Long Consumption Poems
Long Consumption Poems. Below are the most popular long Consumption by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Consumption poems by poem length and keyword.
Pink Slime, Pesticides
And chicken thighs bigger than my thighs
And we wonder why there is an increase
in learning disabilities among children today
I say it’s because the process, that the food is processed and grown and raised, is
compromised by demand, money, greed or fame.
I do understand that demand is high
so we have to do somethin’
So to compete, we inject hormones into the very animal or plant that is sold for consumption
So now we eat these hormones and our bodies are stressed because of the added pesticides and herbicides and other sh#! that’s hard to digest
I mean what’s really the cause?
There’s more kids with disabilities today than there ever was
I say it’s because like the story is told in the verses, that knowledge is increasing in man and the result is not what He purposed.
Pink Slime and Pesticides..We’re eating stuff that’s been chemically grown inside…and chickens bigger than my thighs
Inhibitions won't be sealed
when alcohol starts to reveal
Your deeply hidden desires
I need to put out the fires
Your strong drink is finally causing
Please eat something to start pausing
The effects of your choice
You wont listen to a voice
Of reason that is just trying
To keep you from slowly dying
A special friend I knew went down
The wrong path--they never found
Their way out of this despair
Too stubborn to even hear
I know exactly where their headed
Because their consumption led
To a fateful and dark night
I can not repeat the fright
With another reckless friend
Do not let this be the end
Take a moment--slow it down
One more friend laid in the ground
Is more than my heart can take
Do not put your life at stake
By being a dumb a-- fool
I'm about to fight and duel
Grabbing that drink right off you
Look at me and get a clue
Come on lets get out of here
Driving you home I will take care
To make sure you are alright
In your bed you will sleep tight
Tomorrow will be a new day
Sticking by you at AA
I make sure your better
My friendship will help you weather
Any storm that you will face
I'll be the rock that you can brace
If you start to fall and stumble
My caring heart will keep you humble
As my youth goes yonder her beauty says to me yet, bet, yea,
in my mouth the word beautiful becomes a flavor of valor,
she likes to whisper moments of sad love & tender tragedy
into the ears of quiet poets as they trace the perfection of the Present
with quills dipped in the tails of comets destin for drama,
as you walk wantonly along trails her melody invites
she'll scorn with a question of why are you here with her
then the nails she sharpens with teeth of nurture
will attach One to a cross of commitment, a relic of costly consumption,
because she must have you
as a shadow must have a soul to follow
within the humiliation of Light,
as an owl finds comfort in the concealment of night,
so subtle in admission of affection
although profuse in protection of the Ones she charms,
sensitivity she cannot escape, always hurting to be an angel,
born to be a Princess with feet in mud and eyes on the stars,
deserving dreams of diamonds cast on diadems
while living to endure harsh humanity
an adequate lover her timeframe will accept,
quotes from adolescence she repeats romanticaly,
'Love me in the heat, love me on the ice,
defend me from the cheat, define me despite the price',
alone in her desire I am the champion of her fire -
J.A.B.
A tamer version of myself,
I rise from day to day
Fit for consumption publicly,
in camouflage I play
Memories deep, and memories stored,
from oh so long ago
Now sleep inside my attic walls,
ephemeral they glow
My current frame of reference…
four always two plus two
To the mundane I show deference,
and do what others do
But late at night I hear those sounds,
now coming down the hall
Remembrances to fill my dreams,
my treasure out of pawn
With sleep unchained and dreams on fire,
I return to who I am
And pray that on tomorrow’s eve
—my past will come again
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Too Much Technology,
Yet not enough Ecology.
Too much Talking,
And not enough conversation.
Too much planning,
Yet not enough doing.
Too much planting,
And not enough food.
Too many cars,
Yet not enough people.
Too much production,
And not enough consumption.
Too low prices,
Yet not enough quality.
Too much competition,
And not enough co-operation.
Too much of everything,
Yet not enough of anything.
Too much dope,
And not enough hope.
Yet we have had enough reverses,
To know there are enough possibilities,
To negate the oversupply of Procrastinators,
While we still have enough faith in our innovators.
Melissa Lont
1825 - 1911
How does one as low and humble as I
Sum up my life of 86 years
In a mere poem as brief and short-lived
As life itself?
And what is the secret to my long life?
What do I know that you, my friend,
Would like to know
About success and survival?
About good health and good luck?
My answer is this:
Do not complain and do not explain! Never!
And as for being married all those years to Doctor Lont?
Well, truth be known, like Hera,
I knew of my husband’s infidelities.
But I also knew to look the other way
And pretend to not see or know!
I admired Ida Kincaid for her sacrifices to maternity.
But I loathed Ida Kincaid for her matrimonial mendacity.
At her funeral in June of 1903
I aloofly stood across the way
There on dusty Broadway Street
Under the bulbous blue jacarandas
Screaming hallelujahs!
As Mr. White lowered her cream-colored coffin into the Netherworld!
And when Doctor Lont, my husband of 41 years, died of the consumption,
I did not cry nary a tear!
Why should I have?
Now I too am resting within this hard ground next to him.
Next to the man, my man in perpetual suspenders from Springfield,
My man who never ceased being a boy.
