Long Complaining Poems
Long Complaining Poems. Below are the most popular long Complaining by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Complaining poems by poem length and keyword.
I’m in the band called “Beg Your Pardon”
Our latest, “The Luddits Headway”
Sells well, and the “Forest of Arden”
Our hit, has got some airplay
There ain’t no plans for touring though:
The phase of changes lingers on
Our singer left to form the “Zoo”
Our drummer yesterday has gone
The reason was the weak attendance
Our captive crowd went away
Eventually, our independence
Drifts in the truest luddits way..
For goodness sake, I’m not complaining
You see me busking every day
Still “Beg Your Pardon” stuff I’m playing
Although it sounds a bit too plain
In my rendition, but who cares
The people pass me on the street
Last night a lady from upstairs
Came down, and we talked a bit
She was a bassist in “Murango”
An ethnic band that played worldwide
I put some jazz, we danced a tango
Got a few clappings in the night.
The depth of life
Mystery having a history
Untold story
The life of one person
Hardships
Beaten words that were never torn
Angry thorns
Unexpecting eruptions within
Approaching storms
Names beyond given
No appreciative centerpiece
Remaining strong and holding one’s own
Fought individual battles and wondered about victories
Newer complaining
Silent voice within the heart
Fortress
A story no one knew
But no matter what, head up and pursue
Man up
The moment was always the place
No pause
Smiled through circumstances
Tacked situations head on
No choice just responses
Actions
Still here
It will always be
Chosen to survive
Learning experiences in strive
A story told
Bold and behold
Survival chances
The Living Dead
Life is but a shadow rain or shine,
A masquerade, and a trick of the mind.
A life unspoken, a heart turned to stone,
I’m moving my body, but my spirit is gone.
Sunshine and smiles but darkness inside
My smile seems hollow-no light within
Dreams twist and tangle, like braids in a bundle
Laughter that howls- like the wind in a storm
Fighting for life, but no hope in sight.
Struggling for peace from the pain deep inside
Crying won’t stop and complaining makes no sense
Days are blurred like ink smudged on a page
Praying for life, yet hunted as a prey
All hope fades, no voice, no chance, no escape
Am I just walking-wondering through hell?
My mind has gone wild and my soul unfed
Breathing but suffocating, with tear filled eyes
Just a heartbroken man living inside.
My soul cries, begging to be free
But I lie chained, trapped in a dungeon’s dark cay –
It’s me…..all of me……wholly me.
How can my soul escape? How…..how much more can it take?
I’m more than this numbness, much more than this night,
I’m choosing to live but losing this fight
Take this pizza to Madura
Party down at table seven
They’re divorcing and they’re hungry
Years together were eleven
I’m a nice guy so I took it
Though I’ve had no formal training
Down the stairs and through the courtyard
To the patio, it’s raining
Though I know the I am dreaming
I was quested to deliver
Rain is heavy and it’s pouring
Patio is like a river
Pizza’s melting, I’m in trouble
No time for another make-up
They will surely be complaining
From this dream, I guess I’ll wake up!
It sits there waiting
Never complaining
Like a devoted little puppy
Do we really appreciate
What life would be like
Without this friend so trusty
We take it for granted
This mechanical friend
Never showing any appreciation
We should let it know
How we cherish it so
Our sole means of transportation
There once was a time
In years gone by
Long before the automobile
We walked, we rode
A bike or a horse
Now just sit there at the wheel
So treat this friend
Like one of the family
You will never ever go wrong
Her engine will purr
Her tires will sing
A happy little motoring song!
January 30 Scripture Meditations Based on Numbers 6-9
Key Verse – Numbers 6:25 The LORD make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR MAKING YOUR FACE SHINE UPON ME
Thank You for making Your face shine upon me with of Your blessings
Thereby separating me from sins’ cursings
Truly strengthening me with Your holiness-enforcings
Thus, consecrating me for Your service-pressings.
Thank You for making Your face shine upon me with Your graciousness
Thereby pardoning me with Your cleansing forgiveness
Truly purging me from worldliness’ filthiness
Thus, sanctifying me toward Your righteousness.
Thank You for making Your face shine upon me with Your security
Thereby protecting me from destruction-caused iniquity
Truly admonishing me against complaining and feeling haughty
Thus, humbling me down to follow Your authority.
Thank You for making Your face shine upon me with Your glad countenance
Thereby radiating to me Your light’s sustenance
Truly guarding me from evil resistance
Thus, assuring me Your joy brought by sincere repentance.
Thank You for making Your face shine upon me with Your upliftment
Thereby upholding me toward ministry-involvement
Truly enclosing me with Your exhortation and encouragement
Thus, drawing me near Your heart’s endearment.
Thank You for making Your face shine upon me with Your peace
Thereby bringing me to Your tranquility’s rest far from worry’s crease
Truly refreshing me with loving kindness that does not cease
Thus, allowing me to bask in Your serenity’s sweet release.
January 30, 2022
Watery eyed thoughts came,
Zap! Pow! a short circuited brain.
Inward turned burned ocular pain,
too many thoughts to restrain
I’m a cheap sheep making my mistakes again.
Smell my seared wool going down the drain.
Ba, ba, blackishly wishing I was right as rain.
