Long Compartments Poems
Long Compartments Poems. Below are the most popular long Compartments by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Compartments poems by poem length and keyword.
SAINTS AND SINNERS
No human being on this planet is perfect
Everyone in blood and flesh errs but the degree varies
Saints or sinners they have their own controversies
But time, place ,circumstance and nature of act…
Holds mirror to tag them as sinners or saints
Today’s sinner might be a saint tomorrow
Today’s saint might be a sinner tomorrow
Society’s decision, its perception, belief system
Most of the time judges them with precision
But story does not conclude here……
Few acts are forbidden, degrading no matter what
Any person who does such is sure to fall
Few acts are pious, brings blessings to all
Any person does this gets elevated in all
The next aspect is the number of good qualities….
Sinners and saints have in them both good and bad
But saint expresses more good over bad
The sinner does the opposite sans remorse
Between a Sinner and Saint there’s only a thin barrier
They don’t stay in water-tight compartments
A pricking conscience is always there in between
Who acts listening to the inner voice would err little
And he will attract huge followers for his genuineness
And would be a saintly person attracting glory
And the one who repeatedly trespasses piling up errs
Will soon be a sinner digging his own grave
For he will attract more hate and curse sans pardon!
28th October 2016
For Contest-Saints and Sinners
sponsored by- Silent One
She carries the weight of the world on her shoulders
In different colours and hues
There is always a favourite to grab on the run
reflecting it’s endless use.
It has all of these compartments
Exactly like ones in her head
To store different items, for later use.
The compact is kept to powder her nose
To hold her dignity high
A little blush to add to the rush
Radiating a passionate glow
The eyeliner comes next to reflect
The boundaries to her soul
The stick is quick to colour those
Lips of Gratitude.
Tucked away is a rubber band or two
Searching frantically for a moment
to escape to collect herself once more
suddenly coming in hand the band
to tie the loose strands
Looking dignified once more.
And old love letter that shows that she cares
and reflects all that she is
A pretty handkerchief to wipe away tears and pain
The little note book hidden in a nook
to call upon her vivid imagination.
A bottle of Perfume a signature tune
That scents up a room,
Heads turn with all eyes on her
No time to look the sling on her back
She is secure and covered once more
Her handbag coming to the rescue.
giant worm infestation in my mind tonight
climbing up, simultaneously climbing down
engineering side rivaling artistic relief
bubbly puffy grayscale creatures
sectioned in rounded compartments
their fat butts showing, striped and round
climbing up and climbing down
In two’s and three’s they make the fabricated climb
lizard-like, but no, more rounded, more like worms with tails
drawn by Escher fine, his artistry so precise, it sails….
Rounded doorways in grayscale walls, lead to nowhere fast.
None of these creatures elongated or tall, their fate is clearly cast.
They’ll parade around in my mind tonight when I should sleep.
M.C. Escher, your mind was clearly out of sight; your legacy so deep.
Climbing up, climbing down.
I will dream of these worms around and round.
She leaves Southampton
This Titanic ship
Her maiden voyage
New York trip
Channel crossings to Cherbourg, France
To Queenstown in Ireland
Where passengers dance
To some, a new life awaits
The future will seal their fate
Newfoundland waters
Temperature drop
Impending disaster
Without a thought
Lookouts, Fleet and Lee
Spot a large iceberg close to she
Sitting off her starboard bow
Sweat dripping from their brow
Telegraph indicator
In confusion state
This colossus of ice
Sits and waits
Inevitable meet
As natures diamond rips
Starboard side
Of this most wonderful ship
Rivets pop, buckled hull
Atlantic intrusion, in volumes now
Compartments fill, this White Star gem
Will we ever see her likes again
Distress signal sent
As the crew are readied
This ship of ships
Emotionally unsteady
Lifeboats launched
Woman and children first
On this terrible night
Many fear the worst
So many passengers
Few lifeboats
As all around
Bodies float
Stern raised, props showing
Metal talking, funnels choking
Lights flicker off and on
Blackout
Old trains fascinate me
They have character galore
I got a feeling of comfort
Once I stepped inside the door
The smell of the real leather
And the lovely suitcase racks
A very romantic setting
As a train rumbles down the tracks
It had a special feeling
As it went merrily along
And my head is reeling
Trying to remember the train song
The magical train song
That came from iron wheels
The song was only sung by trains
As they travelled dales and hills
It was choo choo,
Chug chug and chuff chuff
As we looked out of sash windows
The chimney stack would puff
Passengers on this train
Had compartments where they sat
Gentlemen used walking sticks
And ladies all wore hats
Children all sat quietly
They weren't allowed to speak
They all felt very lucky
To have this marvellous treat
It's been lovely talking to you
It's said that nothing ever lasts
This old romantic train
Has become a relic from the past
One Enduring Stove
A tribute to a major appliance
I am tough, hard working, good looking, and blend well with my neighbors.
I come in various colors with different compartments and choices in sizes
I am not perfect, because like everything else, I’m not made to last forever. But just think about it; When have you seen me broken down and useless?
I will be there when you need me, serve you for years, and keep you fed.
I can be low tech or high tech; but I make you proud and happy regardless.
I am versatile, enabling you to utilize gas or electric; even wood if you prefer.
I have three good neighbors, one of whom washes after meals and one who refrigerates. My other good neighbor is a friendly freezer who’s able to store food for a very long time. I don't mean to brag, but if I may say so myself, I really think that I am the most important of the four of us.
