Long Can it Poems
Long Can it Poems. Below are the most popular long Can it by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Can it poems by poem length and keyword.
We've been imprisoned in our own homes
to fight a disease so devatasting,
and the impact on our well-being
is depression and solitude distancing lives!
How delightful was to take a stroll in Manhattan,
view the tall skyscrapers while munching on a honey bun!
People were cheerful and always said hello,
where did our genuine happiness and positive attitude go?
Wearing a face mask is a requirement,
don't walk into a supermarket without it:
you'll be forbidden to enter the premises;
be very considerate, think about others!
Health advisers promise a possible vaccine
by the end of this year and it shows promise,
the pandemic is spiking, children aren't immune;
will they go back to school and happily commute?
I have applied for a new job to beat boredom,
age is not a factor when you got the enthusiam;
staying at home ages your body and makes you weak,
I have to rejuvenate myself and not become a freak!
Ah, yesteryear as we remember it is missed and wanted again,
only viewed into the mirror of consciuosness when joy excited us!
Can it be revived and be ours again after this deep crisis?
Ah, all these reminisced memories conjure us to a speedy return!
He's given me Victory
He's given me Victory
He's given me victory over all that I can see
He's given me Victory
He's giving me Victory
He's given me Victory of all that I can see
Lord is my strength and my song
And He won't tarry long
How can it be wrong,
to worship and praise Him all day long
He's given me Victory
He's given me Victory
He's given me victory, Hallelujah
He has given me victory
He's given me Victory
He's given me victory
Over all my shames those wrongs I've done, I did
O so long sins
Now I've been born again
Rebirth and molded and made a new creature because I have to repented
He's given me victory
He's given me Victory
He's my Lord and He has giving me victory
over all my sins and shames
the Lord is my strength
and my song He has given me victory for all of my wrongs that I,
Ah! Oh, Oh Halle Hallelujah
Jesus Christ my Lord my God is giving me the victory
3/20/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2021
Psalm 118:18
Can it only possibly be me? Am I that randy?
Every woman I come upon and see
I picture naked in my mind immediately,
be they petite or what many may consider struggling with obesity,
They Are All So Beautiful In The Eyes Of This Beholder Imaginatively.
Sorry guys, but a naked guy's body does absolutely nothing for me.
It's akin to being a Jeep. It's a body simply built for rugged mobility,
but any woman's naked form is God's Greatest Creation Regarding Beauty.
The naked female form. Truly God's Most Beautifully And Greatest Created Masterpiece.
So, any women out there want to email me any naked photos of yourself?
I'll admire each ones true beauty and won't get myself off on any of them.
I Promise......yeah right!.....lol
We said goodbye
You and I
Tossed a coin
Who would cry
You won
Time went by
You went on to marry Joe
I got blown up
From head to toe
Along came baby, Jill
Your pride and joy
Such a thrill
I started the long road back
With a dummy leg, I nicknamed Jack
It was hate at first sight
Throwing him down every night
Sadly, Joe passed away
Your life crashing down
That fateful day
Jack and I changed tact
We sort of made a little pact
I wouldn’t throw him down
If he walked straight on the ground
You came to terms with your loss
Went back to work
Still the boss
Now you and little Jill
Moving on, moving still
I had finally trained Jack to run
Not very far, granted
He still moaned at will
But I told him straight
Tomorrow the hill
The sun was shining
Good day to go out
Drive into the country
Out and about
Right Jack, today’s the day
Do not upset me in any way
Just try to keep straight
Is that okay
Mummy, look at all the sheep
A cow, goats
Mummy, horses too
What’s that, Mummy
Jack decided to leave him on the downside of the hill
Rejoining him at the bottom
Leg with no thrill
I swear to god I will shoot you dead
Looking up at an Angel and a little girl in dread
Been a long time, Tony
Still running I see
Hope when you said shoot
You weren’t meaning me
No I was talking to Jack my leg
He hasn’t quite mastered running yet
Reminds me of a girl I once knew
Oops, that girl would be you
So you called your leg after me
That’s real sweet
Maybe that’s why she keeps leaving you
Wouldn’t you agree
I think you could be right
Having had lots of time to reflect in the small hours of the night
So, who’s this lovely little girl
This is my daughter, Jill
I know what you’re thinking
This fairytale came true
They got back together
Like they’re supposed to do
Alas not
Well, not till Jack mastered getting down on one knee
I mean, how hard can it be.
Is It Enough
Is it enough
To say I'm not the person I want to be
I peer through the looking glass
And see the man I aspire to be
But I can't break through the glass
And there's no door to get there
There's no path forward
Is it enough
To say I struggle with emotions
When love is scarce
And rage fills up my heart
But I've been let down so many times
I don't know how to get up
Without falling again
Is it enough
To point out all of my flaws
Some that I can fix
Some I'll live with forever
But deep down
I want to be free of it all
And simply be valued
Is it enough
Is any of this enough
A glimpse behind the curtain
This is the real me
But I'll be honest
This isn't the person I want to be
Though this is who I am
This is who I am
...Is it enough?
