Long Cause Poems
Long Cause Poems. Below are the most popular long Cause by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cause poems by poem length and keyword.
BECAUSE YOU LOVE ME
IT IS EASIER TO UNDERSTAND
BECAUSE I LOVE YOU
AND TAKE PRIDE IN BEING YOUR MAN
WE CAN'T SHY AWAY
WE HAVE TO SEE OUR LOVE THRU
I GONNA LOVE YOU
WHEN THINGS AREN'T GOING OUR WAY
I'M GONNA LOVE YOU
LISTEN TO WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY
I'M GONNA LOVE YOU
IT'S EASY TO UNDERSTAND
I' GONNA LOVE YOU
WANNA BE YOUR ONE AND ONLY MAN
SOME PEOPLE GET BY
SLIPPING ROUND AND GETTING IT IN
SOME PEOPLE MAKE WAY TO HAVE
WHAT THEY WANT TO INPRESS THEIR FREINDS
I FOUND IT EASIER TO LOVE YOU RIGHT
IT AINT COMPLICATED
IT JUST SEEMS RIGHT
WHEN WE'RE OLD AND GRAY
WE GONNA SIT BACK
AND LISTEN WHAT THE PEOPLE SAY
ONE THING FOR SURE
WHEN THEY SPEAK OF LOVE
THEY'LL BE TALKING BOUT YOU AND I
TRUE TO OUR GAME
I'M GONNA LOVE YOU
LOVE'S THE ONLY WAY
I'M GONNA LOVE YOU
LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY
I'M GONNA LOVE YOU
THRU EACH AND EVERY THING
CAUSE I LOVE YOU
CAUSE LOVE YOU
I'M GONNA LOVE YOU !
You bump into a former friend
You haven’t seen in years,
And catch up on the latest news
Of families and careers.
But then you start to reminisce
And all the time gone by
Just melts away, despite the truth
A mirror won’t deny.
You laugh and conjure up the tales
Of escapades long past,
And wonder how it is your life
Has zipped away so fast.
‘Cause as you are remembering,
Your younger self emerges –
The carefree way you were before
Adulthood stopped those splurges.
But then reality returns
And soon you say goodbye.
You say you’ll get in touch, but likely
You won’t even try.
At least, for just a little while,
You magically did spend
Some time with both your younger self
And with your long-lost friend
They placed me in a wooden box
and then they put the lid on. They left
me to shiver the cold night through and
picked me up next day around eleven a.m.
I heard dogs bark and children play, I heard
sweet songs among the dirges; friends and relatives
said such lovely things about me that afore were quite
unheard of. Inevitably, old Uncle Jim came out with
the one about the actress and the archbishop,
and what the fallen woman said at confessional
to a rabbi who'd taken over from the priest
for the day in a spirit most ecumenical. Then
the pall-bearers at last bore the box to the
spot assigned for burial. "Ashes to ashes,
dust to dust," said the reverend with
solemn finality as they let down the
box with me inside into the yawning
cavity, and that, if you'll allow me
add, with something akin to
alacrity. Then just as he gave
the final sign
to set the spades
showering earth down,
I lifted the lid of the box where I lay,
I said to the assembled all gasping and white:
"Sorry to stop the proceedings so late in the day, but one assumption I
challenge as completely unfounded, though it's been all too readily
taken for granted:
Far be it from me to cause an upset, but I think you should know--
I'M NOT DEAD YET!"
Some of the assembled felt very let down
and made no bones about it.
When flipping a coin,
Someone calls “heads” or “tails”
And whichever is chosen,
A winner prevails.
A president’s head
Is what’s actually shown.
On a penny, it’s Lincoln;
The quarter is known
As George Washington’s place
And the nickel is where
Thomas Jefferson’s face
Is imprinted right there.
F.D.R. has the dime
And, since back in the day,
The half-dollar’s profile
Is of J.F.K.
The back of each coin,
As the “tail” will reveal,
Has a shield or an eagle
Or President’s seal.
There’s also a torch
And an olive branch, too.
Monticello is pictured;
Some stars are on view.
