Long Buckle down Poems
Long Buckle down Poems. Below are the most popular long Buckle down by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Buckle down poems by poem length and keyword.
Hurricane by any name is a dreaded beast
Monster winds guide every turn and twist
Clouds cluster in enormous darker shapes
Heated moisture dominates form they take
Dressed in cloudy eye-wall winds rotate
High gusting speeds foretell its arrival date
As eye of the storm approaches a landfall
Communities begin making evacuation calls
Stocking food and water families buckle down
Gas lines form as people begin to leave town
Death and destruction mount as storm lands
Streets and homes quickly become wetlands
Emergency shelters crowd beyond capacity
FEMA takes charge with speed and tenacity
Congress passes legislation to grant funding
Affected folks are unsure of their standing
Trash piles up burying childhood memories
Cleanup begins without hope of recoveries
Donations flow to charities like Red Cross
Insurance may recoup some of storm loss
They arrive sequentially in alphabet names
Leaving untold shattered lives in their wake
Placed 1st
September 9, 2017
Hurricanes
Sponsor: Julie Rodeheaver
It used to be that many dreamed.
At least that is the way it seemed.
But that was more than a few years ago now.
A good life in which we all starred;
a house with fence around the yard:
The dream which the hard-working man could strive for. . .
Chorus:
We can dream on; we can dream on.
We can dream on; we can dream on.
We only had to go to school,
Be sure to follow every rule,
like paying toward our own security plan
with special taxes all must pay.
They rise; we pay them anyway,
believing we’ll get by in our great gold years
Chorus:
We can dream on; we can dream on. . .
In years when wars were being fought,
The dream, still strong, was being sought,
by Veterans returning to their loved ones.
Prosperity came after war,
for everyone kept wanting more,
so things improved, at least as I recall them. . .
Chorus: We can dream on; we can dream on. . .
The kids who went to college would
then graduate and as they should,
could work in their profession, raise their families.
Eventually they’d have a house
and growing older with their spouse,
look forward to retirement, their home paid for. . .
Chorus: We can dream on; we can dream on. . .
Retirement funds in just one year
ran dry and CEO’s, I hear,
got bonuses while laying off their workers.
Young graduates cannot find work
and horrors round each corner lurk
for those who lose their jobs and source of income.
Chorus: We can dream on; we can dream on. . .
Today we have to buckle down
and try hard not to show a frown
while searching for a job that pays less money
while politicians talk their talk
but don’t know how to walk the walk,
and sit there making sure they get their raises!
Chorus: We can dream on; we can dream on. . .
The Congress just keeps playing dumb
And half the country has gone numb
while stressing over what’s in store for us now
because of lies that we were told,
like how we’d live when we got old.
“Dream on” I say (but not in Mama’s same tone).
Chorus: We can dream ON; We can dream ON. . .
For the HALLELUJAH Contest of Frank H.
“Mind Fist”
by Positive Mark
Protection from a demon or protection from the chaos?
You’re smudging for a cleansing or you prepping for a seance?
We don’t purchase insurance after we done wrecked our car,
so why wait for calamity to unmask who we are?
I always harp on shadow work, ‘cause that’s what gets me through it.
No progress will be made unless I buckle down and do it.
Traversing through the underworld, to sort through buried trauma.
Relationships,
The times I quit,
My issues with my Momma.
What waits for me in shadows that I need to understand
before my spirit finds the light to be a better man?
And when the magic spells work, and I find that brighter day,
should I dip my quill and lead the way,
or bag my goods and go away?
