Long Cater Poems

Long Cater Poems. Below are the most popular long Cater by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cater poems by poem length and keyword.


False Accusations, Part Iv

...A child who’d never know a father
that had deserved him more than she could tell,
knowing that she must lie to her husband,
the truth of it would not end very well.
The moments when she should feel only joy,
she just felt despair she could not avoid.

The weight of it all pushed Whitney to drink,
she hid it well, since Jerry worked a lot,
the au pair did most care for the baby,
since inside Whitney was nagged by dark thoughts,
she’d see her youngest, and think of her loss,
then call the au pair, and hand the babe off.

This pattern went on for about a year,
all of her family noticed the grim mood,
Jerry did his best to cater to her,
but despite this Whitney didn’t improve,
when, despite her kids, everything seemed wrong,
when in her own life she didn’t belong.

It wasn’t suicide that claimed Whitney,
at least it was not the conscious sort,
it came when she’d exhausted her wine,
and without a thought, went out to the store,
far enough gone that she didn’t realize
that she had no business trying to drive.

Her car was found at the base of a bridge,
she gone so fast she’d burst through the guard rail,
the coroner said she’d died in impact,
when Jerry heard of the news he just wailed,
he may not have held the love of his wife,
but to him she’d been the love of his life.

JERRY
Jerry found himself in a trying place,
alone with three children, one of them young,
working full time to keep everyone fed,
without nannies he would get nothing done.
But even then, his children were depressed,
not understanding the whole of this mess.

He’d never been an emotional man,
but he tried his best to be there for them,
especially their one-year old baby,
who, of course, needed so much attention,
Jerry’s hair turned gray trying to keep up,
and he was still mourning for his lost love.

He managed to find some sort of balance,
some way to keep his kids going through this,
they were the only good this he had left,
the only reason he cared to persist,
alone he had little time for himself,
it did take a toll on his mental health.

He’d no time for dating, didn’t want to,
it still hurt too much to not see Whitney,
all his time was spent with his three children,
there was none left for fun or for hobbies,
Jerry felt himself a shell of a man,
everything was struggle, there was no more plan...

CONTINUES IN PART V.
Form: Epic


A Cautionary Tail

Herr Heinrich Schneider and his spouse
Felt the need to wander,
And for once to leave their house
For a land that lay far yonder.

Japan at cherry-blossom time!
No better place than this
Enthralled the German couple’s mind.
The chance they would not miss.

"But what of Spezi", Heidi cried,
"We can’t leave him behind."
"Ach! unser Spezi," Heinrich sighed.
"There’s a way we’ll find."

They gave him anti-rabies shots
And medicines galore.
All that red tape, and lots and lots
Of paper-mountains more.

Off to the orient they flew
With hopeful joy and glee.
Oh what wonders bright and new
Would soon enthral all three?

Imperial palaces they saw 
And Fuji’s snow-capped summit,
Ornate gardens stirring awe.
You name it, they had done it.

Immersed in culture and in art
They sensed a certain lack.
And so it was that they took heart
To leave the beaten track.

They hired a car and off they went
To some far-distant by-way.
And many a pleasant hour they spent
Till the dying light of day.

They found a cosy place to rest.
On the price they made a deal.
At last a chance to have a "Fest".
The time came for a meal.

The menu was in Japanese,
As well one might expect.
The waiter clearly meant to please
And bowed with great respect.

Of English, German and of French
He had no scrap of knowledge.
He gave each ear a nervous clench.
No, he’d never been to college.

Herr Schneider felt like sauerkraut
And Heidi felt like veal,
Food of this kind they’d do without
Until another meal.

But Spezi’s hunger would not wait.
Herr Schneider eyed the waiter.
"Wuff, Wuff, our Spezi wants a plate.
For dogs one has to cater."

While they sat there, a full hour passed. 
Then the waiter brought some dishes.
The Schneiders ate their strange repast,
Which fell short of their wishes.