This is who I am
...Can it be enough?
This is who I am
...Is it enough?
...Will it ever be enough?
Please do not touch
Just read the signs dotted around the gallery display
So you take a selfie ...
What harm can it do?
Your camera shutter
clicks
clicks
clicks
as you take selfish selfie pics
Teetering on your high heels
you topple backwards like a destructive domino
Art gallery display
C
R A
S
H
E
S
to the floor
Your picture won’t ever be placed in a photograph frame
But hey
You achieved your fifteen seconds of fame
You took a selfie -
How selfish!
Inspired by newspaper article where a selfie goes wrong and causes around $200k damage to artwork by British artist Simon Birch
I've never considered myself an arty or creative person and I went out of my comfort zone to write this free verse poem.
07-15-17
There's something that lives inside me
I feel it cause it feeds on me
It feeds on all the softness
And leaves my rough edges to rub on me
I need an X-ray because I can feel it's big
It's like a cancer that consumes me
A darkness not from this world
Forged at a time I was lost
This unexamined pain can't be left unattended
Most days I babysit it and it drains me
I'm awake even in my sleep
Cause i need to keep an eye on it
Maybe that's why love is hard to keep
Cause it doesn't take root
How can it while the pain sits there
It's made a home where it shouldn't
And all the medications I keep taking ain't helping
Cause it goes straight to the pain
And leaves my body aching
And all this pain I'm left to project outward
The PO£T
It was 29 November 1781.
A black day.
A silent grave.
One hundred thirty of us.
Thrown into the sea.
Our voices rose.
Our souls cried.
Innocence sinking
into Europe’s darkness.
O Britain,
what crime did we commit?
What sin deserved this?
What heart kills the helpless?
You pretend to forget.
But the sea remembers.
The skies remember.
The Earth remembers.
Justice never sleeps.
Europe speaks of morality.
But to the gods of Justice,
your words are an insult.
Your sins are heavy.
Too heavy for time to carry.
Justice is slow.
But the slower it walks,
the harsher it strikes.
Punishment grows
in the silence of centuries.
Your guilt will haunt you.
It will run in your bloodline.
It will whisper in your dreams.
It will follow you
like a faithful shadow.
What did we do, Europe?
What threat were we?
We were chained.
We were starving.
We were human.
Yet you killed us
worse than beasts.
No spirituality lived in you.
For no soul touched by God
could drown another.
You ruled the world
with an iron fist.
Millions died in your name.
Now your age fades.
Your crown rusts.
Will karma forgive you?
How can it?
You planted evil.
You will reap storms.
The oceans will rise.
The winds will laugh.
The sky will mock your pride.
Your end approaches.
Your pain will be severe.
We remember.
The universe remembers.
And memory
is the beginning of judgment.
TRUTH. One word, is it possible to have several meanings?
Can truth be multifaceted? Can it be molded into the shape we require it to be ?
Jesus loves me, this I know
For the bible tells me so.
Millions and millions of people believe this is the truth
Millions and millions of people believe this is not the truth.
Truthfully, truth depends where you are standing.
When this contest is judged,
Many will think their poem is better than the winning poem.
Many will side with judge and agree with the decision.
Truth?
What more validation of the belief in truth, than a suicide bomber, defending what he believes is truth and offering his life for it?
Truth
“Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense,” said Buddha.
Does Truth depends on where you stand?
World media today, cant all be truth. Contradictions are rife. Do we know if any of it is truth? How is it possible to know?
Truth has become an individual mindset. No Expert doctrine can positively give you the answers you seek, because contradictions and alternative proposals always seem to exist.
There IS A TRUTH to everything. What actually happened, the way and time it happened is the truth, but this truth may have been clouded with misinformation so many times, the truth becomes distorted and eventually buried. Is truth a phenomena of by gone days? It cant be captured and put in a jar for prosperity. Memories fade, truth can be twisted to suit the tellers purposes. Innuendo and embellishments can be added. Perspective of what is seen, heard and witnessed can play a part.
There can only be one complete whole truth. Is truth a dying art?
Be it no more than just a glass of water,
A live walking stick played by a kind daughter
To a blind man whose walk is a vague totter.
Or quality time spent with someone old,
A blanket’s warm fold in times forlorn, cold,
In times of need a ready shoulder-hold.
A pair of slippers to feet walking bare,
Not in loud charity to show you care,
Heart-born feelings so felt drowning false air.
Anything— given short of counting ways,
Given to brighten up sinking heart’s greys,
To lighten load that too heavily weighs.
Give it in cash if it can’t be in kind,
Let it a gift of heart be, well inclined,
A gift of very soul, body and mind.
Give— the only joy greater than getting
Be the joy of giving and forgetting,
Helping in autumn times to invoke spring.
_____________________________________
Musings | 07.08.09 |
Poet's note: This poem is not a triolet, nor can it be called a Terza Rima. It can be a tercet, each stanza being of three lines, but this is not the option available.... Thanks PoetrySoup.com, Tercet is now available as an option, and I'm glad to call the poem Tercet, not Triolet (Jan 2025).