Let’s face it. When we are talking about gathering for the family meal, it’s me you think about. O, you can smoke a turkey without me; but if I were you, I would not do thanksgiving without me. I can bake, barbecue, boil, broil, fry, or even steam; I can also deliver it rare, medium, or well done.
I know that one can eat fruits, nuts, and some healthy vegetables right out of their back yard garden; and there are many fresh things one may choose to eat without heating or cooking. However, if you really want to sit down as a family and enjoy a great and memorable meal, you really need me.
I know that I am primarily thought of as a cooking appliance, but that’s not all I’m good for. In the winter, while I’m cooking your tasty meals, I’m also assisting in keeping your home nice and warm.
09102015 PS Contest, Any Poem Written On Your Birthday, Laura Loo, 4P
When in the course of human events, issues, and circumstances,
one comes in touch with words that fit the reality of the situation;
and when we do, such words are assigned to the individual to explain
to us and our loved ones what ails us and what recourse or remedy
should be employed and pursued.
For the present theme, two words, one of which is a non-word,
come to mind. The non-word was quickly set aside when I learned
that it was indeed, not a word. The non-word was 'Apartmentalization'
which only came to mind because it 'sounded' the part. Next came
another word, 'Departmentalization', because it also had the feel
and the harmony, but was not the theme under consideration.
It was simply an exercise, not in futility, but in comparitalization;
Oops, did I just create another non-word? Let's just table that
figment of my imagination.
The elongated word and theme before us is the seven-syllable word,
COMPARTMENTALIZATION. As a noun, it is the act or process of dividing
something into separate and isolated categories, sections, areas, or
compartments. As such, I found it most interesting and useful in the field
of psychology. Dictionary. Com describes it this way: Psychology. the process
of mentally separating or setting aside one’s incompatible or negative emotions, beliefs, or behaviors: Coping with trauma entails psychological defenses—such as denial or emotional compartmentalization—that are inherently isolating. Wow! There is absolutely nothing figmental about this word.
This, in my view, best demonstrates the theme. It best defines both what I have observed in others and what I have personally experienced in my own life. Indeed, it is one of those 'survival mechanisms' that God has instilled in the human psyche. And whether it's halftime, timeout, or 7th-inning stretches, we learn to move ahead when we learn to 'label it' for a 're-visit' and 'set it aside', or to 'table it'. I can't imagine pants without pockets or a car without
a glove compartment. COMPARTMENTALIZATION. Don't leave home without it.
People were frightened and they were bound to panic.
Over 1,500 people died during the crash of the Titanic.
It was supposed to be unsinkable but when it hit that iceberg, it went down.
It was a terrible tragedy when all of those innocent people drowned.
It was traveling from Southampton England to New York City.
When we think about that sad situation, everybody feels pity.
It had watertight compartments and remotely activated watertight doors.
Sadly this very large ship was destined not to make it to shore.
About 700 people were all that survived.
The Titanic was rediscovered in 1985.
There weren't enough lifeboats, that's why those people died.
It was difficult for their friends and families to say goodbye.
(DEDICATED TO ALL OF THE INNOCENT PEOPLE WHO DIED ON APRIL 15, 1912.)
I stand and watch the exodus of ants
Through sig sag tracks, they wind their way
They march like disciplined soldiers
Never deterred by hurdles on their way
Are they fleeing from an imminent danger?
Or are they on their way to forage their daily bread
They move on urgency, no straggler on the way
Oh! With what collective energy they tread
It seems, these tiny insects lead an active communal life
Sometimes thousands of them scuttle on the ground
We wonder who summons them to gather as a group
Usually they keep in line with the ones going in front
White ants build underground condominiums
As from castles, their spires tower above the ground
They are thus comfortably settled beneath
In air conditioned compartments within the mound
Black ants occupy every creek and cranny
And live in unified colonies without strife
They are not fussy about where they stay
Any humble shelter is enough for their simple life
If by chance one gets hurt or wounded
The others generously carry it on their back
It is fun to watch them scurry on their tiny legs
And observe them move along, forming a neat track
Red ants are the miscreants of the whole lot
With mandibles like pliers, they pinch n pierce the skin
They might even crawl unseen to our beds
Leaving us itchy and scratchy making our heads spin
If the carcass of a rat or roach is found
In no time it is stripped down to the bone
If some grain is strewn on their way
In seconds each one carries and it is done
Unity is their strength, through precept they prove
They work together and live in harmony
They never rob another of his property
Nor like man covet his neighbor’s money!
15. Jan. 2022
Insect’s Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Angela Tune
"Compartmentalize your life around your dreams, hobbies,
goals even your grief and hurt and you will grow as a person."
Quote _by Constance
I like things in my life in compartments,
good at dividing and separating;
like a store with different departments.
A time to pen poems captivating,
and divide all my emotions inside;
even put to the side things frustrating.
I put my grief in a box that I hide,
my past memories in a chest to keep;
oh yes, I like to ascribe and divide.
I go to the cemetery to weep,
for all those I loved now gone up above;
but try to not let them into dreams creep.
There is a time for seeking a truelove,
assign, label, seclude, group, draw apart;
and a time for finding my own self-love.
Each day has a specific time for art,
and a time to pray and to talk with God;
my beliefs are mine and part of my heart.
my friend Buddha helps me 'cause I am flawed,
I survive by having things in their place;
for in my past from deep pits I have clawed,
Each day I live in harmony and grace,
my way may not be yours but it is mine;
happiness is when each thing has a space.