It was now time to pay the bill,
Which ran to many a yen.
Both were feeling somewhat ill.
and hardly spoke a word, but then -

Heidi cried "Is Spezi back yet?"
"Wuff wuff" did Heinrich bark.
"Please, waiter, tell us, where’s our pet?
In the kitchen? In the park?

A piece of fur the waiter brought.
Then Heidi’s face went pale.
She had a grim and horrid thought
On seeing Spezi’s tail. 

What is the moral of this tale?
Down under be a dingo.
Where e’er you roam you should not fail
To understand the lingo.
dog
Form: Didactic

Pouch Poetry 1-4

hereunder is served some poetry pouches full of love, 
dear reader, stir them as you like, 
if you wish you may crack them to pour into mouth, 
you may smear them on your body 
or you may sprinkle them on the ground 
and then chant the name of god 
with love and enjoyment

1.
the simplicity that rolls down 
from the body of the sweet-meat 
made by my mother 

let it bring light 
to our radish-red love-story 

to hear or to notice 
love 
does not need 
putting an ear on the wall 
of the wall-street journal 

the bottle could be filled 
from the voice 

when you go to fill the bottle 
you would see that everywhere 
the arrangement of picnic is ready 

when i want to take part in that feast 
my neighbours would drive me towards 
the home  

although i’ve spent all my life 
running behind the love 

2.
who’s won the muddy-battle
was yesterday’s politics

my addiction is actually to cater 
the pouch of love
to develop all vitamins
and all bathrooms

people say you don’t love
the claps of the rats

yet i’ll come down 
from the branch of a guava-tree 
as a wave-of-shopping-mall
to the lake of your love 

now i’ll jump out 
from this computer screen 
to register a kiss 
on your lips

don't miss to applaud 
by clapping the hands


3.
the heart is half-sunk
in the window 

to some extent 
in the lipstick too 

on the dinner-plate 
there is the feelings of the lord 

that means 
i’ve to be burnt more 
i do agree 

i would become 
the sculpture of khajuraho 

this happenings may have been 
the right search for love 

on either-side of which  
a green is being worked out 
by the nostalgic-cycle 

whose colour-texture is very much harappa 
which has too many geometric-memories 

4. 
an undertone is speaking 
from within the solitude

now i’m in very much 
distress

or i’m in love 

i don’t know my love is what-for
may be that’s an arrangement only 

so easily are those interactions 
stitched with words 

strenuous or effortless 
in flight 
initiated 
with seclusion 

but when in the sinking of the playfulness 
i  write the games of the street-charmers 
 

the birds again and again 
pierce the archery 

thus becoming ashes 
through travelling 

in time-gaps still 
the audacity to compose poems 
on you

November, 93

Twas like every November before it, 
But this one came with an air of uncertainty,
For the drums of celebrations had halted in may.
When Owen celebrated his second birthday.

Fate was finally smiling at Evbareke
Those around her had thought, 
For indeed she, the child whose mother abandoned just nine months after her birth.

And left in the care of her sick father,
Aged grand mother,
Family members who cared less 
For her existence.

Had grown to become a beautiful girl, 
Whose nature was fair,
Like the back of a ripe alimo fruit
Which falls bountifully in the Month of March.

She, the girl whose childhood 
Was characterize by total neglect and
Destitution had out of nothing found favour, 
In the eyes of a decorated soja man.

Fast forward to 1989.
Her civil servant father died of an eerie
Circumstance; a live fish was removed 
From his stomach.

Her life regained some sanity when
The soja man married her, 
Immediately after Her father's burial. 
He had promised to stay with her forever 
And make her happy.

But nightmares also do come to pass.
Oga soja had a first wife at home,who 
discontinued child birth after two children.
Her every action brought doom
To every one that crossed her path.

Fast forward to August 93,
The pressure from oga soja's first wife 
Became unbearable, but oga soja in his kind 
Nature, comforted her.
After all, she has given him 
Three boys with another one on the way.

