouth, glowering with muffled respected fury
Sits umbrage, staring out blurred vision
Victimized in his own apperception
What’s the cost, the damage total; what has befell, befell reality
The anathema of fate or rather the favored affliction of fortune’s fool
Within a realm of possibility it may perceive to be both
A pebble laced with a thread thrown into grass only miles away
To be reeled right back in like a helpless fish on a line
The audacity, the audacity; oh just hush
Silence is golden and this silence is benevolent
Joy was once prevalent in the company of such disgrace umbrage reigned
Together they were serenity, a mixed graceful period of harmony
Such a song sung by dual owls in the presence of the lightened darkness of night
(sigh) …I can’t do this anymore
Make a world, create a story peacefully
Creating a plot circulating, tip-toeing around the issues placing bait in front of my eyes for me to take
What is wrong with me, my life
One word, a sharp enough blade to stab in the ankle to slaughter Achilles
In this case, me
The poet’s banishment, scourge creating a series of nine lashes
Still runs deep, refuses cessation
Proceeds to feed on every ounce of merriment to permeate through the cracks
Melancholy has produced to invade back in
What’s the cause this time for it to attack
A few simple words, reflection, swift defiance
the bruises upon the right appendage whispering, begging for more scars
FOR WHAT? ! ? ! ? ! ? !
Forget it….it’s nothing
Satisfaction has pardoned me, set me free
Umbrage, my twin has taken over me
To another bridge, we sit and sulk over a failed attempt at flight
Cause we willingly defy the right to say goodnight
For everyone that has been cheated on
For everyone that has been lied to
For everyone that has been hurt due to a dumb significant other
No need to see the doctor for being a victim of the relationship flu
I got the cure and this poem is dedicated to all of you
I was so good I was the best I can be
No that wasn’t good enough for you had to break my heart like u snapped a branch
off a tree
Its not that I was blind its just I wanted you to change to someone deep inside you
I see
Trying to be the helpful kind one in the end you were the one who decided to play
me
Deep down farther than the sea I loved you with all my heart and that’s a
guarantee but now its time for me to strike back and set you free
You can’t get mad at me trying to flip a table cemented to the ground
Acting as if I was the dog portraying me as "the rest" when you are the one that
needs to be sent to the pound
Your the one digging holes and burying bones in the dirt
Don’t stop now continue to flirt because hoes gone by hoes and by them I can’t be
hurt
I’m glad u practiced your game on me
You a liar yet you hate them
You a cheater yet you despise them
You say you not like the rest but your quest was in your bed with another guest
Don’t bother getting up and getting dressed let them lay there on your chest
I’ll be the mature one walk away with no contest
I must have been possessed to be with you but hey moral of the story *clap*
*clap* I’m impressed
It’s okay if you want to be a certified player I can sign off on your degree
You only needed one witness to prove all you can be
You are your own boss now and under you is an upcoming trainee
I’m sure they will pass with flying colors if their life you referee
Before you go you have something of mine in your pocket I dig for my key
This no longer belongs to you it has a return to sender and the address is assigned
to me
You a hoe, you a whore, you a ****, and yes guys can be them too
Yea you too cocky for your own good thinking of yourself as a tattoo
Naw baby your not you like an error on Microsoft word I just pressed undo
You were cute, you were nice, you were funny but now when I look at you it’s a
dirty view
You can beg, you can plead asking for me back you can even kiss my shoe
Just remember when my answer is no you can’t blame me when it was all you
(c) jeremy fennell
Wanting what I can’t have,
That seems to be my M.O.,
Why I keep doing it I’ll never know,
You’d think I’d understand that I can’t have it;
(Yeah yeah yeah,)
(Go ahead,)
(Make a blonde joke,)
(I’m not even blonde dumb ass;)
But no,
I still go on wanting it more and more,
I want what someone else has,
(Yes, I know,)
(****,)
(Shut up;)
I want what’s too far away,
I want what doesn’t want me,
I seem to want the impossible,
And then,
Outta the blue,
Something wants me,
And of course I get excited,
But then there’s luck I got,
Something always comes up,
And I always end up a day late and a buck short,
Story of my life,
It’s not just that it happens with something important,
No,
Of course not,
It’s with everything,
I can’t seem to get a break,
No matter how much time I have,
Or how many 20’s I got in my wallet,
It always ends up short;
(Yeah,)
(Go ahead,)
(Laugh it up,)
(I said short,)
(I know,)
(Smartass,)
(You aren’t helping my situation,)
(So just shut up,)
(I don’t care,)
(I’ve got bigger issues to deal with;)
Because I don’t seem to have enough of somethin’,
And lemme tell ya,
It ain’t fun not havin’ it;
(Not that you care,)
(You’re busy makin’ wise cracks,)
(Doesn’t really bother me though,)
(So get over yourself, a’ight?)
