Long Bystanders Poems
Long Bystanders Poems. Below are the most popular long Bystanders by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bystanders poems by poem length and keyword.
My friends are my family.
Except....they like me, they adore me, they say nice things about me.
My friends understand that in a writer's life, sometimes I ignore their
phone calls, their emails and their texts.
If my muse is on fire, I am not a good friend.
My friends are my lifeline. They are always lassoing me in,
to gently let me know I have gone too far, said too much, or said too little.
My friends are the people I can trust to keep
the outrageous things I say, in confidence and
if they have to share, I know they will use generalizations,
not saying the who of it.
My friends are the up-standers, not the bystanders.
Even if we disagree, we still respect each other, love
each other and hug each other big before and after
dinner.
My friends use fantastic, optimistic, adjectives to describe me and
all of their other friends.
My friend s introduce me to their other friends, so I have friends.
My friends jump and shout and twirl and tell their friends when something
good happens to me.
My friends stand by me, no matter how rudely my writer self treats them.
My friends are my family.
Written April 24th, 2018
As the river flows by my window, through valleys and hills,
the sound of its torrent, calms and stills
the churn and turmoil of bystanders standing on shore,
watching the current twist, toss, churn and soar.
The water glints as the sun puts gleam on its face.
Onward the river flows, in a long steady embrace.
As I look out through my window, watching it roll by
I hear the river murmur its gentle purr and sigh.
The river flows in sinuous meanders around each bend.
Taking its time it goes, ever so slowly, with no rush to descend
too quickly through its valleys so deep, mountains so tall,
savoring the journey, for timeless, everlasting recall.
Hostages kidnapped: casualties of war
After extorting pound of flesh
lifetime humiliation drummed into captives
hammering indelible nightmare
no amount of therapy can expunge.
Lifetime trauma inflicted perpetrators wage
dead bodies littered makeshift triage
death and destruction
exhibit super fresh killing fields,
where sally forth set pathmark
to abominable gut wrenching
ghastly hollow hellscape.
Haunting horrid macabre scenes assault,
batter, clobber, et cetera the senses
death construed as mutual
(of Omaha) collateral damage
fallout populated by zone of dead bodies
littering apocalyptic landscape
rendering spooky morbidly fascinating,
especially from safe vantage point
bajillion miles away
whereby yours truly
hunched over his Macbook Pro laptop
glanced the headlines without further delay
aid convoys moving into Gaza Strip
a tepid hip hip hooray
impossible mission for
overactive imagination of artist
or writer to capture bedlam and melee,
scaring up heavenly sight
for grim reaper soirée
repository for skull and crossbones
as arid (extra dry) winds hasten desiccation
whistling repartee (even from afar)
faintly resembling mourning of Zalay.
Countless hungry ill clad masses beg
the question regarding
purposefulness of mortal kombat
screaming in agony against cutthroat
belligerents who gleefully gloat
laying waste besieging
ship of state and emergency lifeboat
senselessly bombing spelling
likelihood for peace on earth remote
silencing the lambs and yellowthroat!
Methinks spouting protestation
against loosed strife,
courtesy demoniac *****sapiens
where talking heads strategize foo fighters
pointless exhalation of breath
sabotaging, shortchanging, siccing,
squashing, subjecting, et cetera
innocent bystanders ultimately hastening them/
they to untimely and unfair nasty,
shortish and brutal death
linkedin to personal choice of deity
and attendant religious shibboleth.
“Twas the night before Christmas and all through the malls
there was widespread confusion and hot, frenzied brawls.
Many shoppers were wanting the same bloomin’ gifts.
Desperation resulted in feud-level rifts.
There were four grandmas fighting for one preschool game.
Their ferocity made angry pit bulls look tame.
Jostling shoppers collided and bags hit the floor.
Their attempts to retrieve them caused head butts and more.
Loud confusion—“That’s mine!” “No, it’s mine!!”—could be heard.
Startled bystanders heard more than one naughty word.
Two old geezers that should have been home fast asleep
bumped into a tired Santa; all three muttered BLEEP.
When announcements “Ten minutes till close” hit their ears,
those who hadn’t found all they desired held back tears.
The wild nightmare soon ended, and tired folks went home,
knowing that no time soon, crowded malls they would roam.
All would vow, “NO MORE last -minute shopping for me!”
Christmas morning—well-rested— all smiles by the tree,
they remembered the monsters they’d been just last night
and rejoiced that those creatures were nowhere in sight!
November 22, 2018, entered in Joseph May's Night Before Christmas
contest
Devil's vengeful roar captures innocent
Exhale scorches bystanders randomly
Volcano spews brimstone belligerent
Dissolves small boy's chance single handedly
Hitler contempt casts heinous destruction
Whip of his cape compel madmen to leap
Grief ingests itself, victim grows gumption
Roots for resprout cling to resovoir deep
Wrap gilded courage with rebounding soul
Compassion coiled to return after hurt
Bravery engraved on stalwart patrol
Solution driven man spurns Satan’s curse
Devoid of vanity, heart vivacious
Benevolent flare given in furnace
Sorry
My Selfless Beloved
.