Death would strike again 
But this time it came in form of a mere cold.
A cold that started on a very hot afternoon 
All means and measures to quell the cold were abortive.

So death was inevitable, 
It came that morning when oga soja told her to 
Forgive him because he had worsen her plight.
"Look after our children" were his last words.

That November she was told to marry 
Oga Soja's younger brother, 
Who promised to cater for her 
And her children.
She refused and decided to go her way
And raise her children all by herself.

Interjection;
Do not take it too seriously 
Life will happen to her and her children,
Who defied all odds to live a good life.
And when she is asked what her biggest
Regret in life is?
She would say November 1993.


Godwin Henry Osaigbovo (Pa Shakespeare)

Premium Member When I Was Ten

Way back when I was ten
I lived a life lived at that time only by children
My world consisted of my parents, of my books and of my imagination
Adulthood was something which would not happen to me; an unknown destination

Back then I did feel forced to cater to my duty
Yes, school and homework bordered the linings of my young city
A toil it was, to carry my heavy load everyday
A toil so disagreeable, for I was the one with whom none would play!

After school, I would sit and watch the cartoons
They made me dream, for me they were like the mysterious balloons
Those having the power to take me to places which existed not 
Those having the power to make me dream of realms shined by many moons

Dreamed I back then of life made of the fantasy
Dreamed I of the Evil Witch and the Beautiful Fairy
Dreamed I of a world found beyond the rainbow
There, where children remain as they are, even at the coming of tomorrow

Sometimes I would sit and watch the rain
How sweet it did make me feel
Yes, rainy days turned me all gentle
Yes, the flowing water would have me ponder on what it takes to be human

Already was I was a loner
Loving never the company of another
Always chose I to keep to myself
Always chose I to bury my nose in those books found on my shelf

Lived I at that time in a loving family
Was I always the pampered doll
The one who filled up everyone's world
The one who would choose first, her share of candy

Of course, I played outside, in the gardens, 
Of course, I tried to catch butterflies and birds
Of course, I had no smart phones, never heard of those even
Of course, I thought stars would fall to Earth; I would hide them in my little haven

I was a boyish gamine
I was the ugly duck, who dreamed of being the golden swan
Life on Earth did seem unfair
But my imagination was there to make it all fair

My heart did beat fast at those times
For those lads who never knew of my flames
Forbidden was love, though I knew that age did not matter
Still, I chose to hide and spy on them from my hidden tower

Life, way back at ten, was lovely
Still innocent, my life back then is what I now do cherish merrily!
Life, lived as a ten year old, 
Seemed to be though, for me, a thing so, so hard!
Form: Rhyme


Letter From An Aborted Child

The day you conceived me in your womb
I greeted my creator with a thousand thanks
In your womb i laid happily and grateful
I merely died of laughter in there because
You harboured me in your womb like a god
You have a dancing shoes with nimbles soles
Whilst i have a soul of lead, the future brighter
Your intestine laughed themselves out in joy
I beheld your bloodstream beaming with smiles
In the wonderful world of a prince to be born
Their cheeks appeared as the pretty dawn of the day
Their red clothes blown in your wombs like leaves
Hidden in the full noon, the next of nature
I watched their dancing steps killing the viruses inside
i was excited to embrace the pattering of food through
Your kind placenta to the walls of my stomach
Until that day when you passed your conscience
To the land of our silent fathers to wash me away
I knew you to be a woman of easy virtue
Heard melodies are sweet but those unheard sweater
Confusion heard my dying soul wept then 
I allowed my tears to clap their hands
Because i could not control you when fears
Went on and on in my little mind
My heart working like a mechanical machine 
To seek and find ways to stop your evil thought
To some , women are necessary evil, now i believed
Why mother? why did you allowed your conscience ruled you?
You should have at least welcome me home
And watch what tomorrow will be like.
Perhaps i may be of help to you and the society
Howbeit you hated me with so much passion without seeing my face?
Why did you killed me like a wandering   fowl whilst
Millions of women are looking for my kind?
I walk alone mother, you should have not go if you can not carry m so long and cater for me  
Did you know what the future hold for me?
I walk the feeble street as though death is after me
I cried all day and night on the sleepless street of nothingness Upon the sins of humanity against the will of God.
Am sad woman for washing me away, for letting my innocent
tears dropped on the altar of sin.
Well, only the creator knows better perhaps another womb
will welcome me with joy as i go but stop the act and save lives for the future holds greater joy you can never imagine now with us