Yet the Treasury wants
A new coin to be made
Worth a dollar, with You-Know-Who
Proudly displayed.
On both sides of the coin, though,
His face will appear.
Shouldn’t one be his head
And the other his rear?
That would sure cause a scene
For the country to hail.
After all, coins still need
Both the head and the tail.
they took me prisoner cause I looked different
I told them let me be for I was born here
my hands were tied and they laugh at me
why do you detain me I did nothing wrong
alone and battered in a cell no telephone
my wife alone with child calling relatives
asking if they have heard from me
while I was transported to make shift prison
they kept asking what country I was from
They said I was here illegally so I was sent
to south America and I did not know Spanish
lost and scared I walk toward a house
They looked at me with pity in their eyes
I asked if they spoke english and a young boy
answered and asked why I looked so lost
I asked if they had a phone the boy said yes
after some time my call got through
I heard my wife voice and began to cry
my family arranged my travel home
upon arriving my wife and friends were there
I took my passport and marine discharge
papers to immigration office to prove I was an
American citizen and requested reimbursement
for all my expenses (5,000) and lawyer fees
Take your complain to ICE they made the
mistake not us
Wrote a poem just four years ago
reminding myself how I must grow.
Entitled it then "Looking Ahead";
Each year, new verse I add to that thread.
“Looking inward in 2-O-2-2.
a more intentional me for You
Resolutions help me get onboard
and glorify the Almighty Lord."
Looking outward in 2-O-2-3
treasuring what Christ has meant to me,
wishing God's commonwealth to enlarge,
thanking my Savior who has full charge.
Looking forward in 2-O-2-4
fulfillment - what God put me here for -
to share my faith as I run this race
knowing that no one deserves His grace.
Looking upward in 2-O-2-5
God’s spirit alone will help me thrive.
Wishing does no justice to His cause;
but obedience wins His applause.
"Do you trust eyes?" Asked they
She had a sketchy answer, hard to convey
Still she tried and began in a way...
"Observe your mind
When it tries to guide
every part in you to take up the ride
The ride in which your parts try to hide
the thoughts that come to you every night
Staring at the ceiling with switched off light
Cause in the dark, hidden is your sight
this epitome may seem unsatisfied
So why not fade to prudence and pride
Starting with neither ascending nor descending
The buccal cavity, best at defending
the hidden truth which can cause the ending
and so crashed the utterance from landing
Tears fall off from the chin to your nose
and you run in the corners
where no one goes
Enough of tears!
Your nose even sighs
Not to emit sound
that's what it tries
More of the canvas, are your mastermind lips
Aren't they halting the so called apocalypse?
spot where it's painted, that fake smile of yours
But if you know you know! your rage never roars
The loyal ones here are taking an end
to let the disloyal perform the work of the sand
The melancholy and the seashore go hand in hand
and inevitably converge with that loyal sand
who, no matter what choose to stand
For someone who is as if a gland
This phenomenon is like an art
the one who unveils what's in your heart
Doesn't really cares about tearing apart
disloyal to you, betray while pretending
It's right there inside! How much you fear ending"
She took a pause and now questions were crossed
"Now I want you to utter
About what would you prefer
From the gullible heart
Between loving or hating that galactic art?
The loyal to others, disloyal to you
Revealed every emotion without passing any clue
The loyal to others, disloyal to you
Will only decide whether it's ending or the beginning very new
The loyal to others, disloyal to you
For someone so special, can even fight with queue
The loyal to others, disloyal to you
Curtailed the mess which you never knew
Those irises which denied to conceal what you've been through
Not a true blue
The loyal to others, disloyal to you
Enough of lies!
When there it is, your 'galactic eyes'
pure as porcelain with intertwined pride
Even after bearing the dust inside
The vanity in them cause they never lied
Do I really trust them, now can't you decide? "
It takes many days walking the path God has given,
limping with arthritic stagger, aching unrelentlessly.
Any matter that this condition came on as I retire,
nearly psychosomatic! I must look old age in the face
and laugh. I will not surrender to the cause of death
of my youth but bravely I must ride the healing train.