Mind Fist
What pride and joy for me to delight,
albeit vicariously upon receiving invite,
sans commencement at
Redmond Proficiency Academy
on May twenty second at six o'clock at night,
which arrangement to Maurice silly revel
from afar, viz pomp and circumstances quite
emotional, ah...I can feel exuberance
listening to Sir Edward
Elgar - Pomp and Circumstance
March Number 1 - right
amidst envisioned glorious sight,
this prodigal beloved
young lady Marleigh Dunning, aye write
a precious prized progeny,
with modesty all agleam
no doubt with beauty, she twill beam
dazzling full house, electrifying audience
asper her due smarts, i.e. creme de la creme
top honors, and accolades galore
relishing hearty applause, and teary eyes
left for this estranged bro attempting to dream,
how proud such progressive parents
Andy (by the way belated happy birthday),
and Shari dear sister my apology, harried self esteem
(mine), who nonetheless takes stock,
how promising success story doth appear
will take said niece far and wide,
which whiz kid will quick buckle down and clear
as pitch perfect cerulean sky will engineer
experiential opportunities, whose cerebral gear
far and above this average hear
suit uncle late in his existence
admires brilliant storied
future awaiting thee
acquiring an equitable salary
persevering toward passion,
vis a vis art history
with a minor in chemistry,
abundant wit and wisdom
so blessed born free
to choose bajillion options
soon to matriculate at Ivy
League school, perhaps
becoming rich and famous
as hordes of paparazzi
furiously jostle and elbow
to savor opportunity
as demure, genteel, as ideal
exemplar of female human poise -
ladies and gentlemen the renown Marleigh,
whose shining moment under klieg lights,
this financially strapped poet
unable to rejoice in person, qua special day
duet to a pinched finances
arising when Hyundai Sonata,
thrice necessitated monetary outlay!
Today the kids go back to school;
Employees head to work.
The new year’s not the greatest time
For anyone to shirk.
Vacation days are over;
Just the memories remain
And from procrastination,
Everybody must refrain.
A span of weeks needs filling up
With classes, chores and such,
Appointments, meetings, homework, tests;
It sometimes seems too much.
Yet right around the bend, there’ll be
A holiday or stretch
Of days when school is closed, so now
It doesn’t pay to kvetch.
Just buckle down and dive right in
To join this brand-new mix
Of all that you have planned to do
In 2026!
sitting in front of the toilet throwing up
everything is spinning
everything is throbbing
when i get up, i feel like my body has bricks instead of bones
i go to lay down, but the pain, the nausea, and the dizziness has me all messed up
i begin to convulse again
i then jump up and zoom back to the bathroom
i made it just in time
this time the contents are all clear
this too is not good
i buckle down and drive to the emergency room
i find out that i have some type of contagious stomach bug
it all has me wanting to swallow a flyswatter
instead i head home and follow the doctor's orders
it is a good thing that i am off for the next three days
my bed is gonna be my bestest friend
my phone will be resting right along with me
all curtains will be closed
all knocks on my door will be intentionally ignored
i am determined to get my rest to wellness
He had fondly decided to do his best
And win her love- his warm,cute choice ;
He flew about her, in chivalry and poise,
Who pecked and offered him to build a nest
That should be all of comfort and pride,
Besides being surely safe and compact ;
Beating amorous wings he receded with tact :
It should be pompous ; she won't deride
Nor ever in any way, the cosy love decline ,
As he would truly buckle down and align
Hovering about the nearby greenery and foliage,
He perched finally on an entangled branch,
Watching the waters running through a ranch ;
From the dawn to the dusk he did engage
His spirits and effort to search and port,
Shreds and patches of fronts and grass;
Every flight secured his hope and strength across ;
And then in all came up a neat little fort,
The emotive achiever made a careful scrutiny
Contented that the nest would house his destiny.
Fluttering around the proud preener, he did woo
In soft twitters and impulsive moves explicit ,
Of flapping wings and the beak came the tweet ;
The preview began without much ado....
Just a perch on the nest shaped well
And a few choice leaps here and there ...
She shrugged and fluttered away in the air
Leaving the poor proposer in a pell-mell
Yet was there a helpless humble chase
To seek the hopeful way out of the maze
The crest-- fallen darer with lost regard
And vanity, wrathfully began to crack --
Peeling and undoing every minutely twined pack
And pull down- his love laboured hard ,
With perches and hops crazy and anger agile;
The torn naive mass from the foliage nook,
Fell into the nonchalant water of the brook;
The puny loser's flight was fretful and fragile;
Snug warmth empowers and accomplishes a task
While cold pride crushes and sticks a mask.