In the lovely Dublin theater
where dreams are fulfilled
excited spectators hushed
In the silence of the night
with avid expectancy,
Bucks Fizz entered the stage
his music is a hidden gem
waiting to be performed
In a lovely breeze
a mellow silk thread was spun
akin to the moon's silky glow
I have hopeful dreams.
In the song 'Making Your Mind Up,'
they sang with clear voices
the audience leaned in
ready to hear
words have hidden meanings
with significant implications.
a galaxy of splendor
It's unlike ordinary life.
and are held captive
within its seductive embrace.
With voices that soar
they danced and whirled
with every movement
a lovely expression displayed
skirts swung
In utopian harmony
A glimpse into the future
they were whirling
every rotation brought free flowers
a touch of cosmic charm
a trail of delicate silver threads
from sparkling strands
Into the waiting hands below
voices burst with delight
they showed me their weary souls
while others can't consume
allow yourself to cry
whether from pure joy
evolved from a deep well of sadness.
weary spirits found rest
from exhaustion after a while
amid Eurovision magical lure
time stood still
the brine singer gaze
large and tender
someone uttered a song
that aimed to unify hearts
and whisk spirits away from here!
"This song was crafted for you, my beloved,"
she sang with a sense of urgency
then it accelerated
It's as graceful as a waltz
under the dancing stars.
twisting and falling from
skies above, to earth beneath
bystanders were enthralled
they left me behind, lost in a daze,
their devastated feelings
the beat captures my attention.
Where the tides of time glide
as the final note reached the air,
they were aware of this peculiar world
Under the stars
Bucks Fizz was presented
beyond just their vocals,
they weaved their magical gifts
similar to fabric producers
creating something fascinating
Their skirts pointed outward
akin to arrows
To faraway places
Where love and aspirations exist
Let us reflect on the Dublin scene
Where music meets magic
We have always danced together
During ephemeral times of skepticism
Let us revive the ageless ritual
Where skirts swirl.
Taking Bare of Your Self
Reflecting on the silent moments when the Self absorbs itself
Tim is called preposterous a villain and contentious narcissist
He looks into the mirror ponders on ponds of accusations
Yet hurts no others rejects a portion of what he recovers
No aggression no hurting others no transgressions he simply
Choses to take a good honest look at the prism of his meaning
The surface surges with a splatter as he views beyond the
Grimace of distortion salvages and abandons faulty grins
In the nude he dives into the wrinkled waters of salty tears
Mediates in breathless meditation sheds weight and anger
Takes care of his truth at the bottom of uncertain sediments
Strips groundless fearsome fathom fragments and thus retrieves
Bystanders do not like that he appears to be marvelling when
He only begs to differ from others and himself before he rises
Dissents consents dissolves ambivalence does not retaliate
False censorship of crowds that cannot will not wish to see
When onlookers label in projection and throw a stone he catches
What matters to him and walks away with kindness towards himself
20th July 2018
Freedom or whatever
Is it a wonderful idea where we can say what we like?
To act as we like without concern what others might think.
I believe in free speech voicing what life has taught me
and part of this is that freedom carries responsibility.
dare I say, compassion for others.
In Europe’s cities and the USS, people are demonstrating
they do not want their freedom curtailed,
not to wear masks and not vaccinated.
they do not think of people who by their actions might
make other bystanders catch the Virus and die.
Every régime of every description will try to get more power
and they must be resisted, but not now.
When times are right, they must be fought the alternative
is fascism, the enemy of freedom will seduce the half-baked
people to look for leaders who despite fine words
have nothing to offer but autocracy.
"*Oui, the winner, American Beauty,"
yet hail these 'Windflowers' Anemones,
flourished yon 'Down Under', 'Aussiszlanders,
indeed a showstopper for bystanders
of all but Europe, Turks, then South due East.
Breed buttercup, yet, some toxic; no feast,
bold capped to stop at bowls use; bowels feared,
not ground hugger, but mid-road, four feet cleared.
Eye catchers, nose losers; scent attracts foes,
begs Ruth from deer, rabbits ... cuts Atropos,
relevant, floral events, vast numbers,
eyes lacking, vainglory lapping ... wonders.
Attract bees, butterflies, and egotism,
flowers have that novel effect on schism.
The world is made up of bystanders, upstanders, and victims.
The bystanders are horrified when their neighbors are falsely accused.
Offended when they see blatant misbehaviors, aggressors, punchers, slappers.
Relieved they are not targeted, the bystanders often become victims.
There is hell to pay then.
Or is there?
The victims are always targeted.
She rolled her eyes at me.
In a crowd of 50?
How do you know it was you?
I just know.
The victims have daily tales of woe.
She glared at me.
She gave me the bird.
He was whispering about me.
Did you hear it?
No.
I heard my name.
Could they have been saying something nice?
No.
How do you know?
I just do.
Being around them is hell to pay.
There are very few upstanders.
Maybe one in every two or three classrooms.
They are assertive, confident, and
Unafraid to speak up
Even if they are standing alone.
They speak up for the victims.
They speak up for the bystanders.
They speak up for the teacher.
If we don’t take our cue from the upstanders,
There will be hell to pay.