June 23, 2023 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Proverbs 5-8
Key Verse – Proverbs 5:21 For the ways of man are before the eyes of the LORD, and he pondereth all his goings.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY WAYS’ PONDERER
Lord God, You are my ways’ Ponderer,
always regarding me with Your discretion
Thank You for shielding me from pride’s consumption
To fill me with Your spiritual wealth’s provision
As well as peace of redemption against hell’s condemnation.
Lord God, You are my ways’ Ponderer,
always instructing me with Your voice
Thank You for guarding me from mischief’s choice
To let me overcome temptations of sluggard’s poise
As well as interferences of evil noise.
Lord God, You are my ways’ Ponderer,
always leading me with Your commandment
Thank You for sealing me by Your ransom’s settlement
To guide me toward faithful stewardship-fulfillment
As well as fruitful ministry commitment.
Lord God, You are my ways’ Ponderer,
always keeping me within Your law
Thank You for assuring me security from enemy’s paw
To insure me deliverance against impudence-claw
As well as bondage of deception flaw.
Lord God, You are my ways’ Ponderer,
always meeting me with Your loving kindness
Thank You for inviting me to hearken unto with humbleness
To cause me to yield to You with submissiveness
As well as willingness while praising Your goodness.
Lord God, You are my ways’ Ponderer,
always speaking to me with Your excellency
Thank You for teaching me to hate deceit and its fallacy
To let me dwell with Your prudence and mercy
As well as wisdom and truth’s constancy.
Lord God, You are my ways’ Ponderer,
always possessing me with Your ownership
Thank You for encompassing me around Your sweet fellowship
To affirm to me Your favourable wondrous friendship
As well as everlasting marvellous relationship.
June 23, 2023
A fleeting still small voice tries to warn me
A sudden overwhelming desire to run
The tell tale taste of metallic flakes
Means my nightmare has begun
Everything around takes on a ghostly pallor
A landscape of anguish and corrosion
A moment of silence before the violence
The flash of light, the brilliant explosion
The sound of the Sun fills my ears
Fear, my throat, though none escapes me
And paralyzed I clench my eyes
As my tormentor prepares to rape me
And it's endeavor is absolute
Consumption is its ultimate goal
It exists to chase me so it can erase me
Whilst feasting on my soul
And then that familiar salty smell
The sudden rush of warmth so stings
Engaging me relentlessly
In vile unspeakable things
Over and over and over again
My limbs stretched and wrought
As it's teeth tear my bones bare
It's mind defiles my thoughts
And still wounds beget wounds beget wounds
As in the mouth of madness I suffer
And with every injury he just seems to be
Rougher and rougher and rougher
Then just as suddenly as it began it ceases
And for a moment I am clearer
And then the true horror of it all
Is revealed in a darkly lit mirror
There in front of me stands my destroyer
Face flush with it's fill of my pain
And I find that it's eyes and mine
My God, they’re one in the same
Marilyn Monroe discusses making
"The Misfits"
A desert is a bitter place.
There's something cruel in endless space:
it strips away the human scale.
I fear these winds that scour and chase
the vortices, and sting my face.
Good looks are fine, but all too frail -
ask Monty. Once you've lost your place,
you feel as if you've lost the race,
you're not what you're supposed to be.
I envy his consumption rate.
The one man in this battle-born state
in grimmer shape than even me.
Yes, Huston's the paternal kind,
but something's left him colorblind:
director's name on empty chair.
He's hollow, going through the motions,
painted ship on painted ocean:
you touch him, but he isn't there.
I married Miller on a whim.
If I could land a man like him,
I figured, I must be someone.
A man above me, older, smarter:
I didn't want a Jewish martyr.
Why lock the safe? The money's gone.
I come without a guarantee.
Men fool themselves - they don't need me.
I nixed on Arthur, fixed on Clark.
I've reached some kind of plateau now.
I'm sure of everything ... but how
to find my way back in the dark.
Mirror, mirror on the wall, Katrina is the most beautiful of all. Katrina is the mistress
of the glass moon. Hurricane Katrina moves like a great Olympian ice skater, performing
the triple axle. She swirled death and destruction across the New Orleans Delta.
The eyes of Katrina unveiled an unjust poverty that smells like a dead corpse buried
beneath the foundation of our democracy. How can a Christian Nation who preaches God's
Word be so cruel to his follow man? We are all God's children.
Americans of African descent sacrificed their blood, sweat and tears, in building the
richest nation in the world. People of Color never received equal compensation for their
slave labor. They never received the promised 40 acres and a mule.
Lord, why is justice so blind? Where is the home of the brave? Justice falls helpless to
her knees and the glowing light from her touch cannot find the land of the free. Still, at
night, we see the burning stars and the stripes, and all we are asking for is God’s love
and mercy.
America the beautiful, unveiled her torn garment to the world. Meanwhile, the local
newspapers spin fiction into facts. They know how to weave sensational headlines and
photographs for public consumption. Nobody heard the children crying, during the genocide
in Rwanda.
America the beautiful, the world is watching. America, the beautiful, the world is
waiting. America, the beautiful, the world is listening. The world of humanity will
deliver justice to America, and she will be judge by her deeds.
Remember, a divided nation cannot stand on broken promises or broken dreams. History
whispered a secret that all great nations must have great falls. America, America, who is
the most beautiful of all?