Long Cares Poems
Long Cares Poems. Below are the most popular long Cares by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cares poems by poem length and keyword.
Meat Market
They sit on window sills in Hamburg Amsterdam and many beautiful Cities
Legally ‘freed’ they take part in a shady economy of flesh lust and domination
Skimpy dress bare buttocks and bosoms with red light advertising their ‘virtue’
Pimped and pumped out it is business as usual tonight and the punters arrive
Many are most recent imports from Eastern Europe snatched under false promise
Of valuable jobs now bereft of their passports and drugged to dark eye balls
They stand in dark alleys or prowl the streets offering rough rides and adventure
Hand out release for a tenner blow foul members like good sex slaves would do
On the passenger seat they take men to new heights and submit to exploitation
The point of service for entry is all good and if its not the front passage its dearer
Without protection the purse opens wider as the clients take their greedy pick
‘Some goods are beyond the sell by date’ but look now ‘Two for the price of one’
Some of the women and often young girls end up stitched up and dead in a ditch
But who cares they are only whores not pretty enough to be escorts or call girls
A vile supply and demand economy unregulated like neo-liberal infection below
‘The tart enjoys it and she can be proud to get stuffed by the great guy I am’
Modern day serfdom with no power of love but bonded in sick love for power
03rd June 2019
A long train journey,on a bright summer day.
Majestic mountains, adorn our pathway
Engrossing scenery,the windows display,
still no one cares and no one enjoys
suddenly the train entered into a tunnel,to our dismay
No incongruity between day and night
and it's neither evening nor twilight.
Trapped inside the train,nothing is bright;
Darkness cloaks our sight,
made us yearn for the light.
Oh,at last perceived the tunnel's end there.
The magical lights proliferate everywhere
and put an end to all the nightmares.
Learn to cherish the things round us.
Now that's the lesson, the life pursues
Another night is fast approaching
Like a runaway train without a guide.
I sit at a window in my attic
Watching the deepest part of the milky way.
A star shoots down and I have a whim,
A wish that will be secret.
Yet it bothers me a lot
That I should not share it with you.
Is it a superstition not to share?
Is it the norm to keep the wish
Bottled up in the depth of one’s soul?
Yet what care I for norm or habit?
I would rather share it with you.
For if it were up to me
I'd share everything with you,
All of my love and happiness,
All of my cares and despairs.
All of my life and existence
All that I have and don't have.
Yet in the end, I ask you:
Are you prepared to share?
Does anyone care? He asked me in a whispery way.
Everyone cares, I replied. Feeling this each and every day.
He has the whole world in his hands for sure I say.
He is creating the strokes we need to have our best stay.
The master artist who paints the landscape every morn.
Is taking care of us from the second we are flesh born.
If you doubt. look at the landscape, and watch the corn.
He harvests each kernel, soundly blowing angel’s horn.
He enlightens us in our dreams as we relax and sleep.
We are His to nurture, to guide, to counsel and to keep.
He certainly cares for even the birds that peep.
Do not worry, my friend, we are soul-driven deep.
But do the people care? He asks, in a worrisome way.
The souls care, I tell him. We are here to earth stay.
To share with each other, to show each other the way.
To love, to enlighten, to bring God, and to play.
This seemed to satisfy the child who was gentle born.
He laid in the field and he smiled at the corn.
He listened to the blow of the angel’s horn.
And he appreciated the Master who was Cosmic-born.
There is – once again – this surge of beautiful passion for, uncontrollable in it’s need for expression, – physical, emotional, verbal – for this illusion, this delusion I care for, a love I can only give ( locked within ) but never receive, for the object of my love cares not for what I have to offer and offers nothing in return. It seems that I will never be able to give, to live – out my dream- , to share, to ride upon love’s wings - for she clipped them in their infancy, while still pin feathers – as it flies into the universe of futility and into the realms of inexpressibility, imprisoned against the outside of walls of stone cold indifference ( a façade ? ) behind which, the beauty – I believe exists - I so want to experience, is herself imprisoned by parental tutelage ( father ), Polish, social pedagogy and all of the teachings from life’s experiences – to high expectations, to many prejudices’, to ingrained a belief in all the artificial, in the superficialities of life, to locked into being judgmental – judgmental, giving birth to far to much cynicism, far to much criticism ( that gives credence to all the false beliefs, clung to with such conviction ) that have made it impossible – for a man of my ( social, educational, intellectual and physical ) – to walk alongside of, down life’s highways, back roads, paths. A journey she may have chosen ?, to take alone, leaving me to take mine, on my own, all alone .