When you make up your mind at sixty to get going,
the going’s not going to give up its struggle..its resist.
But God has not blessed me with a coldcock mind.
The enemy keeps coming with closed fist. Nevermind
the wretched sight of one whose wings were clipped,
kicked in the butt from the highest height, falling
into a forever nap of eternal unhappiness. My strength
comes from the Lord. I may be weak, but his ways
are truth and life. His sun and moon out of the hands
of insane man, wild beasts and devilry. The light
stays in place by royal decree. O! The Word is brilliant!
I stay the course, the narrow way, limping if I must,
never missing the step of trust. O the people and the
places where I must go, God goes first ahead of me
and surrounds me. If I fall or fail, there is meaning
to it all. I can cry if I want or bravely lift the chin.
My mind set upon the white-haired lady, one of us,
who took much time to go from the parking lot
into the restaurant. She was turtle slow with her walker
in the moonlight. She was worth the wait. “Ooh…”
she’d exclaim, “I feel the Holy Spirit,” Exuberance sublime.
No clown face with red lipstick and downward plunge
of wrinkles. Happiness rode on her wave of suffering.
I wonder if she has joined the Lord yet? He was with her
all of the time. She’d learned to live in the light. I’ve met
only a couple of glowing gals, candlesticks that are alive.
Like Moses, God gave that special touch of shekinah glory.
If I pray for that manifestation, I know I must carry my cross.
I pray to love God with all my heart, mind, strength, soul -
always follow Him, no matter the toll. Blessings abound in Him.
8/7/2021
I was that kid,
barefoot on cracked sidewalks,
leaping over shadows,
chasing the sun without knowing it sets.
I was made, of scraped knees
and stories spun from nothing but air.
I had no map,
but I never needed one.
The world was a sandbox,
and I was its architect,
building castles from dreams,
sturdy with the strength of belief,
not yet crumbled by doubt.
I was careless,
but not in the way they warn you about.
I was carefree,
like the wind has no master,
like laughter has no leash.
I ran with it,
didn’t question the direction,
didn’t worry where it led.
Imagination was my kingdom,
where I ruled with crayons and chalk,
painting galaxies on walls,
inventing friends who never left.
I was a queen in a dress too big,
a superhero with a blanket cape,
sweet with innocence,
kind without cause.
I was that kid,
who smiled at the sky,
who saw monsters as misunderstood,
who saw life as something to be colored,
outside the lines,
because who needs them?
And now—
now I carry her with me.
In my pockets, a little piece of her light,
in my eyes, the spark she lit.
She made me,
from sticky fingers and big dreams,
from careless days and endless nights.
She is the echo in my laughter,
the reason I still see shapes in clouds,
the reason I believe in the impossible,
even now.
I was that kid,
and thanks to her,
I still am.
MPA statement
from recent MPA applicant
*
"Hello, my name is Bill and I'm a Miserable Person."
"Hello Bill" - standard response from the audience.
"I no longer socialize with any family or any friends
and I keep my distance from co workers when I am working
and it isn't because I've stopped caring for any of them.
It's plain and simply because I'm a miserable person
and my company with anybody regularly would truly depress them
causing me to inevitably be an even more miserable person.,
knowing that I played a role in depressing them,
and so it's truly best for all if I just avoid everyone,
that way there will only be one instead of many miserable persons.
Just because I'm always miserable doesn't mean I can't show some
reasonable common descent consideration
towards my fellow man, fellow woman, close family and close friends
and that is why I do tend to avoid all of them.
I don't want to be the cause in any way of possibly making
any of them miserable persons,
because as I have already previously mentioned,
that would make me an even more miserable Miserable Person.
I am most likely the most miserable among all of us.
My name is Bill and I thank all of you so very much
for welcoming me to Miserable Persons Anonymous."
*
Damn, here's something that I certainly wasn't expecting.
I've just gone and depressed the entire Michigan Police Association
Apparently I'm in the wrong MPA room.
I'll probably depress Miserable Persons Anonymous's membership too.
There aren't many options for a miserable person to pursue.
*