It’s May 18th, 2022. I’m poised, alone, heart pounding, in front of my laptop, waiting for courage, my finger hovering over the return key, like a child hoping the timing of my keystroke will bring me luck.
I took this summer off - which drove my mom absolutely CrAzY. “You CAN’T!” she’d said last month, only to be overruled by my Grandmère. Now I’m home for summer break and tonight she’s flush with exasperation.
“You should have applied for a dean’s fellowship,” she said, her voice rising as she rubs her hands together, as if scrubbing for an operating room procedure, “and a summer research position!” She’s practically twirling with suppressed emotion.
I get why she’s upset. She only goes “deep end” when she's worried about my future. She knows what’s needed to get a medical school slot in 2025 like other moms know their favorite recipe - after all, she’s done this twice before.
Leong’s upstairs, avoiding this family scene. When I described my family expectations as “hustle culture,” to my roommates, they all understood - we’re that much alike.
Step (my stepfather) is trying to de-escalate and calm us (her) down. “Look,” he says, holding up his hands like someone talking down a gunman, “NEXT summer she’ll buckle down, get in more volunteer hours and get a dean’s research fellowship” he says, sliding his eyes to me. I nod “ok” almost imperceptibly. “It’s ok to start grinding sophomore year - that’s what I did.”
OOOO! She turned to him and if looks could kill, he would have exploded like someone in a Tarantino movie.
By some psychic grace my Grandmère chose that moment to call. Step and I fled the den like it were on fire, going our separate ways to halve the chance of being followed.
In my dark room, lit only by the light of my MacBook, a quiver runs through me, and I finally press return. My grades for Spring semester - and Freshman year come up. My eyes water and I relax back against my chair when I see “Dean's List.”
I smile to myself, and slowly, fiercely I clench my fist with a “YESS!" As I postulate my victorious reprieve.
Next week I am college bound
An education is what I seek
Further knowledge to be found
In my quest I will not be meek.
School days for me has long since passed
For out of school I became a mother
On my list education became last
For me the choice was none other.
These are not the days of yesteryear
No having fun and going to school dances
For failure is what I fear
So no time for silly romances.
Time to study hard and long
College professors will take no excuse
For homework being late or how an answer is wrong
It will still be my neck in the noose.
This time around there is no marching band practice
All my spare time devoted to study
I may seem prickly like a cactus
But no time for me to be a buddy.
Time to buckle down and move ahead
No longer with my high school sweetheart
No more dragging feet full of lead
Time to give my life a brand new start.
No more jobs...I desire a career
My heart beats double time
But please do not jeer
School at my age is not a crime.
Bring on English and Math
Sorry my dear dear friends
I am following a new path
Time lost with them... will later make amends.
Time for the thinking cap
No worries of being a fool
Even though there is a huge time gap
Since the days of high school.
Knowledge is power
Education is key
No need to be dour
Law is the field for me.
For John Loving III Education game...Nara Shevanna you are next dear
Honest
Be honest with your feelings
They should not be neglected
If you deny truth to yourself
Won’t your spirit be affected?
Be real, do not put up a front
Pride should not be a factor
Neither should shame, not even fear
Let virtue be your inspector
Find out what’s keeping you awake
Confront that what is haunting
Intimidation gains more strength
When things are viewed as daunting
Find strength within, don’t buckle down
The war is in your head
Why listen to what tears you down?
Think positive instead!
The things that make us strong and bold
Should be self-cultivated
Why do you still allow yourself
To be underestimated?
Be kind, be patient, show more love
To the person that you are
A little understanding
Will get you very far
Be honest therefore, to yourself
Not just to everyone else
Don’t listen to your inner self
When only lies it tells
The way you feel, the way you think
The things you say and do
View them as recognition of
The person that is you.
Wendy Nipas