THE UNBORN
Form: Narrative

A Robbed Scholar

"Pack the chairs,no souls will be entertained here",
Politics is stealing the future of scholars,
The faith is rather picking blemishes from religious pillars,
Can't make it plain to them of my changed mind,
Grew up along the coast,
Education wasn't a key boast,
Chasing money and abiding to words from our illiterate parents,
"Hey,...if you refuse to go fishing,no food for you today",fear really got itself filled us with adherents, 
The punishment comes always with fatality, 
What is known to be risky,we see it to be easy,
Trained with marshal laws,...and it's the powerful canes form masters in the halls, 
Privileged men went ahead to acquire knowledge,because they had all it carried, 
Knew what is meant by a treasure buried,
Fought tediously to overthrow the whiteman ruling over their integrity, 
When nothing was induced much into us,eyes were opened to plenty,
Disappeared from home to where no man ever had an idea about,
Saved by a richman but lonely hunter mouse ,
Impacted into me in-depth understanding, 
Showed me the realities of life;formal education without a payment,
"God bless his hidden soul",
Returned after so many years,
"Life is now precious and exerting greatness of me,
Society wasn't able to exercise recognition of who I am,
But yet still,I found my childhood friends fighting for success with grey hair",he noted well,
Expression on their faces proves their lost in the middle of nowhere, 
Hailing his superiority among them,he was appointed as the chief advisors brain,
So many opportunities he gained, 
His life was a breakthrough to the land he was born to cater,
He is a refined gold within a polluted water,
Inculcated intelligence into his fellow people scoop,
Few took it wholeheartedly;they had eyes for pride so they've made it in a bloom,
Politics practically went about chewing the learned knowledge as strict, 
Coping with internal and external institutions,he raised a fine district,
But,his heart never desired for a truth;
What were deceptions to uproot?
Helmet of glory,
Passion for God plays the background of his officialdom, 
Only blink of eyes taking a yawn,religion stole his referendum.

My Fortune 500

My Fortune 500 Company is a billion dollar businesses
Filled with inspirations, diversity, and motivational visions
 
Corporate cars, business attire, which all are comforted with money out the ass
But I wonder if the clarity of defining your fortune 500 has to deal with cash!?!?
 
We see the lavish life of the money, cars, clothes and somewhat spoiled life on TV
And with all honesty, every single one of us had that moment when we were like “Damn, I wish that could be me”
 
But see!?! I rather be born a bum than to be born rich…
So when wealth and great opportunities present themselves in my life I can truly cherish it
Most of us today rather be spoiled by living a life including less hardships…
Magnifying those who seems to have it all
But I look up and admire those who have came from ****….
Because they know how to get up off their ass up and keep walking when they fall
 
You can give me projected outcomes for the year
And try to calculate what you think my success should be
But I don’t need numbers or prospects with opinions, for GOD tells me my SUCCESS grows near
So the next step for you would be to stop worrying about me
 
This is only a message for the haters,
Those who try to live their faulty lives through our potential
But to their satisfaction I refuse to cater...
To thoughts that deter my successful moments from being monumental
 
See my Fortune 500 doesn’t result from money, cars, and other materialistic things
My fortune 500 comes from the love, blessing, opportunity, and special people in my life that GOD brings
 