Words accessed by my fingertips
help to quicken my sheepish heartbeat
Yet I bang on my keyboard, DELETE, DELETE!
Ripping out digital scores, sheet by sheet.
Never once listening to what other sheep bleat.
Instead I feel my brain draining
as my barnyard thoughts are straining
I can’t translate what they’re saying.
It sounds to much like blah blah complaining.
I’m watching you fake shepherd boy,
black sheep never sleep
into the darkness we’re destined to creep.
Sad sadistic secrets you’ve burdened us to keep
So we push our charred thoughts way down deep,
as we travel paths dangerous and steep.
Within the silence of the lambs,
you devilishly relish hearing us weep.
While I admire fleece as white as snow.
I’m not inclined to go where those sheep go.
Their path leads to your fictional rainbow.
They’re not safe just because they travel slow.
The True Shepherd wouldn’t lead them to and fro
I listen to my uneasy queazy feeling
and exit your proverbial row.
I wish I could stop them too
but, ba ba ba, to the slaughter they go.
For Wow Me Poetry Contest entered August 26, 2019.
Written August 21, 2019
Re-entered in John Hamilton’s N/A contest
Only early July the summer heat is brutal
days will over a hundred degrees in the shade
The evening does little to cool, her breezes warm
So hot the stars seem to melt away as the moon crisp
to a golden brown, the ground thirst rived with cracks
as your clothes feel like loose skin layered onto your wet body
by the sweat from the sweltering punishing summer heat.
The sun does not shine it scorches and burns
delicate plants wither their leafs browned
Never enough water for any life abused by this heat
In direct sunlight you feel your skin burning
you sweat excessively, you are drained and fatigued
as your soul exhume itself from your body
ounce by ounce drop by drop dripping away into the
shinny shimmer glimmer of the horizon as it dives
into the belly of hell to cool itself off.
The refuge of indoors with fans blowing and air conditioners
churning air that neve feels cool enough.
Too hot to sleep, too hot to eat. Your will to work
long has evaporated into the glorious magnificence
of the mighty harsh Sun.
Outside the world becomes an oven baking away
sizzle and crackle of life itself buckle by the summer heat
Long pass the cold of December snows, so far from the freezing
of January. In my youth we played outside in this heat
riding bikes, roller skating, swimming at the public pool.
Drink from the garden hose cool off with the slip and slide
Mother would bring out a pitcher of ice Kool Aid.
Summer tan us brown as we spit watermelon seeds
for fun. We didn't even have air conditioning until I was ten.
How did we do it back then? it was just as hot, we were not as soft
You just lived life as it came and made the best of it.
No complaining, no worries, just living day by day
and those hot summers were expected and okay.
Race you to 7-Eleven for a Slurpee.
Here's an ode to a big yellow ball
Not the one we bounce in the park
The big yellow ball that wakes us up
And chases away the dark
Keeps us all warm and cosy inside
As we happily welcome its rays
At times it tries so hard to please
We have to wear shades all day
I'm really not complaining you see
Look stunning in my stylish new shades
At times mistaken for Angelina Jolie
Er... Brad Pitt is what I meant to say
Imagine if that big old Mr. Sol
Got up at midnight instead
Would be quite difficult getting to sleep
With covers pulled over our head
Who was very first person to decide
Nighttime was the time for sleep
And daytime belongs to us happy folks
As mornings from the covers we peek
Opening up our sweet baby blues
We spy old Mr. Sol in the sky
Happily start singing Zippety-Do-Dah
The world's a chocolate cream pie
This here's an ode to a big yellow ball
Not the one we bounce in the park
The one that makes us yell hallelujah
And sing like the proverbial lark!
© Jack Ellison 2012
To presume to write to someone about courage
and not complaining, don't importune or make dying people cry.
I've always said Leave me alone with autumn.
Don't stand around my bed, I won't be in it.
Over 7 years after he died, I finally looked
through my father's papers. Couple of unclaimed insurance policies,
savings bonds, our genealogy and on graph paper in an engineer's
block lettering quotations from The Seat of the Soul.
Reincarnation and karma are the chicken soup of the soul,
the after life is the reward for our colossal imperfections.
Along with banking instructions, he'd underlined
this: Your soul is immortal. It exists
outside of time. It has no beginning and no end.
Every time you ask for guidance you receive it.
If we are not at home in the world, contributing purpose,
we lose our desire to stay here -- ?and we die.
The physical world is an unaccountable given in which we unaccountably
find ourselves and which we strive to dominate to survive
or it is a learning environment created jointly by the souls that share it
and everything that occurs within it serves our learning.
Sin is activity directed toward self rather than toward service
to others. Sickness is sin. Almost any condition can be corrected.
You are part of God, therefore, think in a godly manner.
If you cannot accept this, forget it all. Do not even begin.
The first act of free will: How do I wish to learn?
If we participate in the cause, it is impossible not to participate in the
effect.
We shall come to honor all of life sooner or later.
Until you become aware of the effects of your anger, you will continue to
be an angry person.
Walking is the most commonly suggested exercise. Also, breathing.
"Thy will be done." Concentrate on that!
These expressions of certainty, conjectures and guesses
were inscribed by him in block letters on graph paper.