(Why am I even bothering?)
(I’m not writing this for you;)
I’m not writing this for anybody,
I’m just writing it,
Just putting my pen to paper,
And letting the ink write whatever comes to mind;
(That explains the ranting, eh?)
(Yeah,)
(Bite me,)
(I’m having enough problems without you,)
(So could ya just lay off for maybe five minutes?)
(Somehow I doubt that,)
(But one can always hope;)
It’s not my fault I come up short;
(And don’t even say it;)
I am who I am,
With or without whatever’s missing,
No,
Strike that,
Because if I had what was missing,
I wouldn’t be me now would I?
The thing I need,
Wants me without whatever’s missing,
But good luck finding that,
And we all know how my luck goes;
(That’s it exactly;)
A day late and a buck short,
Ahh the universe loves me;
(Don’tchya think?)
(What?)
(You don’t agree?)
(Can’t imagine why,)
(Well, I guess I’ll have to put up with you,)
(Lucky lucky me,)
(Nothin’ I can do about you;)
At least not now,
Not until I got an extra penny,
At least,
And I’m half an hour early.
It hasn't been long
Since I've been on this Earth
And left the place to have my life start
The people I've known
The ones who've all grown
They’re all changing now, they are
Going along their path
Going to college and having kids
Or gaining knowledge with their many friends
As I sit helpless and depressed
Dormant in my bed
While my time grows less and less
And it seems so clear I see
That everyone’s doing better than me
I work for a wage
Doing dirty jobs
They push me like a slave
I just apologize and nod
I only afford pay rent with the money I make
Things don’t get cheaper, and the income doesn’t change
Sometimes I go to parties
Meet many people who’ve known each other all for so very long
I stand around, I don’t know anyone
Don’t know why I would even come
I feel complex
But simple minded
Everyone seems to easily make friends
It’s not that I can’t put myself out there
Just feel like a bother interacting with them
As I sit alone in a chair
Drinking a beer, and fake smiling along
I could see, so plainly
Everyone is doing better than me
The more I explain myself
The worst I seem to come across
I seem to rub people wrong
And I always seem to feel lost
When I frown they say I look angry
When I smile they say I look creepy
When I look at them, they turn away from me
When I turn away, they think I’m high-and-mighty
When I say hello, they say goodbye
When I say goodbye, they ask why
People wonder why I can’t just talk to people
I feel like I’m the only one who thinks it’s normal
They think something is wrong with me
I’m not the only one who’s awkward around people they meet
I express myself in all the wrong ways
Because when I feel unhappy, that’s when I need aid
Whenever I feel happy, there’s nothing I need to say
And still I look around and see
That everyone is doing better than me
I want to grow up
But I don’t want to leave everything behind
Except for who I use to be, to everyone else I’m still that guy
I wish I had friends but I suck at conversation
I wish I had success, but I need help to make it happen
If I could be who I would like to be
I’d already be that person instead of being me
I know that when we die, well go to the same place
So it doesn't really matter who really won the race
But still it causes me to grieve
Because everyone I know
Everyone is doing better than me