Money doesn’t buy us happiness, it only temporarily relieves stress
And blinds us from the little things that are god’s sign of showing us that we are truly blessed
 
So define your fortune 500 from the things that are dear to you...not to your peers or to  the world
Because valuing yourself and knowing your worth and living happily through the simple things …
Will give you more peace, comfort, happiness and a beautiful shine to your life.
10x more than any glisten that can be created by a diamond or the prettiest pearl…
So....What is your Fortune 500!?
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Ghosts, This World's Invisible Hosts

Life, it is said, does evolve after our demise
Life can beget Heaven as its prize
Or Hell as its torment
Or even a fall back to Earth, to its own detriment

Life is full of surprises
See when one does think that darkness would win
One does see that the sun over a new day does rise
Only to make sure one does end up being more wise

Pray, life does be mystery,
It is made up of more than one accessory
Like ghosts
Ghosts, this world's invisible hosts!

Why, I do battle with ghosts everyday
Ghosts from my past
Ghosts who, to me, they do say
Pray, to us and to our memories you should cling on fast

For with us, someday, you shall be back
With us, yes, in the celestial realms and then, only then
We shall give you your heart back
For we do have it kept closed in our safe

Why, ghosts of such kind scare me not
Ghosts of such kind do be with the one who does guide us in our fate
Ghosts who are not really ghosts
But beings of light, muses of poetry, muses of delight

Why, I do come from a land which I have forgotten not
A land ruled by the One Great Being
My heart does beat only for Him
My heart does bear this life, only for Him

While this world does be temporary and transient
The other one does provide youth and life in permanent
So I shall not bother about life here
Rather, I shall make sure that to my ghosts, or my muses, I do adhere

Muses of love, muses of words, muses bringing sooth to the soul
Muses who do give me some joy in this world
Muses who scare me not
Muses who do make of me a poet

Among them does be the one I yearn for
My lover, my ruler, the One the whole world does adore
Yes, ghosts do call out to me from afar
Pray, forget not that you do belong not in this realm, they do say

Why, ghosts shall haunt me as long as I do live
For I have not an ounce of faith for this world
Of course, only to my duty shall I cater
Yes, of course, only as long as I shall be here!

Life does evolve after our demise
Pray, for the dead shed not any tears
Rather, remember that you shall be with them
For a new journey, or to catch up on some long lost wasted time!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Letter To Tony

Dear Tony,
                                                                                                                                                                  I see a broken and bruised heart; and I alone can relieve your awful pain.
You must realize that I am desperately trying to reach out to you;                                                                      
but there are limits to my ability to enter the doors of your heart.
You continue denying me entry and ignoring all my communications.
I know if it were not for the blinders and the fog, you would let me in
I am certain that you are well aware of the padded locks on your doors
You most asuredly have noticed all the iron bars and boards blocking me
Many others have gained entry; and I only ask, "Why not me who love you more?"

We knew each other well when your were young; but now you feel no need for me. You are surrounded and locked away by selfish people who do not really care about you. They do not love you and only want what's yours; I desire not yours; but you alone. They have nothing to give, but everything to take. I have nothing to take, but everything to give. Oh *Tony, you realize this fact in your heart, but you are very lonely and afraid to let them go.

You are being consumed by unsatisfying amusements that leave you cold and miserable. I cannot force my way through all the smoke and mirrors, the false and fading. I know that You don't really want me out; but you want so many others in.  Unfortunately, you cannot have both me and them. I am sorry that I cannot be 'just another' among the many who cater to you.

I have called, emailed, texted, and sent regular mail without response.
But please understand that my love for you remains and will never die;           I am here for you always.

Longing to be your friend,                                                                                                                                              Jesus
08162017FBTGPSContesy, Let Me Into Your Heart, Julie Rodeheaver, 3Pl.
*I once had a friend name Tony who died from an overdose of Narcotics

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