B. J. “A” 2
November 11th 2008
When i was little, i would have never dreamed at age 24 my heart would be so depressed i would choose death over breath, literally.. That my dreams would be filled with nothing but painful flashes of confusion..
Have you ever felt so alone, you stop to care? worse still, have you ever been left alone with life's cares?
I awake in the middle of the night, my eyes covered in tears, it seems even sleep has walked away leaving insomnia as its substitute..
This emotion, is it depression or just plain confusion? whatever it is, this feeling chocks the life out of you, like lipo sucking the life out of your tummy.. It covers your brain in an invisible yet deadly tumor, drains hope out of your soul like a heart loosing its oxygen causing the red blood cells to chock..
This feeling drags you to isolation, convincing you that is no solution to this confusion, telling you that all this pain can only end if you put an end to your breath- John 10, 10; The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy.
Depression buries your joy under neath piles of iniquity and condemnation, failure and rejection.
If i could, i would rather not drink from this bitter cup of melancholy but this is the same cup that reminds me of how my Father drank from the cup of death, the cup of wrath, gave away his breath so i could enjoy eternal breath.. Luke 23, 46.
And as i search the scriptures, i am convinced that this depression is not of my Father, the Father who called my name before the foundations of the Earth, who knitted me in his likeness- Genesis 1, 26-27 and loves me eternally, the Sovereign yet loving and compassionate God, the Father who left his glory, sort me from the pits of iniquity and blessed me with a new love story..
Today i choose to listen to my Fathers word over depression, over confusion and i accept his solution, i receive his eternal salvation, daily.. John 3, 16 God loved us so bad, he gave his son, fought death and replaced our depression with his salvation.. Hes replaced your depression with his salvation.
Trixie, my muse, runs screaming through the house with ideas
They bounce off furniture, turning into lightning bolts
The drapes are on fire; she cares not
She if foolish and reckless, a wild child who cannot be tamed
Wild knows wild, my imagination says, laughing at her antics
He and Trixie get along great; they are always cooking up something
Lightning bolts are zinging down the hallway
one misses my head by inches, they both laugh,
They are careless devils, my muse and my imagination
The house is burning down! My husband yells from the front room
We are all in flames before they are finished.
I run toward the shed, carrying my laptop.
They follow me, laughing manically.
(Dedication to a very dear friend)
When things don't seem to go your way and the load
You carry now is so heavy to bear one single day more
That's when you feel like you may be just falling down
And realize that things are taking its toll like never before
Bear in mind, that you can always depend on Him and me too
You can always stop and push all of your troubles away
And leave behind all your cares and your woes any time too
Just try to find some sort of joy and happiness in every single day
Concentrate a little harder in every thing that you do,the choice is yours,
Focus and reach all your goals, take the walk, right to the top!
Start today by fighting, and reaching out, for a better tomorrow
Achieve and make every single one of your "dreams" come true and never stop!
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2009
June 13, 2009
do you think it’s funny
hilarious, haha, a joke
how a billionaire’s money
is enough to make him an expert
on how to put his hands
around your throat
until you choke
how your taxes should be spent
and who should be sent away
to another place
to disappear without a trace
sold into slavery
or worse
to another time
when people were schooled
that rich white men ruled and
everyone else was
easily fooled
where women stayed
in the kitchen all day
preferably naked
and always ready to play
nobody was welcome
unless they could pay
their five million dollar
fee to stay
does it make you giggle
when our president
rants and raves
stomps his feet
and holds his breath
until his face
turns orange
says that only he
knows what’s best
for the billionaires
because quite frankly
no one cares about
all the rest
everyone must bow down
lay down
stay down
or get put down
orange marmalade
like fentanyl laced Gatorade
breaks the spirit
numbs the mind
until you find
you’re on the floor
too weak to
care anymore
Bullies
Bullies shouldn't prosper, Bullies shouldn't win,
Do they realise the pain they cause as they stand and grin?
Picking on the weak ones, some half of their size,
If a victim stood up to them, they'd get a big surprise,
You have a fear of going to school or fear of going to work,
Victims lives are being ruined while the perpetrators smirk
You sneak out of the school and the lonely streets you roam
You pray to God that they don't follow you home
You lay in your bedroom both day and night
Tears streaming and in pain, no-one cares about your plight
You endure being held down, feeling blows dealt to your head
But no-one cares to intervene, so they stand and watch instead
Bruised and battered and terrified after each attack
Then later on in life the scars are still present on your back
PTSD and night terrors soon become the norm
The very rare restful night is the calm before the storm
Bullying can continue later on in life
A helpless victim at the mercy
Of a husband or a wife
Bullies think they are invincible
When to a victim they attach
But bide your time and one day
They will meet their match